Inspire (The Muse #1)(43)
Author: Cora Carmack

Cordell was diagnosed with cancer about a year after it became our regular haunt. The chemo wore him out so much that he couldn’t play all day like he used to. Hell, some days he was lucky to play at all. That’s when Rook and I made a deal with Lori, his wife. We’d play shifts whenever we could in exchange for free food. Cordell passed about two years ago, but Lori still has the place going strong.

I’ve been avoiding Chords for a while now, since I quit music. It was just too hard to think about being here when I couldn’t play. But when Kalli said to take her some place that I loved … well, I couldn’t think of anywhere else but here. I want her to like it for reasons I can’t even parse out in my head, considering me and music are no more. But it feels important all the same.

I park my car and jump out, intending to run in and say a quick hello to Lori if she’s here before Kalli arrives. But there parked in the row right behind me is Kalli’s sedan.

Her head droops down onto the steering wheel, and she’s huddled into a little ball like she’s cold. I blow out a breath, the air just barely fogging in front of my face. I wonder if maybe her heater is broken, and the stab of pain I feel at the idea of her sitting in that cold car shocks me. I take a few steps toward her, and rap my knuckles lightly against her window.

She snaps up quickly, her head whirling around toward me, and I smile at the look of shock in her eyes. For a moment, she just sits there, frozen, before fumbling for the door handle.

She pushes it open harder than I expect, and it whacks into my knees. I step back, wincing, and hear her call out, “Oh crap. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” I move aside, and she opens the door all the way, and a wave of heat pours out. I frown. So she definitely wasn’t cold.

“You’re early,” I say.

She starts to get out of the car, then remembers that she’s still got it turned on, and she wrestles with the keys for a moment before pulling them free, grabbing her purse, and rising to stand in front of me.

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure exactly where I was going, and I didn’t want to be late.”

I bite my tongue against the suggestion that she should have let me pick her up, and instead gently close her door for her. We stand there for a moment looking at each other awkwardly. I feel so connected to her, but at the same time, we’ve only seen each other on a handful of occasions, and none of those have been purposeful. This is entirely new territory for us. I lift my hands to touch her arms, running them up and down over the sweater she’s wearing, and say, “Come on. Let’s get you out of the cold.”

She nods, her lips pressed tightly together, and while I’m deciding whether or not it’s presuming to drape my arm around her, she begins walking off toward the restaurant entrance. I jog to catch up, but I’ve missed my moment to hold her. She’s walking too fast now for me to coolly slide my arm over her shoulders. I do get far enough ahead to open the door for her, and she gives me a brief smile before ducking inside.

Chords is a small place. Seats maybe thirty people in all. There are about ten customers now, but the limited seating makes it look more crowded than it is.

“So this is one of your favorite places?” she asks.

I try to see it through her eyes. Mismatched chairs and tables. Mason jars for glasses, but not the kind that are made with handles. Real, actual mason jars. Just like always, there’s a guy playing guitar off in the corner, but he’s not anyone I recognize. There are old instruments, knick knacks, and photos on the walls. Stuff from Cordell and Lori’s life together. I know that it’s not much. Definitely not the kind of place I’ve ever taken any other girl on a first date, and my stomach twists and twists with worry.

“It is,” I answer moments before I hear my name being called and Lori descends on me. She looks the same as the last time I saw her, white hair set in perfect curls.

“Wilder Bell, as I live and breathe.”

I leave Kalli’s side to accept the hug Lori offers. She feels smaller and more vulnerable in my arms, but her grip on me is as tight as ever.

“It’s been too long, son.”

I want to say something, offer up an excuse or an apology, but the words get stuck. Lori doesn’t notice. She releases me in favor of Kalli and says, “And who is this lovely creature?”

Kalli starts to answer, but she gets folded into a hug, shocking her into silence. I shove my hands in my pockets, and her wide eyes meet mine over Lori’s shoulder. Then after a moment, she returns my smile and softens in the woman’s hold, hugging her back.

“Kalli, this is Lori. She owns the restaurant. And Lori, this is Kalli. We’re here for a first date.”

Lori glances at me over her shoulder, lifting an eyebrow, but she doesn’t comment.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Kalli says, and Lori returns the sentiment. “Do you have a bathroom I could use before we sit down?”

Lori directs her toward the hallway back by the kitchens, and I watch her weave between the tables. When she’s gone, Lori whistles.

“That’s quite a look you’re giving her for a first date, Wilder Bell.”

She’s only ever called me by my full name. Ever since the first time I sat on that stool in the corner and said it over the microphone before playing my first set.

“It’s not a normal first date,” I tell her.

One side of her mouth lifts high in a crooked smile, and her eyes crinkle as she looks at me. Shaking her head, she says, “No, I don’t think it is. Did Cordell ever tell you about our first date?” I shake my head. “That fool took me bowling. On a first date. He very nearly didn’t get a second, but he was just so damn charming.”

“Are you making fun of me for my date choice?”

“You know I love this place with everything under my skin, but when you look at a girl like you look at her, I’d think you’d try a little harder.”

I smile. “I thought about that. But she’s different. She wanted me to take her some place that meant something to me. You don’t get much more meaning than this.”

I’m alarmed when Lori blinks, and then stubbornly wipes away a few tears that track down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

She shushes me. “I just see a lot of my Cord in you.” She nods, fighting off a few more lingering tears, and says, “You could get away with taking a girl bowling, too.”

I laugh and hug her again.

She says, “Well, tell me how I can help. I’ll make sure the cook is on the ball, of course. You wanna play for her? I’m sure Jimmy would welcome the break.”

“No,” I say, too fast, then sigh. “No, I’d rather not. I don’t—I’m taking a step away from that at the moment. Going a different direction.”