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“Why’s that?”
“He won’t say, but every time a band wants to take him on the road, Mickey won’t go. I mean, he starts off wanting to, but when the rubber hits the road, he backs out.”
I wanted her to know he had commitment issues. I felt sure he’d come around to loving his daughter, but it might take him a little time.
“Sounds like he doesn’t like to stray too far from home.”
“Something like that.” I had my own theory about Mickey and why he couldn’t commit to anything that took him away from this town, but now wasn’t the time to share those beliefs.
“And you? Why are you still here, Scotty? I thought if anyone would’ve left this small town, it would’ve been you.”
From what she knew of me, she was right. That was all I talked about when I was a kid, how I’d leave this town as soon as I turned eighteen. Go to college, get some high-paying job, move to a big city, and fly home for the holidays.
That never happened.
There were way too many reasons why I’d hung around, but I didn’t want to get into them now. Not here. One of them was simply that I loved living in this area. My family lived in Cricket, and when my mom got sick… well… I just didn’t care about leaving.
“I did leave,” I told her, straight faced. “I don’t live in Sweet Whiskey anymore.”
“Moving to Cricket is hardly leaving your hometown. What is it… an hour up the road?”
“About that, yeah, but it’s not Sweet Whiskey.”
I tried to make light of it, but I sounded pathetic.
“You work in Sweet Whiskey. Why on earth would you live in Cricket?”
“I’m still trying to figure that one out. Can I get you another drink?”
This wasn’t the time to tell her about my mom and all the health issues she’d had, or the fact that my mother’s only sister couldn’t seem to break away from her own family long enough to even pay our mom a visit. Or the fact that the whole thing overwhelmed our dad, and I had no choice but to step up. Not that I wouldn’t have done just that on my own, but seeing him so distraught caused me to step up faster than I’d planned.
But that was a story for another time. My mom was doing a lot better now and didn’t need me as much… which was why I spent most of my week living with Mickey.
“Yeah. Thanks. I’m hoping to catch a ride home with Colt. I came in with Daryl.”
That stopped me cold. After that fight, Daryl needed to lay low for a few days. At least until we got this whole baby thing sorted out with Mickey. He was still in shock, and the fact that he agreed to play backup guitar tonight said a lot. He was trying to cope the only way he knew how, by playing music.
“Don’t tell me he’s here?”
“He’s not. Dropped me off and went over to meet a friend at Last Call in Cricket.”
“Smart man. Let me freshen your drink for you.”
“Thanks,” she said, and I went off to get her another drink, thinking now that my mom was well again, and my dad was back to keeping his shit together, I needed a place of my own here in Sweet Whiskey. Living with Mickey wasn’t a long-term solution.
By the time I poured CindyLou’s second margarita and delivered it, Hot Sugar was back onstage, blowing the crowd into the next stratosphere with their music. Connie Manors had to be one of the hottest singers in country right now. Everyone loved her, and not just for her music. She was a sweetheart in every sense of the word.
The thing about Hot Sugar that most of their fans didn’t know, was that they were in a relationship… all four of them, together. When I’d first heard about it, I thought for sure that couldn’t be true. What guy would want to share his woman with two other dudes? Didn’t seem possible. Then I heard about all the other folks who were in the same type of relationship. Hell, we had a few more right here in Sweet Whiskey who played here at Dirty Coyote. And over in Cricket… there were at least four or five polyamorous relationships… successful relationships.
Which got me to thinking, why couldn’t we have that kind of relationship with CindyLou? Maybe it didn’t work the last time we’d tried it, but seeing Hot Sugar perform had me wondering about the possibilities in a new light.
And just like God himself sent me the answer to my question, Daryl walked up to the bar, catching my attention, trying to order a beer. No way in hell could we have any kind of relationship with CindyLou as long as Daryl still walked on this planet. He’d kill all three of us as sure as sunshine.
“Didn’t think you’d show up here so soon,” I said as I handed him a beer. He tossed the cash on the bar like he had no intention to hang around longer than the one beer.
“Last I heard, I ain’t been banned from the place,” he said. “Sides, I like this here band, so I thought I’d stop by for a listen. Any harm in that?”
“None whatsoever,” I told him, but I already spotted Tammy heading our way, and she didn’t look happy. I gave her a wide berth.
