Page 16 of Second Chance

“Seems like I’m missing a lot around here.”

“We’re boring,” Hollilyn replies as she returns from serving customers. She dismissively waves a hand before entering the kitchen. The diner is just what you’d expect in a small town. Exposure to the kitchen through a hot window, large coffeepots on a back counter, and an old-fashioned sitting counter with stools. Booths line the opposite wall in the rectangular space. This place is our history, at least on my mother’s side.

“You know Giant runs the brewery now, and Billy manages the pub. Charlie is the mayor like I mentioned, and James, well, he left the family. That should bring you up to date.”

I stare at my sister catching me up on the Harringtons in lightning speed. She always had a crush on James Harrington. He had a dark soul but loved hard, or so Dolores told me.

“What happened to James?”

Dolores glares at me, slowly shaking her head. “I’m reminding you, only so you don’t make a fool of yourself. His son died. And, so did Giant’s wife, so don’t be asking foolish questions of the family no longer living.” Her hand rests on her hip as she admonishes me, and my heart sinks a little. The Harrington boys were like brothers, and it appears I’ve missed some of their sorrows. Something I’m not familiar with creeps under my skin. Guilt, perhaps.

“Jesus. I’m sorry,” I mutter, as my sister continues to shake her head and turn away from me for an order. I’m not looking forward to heading back to Conrad Lodge, but I can’t face my mother yet. Instead, I decide to hang out in the diner a little longer, really taking in the atmosphere. I notice the old beech-colored paneling, the cheap checkered tile, and a crack in one of the stools.

“You need to fix this place up,” I mumble, to which hot coffee covers my fingers wrapped around my mug.

“Oops, sorry. Must be my dilapidated diner distracting me,” Dolores snarks.

“I’m just saying, the place could use a pick-me-up.” My eyes narrow at a wall of images. Is that me? I slowly rise, magnetically pulled to the photos, taking in a memorial of my years with our cousins. Images include Kit—wild-haired and singing her heart out on stage. Newspaper clippings of Tommy and me. Printouts of web stories. Framed concert tickets.

“You came to see us?” I turn to my sister. She didn’t tell me, or I don’t remember. It was nearly twenty years ago.

“You played Atlanta. A few of us went.”

I nod, staring back at the tickets. “Who?” I ask, my heart racing.

“It was a girls’ weekend. Gosh, I don’t know. Probably Mati, Evie, Rachel, myself…” Her voice fades in my head. There’s only one name I’m focused on. Mati. Mati saw me perform. I wonder what she thought of me on stage. I never knew they were there, but then something trickles through my memory.

“There’s a group of girls here to see you,” security tells me.

“When aren’t there women?” Tommy snorts in our dressing room.

I dismiss them because I was married to Kristy.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter to the reflection of my sister in the glass protecting the tickets.

“For insulting the diner?” She sighs. “Forget about it.”

“For…everything.” Dolores’s eyes widen and then she pats me on the shoulder, without much affection for an older sister.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re here now.”

I am, but I’m not staying. Ghosts are all around me.