Page 7 of Playing it Country

“You do just fine behind the bar,” she says pointedly and I shake my head.

“It’s different. This is a job. I don’t actively seek out that sort of thing in my off time.”

“You could do worse than making a few friends while you’re here.”

“But, like,”—I roll my eyes for emphasis—“how much smiling is involved? I have a quota.”

Grabbing the bar cloth, Aunt Holly throws it at me and we both laugh. I’m being dramatic—mostly. Being on the road for so long hasn’t allowed me to make a lot of lasting friendships. I like exploring by myself and relying on what I have to get me by.

It never felt lonely before now, but I shake off the feeling because I know myself, and it’s only a matter of time before I’m craving the next adventure. As if on cue, my phone vibrates in my pocket.

MOM: Hi honey, how are you? Have you heard about the job yet?

Thejobin question is a traveling photographer position with a prestigious company—and also the bane of my existence. There hasn’t been a conversation she let go by without bringing it up one way or another. In reality, the opportunity is incredible but I need this time to rest and recharge.

I love my mother but she’ll never understand, and for now, I’m happy for the reprieve.

HANNAH: I’m fine and not yet

MOM: Well make sure they see you’re still updating your portfolio so they don’t think you’re staying in that town

HANNAH: Clementine Creek is nice Mom you might like it if you gave it a chance

MOM: We’re not meant for places like that Hannah—too small for our spirit

HANNAH: I’ll let you know when I hear back

MOM: Okay honey thanks

Sighing,I throw my phone in my bag behind the bar. She means well—mostly—but it felt like being doused with a bucket of cold water after talking to my aunt.

My mother is a lot in general, but the suffocating guilt ofso when are you leaving that dead end little townis already grating on my nerves.As far as I know, my parents have never even been here, but it doesn’t stop her from automatically assuming I don’t belong or that I’m somehow better than Clementine Creek.

She’s wrong, but arguing with her is pointless—and exhausting.

The rest of my shift goes by without incident, and before I know it, Aunt Holly is shooing me out the door into the fading Tennessee sun.

My phone rings in my pocket before I’m barely to my car, and even though it’s Rhea, I’m reluctant to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?”

“I just got out of work.”

“Do you need to change or can I just come get you?” I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it, my brows furrowed.

“Umm, I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Right, which is fine because you noticed how I wasn’t all, like,Hannah, what are you doing? Would you possibly like to hang out?”

“Yeah,” I say with a chuckle. “I picked up on that subtlety.”

“It’s what I’m known for.” I can practically hear her smile through the phone. “But really, can I pick you up now or do you need to change?”

“Where are you even taking me?”

“There’s a show tonight at the Brew, Q, ’n Boogie in Blackstone Falls, and it’s time for you to stop hiding.”

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