Red Rose
Steven pulls up to an old brick building on the outskirts of town, and I search for any signs indicating where he’s taken me. The broken-down lettering above the door is only partly lit, but I can still make out the name Red Rose. Though, that is no help solving the mystery. My eyes wander the nearly empty parking lot until they land on a marque that reads: Two for One on Thursdays and Karaoke/Open Mic on Sundays.
When my eyes snap back to Steven, he’s smirking at me. “Did you seriously bring me to a bar?”
“I did,” he says, nodding as he rubs his jaw. “But it’s not just any bar. My dad played a lot of gigs at the Red Rose, and he used to bring me here all the time. So, it’s kind of a special place for me.”
My chest tightens as the lump in my throat grows, leaving me speechless. Steven has already shared so much of himself with me today, and now he’s sharing this place with me. It all seems so intimate, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. But as he gets out of the truck, I follow him.
He doesn’t wait for me as he makes his way inside, only checking over his shoulder for me once, and I wonder if he’s as nervous about bringing me here as I am about being here. As soon as we walk in the door, people greet him as if he’s Norm walking into Cheers. The bar is dark with Christmas lights streaming across the ceiling. The walls have some type of paneling on them, though that’s barely noticeable due to all the random photographs, signs, and scribbles on them. To the far right is a wooden bar, and there’re a few tables scattered throughout the space. In the very back, there are spotlights pointing at a stage with microphones and other musical equipment. It’s not fancy by any stretch of the imagination, but it does look like a suitable place for a musician to practice their craft.
When an older couple begins to approach us with huge smiles on their faces, Steven places a hand on the small of my back and urges me to step up beside him. The woman reminds me a little of Joan Jett with her short black hair, tight tank top and tattoos. While the man has more of a Bret Michaels vibe with his long hair, bandanna, and band t-shirt.
“Steven!” the woman greets him, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “It’s so good to see you.” Her voice is raspy in a way that was probably sexy once—before years of inhaling cigarette smoke.
As the woman steps back, the man reaches out to shake Steven’s hand. “Hey, man. Are you here to play for us?”
Steven chuckles, nervously rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes cut over to me. “Uh…maybe.” The couple follows Steven’s gaze over to me, and my entire body stiffens, the heat of Steven’s touch feeling as if it’s burning my skin.
“Who’s this you brought with you?” the woman asks.
“This is my friend, Lori,” Steven tells them, his eyes flickering to them then back to me. “Lori, this is Tammy.” He gestures to the woman who waves at me, then to the man next to her. “And this is her husband, Tony. They own the Red Rose. I’ve known them pretty much my whole life.”
I swallow the nervous bile in my throat and give them a bright smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Well, ya’ll come on in,” Tammy says, waving for us to follow as she heads back over to the bar.
“Yeah…come get you a drink,” Tony adds, eyeing us over his shoulder as he follows his wife. “Steven is like family to us, so all drinks are on the house, Lori.”
Steven’s hand presses on my back willing me forward, and I mindlessly comply, moving toward the bar. I’m so thrown by everything that’s happening, I can’t even think straight.
“I’m driving, so I better not have a drink,” Steven says as we reach the bar. He removes his hand from my back as he turns to me, and I let out a breath. “Did you want anything?”
I shake my head. “I’m good. I think I’m still recovering from last night.”
Tammy rubs her hands together with excitement. “Does that mean you did come here to give us a little entertainment?”
Steven threads his fingers through his beard. “Well…I was hoping to show Lori around. But I suppose I could play a little something before I go.”
“Don’t let her pressure you,” Tony says. “You show your girl around and let us know if you need anything.”
My eyes go round at his assumption, but Steven merely thanks him before meeting my gaze again and gesturing with a jerk of his head to follow him. He walks over to a short hallway next to the stage with me on his heels, coming to a stop in front of some framed pictures on the wall. As I settle next to him, I give them my attention as well. There are various pictures of bands playing on stage, people in the crowds, and some more candid photos. The photographs are surrounded by more scribblings on the wall that appear to be autographs and various messages left for the owners.
“That right there,” Steven says, pointing at a picture of one of the bands on stage, “is my dad’s band, With Grace.” As I study the picture, immediately noticing the lead singer as the man from the photograph in Steven’s bedroom, he continues. “This is the first place that gave them a chance to play for a crowd, and it became the bar they called home.”
There’s a mixture of joy and sadness in his features when I turn to look at him, and my chest tightens. He meets my gaze briefly, giving me a sad smile before pointing to another picture on the wall. “That’s me,” he says, his face a little brighter and tone a little lighter. “I think I was about six in that picture. Dad used to bring me here before the bar opened so he could teach me to play the piano.”
My eyes snap over to the picture, eager to see young Steven with his dad, and I step a little closer to get a better look. Steven is sitting at the piano, his hands working the keys, and his father is standing behind him with a huge grin on his face. The pride and love in his father’s features causes my face to tingle as tears threaten to fill my eyes, and I quickly step back. While my brain scrambles for something to say, Steven points to some markings on the wall underneath the photograph of him with his dad.
“And that’s my autograph with my dad’s underneath it,” he tells me.
My throat swells and words continue to fail me as my gaze collides with Steven’s. My relationship with my parents may not be perfect, but I can’t imagine what it would have been like to lose both of them at such a young age. The fact that he lost them in sudden and tragic ways makes it even more heartbreaking. Being here with him is so overwhelming, and knowing he’s sharing a part of himself with me he hasn’t shared with Cat only adds to the emotions.
There’s an oddly comfortable silence that falls between us as we stand a little too close in the hallway, our locked eyes saying things we would never dare say out loud. And I find myself wishing the rest of the world would have ceased to exist so I could fully appreciate this moment. So I could be completely alone—with Steven. I’m not sure how something can feel so right when I know it’s wrong. I don’t think I even know what’s true anymore. Maybe I’ve merely let what Steven’s grandmother said get inside my head, but this feels right, and I want to stay inside this bubble with him.
Steven’s lips curve into an awkward smile as if he could read my thoughts, and my chest flames as he clears his throat. “Come on,” he says. He turns and begins to walk away, taking my hand in his to pull me along with him, and my heart flutters.
As he drags me up the steps of the stage, my eyes roam the bar. There are less than ten people in the bar, but they are all watching us, and my pulse begins to race. We walk up to what appears to be the same upright piano from the photograph, and Steven takes a seat, sliding over and giving me a tug so I’ll join him. Once we’re both seated, he lets go of my hand, cracks his knuckles and rolls his shoulders.
“My dad taught me to play on this piano,” Steven tells me as his head turns to me. “Do you know how to play?”
I shake my head. “Not even a little, but I’d love to see you play.”
Right on cue, the microphone next to the piano makes a screeching noise as it turns on. “Play something!” Tammy yells from across the bar.
Steven chuckles as he looks over his shoulder at her and shakes his head. When he swings it back in my direction, my breath stills as I realize just how close we are. “Any requests?”
My throat bobs as I shake my head and wet my dry lips, his eyes falling to them for a blink before he shifts again and adjusts the mic. He hits a couple keys, as if trying them out, then speaks into the mic. “Can you hear me?” The room cheers, and he grins as he looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “Okay, I might be a little rusty. Don’t be too hard on me,” he jokes.
My lips pucker and I roll my eyes, hoping the dim lighting is hiding my flushed skin as he begins to stroke the keys. “Mad World” by Gary Jules is one of my favorite songs, and I recognize it right away. As his smooth voice begins to sing the lyrics, my full heart beats angrily in my chest.
It’s official, I’m falling for him, and I’m completely fucked.
“Stars in the night sky,” I yell at the television, throwing my hands up. The woman playing Wheel of Fortune spins again hoping to get some more money but ends up losing a turn, and I scoff. “See, that’s what you get for being greedy.”
When I look over at my grandmother, she’s studying me with raised eyebrows and pressed lips.
“What?”
Her eyes narrow as she mutes the television. “You’re wound tighter than a drum tonight, what’s going on with you?”
“Nothing,” I lie.
The truth is, my night out with Lori at Red Rose left me feeling a little raw. I’ve never shared all of that with anyone before. It was a big deal. But I think it blurred the lines of my friendship with Lori even more, which makes me feel like I’ve done something wrong. And maybe I have or am because my feelings for Lori are more than what they should be.
Lori was quiet and distant on our way home that night, only adding to my feelings of insecurity. We were finally in a good place—finally figuring out this whole friendship thing. Now, I’m worried she’s going to pull away.
“Boy, don’t sit there telling me fibs. I think after all these years I can tell when something is bothering you.”
I throw my hands up in defeat then nervously rub them up and down my jean clad thighs. “Okay. Well…after you decided to tell Lori about my parents, I decided to take her to the Red Rose.”
Gram’s eyes widen, the rocking of her chair momentarily pausing. “Wow, that’s a big deal. She’s the first girl you’ve ever taken there, isn’t she?”
I nod. “Yeah, she is.”
“I think that’s wonderful. What’s the problem?”
“Lori isn’t the person I should be sharing those things with—she shouldn’t be the person I want to share them with, but she is.”
“Who says she shouldn’t be?”
“Gram, I know you know Lori and I aren’t dating. I’m dating her best friend, Cat. That’s who I should be sharing this stuff with.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way. You do have a choice in the matter.”
She has no clue how wrong she is. Lori never gave me the choice, and I’m pretty sure I have less of one now. But even if I had one, I’m still not sure I know what it would be. My connection with Lori is undeniable, but my relationship with Cat is good—easy.
“It’s not that simple. And I think I might have freaked Lori out. Maybe telling her everything was too much.”
“Oh, nonsense. That girl cares about you, I could see it in her eyes. The way she looked at you with a softness in her stare was very telling.” Hope blooms in my chest from her words, but it’s rooted with guilt. “If you want to know how she’s feeling, you should talk to her about it, not me.”
An hour later, I’m back home, playing catch with Elvis in the backyard, and my thoughts are still occupied with Lori. So, I decide to take my grandmother’s advice, pulling my phone from my back pocket and dialing Lori’s number.
By the time the third ring ends, and I’m about to give up, Lori answers. “Hello.”
I’m momentarily distracted by her panting, my blood heating as I shake my head to clear out the inappropriate thoughts floating through it. “You sound a little out of breath,” I say, letting out a nervous chuckle. “Did I catch you at a bad time.”
She scoffs. “No, I left my phone in the bedroom to charge. When I heard it ringing, I ran in here to answer it, thinking it was Julianna calling me back.”
“Julianna? Is everything okay?”
“Oh yeah, she’s fine. She just found out that prick ex-husband of hers didn’t sign the divorce papers, so she asked me to go up there with her to confront him.”
“What? Eric told me the divorce was done.”
“Shit! I probably shouldn’t have told you all of that. She doesn’t want Eric to know because she doesn’t want him to worry. Promise me you won’t tell him. Julianna will kill me, and she’s finally starting to trust me.”
Sighing, I rub the back of my neck and shake my head. Eric called me the other day with some ex drama of his own he asked me to keep a secret. Now, it would seem I’m keeping a secret for both of them. I think they would be better off if they were honest with each other. “I won’t tell him.”
“Thank you.”
The line goes quiet, but it doesn’t feel like an awkward silence.
“Wait a minute, the two of you aren’t planning to go up there to deal with that asshole alone, are you?”
She huffs. “Don’t even go there.” She’s trying to sound annoyed, but I can hear the humor in her tone.
“So, that’s a yes. I’m not sure that’s the best idea. From what Eric’s told me about the guy, he’s bad news. If you want, I can go with you.”
She sighs. “Was there a reason for your call, or…?”
I blow out a breath, taking the hint and letting it go. “I wanted to see how you were doing. You were quiet on the way home Sunday, and I guess I’ve been a little worried all of that was too much.”
“All of what was too much?”
“Meeting Gram, finding out about my parents, the Red Rose.”
She clicks her tongue. “I told you I loved your grandmother. She’s how I imagine I’ll be at that age.” I chuckle because I’d had the same thought about Lori and Gram. They say men end up falling for women who are like their mother, and Gram had been a mother to me, so the irony of Lori being like Gram isn’t lost on me. “As for the other stuff…I’m glad you shared it with me. My ears may never recover from your hideous singing and God awful piano skills, but…”
She joins me as I laugh this time, and my muscles feel relaxed for the first time in days. Things are still good between us, maybe even better than they were before.