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I duck my face from a group of browsing customers, avoiding any lingering stares. “Thanks. I won’t be long.”
Through thick-framed glasses, he winks and rounds the counter. “Take your time. I’m going for a smoke break.”
Once inside the backroom where I’ve been stashing my electric keyboard set up, I close the door and whisper, “Hello, beautiful.”
I pull the seat out and shake my arms loose.
Every Wednesday, at three o’clock, I come here to get my fix. I’m like an addict, sneaking around and hiding my love for playing the piano—but when Garrett and I split, I lost the space he allowed me to use at his apartment, and this is the only place I can play.
My eyes close as the tips of my fingers flutter over the keys. I start with something light and soft to warm up, but as usual, my heart and soul crave a sound more dramatic. Preferably one to match my sour mood.
Against every stubborn cell in my body, I decided to take Sam’s offer. It stings that Dad still hasn’t told me the truth about the house, but as much as I hate to admit it, I’m not in a position to look a gift horse in the mouth.
I breeze through the first two songs with my heart in my throat. For weeks now, I’ve managed to avoid playing Mom’s song here, but it’s hard to resist when I desperately need her comfort.
Leaning over the keys, my chest fills with an unbearable ache as I play the song I recorded for her funeral.
Dad doesn’t know I wrote it, and I’ll never tell him. To admit that I’m passionate about this will only give him more reasons to encourage me to sell her shop. He’ll want me to pursue some sort of passion project, but that can’t happen. Especially when I know I’ll find a way to keep our home and her pride and joy safe.
The last high note strikes the air, leaving me in a room heavy with silence. Just like every time I play, tears stream down my cheeks, and dark droplets fall onto my thighs, tinging my trusty denim overalls.
A succession of knocks startles me from my seat. Clyde’s face is a mask of worry when he opens the door and the faint aroma of cigarette smoke follows. “Hey, Molly. You may want to step outside real quick. Looks like someone’s trying to tow your car.”
Blood swiftly drains toward my feet. “What?”
Grabbing my backpack, I scramble around him, and sprint for the front of the store. I weave in and out of aisles filled with classic records until I finally make it outside, and once my shoes hit the pavement, I take off down the sidewalk as fast as I can.
“Hey! Wait!” I call out to the person cranking up the front end of my sporty SUV with the hook attachment of a beat-up tow truck.
I’m relieved to see Huey behind the wheel when I jog up to the open window. Dad has done plenty of repair jobs for him and his wife, so surely, we can sort out this obvious mix up.
“Miss Molly,” he greets me, but he’s staring straight ahead, even though I’m practically hanging halfway inside the window.
“Huey, what the hell is going on?”
He shifts the truck into drive but keeps his foot on the brake. “Garrett sent in a request to retrieve his vehicle.”
“And?” My molars mash together. “This is my car. He’s the one who gave it to me!”
Slowly releasing the pedal, he lets the truck roll forward.
“Wait, wait, wait! Come on, Hue. You don’t believe me?”
He shoots me a skeptical look as I follow beside the truck.
“That jerk paid you extra to do this, didn’t he?” When he looks forward again, I slap the side of the door angrily. “Didn’t he?”
“Look, Mol, it’s not like I want to do this, especially with the rumors I’ve heard about your folks’ place being in foreclosure.” Pity leaks into his gaze, but his words are a slap to the face.
Did someone at the bank blab about us potentially losing our home?
Damn small towns.
“He just wants his car back, and I couldn’t say no to the check he cut. It’s enough to afford me and Meredith time off together when the baby gets here, and you know how excited she is.”
Of course I know. Piper and I are the ones who threw her a baby shower at the flower shop, and this is how he repays me?
The nerve of Garrett, going behind my back and making a show of embarrassing me instead of just asking for the car back himself. The same car that, regardless of it being a ‘sorry I screwed up and forgot the day you were born’ gift, I can’t afford to lose.
