You need to see this.
Is it true?
Will this make a difference in your decision to come on tour again?
She can come as well.
I clicked the link and an article came up askingDid Country Star Quit Career For Love?It had pictures of Kitty and I skating hand in hand at the rink in the park, then a close up of Kitty looking a little stunned.
Great, now I was dragging her into my mess with the tabloids.
I sat down and pressed play on the voicemail.
“Caleb,” my previous agent Dave said, his voice easy and confident, like nothing bad had ever happened between us. “You’re not going to believe this. One of your old tracks is trending again. It’s picked up steam online. People are talking and creating buzz about you.”
I leaned back, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“There’s interest,” he continued. “Real interest. This could be big. Bigger than last time. We can do this differently now. Better terms with more control. Maybe a shorter tour. If we play our cards right, you might even get your own show instead of being just the opening act.”
I exhaled slowly.
“Call me back,” he said. “We should talk.”
The message ended, and another started immediately.
“This window won’t stay open forever,” he added. “You’ve got leverage right now because people want you. Don’t waste it.”
I set the phone face down on the counter.
People want you.
Davealways said it like that. It was his job to make sure I gave the people what they wanted.
I stood again and walked to the front window, peering out at the street. Lights were coming on now, the town easing into the evening while I sat in stagnation inside the shop.
I thought of Kitty. The way she had noticed immediately when the crowd shifted. The way she had stepped in without making a scene. The clean exit she had given me without asking for anything in return.
Gratitude settled in my chest, but with it was embarrassment. The quiet awareness that I had needed saving. That I had taken theout because it was easier than standing there and facing unwanted attention.
I looked back at the phone on the bench, at the bills, then at the empty shop.
I was boxed in from all sides.
My savings were depleted. The shop wasn’t doing as well as it used to. I needed an extra stream of income but if I took up the persona of Caleb Green Country Singer, I would lose control of my life, miss my family and community, and lose a part of my soul.
My eyes snagged on the small cardboard box near the register.
The playing cards.
Kitty’s cookie exchange cards were stacked inside, bundled in neat packs with elastic bands. She had dropped them off earlier with a look that had been both grateful and apologetic, like she was asking for help and forgiveness at the same time. I had told her I would hand them out at the square when the cocoa crawl started, and I had meant it. It had seemed simple at the time, fun even, to distribute chaos in paper form.
The cocoa crawl was not a private gathering. It was a public event, which meant people would be out, moving in clusters, and looking for entertainment.
And possibly looking for me.
I checked the time and felt my stomach drop. A tightness climbed up the back of my neck. I had promised Kitty I would be there.
I pulled my jacket on and moved through closing procedures with a kind of blunt determination.I turned off the overhead lights, and left the lamps on low so the shop didn’t look abandoned from the street. Grabbing the box of cards under one arm, I locked the door, and stepped into the cold.
