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While there’s a decent crowd, it’s not too packed. I find a two-top table open in a corner and grab a seat. The server comes by and takes my drink order, and promises that my tea will be right out before darting away.
I watch the stage while I wait, where a guitar player is setting up, tuning and adjusting an amp. He looks insanely familiar, but the lighting in here isn’t great, nor is my view of the stage from the angle I’m at, so I can’t quite place him.
And considering how long I’ve lived here, it wouldn’t exactly be a surprise to run into someone I know.
He finishes setting up his instrument and moves on to the microphone. He speaks into it to run a mic check, a simple “Check one, two. Check one, two,” and the voice is even more familiar than the glimpses of his face.
My brow furrows. I definitely know this guy, but the pieces aren’t coming together. “Charlie, can you hear me in the back?” he asks.
A guy off to my right, presumably Charlie, raises a thumbs-up as the server drops off my tea.
“Awesome. Hey, everyone, hope you’re all having a good time tonight. My name’s Todd Whitlock, and I’ve got an original song to share with you, hope you like it.”
My jaw drops in a mixture of surprise and delight as the man’s identity sinks in. Todd was actually my supervisor at an old job of mine. He wasn’t the “boss,” so to speak, just a step above me, not that he ever acted like it. He and I had quickly become friends, although we didn’t get much opportunity to hang out outside of work.
He’d been working two jobs at the time and helping his dad care for his mother. I knew she was sick, but I’d never pressed for details. So his schedule hadn’t left him a lot of free time.
I’d developed a little bit of a crush on him, but since he was my superior, I knew he was strictly off-limits. And then his parents made the decision to move to Maine, and he received an amazing job offer out there and opted to go with them and continue helping his family.
I’d been sad when he left, and his absence had sucked a lot of joy out of the job. Without him there, I started realizing how much I actually hated the place, and a few months after his departure, I’d handed in my own two weeks’ notice.
I had no idea he was back in town, and I wonder if he’s here just for a visit, or if he’s moved back. But when he starts to strum his guitar, I find myself struggling to hold onto any coherent thought.
The melody is lovely and I can’t think about anything else. It sucks me in, sweeping me off my feet, and when he starts to sing, I’m breathless.
I’m a decent singer and all, having spent most of my high school years in choir. But all of my karaoke confidence is blown out of the water by the deep, ethereal voice echoing around the room.
I never had any idea he could sing like this. He’d mentioned in passing that he played the guitar, but it was mostly him lamenting a lack of time to practice.
I lose myself in the song completely, and when it’s over, I almost want to cry, not wanting it to be done.
The room erupts in applause, and I join in with a standing ovation. Todd has a massive grin on his face as he takes a little bow. “Thank you.”
With that simple farewell, he steps off the stage, moving off to the side to pack up his guitar while the next act steps up. I head over and tap him on the shoulder. “How was Maine?” I ask playfully.
He turns around, an expression of surprise and confusion on his face, but when he sees my face, the expression melts into one of surprised delight. “Marlene! Hey, how are you?” he wraps me in a warm, affectionate bear hug.
“I’m doing okay,” I reply, the words coming out slightly muffled with the way he’s crushing me to his chest, “How are you?”
He releases me and flashes me a grin. Up close, that smile of his is enough to make me a little weak in the knees. “I’m great,” he replies.
“Yeah, you are, I had no idea you could sing like that! That was amazing!”
He laughs sheepishly, his face reddening a little bit. Fuck, that’s adorable. “Thank you.”
“So, I thought you moved,” I tell him, “Are you back, or just visiting?”
“I’m back,” he tells me, explaining that his mother had passed away about a year ago, and after a while, he’d decided that Maine just held too many painful memories, so he’d come back about two months ago.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I told him with regards to his mother.
“Thanks. It still hurts, but things have definitely been easier since I left,” he says, “And it’s been great to get back in touch with some old friends.”
The last part is added with a pointed little smile, and I flush with pleasure. “Well, hey, are you here with someone?” I ask, “I’ve got a table in the back if you wanna join me.”
“Nah, it’s just me. And I would love to.”
I lead him back to the table and he sits down across from me. He orders a cup of the same tea I’m drinking, and the two of us immediately fall into easy, comfortable conversation.
