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“I knew from an early age I wanted to do something to serve others when I grew up. Like most little boys, I was drawn to the idea of being a fireman, policeman, or doctor. But my mother was a mess when she got the news about my father. She was so lost in her grief. It was like she forgot about me. And there was a policeman, Officer McBride, who looked after me. He made sure I had something to eat and contacted my grandparents. Even after that night, he continued to check in on me because he knew my mother wasn’t herself. Then when she…” I pause and click my tongue, unable to say the words out loud. “He was the one who responded to my call. So, I guess you could say he inspired me. I wanted to be able to pay it forward one day—to help someone the same way Officer McBride helped me.”
My confession is met with silence, and I’m too nervous to look over at Lori—too terrified of what I might see in her eyes if I do. Instead, as Smashing Pumpkins’ “Cherub Rock” begins playing on the radio, I turn it up hoping to end the conversation, but Lori only turns it right back down.
“For a story to truly have a happily ever after, the characters must go through and overcome something bad. Otherwise, it’s a flat storyline no one wants to read. It’s those scenes that are hard to read that give a story depth. I think the same can be said for people. It’s the emotional traumas in our lives that make our stories interesting. Each scar they leave behind is a building block for our character.”
My eyes slide over in her direction, meeting her gaze. Lori and I shared this deep moment, and I can’t help smiling at her. She didn’t hide behind some sarcastic comment or shut down altogether. She’s finally letting me in.
She groans, rolling her eyes as her cheeks flush. “Oh, stop grinning at me like an idiot before you blind someone with that smile of yours.”
I laugh, but it quickly fades once I realize my time with her is coming to an end. Today has been great, even though we spent most of it running errands with Gram. I finally feel like I’m getting to know her, and I’m not ready to give that up.
“How badly do you want to go home? I’d like to show you something, if you’re up for it.”
My eyes move back to the road as she shrugs. “Well, I don’t know. What is it you want to show me? I mean, I haven’t showered and I’m still wearing my clothes from last night. I must look awful.”
I chuckle, my gaze flickering to the passenger seat again. Her hair is a moppy mess on her head, and she’s not wearing a stitch of makeup. She looks beautiful, and I want to tell her that so badly, but I know I shouldn’t. “Don’t worry. Doesn’t matter where we’re going.”
She pouts and moans, but I can see the amusement in her eyes. “Fine.”
15
Lori
Spencer pulls up to an old brick building on the outskirts of town, and I search for any signs indicating where he’s taken me. The broken-down lettering above the door is only partly lit, but I can still make out the name Red Rose. Though, that is no help solving the mystery. My eyes wander the nearly empty parking lot until they land on a marque that reads: Two for One on Thursdays and Karaoke/Open Mic on Sundays.
When my eyes snap back to Spencer, he’s smirking at me. “Did you seriously bring me to a bar?”
“I did,” he says, nodding as he rubs his jaw. “But it’s not just any bar. My dad played a lot of gigs at the Red Rose. He used to bring me here all the time. It’s kind of a special place for me.”
My chest tightens as the lump in my throat grows, leaving me speechless. Spencer has already shared so much of himself with me today. Now he’s sharing this place. It all seems so intimate, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. But as he gets out of the truck, I follow him.
He doesn’t wait for me as he makes his way inside, only checking over his shoulder for me once, and I wonder if he’s as nervous about bringing me here as I am about being here. As soon as we walk in the door, people greet him as if he’s Norm walking into Cheers. The bar is dark with Christmas lights streaming across the ceiling. The walls have some type of paneling on them, though that’s barely noticeable due to all the random photographs, signs, and scribbles on them. To the far right is a wooden bar, a few tables scattered throughout the space. In the very back, there are spotlights pointing at a stage with microphones and other musical equipment. It’s not fancy by any stretch of the imagination, but it does look like a suitable place for a musician to practice their craft.
An older couple begins to approach us with huge smiles on their faces, and Spencer places a hand on the small of my back, urging me to step up beside him. The woman reminds me a little of Joan Jett with her short black hair, tight tank top, and tattoos. While the man has more of a Bret Michaels vibe with his long hair, bandanna, and band t-shirt.
“Spencer,” the woman greets him, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “It’s so good to see you.” Her voice is raspy in a way that was probably sexy once—before years of inhaling cigarette smoke.
The woman steps back, and the man reaches out to shake Spencer’s hand. “Hey, man. Are you here to play for us?”
Spencer chuckles, nervously rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes find me. “Uh…maybe.” The couple follows his gaze, and my entire body stiffens, the heat of Spencer’s touch feeling as if it’s burning my skin.
“Who’s this you brought with you?” the woman asks.
“This is my friend, Lori,” Spencer tells them, his eyes flickering to them then back to me. “Lori, this is Tammy.” He gestures to the woman who waves at me, then to the man next to her. “And this is her husband, Tony. They own the Red Rose. I’ve known them pretty much my whole life.”
I swallow the nervous bile in my throat and give them a bright smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Well, ya’ll come on in,” Tammy says, waving for us to follow as she heads back over to the bar.
“Yeah…come get you a drink,” Tony adds, eyeing us over his shoulder as he follows his wife. “Spencer is like family to us, so all drinks are on the house, Lori.”
Spencer’s hand presses on my back willing me forward, and I mindlessly comply, moving toward the bar. I’m so thrown by everything that’s happening, I can’t even think straight.
“I’m driving, so I better not have a drink,” Spencer says as we reach the bar. He removes his hand from my back as he turns to me, and I let out a breath. “Did you want anything?”
I shake my head. “I’m good. I think I’m still recovering from last night.”
Tammy rubs her hands together with excitement. “Does that mean you did come here to give us a little entertainment?”
