by Jenny Hale
Unable to hide her astonishment, Hannah asked Georgia, “So this is the first time you’ll have ever laid eyes on the two people who gave you life?”
“Yep,” she replied. “The adoption agency couldn’t tell me much, but they did remember that my parents were incredibly young when they had me, and they felt like they couldn’t offer me the life I deserved.”
“That was a very selfless and honorable act,” Hannah said. “I can’t imagine being faced with that decision. It would be so incredibly hard.”
“I’m excited to see them,” Georgia said. “I have no hard feelings at all. I just want to know who they are, you know?”
“Of course,” Hannah said.
They fell into a lull after that, and Georgia sat back in the seat, stroking the dog, who’d closed his eyes and stretched out on Georgia’s lap so she could rub his belly.
“How about you, Liam?” Hannah asked. “How long will you be in Franklin?”
“I’m doing business in the area, and I’m helping my mother with some insurance details. My father passed away six months ago and we’re managing his assets…” Then, quietly, he added, “I’m picking up my inheritance.”
Caught off guard by the sad news, Hannah looked over at Liam, but he seemed quietly composed, as if he’d practiced saying this. “I’m so sorry,” she said.
Liam nodded in thanks, but he didn’t elaborate. He kept his focus on the traffic in front of them, leaving Hannah to dive into her thoughts once more. She had a lot of very uncertain days to navigate ahead of her. She tipped her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes.
“Hannah?” A masculine voice sailed into her consciousness, but it wasn’t Miles’s. She wasn’t quite aware of where she was at first.
“Hannah?” A warm hand rested on her forearm, giving her a sense of security, like everything would be okay.
She took in her first fully cognizant inhale, opening her eyes and registering that they’d parked somewhere. Liam was facing her from her open car door. A gust blew, and she was suddenly aware of the frigid temperature around her.
“We’ve stopped for dinner,” he said.
Hannah cleared her vision enough to focus on his face in the darkness. She couldn’t see what was behind him. The sun had disappeared completely.
“Georgia was starving, and this exit had a restaurant that was still open.” He stepped to the side, revealing a tiny structure that looked like some sort of hodgepodge between a saloon and a thrift shop. The hesitant look on his face suggested he shared Hannah’s skepticism that this was the best option. “Georgia’s inside with Jerry in her handbag, getting us a table.”
With a punch of amusement over the dog, Hannah slipped her arms into her coat, which had slid down behind her on the journey, and then grabbed her purse.
“How long did I sleep?” she asked, walking beside Liam on their way to the restaurant.
“About three hours.”
“Really?”
It was only now that she realized how exhausted today had made her. She felt as if she’d been hit by a bag of bricks. Her eyes ached for more sleep, and the hollow sadness of her breakup and worry over Gran had settled upon her like a weighted blanket. She really just wanted to curl up somewhere and sleep until everything got better, but she knew she had to push through for Gran.
Liam opened the door to the restaurant, allowing Hannah to enter.
The aroma of fried food hit her right away, along with a surge of heat from the old wood-burning fireplace at one end of the narrow establishment. An empty stage with a single guitar and stool stood at the other. As they made their way further inside, the scent of burning oak took Hannah back to the winter nights she used to spend at Gran’s.
Georgia waved from a minuscule table midway down the room, across from the bar, her handbag in her lap revealing an unusually large, moving lump. She placed her hands on top of Jerry to settle him, and his shiny nose peeked out. When they reached Georgia and Jerry, Hannah scooted the faded silk-flower table arrangement to the edge next to the salt and pepper shakers to give them all more room.
Liam pulled out a chair for Hannah.
“Thanks,” she said, sitting down next to him.
“All right, y’all. It’s getting late and we need to have a game plan,” Georgia said, slipping a rubber band off her wrist and onto her newly piled ponytail in one fluid motion, copper-brown tendrils falling around her face. “Are we driving all the way through, or are we gonna stop for the night?”
A waitress clunked three plastic cups of tap water and a pile of menus onto the table beside them, as she eyed and then dismissed the bag of dog treats next to Georgia. Liam had been busy catching up with missed messages on his phone when he finally turned his attention to the waitress, only then becoming aware of what Hannah was already taking in: the waitress, a tall woman with a generally bored expression and wiry ringlets that fell in frizzy bundles to each shoulder, was wearing a sweater with the words Yep, this is my life! embroidered on the front.
Liam and Hannah shot a quick glance at one another, and Hannah hid behind her menu so as not to burst into laughter at the sight of his face when he’d seen the woman’s sweater. They both must have been loopy from exhaustion because the two of them were biting back their amusement. Hannah looked away so as not to make a scene, but when she turned back to Liam, she caught him gazing at her curiously.
“Back in a sec for your orders,” the woman said. “I’m Rose. Just call over if you need me. I’ll be behind the bar.”
Hannah scanned the appetizer options: loaded onion rings, chili-cheese fries, two-alarm jalapeño nachos… None of the choices hitting the mark, she looked up from her menu. “How far into the trip have we gotten?” she asked. Despite the lighter atmosphere, her head was still aching from stress, and she had a pinch in her shoulder that was making it difficult to sit. She maneuvered around awkwardly to have space at the small table.
“We’re not even halfway yet,” Liam replied, scooting his chair into the aisle a bit to give Hannah more room between him and the wall. “We’ve got about nine more hours to go, so I can’t imagine pushing through. Are we all on board with staying the night somewhere?”
“I’m definitely up for finding a hotel,” Georgia said, unzipping the bag of dog biscuits and discreetly dropping one into her handbag.
Although Hannah wanted to get to Gran as quickly as humanly possible, she needed to climb into a warm shower, lather herself up, stand in the stream of water until the heat of it soaked through to her bones, and then crawl into bed. She nodded. “Me too.”
“While we eat, I’ll see if I can book something a few hours from here.” He tapped on his phone screen. “That’ll get us to the midpoint.”
Hannah texted her mom to let her know where she was, and to tell her about Gran’s delivery tomorrow at ten o’clock. When her mom didn’t respond, the niggling worry that things wouldn’t get done at The Memory Keeper bothered her. The last thing Gran needed right now was to pay for inventory she couldn’t sell because it had all frozen outside the door. Hannah put her phone down and looked at her menu again while Liam scrolled through hotels on his cell.
The waitress materialized. “Are you all ready to order?” she asked, her fountain pen poised above a pad of paper.
Hannah tried to scan the options quickly, none of them sounding at all appealing. Everything was fried, and given the events of the day, it would all settle like a cinder block in her stomach if she tried to eat any of it. “I’ll just have your side salad,” she said, unable to find a suitable meal option.
The waitress observed her inquisitively for a second before she offered an indifferent shrug and scratched the note down on her pad of paper. The lights of the stage at the end of the restaurant came on, and a man set up a microphone. “What dressing?” the woman asked. “We’ve got ranch, blue cheese, and Italian.”
Hannah deliberated. “I’ll take ranch, please. Is he going to sing?” she asked, waggling her finger a
t the man.
“No, that’s the manager. Our singer is late. He’d better hurry or he’ll let down all the fans,” she said dryly, while waving her arm around the near-empty restaurant.
Amusement floated its way back into Liam’s face, and he tipped his head down to make his dinner selection. “I’ll have the same,” he said, offering Hannah a grin of solidarity from behind his menu.
“Ranch dressing okay?” the waitress asked, unaffected.
“Ranch is fine,” Liam answered.
Georgia tapped her finger on the menu under one of the entrees. “I’ll have the double cheeseburger with the works, an order of fries, the cheese stick and marinara appetizer, and the loaded potato skins.” She closed the menu and handed it to the waitress.
Liam and Hannah peered over at Georgia in unison. How could Georgia even fit that much food into her waif-like body?
“What?” Georgia said, as the woman collected the menus. “I’m starving. I’ll share my appetizer with y’all if you want.”
“That’s okay,” Hannah said, smiling at her, laughing inside again as Liam caught her eye. She liked how they kept doing that, and she realized this was the first time she could remember all day when she was actually enjoying herself.
A loud squeal from the microphone pierced Hannah’s ears, sending her gaze over to the stage. “Sorry, folks,” the manager said, his voice echoing through the amplifiers. “Our singer tonight is… late. We’re trying to find a replacement.”
An older woman sitting with a small group at a table behind them groaned. “Marty, find me some music,” she shouted to the manager. When Hannah twisted around in her chair to view the woman, she told Hannah, “It’s my birthday.”
The manager acknowledged her with a friendly nod, before turning around nervously, his cell phone pressed against his ear.
“Happy birthday,” Hannah told the woman.
“Thank you,” the woman said, taking in a heavy gulp of air. “It’s the second year since my husband passed—he used to play here,” she explained, scooting her chair closer to Hannah, her gaze floating back up to the stage. “I know it’s nothing fancy, but it’s the only place to hear live music around here, and it helps me forget that he’s gone for a while.” The woman’s eyes glistened. She grabbed a napkin then excused herself.
Hannah turned to Liam and realized that the woman heading to the bathroom had his attention. The manager on stage dialed a number on his phone with a sigh. “I feel terrible for her,” Hannah said. “I wish we could do something.”
Liam nodded, looking pensive, a slight crease forming between his eyes.
“Why don’t you get up there and play like you used to at the bonfires when we were young?” she suggested in a whisper. “You’re amazing.”
“Oh… no.” He shook his head. “I don’t play anymore. I haven’t performed in years.”
His reply shocked her. “How come? You’re so talented.”
“I was a kid, Hannah,” he said gently. “I grew up.” He turned his attention to the empty stage, a distant look in his eyes.
The woman at the table behind them returned and took her seat, a few others filtering in.
“Oh, come on, Liam,” Georgia chimed in. “Now I’m curious. I cannot for the life of me picture you singin’ anything.”
“Why not?” he asked, the surprise at her comment causing a glimmer of humor in his eyes to take over.
“Because—with all due respect—you look like a banker.”
Liam threw his head back and laughed. “I do not.”
“Your hair could not be more perfectly combed if you tried. It rivals Clark Kent,” Georgia said. “And that is not the outfit of a rock star.”
Liam looked down at his jeans.
“His hairstyle is fine,” Hannah said, sticking up for him. “Although it was a little longer and messier when you were young.”
Liam ran his fingers through his hair.
“I’m sorry,” the manager said into the microphone on the stage. “Looks like we won’t have any music tonight, folks.”
The woman behind them sniffled.
“Try, Liam,” Hannah pleaded. “Who cares if you’re rusty? That woman should have music for her birthday.”
He eyed the lone guitar on stage.
“Just a song or two,” she urged.
He shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m letting you talk me into this,” he said with a chuckle as he shrugged off his coat, pushed his chair back, and stood up.
Hannah broke out in an enormous smile and clapped her hands.
“Clark Kent saves the day,” Georgia teased.
“You haven’t heard him play. Maybe he’ll surprise us and turn into Superman,” Hannah added.
Liam didn’t respond to Hannah’s comment and made his way over to the manager. After a brief conversation, he grabbed the guitar and climbed onto the stool on stage, tilting the microphone down to his mouth and leaning into it.
“Uh,” his voice boomed around them. He cleared his throat. “I hear that the performer wasn’t able to be here tonight, so I’m filling in. I hope that’s okay.”
The room was silent.
Liam strummed the guitar uncomfortably, tuning it, and it was clear that he was reacquainting himself with the feel of it in his hands. He looked so different from the boy who’d played for her all those years ago. Hannah remembered sitting in the back of Ethan’s truck in the field where they used to gather as kids, her bare feet swinging above the wild tumbleweeds. At dusk, the boys would all drive their trucks there and drop the tailgates so the girls could have a place to sit. And when Liam showed up, all the girls’ heads would turn. He’d had an electric charge that had surrounded him wherever he went, a current that made people pay attention to him. She could still remember that particular night when he was sitting in the back of his truck, playing guitar. He’d looked her directly in the eyes when he sang, and she’d looked away, but she’d gotten a flutter like no other. She’d hoped he’d come and talk to her, but he never did.
“It’s someone’s birthday tonight,” Liam said from the stage as Rose set their salads onto the table. “So we can’t let her go home without a song or two.” He offered a friendly wink to the woman.
Hannah got up and moved her chair closer to the stage. The woman moved up too and set her chair beside Hannah’s. “I’m Daphne,” she said, holding out her hand. Hannah shook it and introduced herself. Daphne tipped her head toward Liam. “Is he any good?” she asked.
“Yeah,” she replied. “I think he’ll surprise you… and maybe himself.”
Liam began to strum the guitar, the notes taking shape, forming a melody. He hummed into the microphone, getting his bearings. “This is one I wrote myself,” he said.
Then he began an old song that he used to sing all the time. It was about how chances could slip away if you didn’t grab them. Hannah remembered it well. Her senior year, she’d gotten lost in the lyrics, dying to get out of that town and promising herself she’d never let an opportunity pass her by.
“He’s good!” Daphne said.
“Yes, he is,” Hannah replied. He still had it.
Once he’d gotten into his stride, Liam’s fingers played effortlessly, just like they had when they were kids. His voice was more reserved than it had been, and he was quieter, but that kid was definitely still inside somewhere. As he played, Hannah closed her eyes for a second and could almost smell the summer wind back home. When she opened them, Liam’s gaze was on her the same way it had been so many years ago, but this time, she didn’t look away. Instead she smiled, this shared moment giving her relief from everything she was going to face when she got home.
Five
“I still can’t believe you can sing like that,” Georgia said as she slung her bag with Jerry over her shoulder, leaving the carrier in the car and peering up at the towering hotel. They’d gotten back on the road after dinner, and a few hours later, they’d stopped for the night in Northern Virginia.<
br />
“It’s been a while,” Liam said.
To Daphne’s delight, Liam had ended up playing about five songs. She’d told him it had been the best birthday she’d had in years.
“When did you stop playing?” Hannah asked.
“You know, I can’t remember the exact day when I didn’t pick up my guitar,” he replied, shutting off the engine. “I played a little in college, but after graduation, I got busy with finding a job and then marriage, and having a child… Before I knew it, it had been years since I’d played, and it didn’t really feel like it fit me anymore.”
Hannah nodded, considering his reply. She knew what it was like for a part of her not to fit anymore. They got out of the car, and as he pulled their bags from the trunk, she wondered about his wife and the life he’d built for himself. The whole idea of Liam as a family man had changed the dynamic between them.
The first hotel they could find close by was a gorgeous, shiny structure with a rooftop bar and a lobby that rivaled the Taj Mahal. Since it was housing wedding guests who seemed to take up most of the building, there were only two rooms left, so Hannah and Georgia agreed to share while Liam took the other room.
Hannah could tell by the look on Georgia’s face that she wasn’t used to this sort of lavish accommodation, but luckily, Hannah had accrued some frequent-visitor points for this particular chain from traveling with Miles a few times on his various business trips. She’d always put the rooms in her name because he couldn’t care less about the points, so tonight one room was free of charge, and the three of them agreed to split the cost of the other.
“Did they say they have bathrobes and slippers in all the rooms?” Georgia asked Hannah wide-eyed, as she slid her room key across the illuminated sensor for the elevator while shifting Jerry in her handbag. The doors swished open and Georgia loped inside. “I’m gonna take a long, hot bath and curl up in that robe, and watch TV with Jerry in my lap until I pass out. The burger I had earlier made me so sleepy,” she said with a yawn.