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As for me, I found myself standing there, without a job. No one had known who would be around when this moment came, but since I could’ve been at work and unable to break free, they hadn’t given me a role to play here.
“Honey,” Momma said on her way out the door, “do me a favor and clean up the table, would ya? I don’t know how long we’ll be there and?—”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, shaking my head as my old man and Grant Cole exited out the back with fresh beers in hand.
The rest of them piled into cars and set off. A new little life was about to join this messy, wonderful family, and everything else: the worries, the what-ifs, the complicated dance between Paisley and me—faded into the background as I watched the commotion.
But then, alone in the house after being abandoned by the guys who knew their presence at the hospital wouldn’t be needed straightway, something odd settled into my chest. I rubbed it absently as I stared at the table, loaded with half-eaten pot roast and discarded napkins.
Then my eyes settled on the empty place setting at the opposite end of the table. It was where Paisley always sat—as far away from me as she could get. I didn’t know how it started, or even when. Our family seating chart had been shaken up more than once in the last few years thanks to new additions.
Had Paisley picked that seat after I’d already been seated so she could keep her distance? Or had I done it after seeing where she’d chosen to sit? Shoot, maybe we’d been unoffically assigned those seats by the family since they seemed to be well aware of the… tension between us.
Nah. I discarded that idea just as quickly as it’d come. If my family had a say in it, they would’ve sat us right next to each other. There was nothing they loved more than supper with a show.
Thinking of Paisley had me wondering if anyone had called her to tell her about Bailey going into labor. It’d make sense for them to forget considering the rest of the family was there and knew what was going down. She’d want to be there for them. Even if it was only to run back and forth between the waiting room and the cafeteria, so everyone stayed fed and hydrated while they waited for news.
Even though I was pretty sure I was the last person she’d want the news from, I’d still call her and give her a head’s up. If I could, of course. But since I didn’t have her number, I guessed she’d just have to hear about it whenever someone else made the call.
13/
paisley
take it back now, y’all:
[title]
“Pais, seriously. Stop working. Have fun!”
I looked up at Laney, then back down at the two plates I had balanced in my left hand while I filled them with my right. [describe the spread of food at the party]
“I’m not workin’,” I replied with a shrug, dropping a stuffed mushroom onto my plate.
Laney tilted her head. “You’re not fixin’ plates for guests?”
“Lane, I’m your manager, not a cocktail server.”
“Wouldn’t put it past you to take on a job that wasn’t yours if it needed doin’, my friend.”
Shaking my head, I went back to plating the dishes as I felt heat rise to my cheeks. I hadn’t been Laney’s manager for very long, but we’d clicked so well since the start that if she’d met a man was blushing like a schoolgirl over him only minutes later, I’d want her to tell me about him. Shouldn’t I do the same?
Besides, I may have been her manager, but she had just called me her friend, hadn’t she?
“So... are they both for you, then?” she asked.
That was what i loved about Laney Cole. She may have recelty skyrocketed into superstardom, but she was a sweet, genuine, small-town girl at heart. And just like any other small-town girl, she knew hot gossip when it was right in front of her.
“Nope. One is for a masked man whose name I don’t even know, and I’m not sure I wanna.”
Laney had looked gleeful at my first words, but then her face changed into one of confusion by the end of my sentence. “Wait, why wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t know, maybe it’s the theme of the party. Keepin’ the mystery of the masquerade or somethin’. Or maybe it’s because I know we’ll never see each other again, so what’s the point?”
Laney frowned, and I could see her trying to come up with a way to object to what she’d likely call negativitiy. But it wasn’t negative. It was proctical. I was too busy flying all over the world with Laney while she took the country music world by storm, and though he hadn’t specifically admitted it, I had a feeling Mr. Just Right for Tonight was in the military. He ghad the haircut, the clean-shaven jawline, and the stance. Not to mention how loyalty seeemed to seep out of his pores in a way that suggested he was one of those guys who would put a “death before dishonor” bumper sticker on the back of their lifted truck.
“Why wouldn’t you see each other again? You’re both here, so that must mean you run in the same circles. It’s not like there was an open invitation for this party.”
I looked up, startled. “How long have you been standing there?”
