trailer—maybe he was waiting for her? Relieved, she stepped outside the RV, locked the door and hurried across the parking lot.
As he heard her footsteps, he smiled and gestured to her to come on. He opened the propped door for her and both returned to the party. Joe and Chuck had the crowd dancing as Libby returned to her table. Shortly thereafter, she joined the crowd, dancing beside her table: the drunk and the broken lens were soon forgotten, although the throb in her finger lingered.
* * *
After the close of the show, Joe and Chuck graciously greeted fans, signed autographs, posed for pictures and answered questions. Libby waited at her table, but her resolve began to fade as she mentally questioned her agreement to stay. Her mind raced with reasons to stay…and to go. When most fans seemed satisfied, Chuck began breaking down his equipment, and Joe did whatever he could between fans. Both paused intermittently to pose as fans requested pictures. The impatient staff stepped in to lend a hand and soon everything was loaded back into the travel trailer.
Joe walked over to Libby’s table and asked, “Ready?” as if he was waiting on her . Libby laughed at the thought, then nodded as she rose. Her mind raced with indecision. The two went out the door as the bouncer followed behind. He stayed until they were safely in their vehicles, then closed the bar door.
Libby fired up the RV and pulled alongside the SUV, thinking she’d just offer an excuse now—then she could easily drive on to Laura’s. Joe leaned out the window, “Just follow us—it’s not far.” Before she could offer her excuse, Chuck gunned the SUV and pulled the dented trailer onto the deserted highway. Libby followed behind; fretting that she should’ve told him she needed to go.
“I could just keep driving,” she mumbled to herself. “I know, Mama…I wasn’t raised that way,” she snorted. “Okay, a quick meal, just be polite, and then I’m outta there,” she resolved.
They drove about five miles out of town and pulled into the parking lot of an old, 1950’s style diner. Both pulled through, parking between the diner and a small motel that looked to be from the same era. Chuck and Joe had a short conversation outside the vehicle, and Chuck walked over to the motel. Libby muttered under her breath, “They are brave to stay in a place like that. Hope it looks better on the inside.”
She stepped out of the RV and locked the door. As she turned, Joe met her. “Hungry?”
Trying to cover her startled response, she quickly replied, “I could eat,” she smiled in return. He held his arm toward the diner and waited for her to proceed. She felt his hand gently touch her back, then blinked when the strong aura of whiskey caught her by surprise. She hadn’t noticed it before when they were together. Then she thought about the crazy man and it made sense that she wouldn’t have noticed it.
Suddenly visions of crashed vehicles, lights and sirens flashed in her mind as they walked toward the diner. Her father’s voice resonated in her ears, at first laughing, “Ah...that’s my Libby-girl...I love ya, Red, you’re the best.” The words echoed from a distant memory. Libby’s heart suddenly rose to her chest.
“I know this place doesn’t look like much, but the food is pretty good.” Joe’s words snapped Libby from her thoughts with a jolt.
If he noticed her jump, he didn’t show it as he opened the door to the diner, “In our line of work, you learn to appreciate food that tastes good, regardless of what the restaurant looks like. I’ve eaten in some swanky places where the food tasted like yesterday’s garbage, if it even had a taste at all.”
Large banners draped the wallspace above the row of stools against a bar, reading Home of the 2AM Hangover Medley: 2-bacon, 2-sausage, slice of ham, 2-eggs, hashbrowns, and tomato juice read one and another, Steak-n-Tater Special 24 hours. Libby nodded politely as Joe ushered her
As he heard her footsteps, he smiled and gestured to her to come on. He opened the propped door for her and both returned to the party. Joe and Chuck had the crowd dancing as Libby returned to her table. Shortly thereafter, she joined the crowd, dancing beside her table: the drunk and the broken lens were soon forgotten, although the throb in her finger lingered.
* * *
After the close of the show, Joe and Chuck graciously greeted fans, signed autographs, posed for pictures and answered questions. Libby waited at her table, but her resolve began to fade as she mentally questioned her agreement to stay. Her mind raced with reasons to stay…and to go. When most fans seemed satisfied, Chuck began breaking down his equipment, and Joe did whatever he could between fans. Both paused intermittently to pose as fans requested pictures. The impatient staff stepped in to lend a hand and soon everything was loaded back into the travel trailer.
Joe walked over to Libby’s table and asked, “Ready?” as if he was waiting on her . Libby laughed at the thought, then nodded as she rose. Her mind raced with indecision. The two went out the door as the bouncer followed behind. He stayed until they were safely in their vehicles, then closed the bar door.
Libby fired up the RV and pulled alongside the SUV, thinking she’d just offer an excuse now—then she could easily drive on to Laura’s. Joe leaned out the window, “Just follow us—it’s not far.” Before she could offer her excuse, Chuck gunned the SUV and pulled the dented trailer onto the deserted highway. Libby followed behind; fretting that she should’ve told him she needed to go.
“I could just keep driving,” she mumbled to herself. “I know, Mama…I wasn’t raised that way,” she snorted. “Okay, a quick meal, just be polite, and then I’m outta there,” she resolved.
They drove about five miles out of town and pulled into the parking lot of an old, 1950’s style diner. Both pulled through, parking between the diner and a small motel that looked to be from the same era. Chuck and Joe had a short conversation outside the vehicle, and Chuck walked over to the motel. Libby muttered under her breath, “They are brave to stay in a place like that. Hope it looks better on the inside.”
She stepped out of the RV and locked the door. As she turned, Joe met her. “Hungry?”
Trying to cover her startled response, she quickly replied, “I could eat,” she smiled in return. He held his arm toward the diner and waited for her to proceed. She felt his hand gently touch her back, then blinked when the strong aura of whiskey caught her by surprise. She hadn’t noticed it before when they were together. Then she thought about the crazy man and it made sense that she wouldn’t have noticed it.
Suddenly visions of crashed vehicles, lights and sirens flashed in her mind as they walked toward the diner. Her father’s voice resonated in her ears, at first laughing, “Ah...that’s my Libby-girl...I love ya, Red, you’re the best.” The words echoed from a distant memory. Libby’s heart suddenly rose to her chest.
“I know this place doesn’t look like much, but the food is pretty good.” Joe’s words snapped Libby from her thoughts with a jolt.
If he noticed her jump, he didn’t show it as he opened the door to the diner, “In our line of work, you learn to appreciate food that tastes good, regardless of what the restaurant looks like. I’ve eaten in some swanky places where the food tasted like yesterday’s garbage, if it even had a taste at all.”
Large banners draped the wallspace above the row of stools against a bar, reading Home of the 2AM Hangover Medley: 2-bacon, 2-sausage, slice of ham, 2-eggs, hashbrowns, and tomato juice read one and another, Steak-n-Tater Special 24 hours. Libby nodded politely as Joe ushered her
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