When in Rome(27)

“There’s not like a…back entrance we could go in, is there? And do you have a hat in your truck? I didn’t realize this was going to be so crowded or I would have—”

Madison starts pushing me from behind. My body is being propelled toward the front door, and I look like a cat approaching water. She laughs. “This town is harmless. Trust us. We’ll take care of you. And Emily runs the roost around here, so they’ll listen to her.”

Mm-hmm. Then why do I feel like I’m being offered up as a sacrifice to the neon beast?

Annie opens the door for all of us and gives me an empathetic smile when the country music spills out. It’s loud and rowdy in there. Thrilling and terrifying. “Let Emily go first.”

I hang back as instructed and practice a few breathing techniques I use before going on stage when my nerves get the best of me. I don’t get through my second breath before Madison grabs my hand and yanks me inside with her.

I swear the next thirty seconds happen like this:

We walk through the door.

All heads swivel in our direction.

The group of people line-dancing in the middle of the room come to a swift halt.

The music cuts off.

Everything goes so silent we can hear the click of the door shutting behind us.

And everyone stares at me.

As it turns out…these people are familiar with pop music. Or at least just celebrities. Because they are definitely looking at me like I am one. The heavy scent of beer and sweat, mixed with the way my heart is ramming against my chest, makes me feel like I’m going to be sick. This was a bad idea. Leaving Nashville was a bad idea. Why in the hell did I think I could just slip into a town undetected and spend time here in blissful solitude? Now they all know I’m here and my peace has run out. Forget Monday, I’ll have to leave tonight because any second now they’ll lift their phones, snap photos, and upload them to all the social media platforms. Paparazzi will be here within the hour. It’s how it always goes.

I turn to rush out the door, but Madison catches my forearm. “Hang on. It’s okay.”

She nods at Emily and I watch in amazement as the woman hops up on the top of the bar and cups her hands around her mouth. “All right, listen up, all you fellow hillbillies! I’ve got my friend Rae Rose here and she’s looking for a good time and zero bother. So act like your mama taught you some manners and let’s treat her with respect! Also, she’s flying under the radar in our town for the next little bit, so do her a favor and pretend you never saw her. Everybody got it?”

There’s a hearty roar from the crowd and affirming nods, beers raised, and wide smiles.

“Good! Now someone get me a drink!”

Emily is a goddess. That’s all I can say, because everyone does exactly as she says. The music cranks up, laughter starts again, everyone turns back to what they were doing before we walked in, the man behind the bar helps Emily down and then puts a beer in her hand.

And that’s that.

No one treats me differently. No one stares. No one asks for an autograph. For the next half hour, the Walker sisters and I laugh and drink and talk. I honestly forget that I’m considered important everywhere else in the world. Yeah, they want to know what it was like dating my ex, Tyler Newport (I imagine a lot like dating that vain Disney queen who constantly looked in the mirror and asked who was the fairest of them all). They also want to know my favorite thing about being a singer (an issue I sidestep because my career crisis has spiked to epic heights and I completely blank on any good aspects of it), but those questions end pretty quickly, and then our conversation moves along.

“I have to admit,” I tell the ladies after finishing my first beer and feel a little more loose. “I was worried everyone was going to freak out when they saw me walk in. I’ve been in the middle of fan mobs before and I was terrified it was about to happen again.”

Madison laughs, because to any outsider, a “fan mob” sounds like a whimsical scene in a Disney movie. In reality, it’s painful, scary, and such an invasion of emotional and physical security that it’s difficult to bounce back. But most people have no idea about any of that so I forgive her the chuckle.

“If they looked interested, it’s only because this town’s been looking for something to talk about ever since Kacey got knocked up and everyone was sure it was Zac’s but the baby ended up just being her husband, Rhett’s, after all. They’ve been bored ever since.”

Emily leans over the table a little farther. “But seriously…I was sure it was Zac’s. Especially after the way he—”

“Looked at her at church that Sunday! Yes!” Madison slaps the table making their beers slosh. Annie only contributes to the conversation with a quiet smile and chuckle. “But anyway, we’re all good people around here. We just needed to set them straight from the start. They won’t bother you now, and you don’t have to worry about anyone leaking your visit on social media, because in case you haven’t noticed, there’s no cell service around here. Our brother doesn’t even own a cell phone.”

I’m not surprised that he doesn’t own a cell phone. I am, however, curious at the way my skin prickles from only that tiny mention of Noah. How my mind flashes a montage of his hands on my body, his moody mouth eagerly exploring mine. The zing of rightness that flew through me when our skin touched.