AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Are you sure?
I’m sure.
What if you’re wrong?
I’m not.
But it doesn’t matter that IknowI don’t need to count them, because Ifeellike I do. It doesn’t matter that I’m pretty sure I’m right, when there is a tiny part of me that worries I could be wrong. It doesn’t matter that I know I have to sit with the anxiety to feel betterin the long run, when all I want is to feel better right now. I don’t want to spiral over some photographs with Raine sitting across from me.
I don’t want to count them. I don’t need to count them.
But I do it anyway.
Ten
Until Raine started working here, I knew exactly what to expect whenever I stepped inside this pub. But by the last week of January, I find myself pausing at the door to make sure I’ve got only good thoughts in my head before stepping inside, because now I never know what I’ll find, and for whatever reason, my brain has decided that if I walk inside with only good thoughts in my head, then whatever I find will be good.
It doesn’t make sense. I know that. But it doesn’t stop me from telling myself the compulsion is just a moment ofmindfulnessand not a big deal anyway.
Today, I find Dave, one of the Old Codgers, seated at the bar with an acoustic guitar in his lap. I’ve known the man since I was a boy, but I had no idea he spent his twenties as a touring musician. Not until he showed up to our first Tambourine Tuesday with his guitar and some of the wildest stories I’ve ever heard.
Today Raine sits beside Dave at the bar. The two of them are turned toward each other. She has Sebastian in her lap and is absentmindedly stroking his fur as she watches Dave play.
I linger at the other end of the bar for a moment and watch Raine as she listens. When the song ends, Raine leans closer to him and says, “Can you show me that second chord you played in the bridge?”
“Our Raine here is going to be a world-famous musician, you know,” I say, giving Dave a clap on the shoulder before sinking onto the empty barstool beside him.
Raine laughs. “I might need more than a foot tambourine to become a world-famous musician.”
I shoot her a grin. “Dunno about that. You’re at least the second-best foot-tambourine player I’ve ever heard. I think if you practiced a bit more, you could eventually be first.”
“And who’s first?”
“It’s a tie between Josie and Tiny Jack,” I say, thinking of the other day when Nina brought the girls to the pub for dinner. Somehow Raine ended up sitting cross-legged beneath one of the tables with Josie and Jacqueline. I sat at a nearby table with Nina and Ollie, watching Raine and the girls pass the tambourine around for a game I didn’t quite understand. Both of my nieces sat as close to Raine as they could, their faces eager as they waited for their turn to shake the tambourine. I watched for a few minutes, trying not to laugh at how serious the girls looked—faces red, brows scrunched—whenever they had the tambourine in hand. Raine seemed to take the game as seriously as they did, but then I noticed the slight twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips. After a particularly enthusiastic turn from Josie, Raine caught me watching and her control slipped. I couldn’t help but laugh at how she had to cover her mouth with her hands to keep the girls from seeing.
“I can’t argue with you there,” Raine says. “Those girls have raw talent.” She drops her gaze to Dave’s guitar and sighs. “I really miss playing.”
“Well, here you go, girl,” Dave says. He holds out the guitar to her. “Play us something.”
When Raine takes the guitar from Dave and settles it on her lap, her hands are in motion right away, plucking out a pattern as if it’s second nature. She sits a bit taller. Her shoulders seem more relaxed than they were moments before. She doesn’t look like a different person, exactly, but she looks more like herself. Not that I know anything about it, seeing as I haven’t even known her for a month.
When Raine tries to give Dave his guitar back, he refuses to take it. “Borrow it if you like.”
“I couldn’t...” she says, though I notice her grip on the instrument tightens.
“Just for while you’re here. It’s no fancy Gibson, but it should hold you over. I’ve got another at home.”
Before Raine can respond, I nudge her shoulder with mine. “You only turn down free stuff once, remember?”
Raine looks at me, then at Dave, and then down at the guitar in her hands. I think there are tears in her eyes, but she blinks them away before I can be certain. “Thank you,” she says. “Really, you have no idea what this means to me.”
“Ah, but I do, darling,” Dave says. “You have that look.”
“What look?”
“The look of a musician.”
Raine doesn’t say anything, but her fingers are still moving, playing a soft melody I don’t recognize. When she looks at Dave and me again, she’s got a gentle smile on her face. “Any requests?”
