Fresh Ice (6 page)

“You excited to be moving back?”

Izzy nodded, but put her finger to her lips to quiet Jenna. “They don’t know. You haven’t told Mikayla, have you?”

Jenna grinned. “Oh I’ve told Mike. She’s all for it. And no, she didn’t say a word to Aunt Adele. She wanted to be there, though, when you told them.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Yeah, apparently Aunt Adele’s all hot to have you living in Mike’s room now that our house is gone. She is convinced you’re all packed up to move to their house. Mike says it’s going to be epic.”

“I’m sure Mikayla didn’t just say ‘epic,’ but she’s right. Adele really wants me to live with them.”
Likes the idea of having me to boss around full time, is probably more like it.

“Oh geez, Mom, what about the ticket?”

Izzy picked up her purse. “Do we have time before dinner? This store isn’t far from here.”

Jenna checked her watch. “We can make time.” She leaned out of the doorway. “Mike!”

“What?”

“You wanna run downtown before dinner?”

“Hell yeah! I gotta pick up some smokes!”

“You are not picking up cigarettes, Mikayla Grady!” Adele stepped out of her room and glared at the girls.

“Oh take a pill, Mother. I don’t smoke. I get my kicks getting a rise out of you.” Mikayla stepped out of her room and closed the door. “So where are we going?”

“You’re not going anywhere. We’re having dinner at that place across the street.” Adele nodded to the small row of shops and eateries. “Just as soon as your father is out of the shower.”

Mikayla rolled her eyes. “You know how he is about showers when he doesn’t have to pay the water bill. He could be hours.” She led the way down the stairs to the sidewalk.

“Be back by six.” Adele called after the retreating forms of the girls.

“This won’t take long,” Izzy said calmly as she locked her hotel room door and caught up with the girls. Her heart beat a little faster, as if she was escaping something.

***

It’s a rare Saturday night that Serena doesn’t have me in her clutches.
Quinn smiled at his glass of ginger ale as it glimmered in the dim lights of Chance’s bar.
And now that Mr. Sad Singer and his band of sadder misfits is off the stage maybe I can have a good time.

With practiced eye, Quinn scanned the women on the dance floor below him. On any given night, not that long ago, he’d call it ‘fishing’ and he’d find a woman, or two, and have one of the waitresses bring them to him.
It was all so easy back then.

He caught the eye of one beautiful brunette who smiled and waved flirtatious fingers at him.
It’s still too easy.

“You know she’s a felony, don’t you?”

Quinn broke eye contact with the girl, swung around in his seat, and glared at Chance. “I thought you said everyone in here was legal.”

“I thought you said you were done with your fishing expeditions.”

“I am.” Quinn drained his glass and pushed it toward Chance.

“Pity. I can’t lie: your parties made me money back in the day.”

“I know, my bar tab sent your kids to college.”

Chance refilled Quinn’s glass and pushed it toward him. “Not just your bar tab. Every guy in the place turned into a big shot, trying to be you. It was good for business.”

Quinn stared at his glass, wishing, not for the first time that evening, that ginger ale had the same memory erasing powers of whiskey.

“Still, the new view you have on life, it’s much healthier for you, I suppose.”

Quinn shook his head. “Careful, Chance. You’re sounding a little nostalgic.” Quinn drained the glass again. “But I made you a promise and I’m a man of my word. I’ll do a little monkey dance on stage and introduce the headliner.”

“You mean it?”

Quinn shrugged. “Just keep the ginger ale coming and don’t hand me a bill at the end of the night.”

“You’re on,” Chance grinned. “At the rate you’re going, you’ll probably drink me out of about five bucks tonight, so it’s more than a fair trade off.”

Chance poured Quinn another glass and set it in front of him. Quinn watched the bubbles of the carbonated beverage float around in the amber liquid.
And it’ll be the high point of my week. How sad is that?

***

“Here we are.” Jenna pointed to a dubious looking gas station some six blocks from the hotel.

“This is the right address. I guess this is it.” Izzy didn’t move. Both girls walked into the mini mart, then walked back out.

“Mom, are you coming?”

“Aunt Iz, if this is too much for you, we can just do it. We’re over eighteen, so whatever, right?”

Izzy sighed. “This is my quest.” She squared her shoulders and walked in. An icy wall of air conditioning slapped them.

“Wow, what the effin ef is that smell?” Mikayla wrinkled her nose.

Izzy looked around the vast, crowded, disorganized convenience store. “Wait, there’s the counter.” She pointed toward the back of the store.

Careful not to touch anything, or let anything touch them, the three women moved toward the counter. The closer they got, the more clear two things became: First, the counter area was no more organized or clean than the rest of the store, but, situated closer to the rest rooms, it did smell far worse. Second, the man behind the counter may have been the owner, or he may have been a homeless person taking a nap.

“Uh, excuse me?” Izzy could barely get the words out, for fear of breathing in the fumes emitting from the rest rooms. “Excuse me?”

“Hey, buddy!” Mikayla shouted, jolting the man behind the counter awake.

“What, what do you want?”

“Look, we’re so sorry to disturb…whatever it is you’re doing here,” Izzy looked around behind the counter and frowned. “We have a lottery ticket that was bought here and we’d like to see if it’s a winner.”

“Scanner’s right there.” The man nodded vaguely at some point on the counter to his left. “See for yourself.”

“Yes, I can see you have quite a lot of work to do.” Jenna took a step to her right and gingerly moved a display rack of cherry flavored cigars and silk roses to reveal a lottery ticket scanner. “Okay, Mom, go ahead.”

Izzy held the ticket under the scanner and waited until a beep sounded. She looked at the display screen. “Jenna, what does that say?”

Jenna studied the blue numbers. “Uh, well, I think you have a winning ticket.” She leaned closer. “Mom, I think you won some money!”

Izzy’s hands trembled as she held the ticket under the scanner once more. “It says I’ve won…I’ve won five thousand dollars!”

The three women squealed and hugged each other. Counter guy leaned forward as a greasy smirk crossed his dirty face. “Now we’re talkin’.”

They froze in their tracks and stared at him. “You’re a pig.” Izzy murmured.

“That might be, but I’m the pig who gets to verify your ticket. I’m the pig who tells you how to go about collecting your winnings.”

Mikayla held up the ticket. “Well, it says here, Mr. Pig, where we’re supposed to go if this ticket is worth more than $600.” She cast a smile at the man. “So I guess that means we don’t need your skanky ass for anything.”

Izzy and Jenna laughed out loud at Mikayla’s brash speech and started for the door.

“Yeah, well, you won’t get the full five k, ya know! They take out taxes! They take out lots of taxes right off the bat!”

“Maybe some of that tax money will go to removing this landfill!” Jenna shouted back as the women, all laughing out loud, left the store.

“Now that was a good meal!” Adele held the door open as the girls, Sean, and Izzy stepped out of the dark, closed space of the Irish pub and into the sticky damp of the early Nashville evening.

“Who knew you could get the best Irish food in the South?”

“Show me, Sean, where deep fried pickles are Irish food.” Izzy grinned.

“Okay, you got me there. So, who’s up for a stroll downtown? Maybe find a place with great live music.”

“Sounds like fun. Girls, you wanna hang out with the parents a bit more?”

“I’ve got just the place!” Mikayla tossed her hair and laughed at her mother. “A place called ‘Second Chance’s.’ Jenna, you are going to love the bands they have there and the guys are seriously hot, it’s a complete meat market!”

“Oh yes, that’s what a mother wants to hear from the mouth of her daughter.” Adele frowned at Mikayla. “Izzy, how about you?”

Izzy glanced in the direction of the hotel. “I was thinking I’d just turn in early.”

“Oh Mom, come on. Please come with us?”

Izzy looked at her daughter and smiled. “Okay. Where is this place?”

The walk to Second Chance’s was several blocks down to the heart of the music district. As warm rays of the sun lengthened and cooled in the settling of night, revelers filled the sidewalks and the doorways of the countless clubs and eateries. Music and neon throbbed through a haze of mouthwatering food smells. Dazzled with the color of it all Izzy was hardly conscious of the distance they’d walked until Sean opened a door and said, “Here we are!”

The girls evaporated in a sea of dancing bodies while Sean led Adele and Izzy up the stairs to the bar, where tables lined the railing overlooking the stage.

“I’ll go get the drinks, ladies, you enjoy the show!” Sean left as Adele and Izzy looked at the band on the stage.

“At least it’s not a howling band.” Adele toyed with the salt and pepper shakers on the table. “I can’t abide howling bands or bands that are too country, you know what I mean?”

“Sure,” Izzy answered vaguely, leaning on the railing to get a better look at the band.

Sean returned with drinks, and the rest of their conversation faded from Izzy’s consciousness as she lost herself in thoughts of her future now that she held a winning lottery ticket. She sipped her drink and nodded politely whenever Adele glanced in her direction, but her brain was busy sorting out what she was going to do. She was so deep in thought, she wasn’t aware the music stopped until she realized Adele was shoving her roughly. “What, Adele, what do you want?”

“Why does that man look familiar?”

As she focused on the tall, dark haired man on stage, Izzy took in a deep breath. The man was perfection. Under the hot lights his dark, gleaming hair just brushed his strong jaw.
I’ve seen him before.

“Ladies and gents,” his easy, light Tennessee accent stirred something warm and wanting deep inside Izzy. “I’d like to thank you for coming out tonight and listening to some great local bands.”

“We love you Quinn!”

The unified shouts of several women startled Izzy, breaking her trancelike concentration from the man

Quinn smiled back at the audience. “I love you all, too. Most of you know I make my living talking about sports, but music has been a passion of mine for years. How about a big hand for Chance, for keeping this place open and bringing us fantastic independent music night after night?”

Here he pointed up to the balcony, where a spotlight suddenly glowed near Izzy. She didn’t look toward the owner of the bar, who waved at the crowd below. Her gaze
was locked with the clear, blue-green eyes of the singer. She couldn’t look away and she couldn’t blink.
Those are the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.

He’s the man from the funeral.

Everything around her narrowed until all that was left was the glow of the spotlight around her. Izzy saw nothing but Quinn’s eyes looking up at her. He held his gaze steady with her for a silent eternity. Everything else was dark and silent, like a protective cloud around them. There was no time, no sound, just the glow of recognition in his beautiful eyes. It didn’t matter one bit that they were strangers and would probably never be closer to each other than in this dumpy space
.
There was a connection between them, and Izzy was lost in it.

“What are you staring at? Do you know that guy?”

Izzy blinked at the staccato blast of Adele’s voice, and the connection was lost. The party below raged on as the band Quinn introduced started playing. Quinn was gone.

Izzy, too, ached to leave. “I’m sorry, Adele. I’m not good company tonight. I don’t think I feel well. I’m going to go back to the hotel.”

“You’re not sick are you?” Adele’s eyes narrowed. “We have a lot of moving to do tomorrow you know.”

No room for discussion about that.
“Oh, no,” Izzy wiped her eyes. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I just need…I need some air. I think I’ll walk back to the hotel.”

“What
, right now? Alone?”

“Sure. It’s not that late, really, and besides, you and Sean, you guys need some time alone, too. So I’ll just get back.”

“Are you sure?”

Izzy looked over the balcony hoping to spot Quinn, but she couldn’t find him. “Oh, I’m sure. I’ll be fine.”

***

She’s here.
Quinn walked backstage and laid his guitar in its case.
Isabella Landry is here, in this building. I could reach out and touch her and it wouldn’t be weird or stalkerish.