“I love this song,” she said.
“Want to try something different? Add it to the set this weekend?” he asked.
“This weekend? I have to learn the chords, Justin! I swear y’all just like me to stand there and look pretty. I’m more than a bar singer. I actually play too,” she fussed.
“Nah, you’re not just that. You’re much more than that,” he said, smirking as he made music of the afternoon air.
“You say I’m tripping, bullshit. You’re the one that make me do shit,” he sang.
He never sang but he could, and he did it so well that it caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. She nodded her head, sipping the champagne.
“True love is absolute. What more can I sayyyy, you make me this way.” Charlie joined in, making up a harmony that complimented his tone. It sounded completely different than the H.E.R. track it originated from, but that’s what music was about, transforming songs into your own.
“Yo, you’re ridiculous with it,” he said.
She shrugged.
“What’s up with you and ol’ boy?” he asked.
“Absolutely nothing,” she answered. “And I don’t want to talk about it. Men just ain’t shit. Like, you can be so receptive to their flaws. So understanding to the weird-ass shit they got going on,” she said, shaking her head as thoughts of Demi ran through her mind. “And somehow still be treated all kinds of fucked up. I’m sick of niggas.”
“Nah, just say you sick of the ones you’re choosing,” Justin said.
Charlie shrugged as he passed her a wrapped sandwich. “Maybe. Maybe it is my tastes that get me in trouble,” she said.
“Just saying. Don’t write us all off because a few mishandled you,” he said.
She pulled the sandwich from the sandwich bag and laughed when she saw the peanut butter and jelly sandwich inside.
“Simple shit, Charles. Don’t laugh. Bet you haven’t had one since you were a kid.”
She took the sandwich from the baggie and took a bite. Every taste bud in her mouth exploded.
“It’s legit fire,” she chuckled. “I was going to complain but it’s probably the best thing I’ve tasted all week.”
“See,” Justin said. He winked at her. His cool demeanor fit him perfectly. Attractive in a leather jacket-wearing, ripped-jeans-sporting, take the doors off his Wrangler kind of way. Justin was a vibe all his own. A very different vibe than what she was used to, but she couldn’t deny that their chemistry was smooth. It was so easy to get lost in a world of music and lyrics with him. He was the first person she connected with when she had come back home six months ago. She had walked into the bar looking to waitress and had interrupted their entire rehearsal. They didn’t have a singer at that time. Just good music and good vibes, and a guitar that rivaled the late great Prince. She had walked away with that waitress job, but singing after hours as she cleaned and they played had led to her singing with them full time. After everything she had been through, it felt like she had finally found a place to belong. “It ain’t much that beats a peanut butter and jelly. It reminds you of your mama. It’s comfort food. Everybody mama used to make these joints.”
“All facts, Justine,” she said, smiling. Her mind went down memory lane. “There were a lot of days when PB&J was all my mom could afford to feed me and I never got tired of them. She used to cut off the crust and eat that part and let me keep the middle.”
“Your mama was a smart lady,” he chuckled. “The rough edges are the sweetest parts.” She grew quiet as she looked off toward the crowd in the distance. The air was thick. Like it wasa summer day in New Orleans and humidity laced the air. She could barely get it to her lungs.
“My mom’s dead,” she said. “They say she died of a stroke. I think she died of a broken heart.”
Justice grabbed his guitar. “You want to sing it out?”
Charlie sniffed, and nodded, erasing her feelings. “Yeah,” she answered, knowing exactly what he meant. Only a musician could get rid of a feeling through song.
Charlie stayed out in the park with Justin until the sunset and somewhere between the bumblebees and lightning bugs, she forgave herself for the one-night stand. As they headed toward the car, Charlie turned to him. “Thank you for today. For the distraction and for being cool enough to not hold a grudge about the other day.”
“It’s already forgotten, Charles,” he said as he opened her car door. “Time for an upgrade. This thing has seen better days.”
“It was my mom’s,” she said. “This was home a lot of nights.”
“My bad, Charlie, I didn’t know,” he said.
“It’s fine. Just saying, I’ll never get rid of it. It’s one of the very few things that I have left that remind me of her,” Charlie said.
“We all have our attachments,” he answered.
