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I don’t think that’s ever going to happen, but the rumors spun out from the night we sat on the porch of my house, guitars in both our hands, and played around with some of our old tunes. Of course, a video of that impromptu jam session made it onto TikTok and promptly went viral, and Roger called me up to offer me a chance to get back into that life. I told him no. This monthly gig in Occidental is just fine.
Jason catches sight of me and waves me over to the bar. He pours me a club soda with a bit of lime and slides it across the bar top as I sit down.
“How you doing tonight, Ben?” he asks, and I can’t keep the grin on my face from getting bigger.
“Pretty good,” I say, and he snorts at the understatement while I take a sip of the drink. “Looks like you’ve got a good crowd tonight, huh?”
“Yeah, we do. So, about that. We got a kid came in who wanted to do a couple of songs, offered to be kind of an opening act for you. Would that be all right with you?”
I shrug. “No worries. Kid any good?”
It’s Jason’s turn to grin. “Bit rough around the edges, but I think he’s got some talent.” He taps the bar with his fingertips, then tells me to let him know if there’s anything I need before he gets the show started.
I wave him off. There’s nothing I need right now, so I rest my guitar case against the bar, pick up my drink and turn toward the stage to wait for the show.
About fifteen minutes later, Jason comes out on the little stage he and Loraine built. He brings out the wooden stool and places it center stage, then brings out the mic stand and taps the mic a few times to get everyone’s attention.
“Welcome, everyone, to the Hopping Jack. I hope you’re ready for some good music, good food, and good times this evening.” The audience cheers. “Great. So, normally, we’ve just got Ben Hollister on our roster, but tonight we’ve got something a little different. We’ve got a new kid who wants to try out a couple of songs, and I told him we could give him a chance to say what he needed to say. Think you can do that?” There are more cheers, shouts of yes, and you bet, and Jason’s grin turns mischievous. “Awesome. I told him you all are the best audience and would give him a warm welcome.”
He starts clapping, and the audience follows his lead. It hasn’t missed my attention that he didn’t tell them the singer’s name, but I know why as soon as he walks onto the stage. Oh, he’s got a baseball cap pulled low, and he keeps his chin down so the spotlight doesn’t quite catch his face as he settles on the stool. He pulls the mic closer, starts to speak with a voice so soft the audience immediately quiets so they can hear him.
“Hi there,” he says, and they laugh. “I’ve got one request, and you’ll understand it in a minute, but I’m going to ask you to put your phones down and don’t record this. If it sucks, I don’t want any evidence.”
He shrugs, and there’s a bit of laughter from the audience again, but, for the most part, they’re all putting their phones aside.
“Thank you,” he says and starts strumming idly on the guitar. “This is kind of a new thing for me, and I’m not afraid to tell you I’m a little nervous about singing it for you fine people. But,” he lifts his head, looks right at me and grins. “I ain’t got time for any of that because right now, I’ve got a song to sing for someone who means the world to me.”
There are a couple of gasps as people recognize Dillon, but they’re quickly shushed as he starts playing for real. I finally recognize the music and gasp myself. It’s that tune I kept humming, that I couldn’t get out of my head. Dillon’s taken it and turned it into a song. For me. And then he starts to sing.
When did you and me
Stop being our destiny?
When did it all
Fall apart?
You standing there
Me waiting here
Trying to mend the
Broken pieces
Of our two hearts?
But we’ve still got
That same old love
That’s turning me round
Talking me down
Bringing me back to you.
That same old love
