I shrugged again, not knowing what to say, because, well, it did. “I like music. I like to sing. It makes me happy, and it makes other people happy.”
“That’s an understatement. You’re an excellent singer. Is that what you do for a living? Are you a musician?”
“No. I do it because I love it. I teach the occasional guitar lesson for the local kids, but singing is just for me.”
“I’m surprised. Your performance was so professional, so moving.” Her eyes grew distant, and her body relaxed as if she was reliving my performance and it brought her peace.
So, I had affected her.
“Thank you,” I said sincerely. “I like to think my singing brings others as much joy as it brings me.”
She stared down at her drink and ran a fingertip around the rim of the glass. “I haven’t heard that song in years.”
“It’s a good song.”
“It is.”
“And it seemed like a good fit for tonight.”
She tilted her head, and her eyes held mine in a pensive stare. “It was for me.”
I nodded and swigged my beer. “Live music is special and, in my experience, even more special when it holds a message you need to hear.”
“Hm.” Her eyes returned to her drink, and the curve of her mouth turned down. She took a sip, winced, and tipped her glass in my direction. “You’re perceptive.”
“It wasn’t that hard to see.” I spun my beer bottle in one hand. “You have beautiful eyes, Lena, but there’s sadness in them.”
A flush warmed her cheeks, and she nervously tucked loose hairs behind her ear. “That obvious, huh?”
I chuckled. “Yeah. You looked like you needed a reminder of lightness and fun, the good things in life.”
This was getting heavy, and I wasn’t Niko. I didn’t get into deep conversations with women I didn’t know. And yet… “Wanna talk about it?”
What the hell? My brain hitched on the words escaping my mouth.
“With a complete stranger?” She gave me a wry look. “Not particularly.”
She needed to talk to someone, that much was obvious, and I didn’t need to be a siren to see it. Yes, I sensed the heaviness she emanated, but she wore her emotions in her expression and body language as obviously as the kids running around with their faces painted. Niko had been right. It was no wonder the full strength of my call had so little impact. The emotional burden she carried was heavy.
“Sometimes it’s easier with a complete stranger,” I said, nudging her along. “No history. No fear of judgment. Besides, I’m not a complete stranger. We met this afternoon. And now we both know each other’s names.”
“Not going to let me forget that, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Fair enough.”
She sighed, set her glass on the bar, and poked at the ice cubes with the stirrer. “My grandma passed away last week.” Her delicate throat moved through a swallow, and my chest clenched at the wave of grief that washed over her as she said the words. “That’s why I’m here. She and I... We used to live here together before I graduated high school. I’ve lived in Charleston since then but visited often. Maybe not as much in recent years.”
Regret and bitterness laced those last words. She’d mentioned a divorce…
She rolled her shoulders as if she could shake off the new, toxic emotion.
“We were each other’s only family. When she passed, I inherited everything. I’m trying to sort through it all. There’s just so much”—she waved her hand in circles—“paperwork and the lawyer and the house and the gaping hole in my life and…”
Her voice wavered, and she stopped, her throat bobbing. She looked up from her drink with glassy eyes. “So, yeah. I’m trying to figure out what to do with all that.”
“I’m sorry, Lena. It’s difficult to lose family.”
