Page 5 of Rim Shot Rebound

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

Kelsey flipped through a bin of records with a green apple sucker hanging out of her mouth. Every corner of the little store she worked in was stuffed with records—bins, wall shelves, boxes on the floor, loose vinyl hanging from the ceiling. She was looking for a particular album someone had called about: Nirvana’s Bleach. It wasn’t in their system for some reason, but Kelsey knew for sure she’d seen it recently. She’d been digging through bins whenever she got a chance all week to see if it got misfiled or missed getting logged in.

As she flipped past each album, she felt a sort of tranquility that was often missing in her life, despite living alone. The albums had a comforting scent, like old books, but with the scent of plastic in the mix. Scanning each title and each album’s cover art was a form of meditation. It was one of the reasons she loved working there so much. Seeing all of those unwanted records, those hidden gems, carefully filed and displayed filled Kelsey with hope. Most of them would find new homes, new purpose, and those that didn’t would remain loved and fawned over in the shop. It was a sort of home for misfit vinyl.

Until she started working there, Kelsey had no idea how much she could relate to a bunch of old records. But she did. She even started thinking of herself as some sort of misfit vinyl in search of a home. The home she’d been looking for ever since she was a kid bouncing between foster homes. Working at this store and rehoming these albums gave her unexpected joy and a surprising sense of purpose.

The bell on the front door jangled, and Kelsey looked up to see Natalie walking in. Nat wore a light sweater over a silky blue blouse and black trousers with her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail. Her downtown librarian uniform. A stark contrast to the tight tanks, tighter jeans, and cowboy boots she rocked on gigs.

Kelsey waved and continued to flip through the albums in front of her. “I thought you were working today.”

“I am,” Nat said. “What? I can’t visit my friend at work?”

“You can. You just don’t,” Kelsey teased. She was always the one to visit Natalie at the library a few blocks away. She usually needed a walk and a break from the dark inside of the record store more than Natalie needed to escape the bright, cheery children’s department.

“I took an early lunch. I was afraid you would chicken out and wouldn’t stop by today.”

“Chicken out from what?”

“From talking to me.”

“Now why would I avoid you?”

“Because you still haven’t told me what’s going on with you.”

And she didn’t intend to tell Nat either. Not yet. In fact, she was hoping to bail on lunch today. It wasn’t as if she had an appetite or could hold down food anyway. And the last thing she needed was Natalie reading into that.

“Nat, it’s been less than twenty-four hours.”

“And?”

“And you’re impossible. You know that?”

“Pfft. Go complain to Camille about that. Shane would probably agree with you, too.”

“How’s that going, by the way?”

“Uh-uh. Don’t change the subject. Shane and I are good. I’m here about you.”

“I’m great.” Her voice wavered.

As expected, Natalie wasn’t buying it. She frowned, then softened her expression. “Shane’s working a gig tonight. Why don’t you come over? Cadence and I have big plans for a movie and popcorn. Probably even ice cream. With sprinkles. You can hang with us, and we can talk after I put Cadence to bed. More ice cream maybe?”

Kelsey loved hanging out with Natalie and her daughter, Cadence. And as hard as it had been on all of them to lose their original fiddle player—who happened to also be Nat’s best friend—to rehab, stepping in as a substitute bestie for Nat had been a nice, unexpected bonus the last couple months.

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