Page 8 of High Note

When she looked up, squinting, Skyla’s cheeks went pink.

“Sorry. That’s a nice vibe.”

“Yeah. I’m just—you know. It’s a thing.” She wasn’t a songwriter. No one at Cherry’s wanted to hear original shit. Still, it was fun.

“It is. You can tell me to butt out, but if you modulate this bit here…” Skyla hummed.

She nodded and sketched out some notes. “I was thinking something like that with a bridge.”

“Oh, I get it. Nice. I like that a lot. You drop a nice bass groove into it…”

“And it’s like rocking yourself to sleep in a big recliner, huh?”

“Kinda, but not boring at all.”

Suddenly she realized that she was sitting with a Grammy award-winning country singer. This wasn’t a friend of hers. This was a star. “It’s just for fun, you know?”

“Don’t do that.” When she glanced up to meet Skyla’s gaze, she found it disconcertingly direct. “Don’t put it down. Do you love to make music?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you’re a musician. Period.”

“Yeah. I mean, I teach music. I play music. I love it.” And she was making most of her living off of it, right?

“Well, there you go!” Skyla’s eyes lit up, her smile right back in place. “I just don’t think people need to hide their light.”

Like it was that easy. She loved her little place, her cats, her students, but there was a part of her that wanted more. She just couldn’t have it. She was a Summit Springs girl, and opportunities to shine like a lightning bug weren’t thick on the ground.

Kirsten folded up her napkin, tucking it away. “Did I offend you, honey? I didn’t mean to.”

“Not at all. I’m not used to having someone writing with me.” And she was embarrassed, like she’d been caught masturbating or something. “I have to get home. I have kittens to check on. I have six of them, at least today.”

Tomorrow she’d have four.

“Six! Aw. How old are they?” Skyla reached out to touch her wrist, keeping her where she was. Freezing her, in fact.

“Nine weeks old. I’m keeping one, and the M&M ladies are taking two. That leaves three to re-home.”

Skyla lowered her voice. “I hear it’s lesbian central around here. How hard can it be to find them homes?”

Wait. Was Skyla Bridey teasing her about lesbian stereotypes?

“If everyone in town has one…” Was she supposed to be amused? Offended? Did she even know? “Lars and Charlotte have dogs.”

“Oh. I do too.” Skyla chuckled. “She’s on the bus right now, but I have a terrier mix.”

She pictured a purse dog in a sweater. “What’s it mixed with?”

“Black lab.”

“Oh, wow. Lots of energy. I have four cats and then the kittens. I adore them.” Was she waxing romantic about her cats?

“It sounds like it. So was one of them pregnant when you got her?”

Kirsten nodded. “A rescue. As soon as the kittens go somewhere else and she goes dry I’ll get her fixed.”

“That’s smart. My girl was the same way. She was a puppy mill girl. They kept lying to folks and saying she was all pittie, but all you have to do is look at her ears.”

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