Page 39 of Loving Ladybug: Part One
I led her to the wooden bar, which was busy, but not completely crowded. Country music played on a jukebox. People sat at tables talking and drinking. There was a small stage and dance floor, with some instruments being set up.
“I’ve never been to a bar like this. Mostly, we go to sports bars, like Tito’s or Marabou Mike’s. Unless it’s a birthday and we go someplace fancy like a rooftop bar or a club, someone has a hookup to, or the Arctic Toilet, or something.”
She looked cute in a yellow sundress and some canvas slip-ons. Her hair was up in a messy bun, with a few pink strands coming down in wisps, revealing the shaved parts that had grown out, but not enough to put up.
“What do you want to drink?” I wondered what she liked.
She shrugged. “Beer’s fine.”
Did she order beer because she liked it, or because it was cheaper? I was fine with beer myself. I didn’t have a huge tolerance for alcohol, anyway. We ordered two from the bartender.
“There’s music?” She eyed the musicians as they took the stage and warmed up.
“I didn’t bring you here for the beer.” The band was decent, covering well-known country songs.
“You like country music?” She nodded. “You know, before the breakup, I wouldn’t say I liked country, but after listening tomad girl revenge music,which is mostly country songs about property damage, I can see the appeal. Both to the music and dumping your ex’s truck in the lake.”
“That happened to Cooter once.” I laughed. Actually, that song wasaboutCooter. I regretted ever introducing them. But we were young dumbasses.
We found a high-top. There were enough boots and Cowboy hats to make me think of wearing mine next time. How would she look in a Cowboy hat and boots?
“Are we here for the band or the vibes?” She took a sip of beer.
“I wanted to see if you liked country music. I enjoy it and bars like this. If you do too, well, that’s one more thing we can do together.” I liked spending time with her; it made life here less lonely.
She nodded. “Okay, but you could have just asked. Not that I’m complaining.”
“Asking and experiencing are two different things.” Something I knew firsthand. I wasn’t happy when my sister said I’d have to come with her to a lot of her band stuff–until I heard the music.
“It’s fun.” Gwen smiled and took another drink of beer.
The band opened with a song I loved and couples started dancing. Standing, I held out a hand. “Dance with me.”
“I don’t know how to dance to music like this.” She ducked her head, self-conscious.
“It’s a two-step, not a line dance. Though we can do that, too, if you want.” Part of me relaxed as she took my hand.
“Line dancing. Like hats and boots and everything?” She let me lead her onto the floor.
“Absolutely. Do you know how cute boots and hats can look with sundresses?” I positioned her hands, our bodies not quite touching.
At some point, we should go to a fair and hear my sister play. Gwen could wear some boots and a hat, we could ride some rides, pet some cows, and eat some foodnoton a PHL-approved nutrition list.
Gwen thought for a moment. “I could make that look cute.”
Yes, she could. Did I get her pink boots to go with her hair?
I taught her the moves and after a couple of songs, she was laughing and twirling with the best of them.
A song came on, and she closed her eyes, spinning and smiling. She gave a laugh, and opening her eyes, took my hand. Her laughter made everything better.
We got some water when the music shifted.
“What do you think?” I asked. She seemed to be having fun. I was enjoying myself immensely.
Gwen nodded. “I could be persuaded to do this again.”
A song from my sister’s band came on, and people started line dancing.
