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Abilene groans. "I'm not legal," she says. "I'm still 20. Can you believe it? I should probably get a fake ID."
He chuckles. "That would be unnecessarily risky. It turns out you can just hang out with your boss and get her moonshine."
She grins. "Yeah, probably. Nah, I'm not a drinker anyways."
"Me either," I say.
Holt nods. "Yeah, I'm not much of one myself."
"Then why are you going to a bar on a Friday night?" I ask, not buying his story. "A man as hot as you at a bar…" I roll my eyes. "You're looking for trouble." My eyes widened as I realize I said all of that out loud.
Abilene laughs. "Oh my God, you're crushing." Holt's cheeks turn a little pink and I smile, appreciating that he accepted the compliment.
"Can I tell you a secret?" he says, dipping a fry in ketchup. "I don't go for the booze. I go to the Tipsy Cow for one reason and one reason only."
"Devil on the Highway?" Abilene asks.
He shakes his head. "No, they're good, but that's not why. I'm a dancer."
"A dancer," I say, surprised. "Tell me more."
"I like to line dance," he says, shrugging. "Maybe it's kind of cheesy or lame. I don't know. Maybe I'm old."
"You're not old,” I say.
"No?"
"No," I smile, admitting that I think it's kind of cute that Holt Stone is a line dancer. He looks so manly, so gruff. But he also has a childish smile about him, a grin, a playfulness that I don't see around my life very often. I'm never playful. Never childish. Rarely silly.
"Hey," Abilene says. "You should go to the Tipsy Cow tonight with Holt, go dancing. Don't you love to dance?"
I snort. "I never dance," I say. "I've never gone line dancing in my life."
"Perfect, he can teach you."
Holt smiles. "You want to? That would be fun."
I shake my head. "No, I don't want to. I mean, I don't not want to. I just can't." I pick up a dish cloth and begin washing that empty table in the center of the diner, making sure I am getting far, far away from Abilene and Holt and their scheming plans for tonight. Besides, it's not even a possibility. I can't go. My life won't allow me.
"Hey, Ms. Cassidy, can we get our bill?" the older man in the corner asks.
"Of course." I hand him his tab and he smiles, pressing his hand to mine.
"Here you go, miss, and you keep that change. I know you've got those young ones at home, sweet songbird that you are. Have you ever thought of coming to the Cherry Falls Festival?"
I smile. "I haven't been to that festival in years."
"You ought to come,” he says. "Listen, I'm Hank Heraldine, and I run that festival. We're always looking for performers, and I know you used to sing when you were a little girl."
I smile. "I haven't sung in a long time, Mr. Hank."
"Well, if you change your mind, we always got room for you."
"I appreciate it," I say. "Thanks for coming in."
"Oh, we always come in here on Friday nights. Joe and I, we've been friends since school. It's our one night off from the missus."
Joe and Hank leave the diner and I peek at the tip they left, $50. My eyes widen in surprise. It feels much too generous for their pot roast and potatoes. There's always this sense of guilt I feel at the generosity of other people in this town. In the Ranch Lands and Cherry Falls and even Kissme Bay, my name follows me. The things that happened to me follow me, and while I appreciate everyone's kindness to me, it’s still hard to accept their generosity.
I slip the money in my pocket, and as I close out their tab, I know that extra cash will come in handy when it's helping me pay for Joanne's piano lessons next week. With that done, I think Annie and Carrie Jo are going to be here any moment to relieve me of my shift.
" I have an idea," Abilene says.
"What's that?" I ask, refilling Holt's cup of coffee.
"Well," she says, "I'm going to babysit tonight."
"Babysit?" I say.
"Yeah, isn't that great?"
Holt's eyes fall to his food and he focuses on his hamburger, as if not wanting to touch the truth; my truth, my whole messy history.
"You don't have to do that, Abilene. You probably have something fun to do tonight. You do not have to babysit my four siblings. No one wants to do that.”
"I want to do that," she says. "Seriously, you never do anything fun. You deserve a night out. You're 21, take advantage of the opportunity. You probably haven't even been to a bar since you were legal."
I laugh. "I actually haven't. I thought about getting a beer for my birthday, but then remember Sarah had that fever and it became a whole thing?"
