I skim through the numerous break-ups and make-ups of my parents until I reach my thirteenth birthday.
After Mama and Daddy renewed their marriage vows in January, the rumor spread that my parents were the soul mates to unlock Jane Austen’s cell door. I have a strong suspicion my mother herself whispered it into the ear of Lindsay Luney. Everyone knows you don’t tell Lindsay anything you don’t want the whole world to know within a half hour, but Mama’s been fantasizing about her and Daddy having the power together to move mountains and “open locked doors.”
Then Daddy started drinking too much again; what else is new. And Mama was a mess. The mess became worse when Daddy got into a fight with one of the bar patrons, so the mayor took away our liquor license. Without any liquor, our number of customers dwindled down to just a handful, and last month, the bank put a lien on our house because we couldn’t pay the mortgage. So we’re all living in The Cowherd now.
Daddy sleeps on one pew in the chapel and Mama on another. My siblings and I stay in the liquor room—Mama set up some old Army cots she got from her brother. The mayor told Daddy he won’t say anything about us using the bar for a residence as long as Daddy can prove by the fall that he is fit to run The Cowherd again the way it’s meant to be run—serving alcohol. So Daddy’s doing part-time rehab, whatever that means, and staying with us at night. At least he can’t be tempted while he’s at the bar because we’re dry.
My breath catches in my throat when I read what I wrote next?—
The night after we moved into the bar, once I made sure my three siblings were asleep and my parents sufficiently de-stressed for the evening, I snuck out of The Cowherd at one a.m. to see Logan. He got me a box of tissues as soon as he saw my face, and then he took me to the barn. He said he wanted to sleep out there anyway, to stay safe from his father, who was in a particularly angry mood. We sat in the loft all night, and Logan held me in his arms and ran his fingers through my hair while I cried. He said I was stronger than my parents, and that even though they haven’t been able to make it doesn’t mean I won’t.
I left at dawn to run back to the bar before Mama woke up.
Right as I was leaving, Logan gave me the kiss of my life. With tongue and everything. He leaned down while I was tying my shoes and lifted my head up. Then, he covered my mouth with his. And this time I finally kissed him back.
And let me tell you, that kiss was worth the wait. It was even worth all the tears I’d cried. I’ve remembered that kiss every night since, whenever I get down.
I slam the diary shut.
The thing about good memories is—you don’t necessarily want to forget them.
So how do I move on when my times with Logan were the best parts of my life?
I reach for my laptop.
I’ll put them into my novel.
55
“Hey, Mace.”
“Hi, Gin.” I put her on speaker phone as I stare into my bathroom mirror and attempt to fix my hair, which has been frizzy all day from the unusually high humidity outside. “Are you coming to The Cowherd tonight? My father has requested your presence. He wants all four contestants to make an appearance on our busiest night of the week.”
“Mama told me. I’ll be there. So will Dave,” she says. “But are you ready for Logan and Gigi’s engagement party tomorrow?”
No.
“I’m trying,” I say.
“We’ll hang out together,” she says reassuringly. “See you soon.”
When I walk into The Cowherd an hour later, the bar is packed. I’m talking wall-to-wall patrons, including my entire family.
I rush over to the bar, pushing Free and Riley aside. “Daddy! You know you’re not allowed near the bar, especially when it’s this crowded and I can’t keep an eye on you.”
“Evan’s here.” Daddy waves to his sober companion standing discreetly between the taps and my father’s stool. “He’s taking care of me. Don’t worry.”
Evan gives me a thumbs-up, and I nod to him in relief.
“Baby, I love your print top.” Mama nods approvingly at my light orange and red spaghetti-strap shirt. “Where did you get it?”
“San Antonio,” I tell her. “This really amazing store that sells all handmade items from Mexico.”
“It goes perfectly with those jeans and cowboy boots.” Mama taps my foot with her own high heels. “You know, I think our little talk the other week was a good luck charm. You look better already.”
“Thank you, Mama. I think.”
“And theater rehearsal starts this week.”
