Unfinished Business

11

The biggest night of the week for The Starlighter is Fridays. Not the weekends, which you'd think would be the busiest, but Fridays simply for the fact we hold an open mic night. People here live for live music, and they jump at the opportunity to watch someone break out their guitar. Regardless of how much pain open mic brings me, I like Fridays because it's my biggest tip night.

The patio is packed, not an open seat out here, and we currently have a woman named Margie singing some Amy Winehouse. She's really good, and the crowd seems to like her. That means I go around and ask everyone if they want another round of drinks because more often than not, they'll say yes.

Wyatt is here tonight, but he's not working. He's with Dylan and Timmy at a table in the back. Thankfully, they're in Tilly's section, not mine. I've been staying as far away from them as possible.

Wyatt and I never discussed our fight last week. He went back to his stone cold ways ignoring me every chance he could, and I let him. I'm done trying to get in his good graces. He's engaged and happy, and I only have a few more months of helping out Loretta before I get to plan my next move. I don't know what that is yet, but I'm hoping to figure it out soon.

"Damn girl!" Loretta shouts at me from behind the bar. "Who'd you dress all nice for tonight?"

I don't take big tip nights lightly. If I want more money, I have to look nice. It's just a fact. I'm wearing a pair of black ripped skinny jeans and a black tube top with gold sparkly sandals. My hair is slicked back into a high ponytail and large gold hoops are dangling from my ears. For the first time since I've been here, I finally feel like myself. My makeup is done, my outfit is nice, and for once, the weather is beautiful. It's in the low eighties, and there's a slight breeze with no rain in sight. It's the perfect night for open mic.

And for cash tips.

"Can't a girl look nice without there having to be a reason?" I ask.

She barks out a laugh. "I'm not naive, Macey. And yes, he's been lookin all damn night. Can't take his eyes off ya."

Wyatt is not the reason I dressed up tonight. Well, not the whole reason. I glance toward their table, and yes, he's staring directly at me. I can't fully see his outfit since he's far away, but there's a cowboy hat on his head, which always used to be my weakness. I convinced him to let me wear it on multiple occasions. In fact, I think it's the same one.

"That's not why I did it," I tell her, but I'm quickly cut off when the familiar chords of the one song I despise with every ounce of my being starts being played. It's a new person that's come on the stage. He's older, mid-sixties, and he's got a long gray beard with a huge belt buckle and cowboy boots. He's playing Tennessee Whiskey by Chris Stapleton, and I drop my pen and pad to the floor from being caught so off guard.

It's a popular country song, so it's not a huge surprise that someone wanted to play it, but the fact that Wyatt and I are in the same room to hear it isn't okay. We haven't been in the same room to hear this since that night he played it. The first night we laid eyes on each other.

"Macey..." Loretta knows how much this song means to us. She was there. "Sit down for a second, alright?"

I shake my head, blinking away tears as the man starts to perform the song. My body is trembling, and Wyatt won't break eye contact with me, and everything just gets to be too much. I can't be around him anymore knowing that he will never be mine. I have to let him go despite Loretta telling me to keep going. Otherwise, I'm going to break myself in the process.

"Loretta, I have to go," I say with a trembling lip. Turning to face her, I bend down to pick the pen and pad off the patio floor and set it on top of the bar. "I can't do this anymore. I thought I could...but I can't. It's too painful. I wanted to help, and I wanted to be here for you, but I love him, Loretta, and I can't stay here and watch him marry someone else. It'll kill me."