Liddie sat at a long table next to Em Brennan, the wife of Tobias’s producer, Mick. The two women were close in age, and when Em found out that Liddie’s uncles owned a vintage shop, she squealed and said, “I think you’ve just found a new best friend.” They’d spent the next half hour talking about vintage glassware and antique paper before the conversation turned more personal.
“How long have you known Tobias?” Em asked.
“Since we were about eleven or so. We were high school sweethearts, kind of.” At Em’s interested look, Liddie explained the complicated logistics of a long-distance relationship when one couldn’t drive and wasn’t supposed to be dating, period, much less dating an “undesirable” boy.
“Wow, so a sort of Romeo and Juliet situation, but not.” Em snapped a carrot stick with her teeth. “That must have been hard.”
“Yeah, it was.” Liddie sucked in a deep breath. “So how long have you and Mick been together?”
“A little over six years. I moved in upstairs from him, and things just kind of went from there.”
“Kind of like a Hallmark movie.”
Em laughed. “Fat-chick data analyst moves in upstairs from a lonely widower. Yeah, that sounds just like a Hallmark movie, actually.”
“Oh my gosh—he lost his wife when he was young, then.”
“Two years after they were married. It was tragic.” Em sighed. “I’m a big believer in signs and things happening when they’re supposed to. See, we actually met almost twenty years ago at a terrible dive bar. I was with my best friend, Ashley, and Mick was with his buddy, Rory. It was just a random encounter—we didn’t even catch each other’s names. Every once in a while, I’d think about it, but then I’d move on to something else, you know? And then one night we were talking about that bar, and we figured out that we’d met there once before. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I’d actually tried to find out his name and number all those years ago.”
Liddie nodded. “I get it.”
Em’s husband slid into the chair next to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You ladies finished planning your world domination?”
“Oh, maybe. I think it might entail a visit to Hemlock Creek, though. Liddie’s uncles own a shop that sounds as though it’s right up my alley.”
“Oh Lardy,” the big producer replied with a grin. “Just tell me when, girlie. So, Liddie, you ready to see your b’y tear it up?”
“Um, yeah?” Liddie wasn’t quite sure what a “b’y” was, but she assumed Mick was talking about Tobias, so she went with it.
“Good. He said he had some surprises for us tonight.”
“Hello, y’all, and thanks for coming out to Foley’s Public House tonight. I’m Tobias Harper, and y’all get to put up with me for the next few hours. I’m not much for the patter, so let’s get to it. I’ll start off with a classic.”
Tobias played almost nonstop for the next two and a half hours, mostly instrumental country standards. When he did play something with vocals, the song was usually his own composition, but he never claimed credit. He just let people assume he was covering a popular song.
He took a short break halfway through the evening, coming over to the table where Liddie sat. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and then leaned over to shake Mick’s hand before snagging a glass of water.
“Darlin’, you enjoying the music?” Tobias asked after he’d drained the glass of water.
“Yes, I am. I haven’t heard a lot of these songs in a long time.”
“Yeah, they don’t get much radio airplay anymore, but they’re on playlists all over the place, so people obviously still like them.” He smooched her cheek again. “Okay, I’m headed back up.” He winked at her and ambled back to the stage.
Boy, those jeans fit him just right.
Liddie was concentrating so hard on Tobias’s butt that she barely perceived another couple joining them at the table. In fact, it wasn’t until Tobias called out from the stage that she noticed.
“This next song goes out to my baby brother, who is actually the biggest of us Harpers. He’s also the fellow who creates these great Friday-night tasting menus for Foley’s Public House. So this one’s for you, Nolan.”
Liddie’s breath caught in her throat when she looked over at Nolan and heard the first strains of the song emanate from the Dobro in Tobias’s lap. Nolan grinned at her and gave her a wave. Before the second stanza, Liddie was up out of her chair and wrapping him in a hard hug. He held on to her as well, giving her a squeeze before letting her go. Nolan nodded to the woman sitting next to him, and the three exchanged silent greetings before Liddie slid back into her seat. She kept sneaking looks at Nolan, whom she last saw when he was eight. He’d been a pudgy kid with a big smile and pretty eyes. Now he was a big bear of a man, inked and bearded like his two brothers, but the eyes and the smile hadn’t changed.
Between the music and the appearance of Nolan, Liddie barely kept a rein on her emotions. She was glad the crowd seemed to discourage talking during Tobias’s sets. It gave her time to think, and to not think—to just feel. True to his earlier statement, Tobias didn’t talk much at all, merely thanked the crowd for its appreciative applause or to direct attention to Meghan and Sully, the daughter-father team who ran Foley’s Public House.
It was getting late, and Liddie saw Meghan circle a finger overhead, signaling Tobias to wrap up the set. He nodded and began plucking out a familiar tune.
“I started writing this song when I was sixteen, lonely, and missing the girl whom I called my best friend.” Tobias closed his eyes as he played. This must be what he looks like when he comes.
He began to talk again. “I recorded the song because I was eighteen, pissed off, and the girl I called my best friend had been sent away and I had no idea where she was. But now, thirty years later—fuck yeah, we’re old, y’all—that girl is back, and I’m thankful for the chance to get to know her again. This one is for you, Liddie; it’s always been for you.”
The first time she’d heard the song over the closing credits of a fairly mediocre movie, she’d recognized the core melody as something Tobias had let her preview years before. She’d stayed in the theater until the last strains went silent and the lights had come on, and then she’d gone into the restroom and thrown up. She’d been pregnant with Tally and used the excuse of morning sickness and overactive pregnancy hormones to cover her distress. Now, silent tears ran down Liddie’s face as the dam that held her emotions finally broke, and she wept for all the years they’d lost. But at the same time, she wept for the second chance that fate had given her. And as the last bits of melody faded into the night air and the crowd erupted in applause, Liddie met Tobias’s steady gaze and knew that he felt the exact same way.