The Pretty Lady and the Cowboy (Songs from the Heart) (7 page)

I had always considered myself too level-headed to have a crush on anyone, though in the interest of full disclosure, I confess that I might have had a brief one on Pierce Brosnan the summer Ally and I watched all the Remington Steel DVDs back to back. I dated a fair amount, but I never got romantic feelings based on a guy’s status. When I was in high school, I always thought it was silly to fall for a guy just because he was captain of the football team. And I never felt anything at all for any of the rock stars whose pictures were plastered all over my best friend’s wall. I was immune.

Or so I thought. I closed my eyes and remembered Levi’s delicious kiss, imagined his arms around me, thought of sharing that funny moment when our hats had bumped. Yes, he was a Big Star, but from what I’d seen of him so far, he was a really nice guy, too. Which one had I allowed to kiss me? Which one had I kissed back? Was I just star-struck?

I opened my eyes and tried to give myself a mental talking to. I reminded myself that there were always groupies, those females who swooned for Sinatra, sighed for Bing Crosby, screamed for the Beatles, fainted for Justin Bieber. I was
not
like that. I 
would not let
myself be like that. I had a store to run. I had a little sister to keep safe.

Shoot! I’d almost forgotten about Ally. I grabbed my cell phone from my desk and checked messages. Nothing. I tried Ally’s numbers again but still couldn’t reach her. She was doing a pretty good job of avoiding me, but I wasn’t going to let her get away with it. I sent her a text: HEY SIS—LUNCH SOON? CALL ME @ HOME LTR.

My hope was that a friendly text would stand a better chance of getting her to respond. I was still pretty new at this guardian business. And it was proving to be tricky, so I had to proceed with caution. On the one hand, I wanted to set some strict limits so her drinking wouldn’t get out of control. On the other hand, I had to make sure I wasn’t too harsh or she’d shut me out and never tell me anything. I needed to be a parent and a sister and a friend all at the same time.

I’d walked to The Finish Line this morning just to try to clear my head a little, so I didn’t have my car handy. I decided to ride the local trolley home. It stopped across the street about every fifteen minutes and a glance at my store clock told me it was due in a couple of minutes. I grabbed a spare sweatshirt, locked up, and walked over just as the trolley pulled up. It would drop me off about a block from my apartment.

I was glad for the chance to sit for a while. And to think.

Levi had taken me by surprise. Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t usually go around letting myself be kissed by guys I hardly know. Maybe I was just a little off balance because of my skinned knee.

You’re a big girl
, I told myself,
try to be realistic
. He’ll be singing at the casino for, what? Maybe another week? He’s just a guy enjoying the local “scenery” while he’s in town. Then he’ll be on to the next city, and the next, and the next, enjoying each new bit of local color as he goes.

Still, he wanted to see me again. Tomorrow night! I’d have to get Jess to help me figure out what to wear. There was no doubt that I wanted to see him again, too.

I got up and pulled the string that alerted the driver I wanted to get off at the next stop. Right now, all I wanted was a long soak in a hot bath followed by an early bedtime.

In my apartment, I sank into my favorite chair as the tub filled. I couldn’t resist sending Jess a text: JST BK FRM A RUN W LEVI. DATE SUN NITE.

Almost immediately she shot back: HOW IS THS FAIR?? I M THE FAN NT U!!

I typed out the reply: ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE & WAR. But I didn’t hit send. I knew this wasn’t war, but love? It felt dangerous just using the word, even as a joke. Instead I backspaced and typed: TUFF. SEE U @ TFL 2MOR

I stripped off my clothes, yanked off the bandages and climbed into the tub.

# # # # #

from Levi McCrory’s song notebook

“When It’s Right”—verse 1

Well, my mama made fried chicken every Sunday after church

and my cousins made sure they were always there

And we’d eat and lick our fingers and we’d talk and joke and laugh

and my pop would sigh and lean back in his chair.

And my aunts would always ask my mom to tell her how to make it

and to write it down so they could make it too.

But Mama never used a recipe,

She never measured anything.

She told them this and now I’m telling you:

Chorus:

When it’s right (clap clap), you just know it.

You can feel it in your heart and in your hands.

You don’t need to overthink it

’cause you’ll know it when you feel it

  (4 guitar chords or claps)

And when you feel it, then I know you’ll understand.

This is the first line dance song that’s popped into my head in a long, long time. Must be channeling Billy Ray or something. Or maybe it was seeing people in the audience dancing in the aisles. I love it when they’re up out of their seats. This really needs a very upbeat tune to keep it from going all sappy. Reminds me of Mom. Thanks, Mom!

# # # # #

Ally never did call me that night and I was torn between being ticked and being grateful. After my bath, I grabbed some blueberries and cottage cheese out of the refrigerator, toasted a bagel, and settled down to eat in front of the TV. I’m not usually big on reality TV, but as I channel surfed, I somehow got hooked on an episode of
The Bachelor.

Seriously, I thought, why would anyone want to turn her courtship into a soap opera competition? Who would want all those romantic, intimate moments that every girl dreams about to be broadcast on national TV? On the other hand, here I was watching and getting sucked in by the drama and the romance and the catfights (however phony those all were), so clearly the producers of the show knew what they were doing.

I was really rooting for one girl in particular named LeeAnn. She had a strong independent streak and refused the naked hot tub scene. “You go, girl!” I cheered at the TV. Unfortunately, independence didn’t seem to be one of the qualities The Bachelor valued in a potential wife and LeeAnn didn’t receive a rose at the end of the episode.

I flipped off the TV and thought about Levy as I padded into my bedroom. What would a romance with him be like? He lived such a public life and for much of it he was on stage in front of throngs of women who swooned over him, threw themselves at him—sort of like the women who tried to win the heart of The Bachelor, but multiplied about a million or so times. His kiss had been so gentle. But what if there had been no limo waiting outside? What might have happened? Thoughts of where the kiss might have led filled my head as it hit the pillow and I fell instantly fast asleep.

Sunday is the busiest day of the week at the store, so I didn’t get a lot of time to think as the day went on. And that was probably a good thing, because thinking too much would have made me even more nervous about tonight’s date with Levy. What would it be like to be out in public with a star?

I had called Jess that morning to ask if I could borrow the Marc Bouwer dress she’d bought a couple of months ago, a hot pink, silk sheath that leaves one shoulder bare. When there was a break in the flow of customers, we told Dan to cover for us for a few minutes and then ran back to the dressing room like excited teenagers. Her dress hugged every curve of my body, and the bare left shoulder felt sexy and seductive.

“You’re sure he’s worth this dress?” she teased.

“I’m sure
I’m
worth this dress,” I told her.

“Do I have to tell you to be careful? Remember, this is a guy who hasn’t just been around the block a few times. He’s been around the
world
a few times.”

“Okay, Auntie Jess,” I said, clasping my hands together and giving her an innocent look.

“Very funny,” she said. “But your old auntie knows what she’s talking about, so really, Kitty, take things easy.”

She switched back into wardrobe consultation mode. “Now please surprise me and say you’ve got something other than Sketchers t-straps for your feet.”

I did surprise her. I pulled out a pair of Jimmy Choo platform shoes with three-inch spike heels. The shoes were covered, heels and all, with multicolored sparkles. Jess was practically drooling.

I had bought these shoes to wear to a wedding. Patrick and I had just broken up so I was going solo to the event, my first solo voyage in a long time, and having these on my feet had given me an ego boost. They cost me more than about three weeks’ worth of groceries, but they made me feel beautiful when I slipped them on. At the wedding reception, a little boy had stared at them for a long time and then, in an awestruck voice, asked, “Are you a princess?” I’d said yes because that’s just how they made me feel.

“
Way
better than I expected,” Jess said approvingly. “There’s hope for you yet.” She gave me a hug. “Have the best time ever tonight, Kit. You deserve it!”

# # # # #

We worked steadily until about 1:00, and then I was surprised and delighted to see Ally walk through the door. It was a relief to see she wasn’t avoiding me, and I was glad we’d have a chance to talk.

She looked lovely, as usual. I saw no sign that her binge the other night had done her any harm. Probably the night had been harder on me than on her, I thought ruefully. She was the one who got to sleep late the next morning.

She was dressed in skinny jeans and a sort of tunic tee-shirt with an asymmetrical hem. Always the fashionista. I knew when people looked at the two of us together they probably thought of Ally as “the pretty one.” That’s what I thought when I saw pictures of the two of us side-by-side. She was the dark-haired beauty of the family. I always thought she looked like Scarlett O’Hara in
Gone with the Wind
.

I needed to have a serious talk with her about the drinking issue, but I also wanted to confide in her about tonight. Despite the difference in our ages, she’d done a lot more dating than I had. Maybe she could give me some advice.

I gave her a hug. “Hey, Sis, I’m glad to see you!” It made me happy that she had come here to the store.

“You, too,” she said. “Things are looking good here! And busy! Think you can slip out for lunch with me?”

“Just let me finish with this one guy and I’ll get Jess and Dan to take over for a while.”

She had a seat while I finished up. She checked her iPhone for messages, probably took a look at her Facebook page, gazed out the window. She looked perfectly normal. What had I been expecting—dark circles under her eyes? Or had I been wishing she’d show some signs of a guilty conscience?

“How about a quick bite at The Organic Market’s cafe?” I asked as we made our way out the door.

“I was really thinking about someplace where I could get a glass of wine,” she said.

“You’re suggesting this despite the fact that I practically had to carry you out of a frat party the other night?” I asked. It was a struggle to keep my voice quiet enough so the whole store full of people wouldn’t hear what I was saying.

“Kitty, that was no big deal,” she said, “except that I’m probably the laughing stock of that fraternity now that everybody saw you make such a big fuss and drag me out of there. But hey, that’s in the past. It’s a new day. I thought we’d go someplace nice and you could order a couple of glasses of Chardonnay or something and we could sip it together and have a nice time.”

“Drinking midday isn’t my style. And I don’t buy alcohol for minors,” I said. I could feel my body stiffening up, bracing for an argument. This conversation wasn’t starting out at all the way I had hoped.

“Oh, Kitty, you’re such a prude! How did I ever end up with you for a sister?”

I was about to make some snotty reply—nothing quite like sisters for knowing just how to push each other’s buttons—but she put an arm around me and gave me a little sideways squeeze.

“No worries,” she said. “Organic Market it is. Tofu egg salad! My favorite!”

She could always make me laugh. I grinned at her and said, “Well, you could always go with the vegetarian hot dog and baked beans.”

Even though it was October, it was still warm enough to eat outside, so we chose a sidewalk table. She liked to tease me about the health-food fare I often ate, but she enjoyed salads as much as I did and this place made a killer chopped salad that we both loved. We gave the waitress our order and then each took a sip of the ice water she had brought us.

I didn’t know quite where to begin, but I took a breath and plunged right in. “Ally, I’m worried about you. You scared the heck out of me last night.”

“Oh, right. Like you never took a drink in college,” she said mockingly.

“My college drinking career isn’t under discussion here,” I said. “But for the record, I never ended an evening throwing up in a fraternity bathroom.”

“Yay, you,” she said, in the same tone. Then she softened her voice slightly. “Honestly, Kit, it wasn’t a big deal. Alcohol is pretty much the safest thing a girl can get into these days.”

“Why don’t I find that reassuring?” I wondered aloud.

Our salads arrived and we ate in silence for a while.

“So what
would
you find reassuring?” she finally asked me.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m thinking maybe a room in a convent in some remote village, or maybe a couple of years in a military academy, or maybe just a good old-fashioned ball and chain.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Kitty, seriously!”

So I got serious. “I need to know you’re not turning into an alcoholic.”

“Hold it right there, Kit. I may have had a few drinks too many a couple of times but I’m not an alcoholic.”

I desperately wanted to believe that. “Well, how am I supposed to trust you after this?” I asked her.

Quickly she reached into her purse and pulled out an official-looking document. “I found the perfect apartment off-campus,” she said. “I can move in mid-term—right now if I want. Please, Kitty! If you’ll just sign this contract, I’ll promise to cut back on the booze.”