Page 165 of Verses

But their sentiments didn’t quite reach my heart, making me wonder what would. I sang that night…sang the words of other people, shared the emotions of other writers, told the stories of other lyricists.

It didn’t mean a goddamned thing.

So what would?

At the end of the evening, Sal said, “What’ll it be, doll? It’s on the house.”

“Just water.”

“You sure? Anything here is yours. Just ask.”

I smiled. Sal was a strange guy, but he’d always been nice to me. “Really—just water.”

“Lemon wedge?”

“Sure.”

When he slid the glass of ice water to me on a cocktail napkin, he asked, “Where you been? We missed you around here.”

“I’ve been doing a lot with my band. We’re gearing up to play live shows again.”

“If you want to play here during the summer, I could put some tables out on the sidewalk. You’d draw a crowd with that voice like you always do.”

I sipped the water, wishing there wasn’t ice in it, because I couldn’t really guzzle it. “The songs I sing for my band are different.”

“I know. You told me they were like that one song you sang—that ‘Three Little Pigs’ song.”

Unable to suppress my laughter, I said, “Oh—‘Big Bad Wolf’.”

“Yeah, that’s it. As long as my customers hear your voice, they don’t care if you’re screaming a little or cursing.”

“Thanks.” Although it was nice to know we’d have another venue where we could play our music, Charlotte was tiny. And even though tourist season would be gearing up soon, Silver City would offer bigger crowds and, later, potentially more money. Still, Sal had been good to me and I could at least give him lip service. “I’ll let the band know.”

“I’m glad you’re back. Can I expect to see you again soon?”

“Yeah, of course.”

I talked a good game…but I really had no fucking idea. Still, it had felt good to sing on my own again, something I’d need to remember.

I’d spentSunday doing nothing but soul searching. I wrote in my journal a lot—not just lyrics but several stream-of-consciousness pages of vomiting from my brain. I didn’t stop until I felt drained—and then I’d take a walk and come home and do it again.

By the end of the day, I felt better. I couldn’t say I felt like my old self, though. Instead, I felt almost like the phoenix rising from the ashes. I was something new. Stronger. Smarter.

Resilient.

Now I knew I would be all right. Being alone wasn’t just okay; I preferred it. I didn’t need a man in my life to be happy.

And I knew if I kept forcing the smile, it would eventually become second nature. It would feel real.

Monday morning, I loved my walk to Early Rise. Even though I was still heading to work in the dark, the air was warmer and even lighter somehow and the birds sang the entire time. I only saw two cars on my way to work, as usual—but it would pick up in the next half hour or so.

After unlocking the door to the coffee shop, I flipped on a few light switches and then started turning everything on, taking chairs off tables where they’d been since yesterday’s mopping, and getting the place ready for customers. And, once they started coming in, my smile came easily.

Emotionally, I had made the decision to persevere, because rewards would come from my career, not from a relationship. Unlike my dear mother, I needed to find a way to be happy with myself.Justmyself. Given time, I’d figure out how to do that.

And, of course, after having settled on that conclusion,thatwas when Wolf showed up, as if to keep me off balance.

It was around ten o’clock, well after most of our regulars had come in for their usual latte. Because it wasn’t quite tourist season yet, there wasn’t a constant trickle of newcomers stopping in, so Wolf came during a lull. I was busy putting together wraps for the people who’d stop in for lunch later. Usually, it was just kids from the high school, but they all dug Ben’s chicken wrap recipe.

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