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Finally, here’s the big finish. The guys are all singing with Vanessa's sweet voice floating on top of all of us, her hands moving fast over the body of the guitar. The chord hangs in the air for a few more seconds, rising up to the exposed wooden rafters.
“You guys, that was amazing!” she exclaims. “We sound good together!”
“Of course we do, baby,” I whisper against the back of her ear, wrapping my hands around her narrow little waist. “Course we do.”
She kicks up those pink little heels, standing up as she dances away from me, placing a sweet, precious kiss on Hank’s mouth.
“That whistling is something else,” she gushes. “You're like a pro!”
“Oh, brother Henry considered investing time on the competitive whistling circuit,” Hank jokes dramatically. “It was only his duties shoveling out the barn that kept him from those hallowed halls of whistling stardom.”
“You laugh, but competitive whistling really is a thing,” she insists. “He's really good! You should appreciate him.”
“Oh, we appreciate him all right. Up and down every row of the orchard. We appreciate him in the springtime, in the summertime, and through every fucking harvest for the last twenty-five years. I'm all appreciated out, to tell you the truth!”
Hank flips us all the bird, holding his hands high over his head and rotating them around the room.
“Yeah, Vanessa, these jerks have a point. You might think it's great now. But in five years, you'll probably be sick of it too,” Hank shrugs, rolling his eyes.
“In five years, I can't imagine being sick of any of this,” she shrugs. “I feel like I can do this forever.”
The room falls silent as we all look at each other uncomfortably.
“What? What did I say?” she mutters. “Am I wrong? Are you guys bored already?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that!” Charlie insists. “Actually… we want to talk to you.”
She sits down on the edge of the couch and folds her hands in her lap. I'm distracted by the way the skirt rides up over her knees. It's my day with Tom. I'm ready to get this show on the road so we can get back to business.
“Okay, so, talk,” she shrugs.
“Yeah… well, you remember us talking about an international deal, right?”
“I remember,” she nods.
“Well, it's come time that we need to make a decision. We're leaning toward Germany.”
He holds out his hands, looking at his palms, then lets them drop.
“Oh, I see,” she says, her voice choked. I watch her bite her lips together as her cheeks start to redden. “Well, that's all right. I wasn't really thinking that we would —”
“Oh no!” Charlie blurts out, rushing toward her and taking her hands in his. “I mean, we want you to come with us! I mean, would you? I mean, if you want to —”
“Come with you?” she repeats, her eyes wide and confused. “But I thought you were telling me you were leaving? What are you saying?”
Stan strides over to her, cuffing Charlie on the shoulder.
“I think would Charlie was trying to say, and failing to say, that we would love it if you would think about coming with us. You know. Staying with us.”
“Staying with you where?”
“Oh, it's a little place in Germany. Bavaria actually. Do you happen to speak German?”
“A little, actually,” she confesses shyly.
“See? It's perfect,” Stan smiles.
“It does sound pretty amazing,” she says in a small voice. “Is it all right if I think about it?”
