“Yes it can be.”
“And he thought he had to do the garden to stay in your good graces.”
“I handled that boy for a good many years. The music industry can be crushingly hard. And despite that thick skull, he’s a sensitive soul,” she says. “I’m glad you two have settled on being just friends. Because it’s best if he remains with us for a while. Has a chance to sort out next steps. You know there wasn’t a day when fans and photographers weren’t standing outside his house.”
“He said fame was a cage.” I save my work and turn off the laptop. “Also told me he grew up without much.”
“Did he?” Grandma sounds surprised. “He doesn’t usually discuss his childhood.”
“It’s not like he said much.”
She settles into the seat opposite me. “How are you doing?”
“Being here has been good. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome to remain for as long as you like. I’m not so secretly hoping you might stay here. Should you decide you don’t belong back in Phoenix.”
I smile. “I like that idea. Let me give it some thought.”
Friday night is karaoke time at the bar. Mac the mechanic has just finished his rendition of “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman. And his performance owes more to exuberance than actual musical ability. But the applause is loud and supportive just the same. The Bend is a great town.
Nash wipes his mouth with a napkin. “That was fucking—”
Grandma clears her throat.
“Fire trucking delicious.” He pats his stomach. “Easily the best BBQ I’ve had in a while. And the potato salad and cornbread were both excellent. The microgreens were meh and I could have used that square inch of space for more ribs. But otherwise…”
“There are vegetables other than potato and corn, you know?” asks Grandma. “Don’t tell me all those years I spent training you to eat a salad once in a while went down the drain after I left.”
“Okay then. I won’t tell you.”
I take a sip of beer. “They get the best food trucks parked outside the bar.”
Sabrina the hair stylist, and Carter the librarian, are up next on the small stage. They’re performing “Shallow” by Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper. And holy shit, do they have great voices.
Nash and I seem to be attracting some attention. Though not as much as at the coffee shop the other day. Molly the mayor and psychic counselor, however, is at another table with her girlfriend. She keeps glancing our way with a thoughtful sort of frown.
I shuffle my chair closer to my fake boyfriend and give him a smile. “We’re being observed. Do something coupley.”
He leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead.
Grandma frowns at the display, but doesn’t comment.
“Did you just BBQ me?” I ask.
“No.” He smiles and does a one-shoulder shrug. “A small amount of sauce maybe. But you know how fetching I think you look with food on your face.”
“Such a weird kink.”
“But you respect it, right?”
I laugh.
Grandma ignores our nonsense. However, Molly smiles and turns back to her date. The lengths I would go to avoid doing more counseling. There are no limits.
Things feel lighter tonight. Like the lingering miasma of thoughts and feelings about my breakup have lifted. Guess Nash was right and I needed to give myself space and time to process. Meanwhile, he’s sitting tall at the table and enjoying the scene. The green tee, blue jeans, and boots suit him. I would say they help him to blend in. But he’s six foot four with the face of a male model and muscles for days. Safe to say he was never going to disappear into the crowd.
“And next we have Nash with ‘You Were Always On My Mind’ by Elvis Presley,” announces the karaoke hostess.
