“But what if I missed my chance? What if my dream is dead?” Erin sobs a laugh. “Dang, sorry. Sometimes when I get emotional, I start talkin’ and can’t stop. Or when I get flustered. Or anxious. Or happy. Dang, there I go again.”
“Dreams don’t actually die. Sometimes they go to sleep for a bit and wait until you’re ready, sort of like a seed buried in the dark soil, waiting to bloom. Don’t give up. An opportunity might come around when you leastexpect it.”
She smiles, dabbing at her eyes. “I don’t feel quite as optimistic, but thanks for listening to my silly whining.”
“Thank you for trusting me with your story, Erin.” I dig my phone from the pocket of my jeans. “How about we exchange numbers? Rust and I gotta move on soon, but I’d love to stay in touch.”
I feel a real connection with Erin, like she could become a friend. I’m also determined to help her the way she helps others. Damned if I can’t pull some strings behind the scenes to give her an opportunity to prove herself.
“Oh my gosh, yes! That would be awesome! I didn’t want to ask because I thought it would be weird,” Erin says.
We swap phones for a moment and add our contact info.
She blows out a breath. “And uh, thanks again for helping with the lesson. Now I feel like I owe you for the musicandthe talk.”
“No, it’s my pleasure. I don’t often get to play and chat like this.”
I hold back what I really mean to say. That it’s nice to make a friend as plain old me, without worrying if the other person’s only acting nice so they can use me and my fame for their own gain later.
“I think I got an idea how to repay your kindness,” Erin continues.
“That’s really not necessary.”
She pouts. “Please? Let me at least make a suggestion?”
“I’m listening.”
“Okay, so Dave, the fella who runs the‘Bottles & Boots’, yeah? I know him well cause his twin girls are in my Tuesday afternoon ballet class. He hosts live music every weekend and I think he’d love to have you.”
“Today?” I ask.
No, there’s a local bluegrass band playing tonight. But tomorrow it’s old Joe with his harmonica and everybody knows his routine by heart. Mostly cause it hasn’t changed in ten years.” She giggles. “I could introduce you to Dave. That way, you’ll get at least one paid gig.”
I don’t need the money, but this seems important to Erin. Performing at that honky-tonk is also a great opportunity for Rust and me to get on the stage together again without pressure. Though I reckon I’m gonna have to ambush him or he’ll refuse.
“Thanks, I’d like that,” I agree. “I’ll talk to Rust about it when we’re done here and see what he thinks.”
Erin beams a million-dollar smile. “Cool!”
During the brief lull in our conversation, I make out fragments of a tale Rust is telling his new fans. I believe I hear the words ‘massiveblue catfish’as he makes a reel-in motion. The women gasp. One of them puts an arm on his bicep and he laughs.
“Hold your horses, ladies! There’s enough of me to go around,” he hollers.
I grin. “For his next birthday, I should get him one of those hats that say‘Fish fear me. Women want me.’”
Erin snickers. “So y’all used to be an item?”
“A very,verylong time ago.” The words feel like pinpricks in my heart.
“He’s still crazy about you.” Erin winces as I inhale sharply. “Dang, was that my outside voice?”
“You think he still likes me?” I ask, pretending I don’t already know.
“Definitely! Even I can tell and I’m like, really bad at romance. It’s in the way he looks at you as if you’re the greatest work of art. How he touches you with so much reverence even in a passin’ brush of his fingers.” Sheputs a hand on her heart, swooning. “Why won’t you give him another chance?”
An incendiary blush explodes across my face.
Erin stammers, waving around the water bottle. ‘Gosh, I’m so sorry! I totally overstepped there. My mom always says I need to think before I speak.”
