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“What’s that?” She nods at my drink. “Coke?”
“Yeah,” without thinking I ask, “You want some?”
“If I plan to stay awake much longer, then yes please, just a sip.”
I lean forward to pull her straw from her glass, but before I get there, she has my straw between her lips. True to her word, all she wanted was a sip, but before I can wipe the look off my face, she sees it.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. You were getting my—” Her mouth clamps shut but her smile tilts the corners of her mouth up. “I usually share with my friends, it’s an old habit.” She reaches for her glass. “You can have my straw, I haven’t used it.”
“No,” I probably say it a little too fast. “It’s cool. We’re friends.” I say it again just to hear it. “We’re friends, Sunny.”
“Yeah, we’re friends, Rhett.”
Another spark passes on the current running between us. I don’t know that it’s a romantic connection, but at this point in my life, I’ll take any connection I can get. Anything that means someone cares that I’m alive in this crazy world.
A cheer from the crowd brings my head around. A groan seeps from my throat. Carl has control of the stage and just about every person in here.
“Hey y’all, it’s great to be back.” Four or five women whoop at that. “Yeah, thanks. I’ve missed you too.” He smiles and the females swoon. I feel a little sick. “Hey, I know you’ve got your requests and whatever, but I thought we’d do something a little different tonight.” Those same women groan like he’s told them they have to pay double for their drinks. “I don’t know if you know this, but I have an older brother.”
Every muscle in my body goes rigid. He wouldn’t. Carl wouldn’t do this to me. The women start whooping again. I’m calculating how fast I’d have to run to make it out the door when he drops his bomb.
“Everett, come on up, do this next one with me.” Carl waves to me like we’re best friends. He knows I hate being in the spotlight. He knows this is the last thing I’d want to do. It’s just another chance for him to make me look like a fool.
I shake my head, trying to look gracious, not terrified. Carl isn’t one to give up easily. He turns back to the crowd. “I think he needs some encouragement. Help me out, would you?” He starts to chant my name, “Rhett, Rhett, Rhett,” until it feels like everyone is following his pied piper act. Except it won’t be them going over the cliff, it’ll be me.
“No thanks,” I shout over the noise, “you take this one.”
Even the rest of the wranglers from the ranch join in the commotion. The room begins to swirl together. I should have gone to the diner. I could be sipping a chocolate milkshake instead of worrying I might puke raw fish on my boots when my nerves meet their limit.
“Awww, it looks like he won’t do it, guys.” Carl meets my eyes from center stage. “I guess singing isn’t in our blood, huh Everett?”
It’s a dig at where I came from. We don’t share blood, a fact he’s never let me forget. That’s why I froze in front of the college admissions rep. I was talking about the ranch and how much I loved it. The rep saw Carl and asked if he was proud of his older brother. Carl was all too quick to correct him.
“My adopted older brother.”
It still rings in my mind, a constant reminder of the way I don’t really fit in. It’s not Dad and Mom for me, it’s Clara and Buddy, my adoptive parents. The people who rescued me from the gutter when no one else wanted me. It was all there in his words, and staring at him, it’s still there. The distance that separates us as family.
Needing to shut him up for once, I rise to my feet. I’m sure he expects me to run, but I’m sick of running. For once, I plan to stand my ground. The cheering rises to near deafening as I take the second microphone. I’ve never done karaoke before. The only time I sing is when I’m alone. Getty heard me once and told me I had a real nice voice. That’s the thread I’ll cling to. I’m sick of Carl getting everything because I refuse to fight back.
“What are we singing,” I tack on, “little brother,” just to annoy him.
Carl won’t drop his smug expression, as if any way I play this, I’ll still lose. “Oh, I think you’ll know it. It feels appropriate.” With a nod, the music starts up. “Jump in when you’re ready.”
Sunny
I’m not sure at first, but I recognize the song quickly. After the intro, Carl’s voice belts out the first verse to Jessie’s Girl by Rick Springfield. His tone suits it perfectly, gravelly, emotional, like he wrote it himself. He planned to humiliate Rhett, it’s not hard to see that. Even if his groupies are fooled, I’m not. The music starts to ramp up, Rhett doesn’t look like he’s planning to come in at all. Silently, I pray he’s able to pull out some kind of performance.
Carl frees his microphone from the stand, controlled, cool, unruffled by the crowd. In fact, he feeds off their energy. He hits every beat of the chorus, not just singing but performing the song like he’s the rockstar while Rhett stands like a statue. My heart goes out to him, wishing he could break through the stage fright.
The second verse begins, still no vocals from Rhett. Half the room sings the song with Carl, an obvious favorite, and for good reason. Some classics never go out of style. Near the middle of the second verse, I witness a mini miracle. Rhett’s hand starts tapping the beat out on his leg. Then his knee starts to bounce along. The guitar swells, building up the second chorus. Rhett unhooks his microphone from the stand and steps in front of his brother. Fear still rules his expression, but he opens his mouth to sing anyway.
Where Carl’s voice is gruff, Rhett’s is smooth and deep, easy to listen to. One of Carl’s groupies grabs at his pant leg. Rhett leaps back, surprised, but his courage swells. Fear flees his expression, and all the confidence he shows when we’re alone breaks free. But even more shocking than Rhett’s secret singing voice, is the look on Carl’s face, like he’s been sucker punched in the gut. Fumbling, he does his best to catch up. When the bridge starts up, Rhett finds me through the gathering crowd of women at the base of the stage. My heart races at the electricity running between us. When the music ramps up for the third time, Carl jumps in with perfect harmony. For a second, the rivalry is gone. They make a perfect pair and create beautiful music together. For a second, they act like brothers.
But all songs come to an end. Despite the cheering, Rhett racks his microphone and jogs down the stage. Even while Carl calls for another round of applause for his brother, Rhett doesn’t break stride until he stops in front of me. Hand extended toward me, he asks, “You ready to go?”
It doesn’t even take me a second to answer. I set my hand in his and follow him. I don’t care where. I’m starting to think it doesn’t matter as long as he’s there.
Chapter 13
