Page 24 of Where the Music Grows

She laughs. “Unless you’ve got better plans?”

I don’t. Not even close.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“Oh ,honey, people were enthralled. They’ll be back tomorrow just to hear you sing. And when they’re here, they’re buying drinks. That’s good for me.”

“Thank you. Can I help?” I ask.

“Sure.” She smiles. “You can use those strong arms and put the chairs on the tables so I can sweep up.”

I start turning chairs over and putting them on the tables. Aggie starts humming softly as she sweeps.

“You know, you’ve got something special, Jack,” Aggie says. “That song about your mom—it wasn’t just good. It was real. People can feel that. It’s not something you can fake.”

“I didn’t think anyone would get it,” I admit. “It’s so personal.”

“That’s the thing,” she says. “The personal stuff? That’s what hits hardest. People don’t want perfect; they want honest. And you gave them that tonight.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I just nod and keep stacking chairs. But her words stick with me, bouncing around in my head like a song I can’t shake. Honest. Is that what I was? For once, it didn’t feel like I was trying to prove anything—just playing because it was all I knew how to do.

And people liked it. I was still freaking out that people actually liked my music.

My mind races with possibilities. If I play a few nights a week, even just for tips...

“Aggie,” I say as we finish up for the night. “I should pay you rent. Or move off your land. Now that I’ve got—”

“Don’t even start,” she interrupts. “You’re not going anywhere. You just made my bar better. That’s payment enough.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I just nod.

The drive back is quiet, but it’s a good quiet. The kind that comes after something important happens and you’re still trying to understand it.

“Get some sleep, rockstar,” Aggie says when we get to her house. “Big day tomorrow.”

I grin. “Yeah. Big day.”

Back at my tent, I count the tips. More than I’d make in a week at the hardware store.

I pick up my guitar one more time and play the song again, softer now, just for me.

For the first time in my life, I know exactly where I’m supposed to be. Now, I feel like I have people listening and I have a lot more I want to say.

Chapter Nine

Jack

I’ve been playing Aggie’s bar for a week, and I actually have money in my pocket and gas in the tank. There’s not a lot of shopping options in town, but that’s okay. There’s a feed store with a nice selection of camping equipment. I’m cool with cowboy camping, but it rained the other night and waking up questioning whether I pissed my own sleeping bag isn’t cool.

I find a cheap tent, big enough for me to sleep in and do a little guitar-playing. I pick up a few more things that will make my current living situation a little better, including a sleeping mat to keep me off the hard ground.

I head over to the grocery store, the only one in town, really. Aggie has been such a huge help to me, I want to do a little something nice for her. Her land is probably worth a fortune, but I know she doesn’t have a lot. That doesn’t keep her from sharing with me.

I’ve been in her kitchen enough times to know the stuff she usually has stocked in the fridge. I add it to the cart along with some stuff for me to keep at my camp. Protein bars, chips, jerky, and extra water.

I drive up to Aggie’s house and find her working in her garden. She’s surprised to see me.

“Hi,” I greet as I hop out of my truck. “I brought you some things.”