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Chapter Four
Raven
“Excuseme,”Isay, leaning over the bar to get the attention of the middle-aged bartender.
“Be right with you, hon,” she says, not even glancing up from the long line of shot glasses set up in front of her. She grabs a bottle of tequila from beneath the bar and flips it upside down, quickly filling the glasses one by one. Somehow, she manages to do it without even spilling a drop.
It’s impressive. I would have poured it all over everything had I tried that. Then again, serving alcohol isn’t something I’ve ever done before. I’ve never drank much of it either. My schedule has always been so jam-packed that it never left a lot of room for going out or partying.
My whole life, I’ve wanted to sing. I’ve poured everything into it. And I’m good at it. Really good. Unfortunately, I’m not great at much else. I never had time to master anything outside of music. It’s worrisome. If Rhys can’t convince Marnie to let me finish school, I’m screwed. I’ll be a mostly trained vocalist with no real-world skills beyond teaching kids to sing.
The bartender places the shot glasses on a tray with a bowl of lemon wedges and lifts a hand, waving over a waitress. As soon as she’s sure the waitress is headed in her direction, she turns to me. Her brown eyes rake over me in a cursory assessment. If she recognizes me from any of the thousand news stories about my dad, she doesn’t react. Her heavily made-up face gives nothing away.
“If you’re drinking, I’m going to need to see some ID,” she says.
“Oh, no.” I quickly shake my head. “I’m not drinking. The guy at the door told me I should talk to you. Um, I found this on a bulletin board?” I thrust the flyer over the bar toward her. “Are you still looking for musicians?”
She takes the flyer and glances it over. Her eyes come back to me for another assessment. This one lasts half a beat longer than the first. “You’re a musician?”
“Yes. I sing and play piano and guitar.”
“What genre?”
“I’m trained in contemporary music, but I can sing anything from opera to the blues to R&B.”
She eyes me for a long, silent moment. “Sing something for me.”
“Right here?” My gaze darts around the bar. It’s only a little after three in the afternoon, but the place is packed. I think the whole island rushed outside as soon as it stopped storming this morning. When I made it downtown a few hours ago, cars were pouring off the ferries in an endless parade. This little island is overwhelmingly busy.
It’s not hard to see why. The entire island is breathtaking. The coast offers a thousand different, beautiful views. Inland, the coast gives way to farmland and dozens of interesting farmstands to explore. Downtown Friday Harbor has everything from restaurants to bars to unique little shops. I’ve been exploring for hours, and I still haven’t even made a dent in it.
I needed something to keep me occupied, though. As soon as the storm cleared, Rhys left for Seattle. He wanted me to go with him, but I didn’t think that was the best idea. Marnie already hates me. I’d rather not make it worse, especially since she’s carrying my little brother or sister. If she doesn’t let me see the baby, it’ll break my heart.
I don’t understand why she didn’t tell me she’s pregnant. What did I ever do to her to make her hate me so much? I know she loved my dad and she’s hurting. I loved him too. But we should be helping each other through this, not pushing each other away. She shouldn’t be alone right now.
When I lost my mom, the only thing that got me through it was not being alone. My dad came to Boston and stayed for weeks after the funeral. He dropped everything to be there for me just to make sure I was okay. He took care of packing up Mom’s apartment in New York, dealing with the insurance, everything. I needed him so much.
Marnie needs people right now too. She’s pregnant and she just lost her husband. I feel bad for being so upset with her yesterday. Of course she doesn’t want me lounging around the house all summer. She doesn’t want to have to take care of me too. Why should she? She has enough to deal with right now. We should be taking care of her, not the other way around.
“Right here,” the bartender confirms.
I inhale a breath and push thoughts of Marnie and my dad from my mind, trying to focus on the here and now. Marnie wants me to take responsibility for myself. Here’s my chance. I just need to convince this woman to give me a shot.
My hands shake, my nerves fluttering as the noise coming from the bar intrudes. It’s loud. Crowded. Hot.
Don’t think about it, I coach myself. This is no different than singing on stage. You can do this. Easy.
“Do you have any requests?” I ask.
“Whatever you want,” she says, eyeing me like she expects me to vomit all over her bar at any moment. And that look…the doubt in her eyes…somehow that steadies my nerves.
I’m used to people doubting me. They’ve been doing it my whole life. As soon as they find out who my father is, they assume I’m just another spoiled little rich girl coasting through on daddy’s money instead of her own talent. They think because I’m a big girl, I don’t belong. Or because I’m quiet, I don’t fit. They take one look at me and assume they know what I’m capable of.
They’re wrong. I’ve been proving them wrong every single day since I was thirteen.
The only song that comes to mind is Islands in the Stream by Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers, so I take a breath, count it off…and belt it out. The bartender’s eyes widen as if she’s surprised. I’m not sure how much she wants to hear, but she doesn’t stop me, so I keep singing.
The bar falls quiet, but I barely notice. When I’m singing, the rest of the world disappears for a little while. The only things that exist are the rise and fall of my voice and the song. I get lost in the lyrics. Between those notes, for just a little while, I’m not alone in the world. I’m riding on the backs of giants, untouched by the painful truths that wait when the music dies. My world isn’t crumbling around me. My parents aren’t gone. I’m not hopelessly in love with a man I can’t have. Everything is exactly the way it should be.
