Page 46 of Sounds Like Love

Dad had wheeled a mop and bucket out into the middle of the floor, sashaying to the sound of Pat Benatar on the old jukebox. The music would skip occasionally, or get caught on a scratched groove, but he’d just go over to it and kick it once or twice, and the jukebox would right itself again.

I leaned against the counter, cleaning a glass. Mitch licked his thumb and started counting out the tens. “So …” he began, “is that guyreallySebastian Fell?”

“Yeah. He’s here on vacation,” I lied, glancing up at the darkened balcony. I hadn’t seen him come down since the show ended, though just as I began to wonder if he’d left without me knowing, I heard his thoughts float through my head.

“I wonder if there’s a side exit. How many people would recognize me this late at night? It’s not LA, so maybe I shouldn’t worry …”

Did he think about his escape routes often? That was … a little sad, actually.

You can go out the side door, I suggested.I’ll make sure the coast is clear if you want.

“You—you would?”

I set my mouth in annoyance.Why do you sound so surprised?

Meanwhile, Mitch was going on about the man in question. “Youwereup there for a bit. Do you know him?” Then he perked. “Do I need to pick out a tux for the wedding?”

I threw the rag at him. It smacked him on the side of the head and flopped to the ground. “Maybe that’s what I should be askingyou,” I said, grabbing a new cleaning rag from under the bar.

“What about?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the bills in his hands.

“Mom told me. That you asked about the ring,” I said, abandoning my chore as I slunk over to him and jostled his shoulder. “So, when are you going to pop the question?”

He realized he’d miscounted, cursed under his breath, and started over again. Aw, hewasembarrassed. That was sweet.

Naturally I egged him on. “I mean, now’s as good a time as any. Imagine it: you can pop the question, then take over the Revelry instead of having it close—save it, you know?—and get married right here … maybe even before the end of the year!” I liked the sound of this more and more. Yes—this felt sonatural.Mitch proposes to Gigi. They take over the Revelry. Mom and Dad retire. It was perfect in my head. “And Mom could evenbehere for it—”

“I’m not taking over the Revelry, Joni,” he said seriously.

That perfect future already started to crack. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

My eyebrows knit together in confusion “You … don’t?”

He shook his head. “No. I really don’t.”

My chest felt tight. I shook my head—I didn’t understand. “So instead we’re just closing a place that’s been in our family forseventy years?”

And my brother replied without so much as a moment of hesitation, “Yes.”

“How?”

“Because when Mom and Dad told us a few days ago, all I felt was relief. And I wouldn’t feel that way if I wanted to stay.”

“And Gigi? What does she want to do?”

“I wish I knew,” he replied cryptically. “I’m going to go count these in the box office,where no one can bother me.” He piled the money into the lockbox again and tucked it under his arm like a football. “Good night, Jo,” he said, and left for the box office.

I watched him go.

He’d feltrelief? All I’d felt in that moment was panic. Panic over losing something that kept me tethered to the ground like the string of a kite. Panic over something else changing in a world that was already changing too fast. It would have been easier if the Rev had been in the red, if it’d been too expensive to maintain, too many loans, too many leaks in the roof.

But the truth hurt worse—that the Revelry was fine.

Wewere the problem.

Maybe I could convince Mitch to change his mind. Maybe I could work out an agreement and come back for six months out of the year and split the responsibilities. Maybe I could—

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