Page 48 of The Other Side of Wild
“I know. I worry about you, too. A mother's brain never turns off. And you became my daughter the moment you stood up to his snake of an ex.” I should be basking in warmth at that comment, but all it does is make me question myself even more.
We say our goodbyes with a promise that I’ll meet her for lunch sometime next week. When I get back to the balcony, there’s a man pile on my floor while Abby’s standing in the corner, coffee in hand and an evil smirk on her face.
“Why is it that every time there’s men around and I walk away, I come back with them wrestling on the floor?” Her face lights up, and then she laughs, a genuine, belly-shaking laugh; all the tension that’s been growing since I got here melts away.
I walk up to her and wrap my arms around hershoulders, “I don’t know how you got here or how long you plan to stay, but I was planning on coming back on Friday.”
She puts her coffee down and gives me the tightest hug I think I’ve ever been given. “Don’t scare me like that, you jerk. I can’t lose my sister. I figured you were going to stay here forever.”
“What happens when one of us gets married?” We look at each other before breaking out in a fit of giggles.
“We better find some brothers, or maybe we can just be old ladies with lots of dogs. Who needs a man when you have dogs?”
“PREACH IT SISTER!” Monroe shouts from the pile of limbs on the floor.
“Wait, who has Harley?”
A bashful look crosses her face, and I instantly know the answer. Oh gosh, guess I’m going to have to talk to him sooner than later.
“Okay, but really. Why are you guys wrestling?"
“We’re reenacting a fight that happened on the ice last night.” Someone calls out from the floor. Raising my coffee to my lips, I take a sip to hide my smile. A few minutes later, they untangle themselves and sit down on the ground, and if I didn’t know them so well, I’d be intimidated as heck. Their RBF gives mine a run for its money.
“Okay, so what’s this we hear about you disappearing?” Andrews levels me with a stare so intense that I have to look away.
“I may have jumped the gun a bit on that one, guys, sorry.” Abby tucks a strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear and looks at the floor.
“I’m not disappearing; I just needed tofigure myself out. Something called me back here; I missed the solitude. It’s peaceful out here, you know?” It’s then that I’m struck with the most brilliant idea I’ve ever had.
“Let me take you to a honky tonk tonight!” They look at me like I have seven heads.
“What’s a honky tonk?”
I feel my face split as my smile grows; oh yes. This is going to be fun.
Chapter 27 – Hannah
“What the heck have you gotten us into?” Monroe asks, a look of horror on his face as he takes in a run-down country bar on the outskirts of town. The barstools are made of saddles, the floor is polished light hardwood, and the light fixtures look straight out of an old-timey Wild West movie. But my favorite part is the neon lights of the beer signs behind the bar. It’s like the bat signal for us country folk, and darn it if it doesn’t heal a little part of me.
“Who’s going to dance with me first?!” I ask, my eyes darting down the line of hockey players to Abby, whose face I’m assuming is a mirror of mine.
“Ugh, fine.” Monroe sighs overdramatically, his hand coming out to grab onto mine. “I don’t know what I’m doing, so you’re going to have to teach it to me.”
Boy, are they in for a treat. I go through the basic steps of a line dance, teaching him the steps to Cotton Eyed Joe because, well, they teach you that in elementary school PE here.
The eight-count dance is easy to pick up, but on these floors, if you make one wrong move, you’ll be flat on your back. Once Monroe masters that, we move on to a two-step. There aren’t many people here, so Abby and I trade off between the guys teaching them different dances as the songs change.
“Okay, what’s the point of this?” Wilson gruffly asks.
“Gives us rhythm-deprived people an option to dance because we sure can’t move and groove to anything else.” His laugh echoes off the walls; it's so loud and powerful. Way out here, no one gives two chicken shits who you are or what you do for a living. These guys could be the president and his minions, and no one would bother them.
“Is it nice going out and not being noticed? Or at least not be bombarded?” He nods. Wilson ever the reserved guy. It’s been fun to watch him come out of his shell around me a bit.
“Yeah, we couldn’t do this back in Tampa. It’s nice being able to let go for the night. No one here has their phones out. They’re actually talking to each other, enjoying the company they’re with. It’s kind of weird.” Life is simple out here. Always has been, minus the dad situation.
You work hard, drink where your parents can’t find you, and drive trucks down dirt roads at the age of nine. Social media and the fast pace of life aren’t par for the course here. It’s a nice palate cleanser, and I’m questioning why I haven’t come back before now.
By the time the bar fills up, the guys are more comfortable as they try to keep up with the steps. We’ve done more than one round of the do-si-do, and when Copperhead Road comes on, Abby grabs my hand and pulls me to an open corner of the dance floor. The bagpipes at the beginning of the song are like a siren calling fishermen out to sea. Or the Cha Cha Slide for the rest of the country.