Good Times

by Kate, Jiffy

  “I didn’t realize Tucker was in a band,” I say, perusing the menu as Finley talks.

  “Yeah, he was a pretty big name and one day, he just walked away. His tour bus dropped him off in French Settlement and he’s pretty much been living the small-town life ever since.”

  I try to recall if Cami has ever said much about that part of her brother’s life. We talk about a lot of things and she’s told me plenty about her family, but most of the stories about Tucker are either from their childhood or about his little girl and fiancé.

  “Well, isn’t it funny how life just puts you in the right place at the right time,” I tell Finn with a warm smile, happy things are falling into place for him, just like I always knew they would. The world just had to get ready for the greatness of Finley Lawson. He’s always been an old soul and man before his time, even as a teenager. “I always knew you’d get your break one of these days.”

  I swear Finn’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink. Another thing I’ve always loved about him is his humbleness. He’s never flaunted his talents, just quietly let them speak for themselves.

  I don’t know where the next thing out of my mouth comes from, but it’s there before I’m able to stop it. “Part of the reason I left was because I never wanted you to have to choose between me and your dreams.”

  Finn’s gray eyes meet mine and a myriad of emotions pass through them.

  “Did y’all decide?” the waitress asks, interrupting the moment. Part of me is thankful for the distraction, but part of me wants to ask her to leave, because now that it’s out there, I know we really need to clear the air.

  Lay all our cards on the table.

  “I’ll have whatever you have on draft and a crawfish pocket,” Finley says, his eyes still on me as he hands his menu to the waitress.

  “Uh,” I start, breaking away from his intense stare and glancing back down to my menu. “I’ll have a sweet tea and a gumbo pocket.”

  “And we’ll share a basket of fries,” Finley adds with a polite smile.

  She takes my menu and returns Finn’s smile. “Coming right up.”

  For a split second, I think he’s going to ignore my statement, but then he looks back at me and says, “That should’ve been my choice.”

  Suddenly, there’s a lump in my throat the size of Texas and I can barely swallow around it.

  “We were just kids, Finn. You had your music and I knew you’d eventually get where you were going. But you didn’t have the means to uproot and move to New York. I couldn’t ask that of you, but I knew if I didn’t get out, I’d be under my parents’ thumbs forever. It was my chance and I took it.”

  The look on Finley’s face breaks my spirit and my resolve. I want to cry at the pain I see there, knowing I caused it. If I could erase it and take it away, I would, but I can’t.

  “I went to New York,” Finley says quietly, thumbing his lip as his eyes drift away, lost in memory. “After months of trying to reach you and failing, I saved up all the money from my gigs and bought a plane ticket.”

  “What?”

  Finn laughs, but it’s not in humor. “When I got there, I went straight to your campus, planning on surprising you. But instead, you surprised me. I saw you out in front of the student center and you were smiling… happy. There was a guy with you and a couple of girls. My biggest fear, what I had been losing sleep over those first few weeks, was that you were in this big, new city alone. I couldn’t stand it. I had to go find you… but when I did, you were happy and I couldn’t mess that up. So, I turned around and left. Spent the night in the airport and flew back to Dallas the next day.”

  “Finley.” Pressing a hand to my mouth, I feel tears trying to spill over, but blink them away.

  He shakes his head. “Don’t… don’t be sorry. It was the best thing you could’ve done for me, honestly. At that time, anyway. I needed to see you happy so I could go on with my life. I figured if you wanted to get in touch with me, you knew where to find me.”

  “I did,” I insist, leaning forward in the booth. “I did want to see you and I tried to. The few times I went back to Dallas, even though I knew it would be harder to go back if I saw you, I still looked for you when I was out. You were never in our usual spots and it felt like you dropped off the face of the earth.”

  I could’ve tried harder, I think to myself. I wish I had tried harder. But it was hard enough being away from him and had I ran into him on those few times I was back, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to leave him again. So, maybe, subconsciously, I was avoiding him even when I was searching him out.

  Finley sighs and then swallows, like he’s reigning in his emotions. “Sometimes, it was like you were a figment of my imagination, until the night you walked into Lagniappe.”

  He came to New York.

  Reaching across the table, I lace my fingers through his. “Maybe it just wasn’t our time.”

  “And now it is?” Finley asks, cocking an eyebrow as his thumb strokes the top of my hand.

  I shrug, unsure of what to say. I’d like to tell him I’m going back to New York and breaking up with Trevor, but I don’t want to speak too soon. Finley’s always been an actions speak louder than words kind of person.

  “Well, I’m here and you’re here… seems pretty serendipitous.”

  He bites down on his lower lip, fighting back a smile as he drops his head on a slow nod. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he says. “I’d give anything to go back, but I’m happy to have you in any capacity I’m allowed.”

  When he looks up at me, that intensity is back in Finley’s eyes, but this time it’s different. No longer are they full of resentment or unresolved emotions, they’re full of tempered heat. I’ve seen it before, seen that heat unleashed, and I remember what it was like to be on the receiving end.

  I’d heard stories about other girls’ first times having sex.

  I’d prepared myself for it to be a rite of passage and nothing more, but Finley blew every rumor and expectation out of the water. Sure, it wasn’t super pleasant in the beginning, but he was slow and passionate, and he took his time, making sure I was taken care of in the process.

  After all these years, it’s still the single most intense moment of my life.

  “One draft and an iced tea,” the waitress says, bursting the bubble we’ve been in since she last walked away. “Your food will be out shortly.”

  Finley picks up his glass and holds it out. “To us and new beginnings.”

  “Cheers to that,” I say, holding up my glass and clinking it with his.

  “Someone once said,” Finley begins, setting his glass back down and locking eyes with mine, “being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”

  My heart begins to beat wildly in my chest, but I wait for whatever else he needs to say.

  “I have no regrets, Jette. Sure, there was a time I resented you for leaving me. But we can’t change the past and it shaped us into who we are today.” He pauses, his eyes feeling like an extension of his hands as they roam. “I really like who you are today.”

  “I like who you are too,” I admit, wanting to say more, but content with this for now.

  “I could’ve let that resentment turn to hate, but I didn’t, because loving you gave me courage. When times were tough, I’d always think of you and it kept me going. Even though I had no guarantee I’d see you again, I told myself that if I did, I wanted you to be proud of who I turned out to be.”

  God, my heart feels like it’s breaking and rebuilding all at the same time.

  “I’m so proud, Finley,” I say, reining in my emotions. “So proud.”

  “One crawfish pocket, one gumbo pocket, and a basket of fries.”

  I glance up at the familiar voice, seeing none other than Sam Landry, Cami’s father-in-law.

  “Sam,” I greet, standing to give him a hug. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

  He raises his brows, shooting a look to F
inley. “Yeah, it’s a new development.”

  Finley chuckles, standing to shake his hand. “Good to see you, sir.”

  “Don’t sir me; we’re family, son.” Forgoing Finley’s outstretched hand, Sam pulls him into a hug. The look on Finley’s face is comical, but I expect nothing less from the Landrys.

  Now that I’ve been properly introduced to all of them, I can’t think of a better family to be adopted into. Finley could use some of that fatherly love, so I don’t even tempt to break up the man hug happening in front of me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Finley

  “That’s a wrap!” Lola yells into the mic from the sound booth as I play the last chord of the song we’ve been working on. “Get your ass in here, Finley, and let’s celebrate!”

  What a fucking surreal moment.

  As I place my sax back in its case, I’m literally vibrating with excitement—something I created is going to be included on Lola Carradine’s album—and in the same breath, I’m sad because it’s over. But fuck yeah, I’m here and I did this shit.

  What is this life?

  How did I get here?

  I’ve only been recording with Lola and her band for about three weeks, but it’s been such an amazing experience and one I’ll never forget. As I step out of the recording booth, I feel my cheeks starting to ache from smiling so damn much.

  “Finley Lawson,” Lola says, standing from her chair and giving me a slow clap. I love that she’s so involved in every aspect of the process. From laying down the vocals to mastering the songs, she’s there with her hands in it all.

  I feel my cheeks heat up with her praise and I wave her off, setting my case down at my feet. “Stop, I should be giving you a standing ovation. My part is so small and wouldn’t be anything without your genius, God-given talent.”

  “Well, if we’re going to talk about God-given talent,” she starts, just as Bo walks in the door.

  He waves at me and grabs Lola into his arms to kiss her. They’re not always super touchy-feely, but he’s been gone to Spring Training and is only home for a day or so. I felt bad that I was even here, but Lola insisted the show must go on.

  I don’t know how they make it look so easy—this busy life and long-distance thing—but they do.

  “Finn,” Bo greets, slapping my shoulder. “Did I interrupt an ego session?” he asks, cocking his head. “No, you’re great… no you. You’re the best.”

  Lola whacks him with a notepad from the desk, laughing. “Shut up! He is great and he needs to start embracing his greatness because I have some news for him.” Her eyes dart to me and I look at her in confusion.

  “What news?”

  “I sent your tracks to some of my friends in the business,” she says, cringing a little. “I hope you’re not mad I did it without telling you, but it was a very spur-of-the-moment kind of thing and I didn’t know what, if anything, would come from it.”

  “But something did?” I ask, feeling my blood start to pump faster through my body.

  “Oh, yeah, something did,” she says, shaking her head and smiling a very conspiratorial smile. “Practically every producer I sent your tracks to has an artist who can use you on a song, if not their entire album. If you’re interested, I could keep you busy with studio work from now until kingdom come. If you’re interested, but only—”

  “Yes, I’m interested!” I say, cutting her off, unable to fight back the enormous smile and wide-eyed shock that has to be on my face. I never saw this coming, not in a million years.

  For the first time in my life, I can see a light at the end of the tunnel, a way to make music and follow my passion and still make a decent living. Not that I’m starving now, but playing gigs all night and day will eventually wear on me, and it doesn’t leave a huge amount of time for other things.

  Like relationships.

  But with studio work, I could cut back at the club and only play on the street when I wanted.

  It’s the best thing I never saw coming, except for Georgette. I never in a million years dreamed she’d show up here, in New Orleans, but she did and right now, she’s the only person I want to tell my news to.

  “Thank you,” I tell Lola, pulling her into a hug. “I appreciate this opportunity so much.”

  She laughs, squeezing me tight. “You don’t have to thank me. I just sent some files to some people, it’s all on you.”

  After I say my goodbyes and head out, leaving Lola and Bo to their last few hours together, I practically run down the street to catch the streetcar. I consider bypassing it, but fuck, I’m kind of out of breath. After playing for hours, my lungs are tired. So, I hop on the next one that stops and try not to look like a tweaker as my knee bounces up and down.

  Once the streetcar stops at Canal, I hop off and haul ass to Royal Street, straight to the gallery, hoping to catch Jette before she goes home. Now that she’s not staying at the hotel, if she’s not at the gallery, I’ll have even more blocks to go before I can tell her my news, and I don’t think I can contain it much longer.

  Thankfully, the open sign is still on the door when I get there, so I take a few deep breaths and then walk inside. The gallery is empty, except for one person.

  The only person I want to see.

  The only person I want to share my good news with.

  The same person I want to see every morning and every night.

  “Finn,” Jette says, her smile growing as she walks toward me. “I thought you had your studio work today.”

  “I did. We finished,” I tell her, still trying to catch my breath.

  She frowns. “Is everything okay?”

  “Better than okay.” For a second, I just stare at her, wanting nothing more than to pull her to me, just like Bo did to Lola… just as easy and sure. I wish I could make Georgette Taylor mine in every sense of the word. My hands twitch as I fight the urge to reach out and touch her, so I distract myself by setting my case down at my feet and then running a hand through my hair.

  Her eyes scan my face and I watch as they go from concerned to happy again. “Tell me.”

  “I finished up with Lola today, but she sent some tracks of me playing to some of her contacts and they want to use me. This is going to turn into a very permanent gig, one that pays a shit ton more than what I make at the club. It’s… huge, for me, at least.”

  “It is huge,” she says, her smile beaming. “I’m so happy for you!”

  The next thing I know, Jette is launching herself at me and I have no choice but to catch her. And it’s the best damn thing I’ve experienced in a long time. Better than working with Lola Carradine. Better than my news. Better than my next breath, but I take it anyway, inhaling her sweet scent and soaking her in while I can.

  When she pulls away, her expression shifts and she rights herself, smoothing down her black skirt. Jette always looks amazing, but today, she’s stunning. The red blouse she’s wearing sets off her blonde curls and light complexion, putting her beauty on display.

  She’s like one of the paintings on the wall of the gallery, but better, because she’s real.

  So, so real.

  “I, uh, have some news too,” she starts, fidgeting like she does when she’s nervous. “Not the exciting kind of news you had, but… well, I’m flying to New York tonight. I’ll be back Monday. So, I’ll just be gone a couple of days. Dani is going to cover the gallery for me while I’m gone. I wish I could celebrate with you tonight, but maybe when I get back?”

  Her question is hesitant and I wonder what has her so unsure of herself—me or New York?

  The thought of her going and seeing Trevor is like a bucket of cold water being poured over my head, but I try to hide it. “Of course. Yeah, no, that’s great. You’ve been needing to do that so you can get your things.”

  “Yeah, I need to do it,” she says on an exhale. The smile she throws up doesn’t reach her eyes and I want to force her to talk to me… and to stay. But she walks behind the desk and rolls out a small suitcas
e.

  “Wow, you really are leaving right now.” Was she going to tell me before she left this time? I can’t help to feel a little wounded that she would leave without telling me, but decide, instead, to let it go. “You’ll call me when you get to the airport?” I ask. “And when you get to New York?”

  She nods. “I will. I promise.”

  “Be safe,” I say, wishing I could say so many more things—Don’t go. Stay. I still love you. Instead, I wrap my arms around her shoulders and pull her in for one last hug, hoping it holds me over until she comes back.

  And, she will come back. I have to believe that.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Georgette

  Me: Hey. Made it to NYC.

  It’s late and I’m exhausted. After a busy day at the gallery, Dani stopped by, informing me she’d be on location with her photography quite a bit for the next couple of weeks and if I wanted to make the trip to New York, now might be my last chance for a while. So, I hopped online and booked a last-minute flight, ran to my townhouse and threw a few things in a suitcase, and made it back to the gallery to close up. And just in time to see Finley.

  That last part wasn’t planned, but like everything else in my life lately, felt serendipitous.

  I was hoping to at least talk to him before I got on the plane, so I’m glad he stopped by, and more than that, I’m glad he had such great news to share. And that he wanted to share it with me.

  My only regret is I had to leave him standing on that sidewalk and I didn’t get a chance to celebrate with him. I know what he was thinking—about the last time I went to New York and left him. I get it. I was thinking about it too. But this is different.

  This time, I’m saying goodbye to New York instead of running to it.

  Pulling out my phone, I open up the Uber app and schedule a pickup. Trevor still hasn’t returned my text from before I left New Orleans, but that doesn’t surprise me. It’s the way things have been between us pretty much the entire time I’ve been there. Since our fight over the townhouse, things have gotten worse. But he did promise me he’d be at the apartment when I get there so we can talk.