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Two-Bar Town

Audrey

When I got up on Sunday morning, I could smell breakfast cooking in the kitchen. Bacon, pancakes, orange juice, and who knew what else. Mom always liked to go big on Sunday morning breakfasts, and I was sure going to get big if I started eating like I used to. I’d never get back to dancing again. I really needed to talk to her about that.

I was surprised when I wandered into the kitchen, though. Mom beamed at me when she saw me, gesturing toward a plate. “I remembered when we were in Paris that you always ate those egg white omelets and fruit for breakfast,” she said.

I knew the omelet had probably been cooked in butter, but I was touched again by the effort that she was making, even though I had just shown up here out of the blue. “Thanks, Mom,” I said, sliding into my seat at the table across from where Annabelle was already seated.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Mom asked. “Better?”

I nodded, and in fact, I somehow was. I was getting used to the idea of being here, at least for a little while. I was more determined than ever to get back to Paris. Sooner, rather than later. But maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible to be back home for a little bit.

Except that then I would think about what I would be doing back home in Paris right now, if I were still there. And I would think about how this family had become something almost unfamiliar in my absence. They all seemed to belong here. Hell, even Clayton seemed to belong here more than I did as he strolled into the kitchen and gave Mom a long kiss before helping himself to coffee and taking a seat at the table.

“Your mom showed me some of your performances,” Clayton said as he took a bite of his toast. “I don’t know too much about dance, but my sister was a figure skater, and I can tell that some of those jumps that you do are pretty darn incredible.”

I blinked in surprise. Who would have thought that out of all the people in this town who even sort of understood my dancing, it would be Mom’s new boyfriend?

“Actually, I got to do a lot of traveling when I was younger, through hockey,” Clayton continued. “I don’t know if your mom told you, but I’m not from around here. I’m from Minnesota originally. Anyway, I didn’t get to do nearly the amount of travel that you’re lucky enough to do, but I think it’s really amazing what you get to do.”

“What made you move to North Carolina?” I asked in surprise.

Clayton laughed and shrugged. “You know, I tried living in Minneapolis for a while, but I decided the city life wasn’t for me. I read some article about where the best living conditions were for day laborers, and North Carolina was pretty high up there when it came to cost of living and flexibility with work and stuff like that. So I packed it all up in my trailer and came down. And it’s sure gorgeous out here.”

Annabelle giggled. “And you met Mom,” she reminded him. “That helps, doesn’t it?”

“Sure does,” Clayton said, reaching over to take Mom’s hand as she sat down with us at the kitchen table for breakfast, putting a steaming platter of bacon in the middle of the table for everyone to help themselves to.

For a moment, my mouth watered. God, it had been so long since I had had bacon. Surely, one strip wouldn’t kill me. But I knew just how much fat there was in that. I would have to work out for a while just to burn it off, and it would probably leave me feeling like shit anyway. It wasn’t worth whatever momentary pleasure I would get out of it.

Especially since I couldn’t train very hard at the moment. I still hadn’t managed to figure out how I was going to train here. I was used to having a state-of-the-art gym to work out in back in Paris, plus fitness trainers and the whole bit. Here, I’d be lucky if the twenty-four-hour gym three towns over was still in business, and even if they were, I doubted they’d updated their equipment any time in the last two decades.

“What are you up to today?” Mom asked Annabelle.

“I’m at the bookstore all day. Remember, we’ve got that reading this afternoon with the author who wrote up all the local North Carolina myths. And then tonight, I’m on the long shift at the bar.” She looked over at me. “Sorry, I was hoping I could get some time off today so that I could hang out with you, but it’s just one of those days. They need me. You should come by the bar tonight, though.”

“Finnegan’s?” I asked, surprised to hear that she was working there. That place had been skeevy as hell when I left. Surely, that hadn’t changed.

Annabelle laughed and shook her head, though. “Believe it or not, this town is big enough to warrant two bars now. Finnegan’s is still your classic drunken shithole, albeit with slightly better lighting and no smoking these days. Floor is still pretty sticky, though.” She grinned. “But I’m over at the new place, Gabby’s. Sunday nights are good fun. Drinks are half-priced, and there’s dancing.”

I made a face. I could only imagine what passed for fun here. It might not be Finnegan’s, but I was sure it would be all the same people as there were there. This town might be bigger than it had been when I left, but it was still a tiny town in the middle of nowhere in North Carolina.

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Jane Murr
Aberdeen is not that bad!
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