Sindy Cavanaugh always considered herself a musician, although she knew she’d never be able to support herself playing the guitar. Without a band to back her, she was a rogue rocker. If she could sing better, maybe people would drop more than a few coins her way, but she was grateful for every penny. Although she made decent money waiting tables at the diner, she needed extra money in order to move into a decent apartment, so she turned to her skills as a guitarist. Playing inside the local coffee shop, instead of on the beach, provided shelter from the inclement weather and a free latte.
A five-dollar bill landed in her guitar case, and she immediately looked up at the girl who deposited it there. They looked to be about the same age, only this girl had a layer of coolness about her that blew Sindy away. From her rich black hair to her studded platform stiletto boots, this chick rocked.
“Don’t stop. You play really well.” The girl’s friendly smile mimicked her generosity.
Sindy continued with the song, her voice cracking in the same place it always did when she couldn’t reach the high note inWelcome to the Jungle. She made up for it with a few extra notes on the guitar. Insecure about her singing voice, but confident in her proficiency on the guitar, she focused on her chord progression and jazzed up the song by putting a spin on the riff. She didn’t realize that her vocals had dwindled to barely a mumble until this cool-looking chick took over.
She had the voice of a star, with an edgy rock and roll vibe. Her vocals were strong and loud, obviously that of an experienced singer. When the song ended, a group of patrons stood in front of them, instead of sitting with their heads buried in their phones or laptops, lost in their own little world like they usually did. A round of applause erupted, and the guitar case overflowed with cash and coins. Sindy hopped off the stool, thanked everyone, and collected the money from her case. Holy shit. There had to be fifty bucks in there.
“Great name.” It was the singer, still lingering, probably waiting for her cut while mostly everyone else went back to what they were doing. The girl pointed to the lettering on the guitar case. “I like the play on the spelling. Sindy with an “S” instead of a “C”. It’s really cool. I’m Tessa.”
“Thanks. I wanted something different. Edgy.” Sindy shuffled the bills so they faced the same direction while she counted it. Forty-one dollars, not including the change. She hated parting with the money, but she couldn’t keep it all for herself when this girl is the one who garnered the crowd. She split the cash in half and extended it toward Tessa. “Here’s your half.”
“I don’t want that. It’s yours.”
“No. Take it.” Sindy waved the money in her hand. “It would have taken me all day to make this. You deserve it. You’re a phenomenal singer.”
“Thank you. But keep it.”
“No. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Seriously, I’m not taking it. Just buy me a cup of coffee, and we’ll call it even.”
They sat at a small bistro table, Sindy with a latte, Tessa with a regular coffee. “Do you sing professionally?” Sindy asked. “Are you in a band?”
Tessa nodded. “Yes. My brother plays guitar, our friend plays the drums, and I sing and play the bass. The three of us have been playing together since we were kids. Not professionally, though. We’ve been playing the neighborhood bars and clubs.”
“You play and sing?” Sindy was doubly impressed. “You’re multi-talented.”
Tessa let out a short modest laugh. “Thanks. Singing is easy. Learning the bass was hard. What about you? Are you with a band?”
“No. Never,” Sindy replied. Tessa stretched out her legs next to the table and crossed her ankles, causing Sindy’s eyes to drop to Tessa’s cut up jeans. “I love your style. Did you make those yourself?”
“Yeah. I like to play with fashion. I messed up the seam, though. Over here.” Tessa pointed to a tiny stitch on the outer seam by her knee.
“You mean you actually made them, as in you sewed them?” Sindy was astonished. This girl was phenomenal on all levels.
“Yeah. My mom taught me to sew.”
“That’s amazing. I just thought you shredded them yourself.”
“I did that too. I can show you if you want. Sometime. Do you live around here?”
“I moved here from Baltimore about a year ago. I really don’t know many people,” Sindy admitted. “So that would be great.”
“What do you do for fun?”
Sindy wished she had more free time. Fun was a thing of the past. Her life had become nothing but work and worry. “I waitress at Justine’s, near the boardwalk. I pull a lot of double shifts, so I’m almost always there. Stop in for a burger or some pie. On me.”
