Lucy Kilgore; the last one? This is #8.

How Do I Live Without You?

My head’s not on straight, nor is my hat. At least, my hat I can adjust and do. I blow a deep breath out through my lips and square my shoulders and try to remember that I’m Lucy…no, wrong, Lacey Cantrell. I am Lacey and even if Cal is sitting out there gloating over the fact that he just kissed the hell out of me, I can sing as Lacey.

When the regulars see me emerge from the back hall, they clap and whistle and that ought to be enough to get my adrenalin going. I grin at them.

“Sorry ‘bout that. I heard a rumor that Tom Hardy was running down the back alley and I had to go check it out,” I say. “Just in case you’re interested, he wasn’t. It was the Bacardi guy delivering rum. Bummer.”

They laugh and I feel good. I sneak a look at Cal and he’s smiling and that makes me feel better. I am under no illusions here. We are not 100%, but something tells me that if we still love each other like this after three years apart, that maybe we have something that was never meant to die. I don’t know, but maybe we’ll test the waters and find out. The one thing that’s for sure is that I’m going to continue to be Lacey Cantrell and one day, who knows, maybe Lacey will let Lucy out and I’ll be able to play as me, which sounds like a mighty big step.

I pick up my guitar and strum a G chord followed by an Em. I glance at the paper with my set list on it and take one last look at Cal before changing my song.

Then I play.

end 6/22/2017

Sascha Darlington