Can I?
No, that’s crazy… and so not me.
My computer dings with another email notification.
You’re sitting there thinking of all the reasons you’re not going to do what I told you to do. So, this is me figuratively pushing you out the door. GO! DO IT! THANK ME LATER!
Letting out a pent-up breath, I shoot her back a response.
FINE.
Already feeling the nerves, I push myself off the bed, and before I can second-guess my decision, I grab the first pair of jeans I see and pull them on. Then, I browse through my tops and pick the first one that isn’t a T-shirt or looks like it came from my mother’s closet. To finish it off, I slip on a pair of cute flats. Not heels. I’m tall enough on my own, thank you very much.
Bracing my arms on the side of the vanity in my bathroom, I try to slow my breathing as I look at myself in the mirror. “You can do this… you’re a twenty-four-year-old woman… you’re an adult. It’s not like you’re going to commit a crime.”
My pep talk does very little to calm the jitters I feel through my body, but I don’t let them stop me. Using the blow dryer, I finish off my hair, making it fall in line as much as I can and hoping I can pull off the freshly showered look. Swiping on some mascara, I pinch my cheeks and finish the look with a coat of berry red lip gloss.
There, that’s good.
“You’re good,” I whisper to the girl in the mirror, thinking back to when Vali said those exact words to me and feeling the heat again, which solidifies my decision.
Yeah, I’m totally doing this.
When I walk down the hall, I peek into the living room and see my dad still in his usual evening spot. Bypassing him, I head into the kitchen. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hey,” she says, eyes trained on the last few jars she’s dipping into a pot of boiling water.
Clearing my throat, I bite the bullet. “I’m, uh, going out for an hour or so,” I tell her, trying to sound confident and in charge of my life. “I’ll be home by ten thirty… eleven at the latest.”
At that, her head snaps up and I watch as her eyes go wide when my words register. “Going out?” she asks. “With who?”
“Uh, some friends.” It feels a bit like a lie, but I try to sell it. Besides, I’m sure there will be people I know at Genie’s. I mean, I’ve never been there, but I know pretty much everyone in Green Valley. They’re not my friends, per se, but they’re at least acquaintances. “From the self-defense class,” I add, grasping at straws. “They mentioned going out tonight and I decided it sounds fun… and it’s Friday. I’ll be back in plenty of time to get in bed and be at work in the morning.”
Eventually, my mom nods her agreement. There’s an expression of reluctance, but it’s like she’s warring with herself, knowing she can’t really tell me no. Sure, I live under her roof, but I am an adult. And even though I haven’t exercised many of my adult rights in the past, I am old enough to leave the house by myself at nine o’clock at night and go somewhere besides the Piggly Wiggly.
“Okay,” she finally says. “You have your phone, right?”
“Yeah.” Holding it up, I show it to her.
“Okay,” she says again. “Be careful and call if you need anything.”
Giving her a reassuring smile, I nod. “I will. Love you.”
The next thing I know, I’m in my car driving to Genie’s.
On a Friday night.
Like a normal twenty-four-year-old.
And, oh my God, I’m going to Genie’s on a Friday night.
What if Vali and his brothers aren’t there? Or what if they are and Frankie and Tempest aren’t with them?
What if I trip on my way in the door?
What if they ask for my ID?
No, that’s stupid. Again, I know everyone and they know how old I am.
Letting out a maniacal laugh, I shake my head. “Stop it, Maggie. Get over yourself. It’s just a bar… in Green Valley, Tennessee. It’s not like you’re jumping off a bridge or flying over the ocean.”
Mentally, I continue to make a list of things that are scarier than walking into a bar by myself—spiders bigger than a quarter, shadows in the dark, clowns... By the time I pull into the parking lot, I’m so distracted by list-making that I’m out of my car and in the bar before I know it.
Chapter 7
Vali
Friday nights at Genie’s have quickly become one of my favorite rituals since moving to Green Valley.
We Ericksons have our Friday nights down to an art. First, we show up at eight thirty to ensure we get a coveted booth. Then, we order a few pitchers of beer and some food, so we can relax and bullshit and blow off some steam before the crowd picks up.
Back home in Dallas, nights out on the town are way more stressful. You have to decide where you want to go, which causes more grief than you’d think, thanks to all of the establishments to choose from. Second, you have to make a reservation, knowing you’ll still be waiting on your table even though you show up on time. If the reservation times don’t work for everyone in your group, you go back to step one and pick a new place. And don’t even get me started on the traffic you’ll encounter to get to the final destination.
It’s a shit-ton of stress for something that’s supposed to be relaxing.
Genie’s is another surprising reason I actually prefer Green Valley to Dallas. I didn’t realize life could be so much easier in a small town. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a city boy at heart, but I can definitely appreciate small-town living.
“Cheers to another successful week.” Cage holds his mug of beer above the middle of the table and we—Tempest, Gunnar, Frankie, and me—do the same, clinking our mugs together before taking large celebratory gulps.
“Let me be the first to congratulate Tempest on her kick-ass class, which saw a seventy-five percent increase in attendance this week,” I say, tipping my beer in her direction before draining it and pouring a refill.
“Well, thank you, but I have no doubt the increase was due to your brilliant ad in the paper. So, thank you, Vali, for your marketing help.”
Even though I completely agree with her statement, no one likes a braggart, so I wave off her praise like it’s no big deal. And it really isn’t one. It’s basic marketing I’m happy to do while I’m here. I like doing my part and feeling useful, but I admit, hearing how Tempest appreciates my work is pretty cool.
“Who else has something to share?” Gunnar asks. I notice his elbow nudging Frankie, causing her to blush and mouth the word “stop” to him. Tempest must notice, as well, because she pounces before I’m able to.
“What? What’s going on here?” she asks, pointing back and forth between them. “There are no secrets here, so spill.”
“This is the first time in two years the shelter has only had one family to take care of. I know it may seem weird to celebrate a loss of… business or whatever you want to call it but it’s pretty amazing. We haven’t had any new cases all week and we were able to find permanent housing for the family we have.” Frankie is always reluctant to bring attention to herself but it’s easy to see the pride on her face as she shares her news. “Give us another week and Gunnar and I might have to find somewhere else to volunteer our time.”