Page 46 of The Road Sometimes Taken

“Everyone sees rain as a bad thing, me included sometimes, but rain helps things grow. Rain can cleanse. Rain can restart a cycle. What if we didn’t have rain? We wouldn’t even know we needed the sun. Bask in both, Carita. Be both.”

“Like a bracelet moment,” she whispers. I let the time pass so hopefully she can sense that I’m giving her the time she needs. I want her to share whatever she feels like sharing and I’m letting the sound be as loud as it can be right now.Talk to me, Carita. Trust in me.Then she continues, “I started collecting these because of Ollie, a student who passed away a few years ago. He was pure sunshine, Manny. He cheered everyone on and he collected his hospital bands as braceletsbecause he said each one reminded him he had another day to live.”

My throat is dry at this confession, at her sharing the reality of the bracelets. She told me they reminded her to slow down, but knowingwhyis deeper than I thought. My heart aches at the thought of what the kid went through.

“He used to walk around handing out regular bracelets to everyone when they shared a good moment. He gave me this one,” she says, showing me a thin orange bracelet she rarely takes off. “He gave it to me the day he learned how to tie his shoes. Funny how that’s such an everyday task and I didn’t think anything of it when he asked me to teach him. But to him, that was such a win. He passed away in his sleep a few months after that and to be honest, my life has never been the same. It changed my perspective on how I see things, I just need to remind myself that all moments are worth keeping, even the hard ones.”

“We learn from them all,” I agree, thinking about all the moments in this trip I’ve loved and how they’ll stay with me forever. Cara, unknowingly, is carrying on with this kid’s legacy, helping people like me slow down and appreciate it all.

She drops her gaze, and I take advantage of the moment and press a gentle kiss on her forehead. “We love the sun but we need the rain too. You carry everyone else’s highs and lows. You need someone to help you carry yours, but you have to let them see it, Carita.”

Slowly, she lifts her eyes to meet mine. The redness still lingers, but there's a softness there now. “Thanks. I guess I’m just hungry, and that’s not helping.”

I let out a soft laugh, narrowing my eyes playfully. “How about we find something to eat soon? A little food will help for sure.”

Her lips curl into a tentative smile. “That sounds good. Dinner and drinks?”

“The perfect plan.”

1 Who the hell calls her his girl?

23

WEAR THE HAT

ONE OF THEM GIRLS, LEE BRICE

Manny

“Come on!”Cara shouts over the pounding music, tugging at my hand as I sit on the wooden barstool. The dim, neon-lit bar in Nashville pulses with energy; the floor is packed with people dancing, their laughter mingling with the loud beats of country tunes. Her voice cuts through the noise, “Come dance with me, please! I love this song!”

Cara’s back to her usual self—a whirlwind bubble of energy. She’s been on the dance floor for the past hour with me in tow. She hasn’t stopped dancing for more than a few seconds to drink water and then goes back to it. Her blonde hair bounces with every movement, reflecting the strobe lights that dance around the room. If excitement was a person, it would be her, moving with a rhythm that seems to flow effortlessly from one song to the next. She knows more songs than anyone I’ve ever met and has been dancing non-stop. I’ve tried to keep up,but I’m drained and need a break. I’m not made of endless energy.

“Okay, I’ll dance with you again, but right now, I need to rest. I need to hydrate a bit, too. We’ll both be done by the end of the night if we keep this up and someone has to drive us home.” Today has been a long day and we keep adding drinks and non-stop moves, making us more tired than you’d think.

Cara pouts, her lips curving into a mischievous grin. “Where’s the fun in that? Where’s the fun Manny from the other day? The ‘won’t you pretend to be my wife’ Manny?”

Her tone is playful, and I know she’s just goofing around, calling me on my bullshit. Probably just high on music as she says she gets when she listens to too many of her favorite songs in a row. Still, there’s something about the way those words sound coming from her that I can’t quite ignore.

“He’s right here, still having fun, but he needs a minute,” I say, lowering her cowgirl hat with my index finger and adding, “Let’s sit this song out, and I’ll dance with you again on the next one, okay? But you can go dance your little heart out if you want.”

“Fine,” Cara says, adjusting her hat and pulling her hair back onto her shoulders. With a dramatic turn, she stomps away in her pink cowgirl boots, her heels clicking against the wooden floor. When she said she wanted Nashville’s country scene, I didn’t realize she meant it so literally. She stepped out of the B&B room tonight in sparkly pink country boots, the tiniest white dress I’ve ever seen, the hem touching right where her ass ends and her legs begin. If she bends forward you can see the edge of her ass cheeks and paired with the lacy bottom and the cleavage on top, the dress leaves little to the imagination. Her pink cowgirl hat and bouncy curls make her look like a real-life cowgirl Barbie. My gaze lingers on her, unable to ignore how incredibly hot she looks. Her energetic movementskeep drawing not only my attention but everyone else’s too and I’m still shocked she doesn’t see that.

I still can’t believe she doesn’t see that she commands every space she walks into, and she lights up the room with her smile.Her smile.By far my favorite part of her, and tonight, she has the biggest smile I’ve seen on her in days. It’s as if her soul is shining through her smile and we can all see that she’s irradiating happiness.

I’m not sure if it’s the music, the food, the drinks, or the lively crowd around her that’s making her smile more tonight. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s in a place she’s been wanting to visit for long. Or maybe it’s that she needed to cry and let it all out and now she feels better. Maybe it’s a combination of it all. But a little voice inside of me tells me maybe she’s hiding behind that pretty smile and that she’s just plastering joy for everyone to see while she dies a little inside. Whatever it is, I’m going to figure it out. If it’s the first, then I’m damn happy she’s finding joy in this trip but if it’s the latter, I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that smile becomes a genuine one. I will make sure every damn moment for the rest of this trip is worth a new bracelet for her.

“Ready for another one?” the bartender asks, pulling me from my thoughts. I didn’t even notice her come near me, too captivated by Cara’s movements and laughter.

“I’ll take another one and two waters,” I say. Cara will definitely need some after she’s done dancing. My eyes roam back to her and it’s like I can hear her laugh even above all the noise.

“You’re lucky. Not only is she fucking hot, respectfully, she’s the life of the party here. I wouldn’t leave her dancing alone for long or someone will try to sweep her off her feet,” the bartender comments as she disappears behind the bar before I can respond.

She’s not mine, I want to tell her, but I can’t quite convincemyself to say the words. It’s been so hard listening to everyone who thinks we’re together, that we’ve been together for a long time. They tell us how good we look together. I would like nothing more than for that to be reality, but it wouldn’t be fair to her. There’s nothing I can bring to the table that she doesn’t already have.

Yes, I have money but she doesn’t care about that, never has. Her family and mine have been friends for a long time. Her parents might not have the money my family does but they have always worked hard to earn what they have. She’s not like all of those girls who chase me down so they can climb the social ladder or to get the latest designer bag. I have my business, but Cara was born to be a teacher and she loves it. I don’t think she’ll ever want to stop teaching. I could say I could give her a sister, but she already has one, and my own sister is like a sister to her, too. I could show her a good time but that’s not even true. Cara’s the life of the party all on her own. She also deserves time. She deserves to be someone’s priority and if I give up time at work, which I clearly would for her, would she even consider me?

I watch as some guy walks over to her, grabs her hand, and twirls her around, spinning her in his arms. As they dance to the beat of the honky-tonk music, her smile is bright so I know she’s not uncomfortable, or at least not from what I can see. I grab my drink and take the last sip while I keep watching. They move in perfect sync, following a two-step rhythm she picks up on almost instinctively. Almost as if she knew the dance before he pulled her to him. They dance so closely, and I can’t help but notice how her head tilts toward him, as if on the verge of a kiss.

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