Page 2 of Whiskey Lullaby
“Momma…I am not calling him to tell him goodbye. It’s been over a year, that ship sailed longago.”
“I’m not saying you have to actually tell him goodbye, you just have to trick your mind that you have. Write a letter, tell him why you’re hurt, get it all out, pretend you sent it. It’s cathartic and might give you some sense ofclosure.”
I nodded just as the song ended, and I took a breath. “I’m going to go do the laundry…” I pushed up from the bed and made my way into the hallway and down the steps, wondering how in the world you can ever learn to unlove someone who was once the reason yousmiled.
2
Noah
Fall 2016
One. Two. Three.Four.
I counted my steps, watching the shoelace of my Chuck Taylor flop as I maneuvered through the crowded terminal. I was pretty sure the Atlanta airport is the inner circle of hell… too many people. Too many smells and crying children. My shoulder bumped into someone and I mumbled sorry beneath my breath, but I refused to look up. As much of an ungrateful ass as it may make me sound: I didn’t want to take another selfie or sign another autograph. Honestly, I was only touring to keep myself occupied. To keep myself from missingher…
A boom of thunder rattled the building, the large windows overlooking the tarmac shook, and the people hurrying to their flights stopped in the middle of the terminal to exchange nervous glances. I looked through the window just as a bolt of lightning streaked through the sky. “Great,” I groaned and continued to weave through the swarmingconcourse.
On about step twenty-seven, I tripped on my lace, catching myself before my chin slammed against the tile.Damn, I should have tied it!My ball cap tumbled to the floor and I quickly grabbed it and shoved it back on myhead.
“Oh… my... God!” That squeal echoed into the tall ceilings. “NoahGreyson!” And I knew from the high octave shriek that followed my name, it was too late torun.
People in front of me were shoved out of the way. They stumbled several steps before shouting at the girl making a beeline for me. With flushed cheeks, she stopped right in front of me and gasped. “Oh my God! It isyou!” Her sweaty hands grabbed onto my arm. I wanted to pull away from her, but I couldn’t. “Can I get a picture? I just love your music. It’s so beautiful and raw and just…” The stranger threw her arms around me like I was a long-lost friend and continued to ramble about my songs, my life, how much she loved me. Before I could respond, her camera was in my face. I smiled at the flash, and then she hugged me.Again. And then… she was off with her phone in hand and her fingers going crazy over thescreen.
Sighing, I scrubbed a hand over my face before tugging on the bill of my cap to cover my eyes. Again, I knew I should have been grateful, not annoyed, but after months of touring and a fifteen-hour flight, I was just fuckingtired.
Fame wasn’t what I thought it would be. Hell, life wasn’t what I thought it wouldbe.
When I reached gate A-13, I checked the board and groaned.Delayed.Another roll of thunder rumbled through the building, kind of like a fuck you from Mother Nature, I guess. I went to take a seat but caught the flicker of the neon TGI Friday sign at the end of the corridor. I needed a little something to take the tension away. Who cared if it was only three in the afternoon, I thought. The tabloids all said I was a drunk anyway. I would have hated to let them down, so I headed straight inside to thebar.
The bartender busied himself by wiping the counter. He didn’t bother to look up when I dropped my carryon to the floor and pulled out a stool, and while some might have found that rude, I was just fine withit.
“What can I get you?” The monotone hum of his voice reminded me of that teacher off theWonderYears.
“Whiskey.Neat.”
Without a word, he turned away, and I pulled my phone from my pocket, opened Facebook, and scrolled. There I sat, taking a glimpse into the lives of people I didn’t even fucking know… social media was such a weirdthing.
“There,” the bartender said before I heard the clink of glass over the bartop.
“Thanks.” I kept scrolling while I downed the warm liquor, slamming the empty glass onto the counter when I finished.Cat meme. Political post. Some guy I used to be friends with…and then Facebook did a real number on me:Noah, share this memory from a year ago. A picture of me and Hannah lying on my bed. I posted that picture after I’d left town, hoping she’d see it. Hoping someone would tell her I hadn’t forgotten her, but I guess they didn’t. In the picture, I could see everything I tried to deny since I left Rockford— the kind of love I had for her was the kind you never fall outof.
Hannah Blake.I stared at her name in the tag bar. It was black when all the others were blue, because she blocked me almost a year ago. She cut me out of her lifecompletely.
“Can I get another,” I asked, my eyes still glued to that picture, my chest tight with hurt and anger and all those awful emotions that knowing I lost her carried. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, and that was enough. It was like a tiny bomb went off in my head. Tattered reels of film shot flashbacks through my mind: her smile. Her lips. The dark. The promises… it was enough to give me that little jab in the chest that reminded me I was not a goodperson.
The bartender placed my second drink in front of me. I grabbed it and gulped it down.Has it really been over a year since she forced us from lovers tostrangers?
I had a third drink—drown your sorrows, right? – then I headed to the crowded terminal to wait for my flight, ignoring the stares, the whispers, the flashes from cameras. I stared at that damn picture still pulled up on my phone. I thought about her at least once a day. Maybe that was pathetic, but some things you just can’t help. And I couldn’t forget her, even if her memory only reminded me of the person I once believed Iwas.
The person she taught me Iwasn’t.
I reallywasn’t…
_____
After a two-hour flight filled with turbulence and a screaming kid, I stepped into myhouse.
There were no greetings. No warm smiles, because no one was there. When I was on tour, I was surrounded by people and noise. But not there. There I wasnobody.
