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Scotty suddenly got all serious, looking, like I hit a sensitive nerve.
“Maybe you shouldn’t compare the two. From what little I know about your dad, and it’s very little, Mickey doesn’t seem to be anything like him. I think you caught Mickey by complete surprise, and he’s trying his best to adjust to being someone’s dad. Hell, he hasn’t even met his kid yet. I’m sure when he does, you won’t be able to pry him away from her.”
Scotty liked to see the best in people, whereas Colt saw folks for who they were. Mickey… well, Mickey… I had no idea what he saw in people, but whatever it was, he had a ton of trust issues. His dad, who was serving time behind bars for selling drugs, was due to get out in three years. At least that was what Mickey told me the last time I saw him. He also told me he hadn’t spoken to his dad in at least five years.
Oh yeah, Mickey had big trust issues.
That was the thing Mickey and I had in common, the catalyst that brought us together that night. We felt sorry for ourselves, and we sought some comfort out in that truck in the parking lot.
Which I would be forever grateful for because I was lucky enough to get Darci out of the deal. I just hoped that Mickey would come to his senses and not end up the exact same kind of dad we both grew up with.
Fifteen minutes later, Scotty pulled up in front of my new home, Colt’s place. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow night, then. Looking forward to it.”
“Thanks,” I answered. “You want to come in?” I wanted to get to know him better before we started working together. He’d been so kind to me today, but conversations and actions were always different at night. I wanted to get to know nighttime Scotty a bit better… maybe a whole lot better. Besides, I’d just remembered he had some kind of quirky gift when it came to music. “I’ve been working on a song I’d like you to hear. Not that I have any intention of performing it myself, but maybe I can sell it to one of the local bands. There seem to be more bands per capita in this area than I’d ever imagined. Anyway, I’m having trouble getting the overall melody right. Maybe you can help if you’re up for it. I know it’s late and…”
“Love to,” he answered even before I could finish my sentence. “I just happen to have my guitar behind the seat. When I stay with Mickey, sometimes I help him practice. I’m unusual when it comes to music. I can hear it once and play it. Don’t ask me how or why, I just always could. Been playing like that ever since I can remember. It’s freaky.”
My memories of him playing as a kid swung back into my head, and I could see him sitting on a bench, playing a melody that he’d just heard, and making up chords and riffs that made the song even better.
“I seem to remember you playing like that even as a kid. Why aren’t you up on the stage, instead of working the bar?”
He smirked, and my breath caught in my throat. God, he had the kind of good looks that took my breath clean away.
“Truth?” he asked, as his eyes picked up the light from Colt’s front porch.
“Always.”
“Terrible stage fright. I freeze up, and my head goes completely blank. I forget every note I’m supposed to play, and I can’t move. It’s like someone zapped me into stone, and I can no longer even think, let alone play notes on a guitar. No thanks. I’m much more comfortable behind the bar, pouring drinks. I’m good at it, and I like people. Mickey hates people and loves the stage. He has to really stretch himself to learn all the songs in a band’s songbook, but once he does, the guy has a true stage presence. People seem to love him.”
“I’m surprised he never signed with a band. Do you know what’s up with that?”
I slipped out of the truck, then turned back to Scotty, grabbing my purse from the cab floor, then securing my hat on my head. Scotty didn’t seem to have one, which made me wonder if he ever wore one. I’d seen both Colt and Mickey wearing hats. Even my Uncle Daryl wore a hat, but not Scotty. Apparently, he hadn’t gotten the memo.
“Let’s just say Mickey has commitment issues. Signing with a band would force him to have consistency in his life, and Mickey does his best to avoid any kind of routine. I’m surprised he still works for Tammy and Jimmy, but then, he’s more or less on call. So, in that sense, the job isn’t consistent.”
“Good to know,” I said and slammed my door shut, thinking that Mickey was an even worse father material than I first thought. I knew he had a turbulent childhood, but when you were an adult, you had options.
Evidently, Mickey didn’t see any of the good options, only the bad ones.
Scotty grabbed his guitar out of a case that he kept behind the seats and joined me as we strolled up the walkway surrounded by a manicured lawn. One thing about Colt, he not only kept a neat and clean house, the front and backyard reflected his attention to detail. He even had flowers growing in large containers on the front stairs, giving it that feminine touch.
I liked that in a man. Showed he took pride in his personal world, but then I liked Colt and Scotty, apparently. My feelings for Mickey still seemed scattered around like confetti. I hoped that one way or another, Mickey would help me gather all those feelings, but so far, it wasn’t looking as if that would happen anytime soon.
“So, how do you like living here in Sweet Whiskey?” Scotty asked once we were settled in the large living room, sitting across from each other on two hardback chairs, our guitars perched in our laps. I’d hung my hat on a peg near the door, along with several other cowboy hats that obviously belonged to Colt.
Colt’s floors were either tile or whitewashed wood, with great, big, colorful throw rugs under steel-gray, overstuffed furniture. The rooms were extra-large with plenty of room for adding more chairs, like we were doing now.
“It’s been really great, at least up until today. I already miss my girl, so I may have to figure something else out for that. Maybe hire a babysitter to come in on the nights I’m working. Still, I know my aunt will take better care of her, but it’s hard for me to get used to her being in another house than I’m in. I guess I have to force myself to get used to it. This is better for Darci, and that’s the important factor.”
“Maybe that’s the answer, then.”
“Yeah, I’ve gotten so used to having my sweetie around me 24/7 that this separation is killing me. I hate it.”
I didn’t want to admit that the real reason I invited him in was because I didn’t want to enter an empty house… a house without my Darci. It was the very first time I would be sleeping without her either in my room or in the next one over. The whole idea of her so far away made me want to cry.
“I bet you and your aunt can work something out,” Scotty offered. “After all, your Uncle Daryl usually spends Friday and Saturday nights at Dirty Coyote. I mean he’s usually there from the time we open the doors until closing or damn near it. Doesn’t seem like it would be a problem for either of them if your aunt came here to babysit.”
“If that’s the case, she’ll probably be happy for the company. Still, I wouldn’t want my aunt driving home from here that late by herself. It’s only three nights a week. I’ll get used to it, I’m sure, but right now… on this first night… it’s tough.”
