Page 102 of Fire and Icing

As the truck rolls away from the property, my mind should be replaying Jenny’s trampoline theatrics. But it’s not. I’m thinking about Emberleigh. Always her.

That afternoon, the camera crew from the baking contest comes to the station to interview me and film me on the job. When they leave, the guys double down with their mocking and jokes. I missed this. I haven’t been here all that long, but I already feel a part of this crew.

I looked for jobs in Tennessee because Nashville is the home of country music. Did I think I’d shoot my shot at some point? Maybe. Emberleigh even said I should—not in so many words, but she implied it. Now I’m finally getting to a point where the guys are including me more as a peer at the station. And to make things even more complicated, my feelings for Emberleigh grow stronger all the time.

I always thought I’d have one dream and pursue it to the exclusion of anything else in life. Instead, it feels as though every one of the paths I’d want to pursue going forward conflicts with the others.

The rest of the day is dull compared to goat wrestling and an interview for a television show. After dinner, I pull out the spare guitar I keep at the station and sit out back, composing a song. Writing music when my head is swimming with thoughts always soothes me.

I’m thinking about asking Emberleigh out. I strum a tune and sing whatever words come to mind. I’m a guy who fell for a woman who’s possibly not interested and definitely guarded. What should I do?

The words flow, expressing every balled-up thought and emotion.

“You’re sunlight through a screen door,

Barefoot dancing on the kitchen floor,

Laughin’ like I’m the reason for your smile.

Hopin’ you'll let me stay awhile.

’Cause I’m just a wishful dreamer,

Truck cab two-seat believer.

And you’re everything I can see for miles and miles.”

I strum a few chords and then I keep singing.

“Red hair blowing with the window down

Driving dirt roads on the outskirts of town

Not a care in the world, feet up on the dash,

I’m wonderin’ how to make this last.

Stealin’ glances I hope you won’t see,

All the men in the world, how would you pick me?

A million maybes, but one thing’s true?—

You’re the one I wanna come home to.”

My eyes are shut, and I’m pouring it all into this song, every hope, every fear, every possibility. I keep strumming, humming the chorus under my breath. If Emberleigh ever gives me a sign—even the smallest one—I’ll share my heart with her, and I won’t hold back.

“What if you just laugh and say you’re not my girl?

I’m a line in the dirt and you’re the whole wide world.

I’d kick myself forever if I let this feeling go?—

Heart in hand, hopin’ you don’t say no.

Yeah, I’m …”

Someone clears their throat and my eyes pop open. It’s Cody, leaning against the wall, watching me intently.

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