16
Kris
Okay, so lunch may have been a tad awkward for me. I made this crockpot chicken and baked eggplant chips, figuring something healthy would be better with my little experiment. After what Lori had to say about my hiding behind the bar with a bottle, I’ve decided that maybe it’s time I dried out. It’s not fuckin’ easy. I feel like shit, but I need to put on a good face. I promised Cliff I would help Nicolette, and now that I know she’s got part of Lette, I am even more apt to keep that promise.
Thing is, she’s not Lette, is she? I mean, she’s a young woman that thinks very differently. One that hasn’t experienced much life. I think her surrounding people have a lot to do with that, and I don’t want to hold her back. When she bit into that sandwich and a little moan tumbled out of her mouth, I wondered if she makes any other weird little sounds.
We sit outside Benny Jangles, a karaoke club just this side of Nashville. It’s our first stop for the night. Here she’ll do a set of four. We’ll watch, have an appetizer and then move across town to Cowboy Bebop's. Yeah, it’s just what it sounds like.
“You ready?” I look at her in this blue dress with some kind of brown flowers and blue accessories to match.
“Kind of nervous, actually.” She looks in the mirror, running her fingers through her hair.
“Don’t be, and you look great.” I smile, getting out of the car, then coming around for her.
“Thank you, so what am I singing again?” She swallows hard. “I’m parched.”
Putting my arm around her shoulders, I hip bump her. “Guess you need water, huh? Do you want that on your head or down your shirt?”
She shoves me with a smile. “You’re such an ass.”
I blow her a kiss. “Yeah, but it’s such a great one.” I wiggle as we walk inside.
“Mine’s better.” She says before kissing my cheek and making her way to the bar, the one place I don’t want to go.
***
“Nicolette, how could you fail like that?” I shake my head as she sits down. Her first set was bad, but she chose Strawberry Wine for her last, and while it was spot on, it had no heart. “You can’t sing something like that.”
“I told you, I was nervous!” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Why can’t I sing it? I just did, and everything was right.”
“Yeah, it sounded perfect, except for the emotional connection. Something tells me you’ve never lost a lover. Hell, you’ve never had one to lose. It was hollow. You’ve never put your heart out there to have broken. You don’t know the ache yet. I pray you never do but stay away from broken heart songs until it happens. Please.” My tone relaxes from its initial anger as I realize I mean the words I say.
She’s chewing her lip like she’s trying to decide what to say. “I’m singing country music. The home of heartbreaks, beer, and small towns. If I’m fucking up so bad, why don’t you show me what I’m doing wrong?”
I sigh and stand. “You want me to sing?” Running my hand through my hair with a nod, I storm away. She wants me to fuckin’ sing. I’ll sing, and when I’m done, there won’t be a dry fuckin’ eye in the house, especially her’s. I walk up to the guy that spins the records to make my request. Live Like You Were Dyin’.
When I return to the booth, Nicolette won’t look at me. “Alright, I get it. You have more life experience. Don’t gloat.” She sniffs but clears her throat to hide it.
Sitting, I gently touch her cheek, feeling her tears against my knuckles. “Hey, listen to me. The only reason I have more experience is that I went out and got it. Now, are you going to weep, or are you gonna crow?” I hope that the Peter Pan reference isn’t lost on her.
“Pan only had lost boys. Wendy took care of them, and Tink was jealous.”
“Not in my Neverland.”
She wipes under her eyes before looking at me. “You play dirty, Pan.”
“Maybe, but you shine more brightly when I do, Tink, and just remember, I do believe in fairies.” I take her hand. “Come on, this place is done. Let’s see you roar.”
She follows without much of a fight. On the way to Jangles, she has to clear her throat a lot.
“Guess it's my turn. Here goes nothing.” She takes a big breath, and I move toward the stage to give my support. She breaks out with Dolly, Why’d You Come in Here Lookin’ Like that? The room chuckles and even taps their toes. But it was her next song that got them up and moving with her. Redneck Woman, Nicolette ran the room, that is for sure. She smiles and dances a bit, working up an appetite. She orders a pheasant burger and has them put all the toppings on it. I swear, when it came out, it looked like it had a full salad bar on top of it! She then ate half my poutine and stole sips of my root beer float.
I’d kill for a fuckin’ beer, but I’m handling it as best as I can. It’s only day two. If I can’t get through it, I’m a goner.
“You enjoyin’ that?” I tease as she eats it with a knife and fork. “Would you just pick it up already? If you wear it, I’ll let you wear my shirt for the last juke joint.”
“You’re wearing your shirt, and I don’t think it matches my dress.”
I point to my button—down. “Black matches everything.”
“Correction, almost everything. It does not match brown.” she points to herself.
“A matter of opinion.” I smile, hearing her name again. “Looks like you’re up again.”
She sips her tea and then clears her throat before nodding and walking away.