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Eve
The sun was beating down something fierce on Broadway, its rays throwing long shadows across the pavement, nothing like the neon lights that’d take over come nightfall. It was hot as hinges out in the sun, and it was only February. I moseyed down the street, my boots clicking against the sidewalk, each step stirring up a whole cloud of memories around me like the faint echo of a long-lost song. The daytime crowd, a mix of early-bird tourists and locals on their daily hustle, seemed oblivious to my musings, and I had to dodge them.
Drawing closer to Bootsie’s, the place kinda blurred for a second, whisking me back to the days when my biggest frets were keeping track of drink orders and the words to my next tune. Pushing open that door, with its familiar creak and bell, felt like stepping through a portal to my past.
Inside, away from the blaring sun, the smell of beer and furniture polish greeted me like a country song greets the heart, dragging me deeper into yesteryear. The bar was quiet, save for a few regulars scattered ‘round, nursing their drinks and nursing their thoughts. My eyes danced around the room and greeted the old mechanical bull’s first, my old friend, Taco. Then they landed on Celie, her back to the door, busy stocking glasses.
Clearing my throat, I watched as she turned, her face shifting from surprise to pure joy quicker than a hiccup.
“Eve? Is that really you?” Her voice, still laced with that slight rasp from years of shouting over the music and crowds, and a pack of Marlboro Lights a day, was a welcome sound in my ears.
“It’s me, Celie,” I said, the smile on my face feeling as wide as the Mississippi. Nostalgia pulled at my heartstrings. Why had I stayed gone so long?
Celie came around the bar faster than a cat on a hot tin roof, wrapping me up in a hug so tight it could’ve squeezed the breath from a bear.
“Darlin’, I can’t believe it’s you. Been what, three years?” She pulled back, her eyes taking me in like she was trying to memorize my face all over again.
“Three years, three months, and a handful of days,” I replied, my voice just a whisper.
Taking a seat at the bar, the feel of the familiar vinyl under me was oddly reassuring, like coming home after being away too long. I strained my neck to look in the little window leading to the kitchen. “Anyone I know still around?”
“No. Turnover’s a bitch.”
It was just as well. I hadn’t prepared to run into anyone else.
“I’ve been keeping tabs on you, you know. Nashville’s shiny new star songwriter and performer,” Celie said, a hint of pride shining through. “I always knew you were meant for bigger stages than this ol’ place.”
I let out a chuckle, tinged with a bit of the blues. I remembered Celie used to get up and sing with her ex-husband Grady every night. She had a beautiful voice herself and more talent in her little pinky than most.
“Bootsie’s played a big part in getting me to where I am today, Celie. That’s something I won’t ever forget.” I wanted to say I appreciated Grady taking a chance on me, but I didn’t want to bring up her dead ex-husband because before she had made assumptions that weren’t true.
The mood shifted as Celie started wiping down the bar, her gaze drifting away from mine. “Speaking of business, we’re in a bit of a pickle, Eve. What with all the new joints popping up on Broadway and everything else going on with the economy…” Her voice faded, leaving a heavy silence filled with unsaid troubles.
The place was mighty empty compared to the other honky tonks I’d passed. I reached out, my hand finding hers. “What can I do to help, Celie?”
Looking up, her eyes were like two pools of hope sprinkled with desperation. “Would you think about doin’ a show or two here? Just as a favor? Your name could light up the marquee, remind folks what Bootsie’s is all about.”
My name? I didn’t think I’d really made a name for myself. Yet, the request more than flattered me. It hit me deep, harder than I expected. However, taking the stage at Bootsie’s again wasn’t just about doing a favor, it was stepping back into a chapter of my life I thought I’d closed, for better or worse. Also, I avoided Broadway for bigger reasons. But seeing the plea in Celie’s eyes, those reasons didn’t seem to amount to a hill of beans. It’d been three long years.
How could I turn her down?
“Celie, you know I’d move heaven and earth for you and Bootsie’s. Let’s cook up something special, something that’ll remind Nashville why this place is a cornerstone.”
The relief on Celie’s face was as clear as day, her smile brightening the room. “Thank you, Eve. I had a feeling I could count on you. This might just be the thing to turn our fortunes ‘round.”
Wracking my brain for a time to pencil Bootsie’s into my growing to do list, I knew I’d have to talk to Kingpin about performing here again. Nonetheless, I decided to kill two birds with one stone.
“I’ll tell you what,” I opened. Sticking out my hand, I showed off my big wedding ring. “For starters, I’m getting hitched in a couple of weeks. How about I have my big bachelorette party here? I’ll get up and sing a few songs, take some requests and then once I’m back from my honeymoon, we’ll plan something official.”
Leaving Broadway, I felt amazing. I called Connie in the car and told her all about going to Bootsie’s for our night out. She was more than on board. I checked on little Angel and she was as right as rain. Then I made a call to Kingpin.
“Hey, Love, you heading to your Gran’s?” he asked right off.
“How did you know? You ain’t spying again, are you?” We tracked each other on our phones, but I rarely looked.
Kingpin was always in the same place unless he was on a run. If he was on a run, he didn’t take the phone I tracked. I had his only for emergencies number though. My ol’ man checked on me much more than I did him.
“Nah, just figured it’s about time,” he said, playing it off.
