“You’re still singing?”
“Nothing as fancy as you, but yep, still singing occasionally. I’m singing there tonight. Why don’t you stop by?”
Frankie’s. That’s where she’d gotten her first taste of performing. Well, besides singing in the choir at church and some high school productions.
“Remember when we did that duet at the Variety Show in high school?” Dylan grinned. “We were great.”
“Except the skit Shawn and the football players did singing that silly song took first place.”
“And not a one of them could carry a tune. They had a campy, hilarious skit though.”
Missy could remember wanting to be awarded first place in the Variety Show so badly back then. But it hadn’t been meant to be. A lot of her hopes and dreams didn’t seem to be meant to be.
“So you’ll drop by tonight?” Dylan looked at her.
“Well, I’ll check and see if my mom has anything planned. Though I’m sure she’s baking all night for the tree lighting ceremony. A matter of fact, I should head over there now and help her out. I’ll try to stop by tonight.”
“That would be great. Hope to see you then.”
~ * ~
Dylan looked out over the crowd at Frankie’s. He’d already finished one set and was taking a short break. He’d hoped Missy would show up. He knew he was just small time compared to her singing career, but he’d still hoped she’d drop by. He’d learned a lot since she’d left town. How to please a crowd, get them singing along, or quieted down when he sang a ballad. Maybe he even wanted to show off a bit for Missy.
She had looked good today. Still the quick smile, even if a hint of sadness haunted the corners of it now. Her impossible curly brown hair she’d always said she’d trade in a flash for her cousin Becky Lee’s long blonde hair. But he thought Missy’s hair suited her personality, even if it had always annoyed her that it didn’t ever cooperate how she’d planned. And Missy planned everything in her life. She’d planned to be a country singer since they’d been young kids and here she was, living the life in Nashville.
He sat at a table, nursing a beer, wondering what it would be like to be singing in Nashville. But then, he’d no desire to leave town. He was quite content with his life here in Comfort Crossing and his occasional gig at Frankie’s.
“Hey, there.” Shawn and Belinda walked up to him. “We got Belinda’s mom to watch Billy tonight. Thought we’d have a night on the town. Went to Magnolia Cafe for dinner, then decided to catch you here.” Shawn held out a chair for Belinda to sit in.
“Just taking a quick break.”
“I’ll be right back. Belinda, you want a beer?” Shawn rested his hand on her shoulder.
“Yes. A light one.”
“As ever.” Shawn leaned over and kissed the top of Belinda’s head and she smiled.
Belinda shrugged off her jacket. “So, I hear Missy is back in town for Christmas.”
“She is. I ran into her today. I invited her to come here tonight, but she wasn’t sure if her mother had plans for them, or what.”
“Oh, well, it will be good to see her if she does come.” Belinda smiled.
Dylan detected no trace of jealousy or insecurity in Belinda’s eyes. Just a woman confident in the love of her husband. It must be nice to have someone so in love with you and so secure in that love.
Dylan felt someone standing behind him and turned. “Missy, you did decide to come.”
“I did.” She smiled at him and turned to Belinda. “Good to see you Belinda.”
“It’s been a long time.” Belinda reached out her hand and Missy shook it.
Dylan jumped up and pulled out a chair for Missy. She slid into her seat, right as Shawn returned.
“Missy.” Shawn froze for the briefest moment. “I heard you were in town. Good to see you.” He put Belinda’s beer down in front of her.
“I came by to catch Dylan’s set.”
“So did we.” Shawn sat down beside his wife.
The four of them sat in silence for a moment.
“Can I get you—”
“Do you want—”
Dylan and Shawn spoke at the same time then laughed. Dylan stood up. “Let me get you a drink, Missy.”
“Thanks. A beer is fine.”
Dylan nodded and headed to the bar.
~ * ~
“So. You two got married.” Missy shifted in her chair.
“We did. Five years ago in February.” Belinda took a sip of her beer. “We have a son, Billy.”
“He’s a handful,” Shawn added. “Cute, but a handful.”
“That’s nice.”