I take a swig from my whiskey bottle before I check off my last thing to do today before the bar: I dial my momma’s number. I haven’t spoken to them in a few weeks, and I’m starting to feel like a horrible daughter. I blame it on work and late hours. The phone rings a few times, then Momma picks up.
“I was worried you forgot us.”
My heart instantly turns to much. “Forget you, mama bear? Never. Work’s just been busy, with the opening and all. How are you and daddy? How’s retirement life?” I deflect before anything else comes out.
I let her talk about the latest project she’s got my father working on, before she goes off on a tangent about their anniversary coming up.
“You know, your granddaddy used to tell us that love is more than the happy moments, it’s about how you fight for each other and the roads that come with it. After so many years, I think I can say he was right.” Granddaddy Bjorn. I miss him more every day.
I finish my conversation and hang up the phone, a rush of sadness hitting me.
I miss Jackson.
I miss his smile, his eyes that stare into my soul. His gentleness and how he made me laugh. How easy it was to joke with him and be joked at in return. Mostly, though, I miss how he saw the flaws I kept deeply hidden and still wanted me.
I shake out the sadness; for now, this is for me. Tonight, I’m dressed down in my black shorts, boots, black fishnet tights, and my Johnny Cash t-shirt. Not the most glamorous, but definitely the most comfortable.
One last swig of whiskey and we’re out the door. I see my detail waiting for us, and I tap on the window. It’s rolls down to expose Sparky.
Oh, I’m going to enjoy this. “Alright Sparky, I’m sure he already knows, so follow or not. Just don’t kill the buzz, got it?”
“No promises.” Sparky rolls the window back up.
Reva introduced us long ago to a place with karaoke and dancing that felt like home. Maybe tonight will help me get over whatever last bit of emotions for Jackson I’ve let attach to my soul.
“You gonna grace us with your voice tonight?” Sam asks from the front seat, looking back at Reva and me. Brittany offered to drive, saying she needed a night off from drinking.
“Maybe. It’s been a while.” I shrug it off.
“I hope you do. Maybe you’ll get lucky,” Sam blurts out loudly.
“Someone may have had too many pre-game shots. Still, Tessa, she’s not wrong. If you ain’t looking, then at least be a good wing woman for me,” Reva says checking her phone.
“I need a wing woman!” Sam whines, slumping over the passenger side.
“I swear to the good Lord, if she causes us to wreck, I’m gonna kill her,” Brittany yells.
“You don’t need a wing woman, you need water and food as soon as possible,” Reva says.
These are my people, the ones I know will be there in the end. Even when I screw things up, they’re here.
We pull up to a bar called the Horseshoe. It’s busy when we walk in, the space crowded with the hustle and bustle of a weekend night.
Unsurprisingly, Sparky bit the bullet and followed us. Sam leans over to me. “Who’s the cute ginger?”
I rub my temples to calm myself before I tie her to a chair. She’s going to have to be watched all night, for her own safety. “The answer is no.”
“His name is no?” She looks at me, dumbfounded.
“No, you’re not going near him. Down, girl.” Poor Sparky. He won’t know what hit him.
We find our usual table and order our drinks. The DJ nods his head at me. Youcouldsay we’re regulars here.
A round of shots come to the table for the four of us. Brittany raises a glass. “To the bad ass bitch. The savior in tights. To the woman who can be stubborn and a smart ass at the same time. To you, my cousin. To the many more hearts you will break one day.”
“Cheers,” everyone says, clinking their shot glasses together before hitting the table and pounding the shots back.
Slainte.One or two more shots in, we start to dance. Sam’s watching Sparky, hoping he’ll come dance with her. I know she has her little drunken heart set on the man making a move, but he’s a little occupied with surveying the room. Plus, I’ve seen him look down at his phone more than a few times.