Dolly (Part three-Max Mitchell series)

THIRTEEN

"Thank god! Now we can have the old Max back." my sister yelled sarcastically to us from the porch, as Tom and I walked up the driveway.
"How did you know to look for me there?" I asked Tom, stopping our stroll at the bottom of the porch steps.
"Your dad told me that the pink Cadillac was your favorite. He said you liked to hide under it."
His response made me smile, and I gave him a big bear hug, just happy to be near him again.

"Well, now that you've gotten that out of your systems, shall we go out?" Tab gave Tom and I a pointed look.
"Ooooh, I'd love to see what Alliance's night life has to offer." Tom rubbed his palms together, to which I dramatically rolled my eyes.
"There's karaoke at the Saddle Club...Max's favorite."
I let them have another groan.
"Come on, Dolly. It'll be a gas."
"Famous last words, Thomas." I said, and gave him a gentle poke in the ribs.

***

"Here I am, on the road again. There I am, on the stage. There I go, playin the star again. There I go...turn the page."

The Saddle Club on a Friday night is about as lively as Alliance gets. By lively I mean there was about fifteen people there, maybe twenty. I think the only thing that had changed since my twenty first birthday (which was the last time I'd been there, mind you) was that patrons couldn't smoke inside anymore, thank god. The place was dimly lit, with booths made of red pleather and they still had the same brown, tattered bar stools lined up along a gouged and dark wood bar, as there always was.

Wendy was born and raised in New York, so for her, my hometown may as well have been on another planet. She was stunned to silence, taking in her surroundings.
"I'll go get us a round." Tom said, as he went to the bar and left us to find a place to sit, which certainly wasn't difficult. After about five minutes, he returned with a mile wide grin.
"What's gotten into you?"
"The lot of it was less than twenty dollars! Can you believe that?"
"Believe it. Welcome to Nebraska." I said, as I took a hefty swig from my bottle of beer.

After a couple of hours, and a few rounds, our group was well on their way to drunk. Considering I'd just recently had a bullet surgically removed from my liver, I thought I'd give the old girl a rest and be a sober cab for them. Tom, however was rather excited about the cheap alcohol at the Saddle Club and paid for ever drink, every time. I decided to test the amount of liquid courage in his system.
"Tom, why don't you go sing a song?"
"Yeah? Want me to?"
"Oh yes. I definitely do."
"Alright then, Miss Mitchell. I'll sing, if you go first."
"That's a deal I'm willing to take." I was sober, and I was one hundred percent certain I could find a karaoke version of something I'd written, if I really needed to. I went to the host and handed her a little slip with my song selection written on it, per status quo. I scooted back into the booth with a smug smile on my face.
"Your turn, Mister Hiddleston."
"It's on, baby."
Silly, tipsy Thomas. He eagerly scribbled something on his slip and handed it to the host.

After a beat, the woman called out for me to sing and the three soaks I was sitting with screamed and hollered like a pack of chimpanzees. I cleared my throat a little, gave the microphone a little tap-tap, and a squeal erupted from the speakers, causing everyone to groan and cover their ears.

I sang everyone's favorite 'Top Gun' anthem, "Take My Breath Away". I even got some bar flies to get off of their perches to have a dance. I'd also noticed that the bar had filled up a little bit. When I returned to the table, feeling rather proud, I noticed a look on Tom's face that was either stage fright, or he was going to barf. He kissed me on the cheek and whispered that he thought I'd be a really tough act to follow.
"You asked for it, Sugar." I winked and gave him a kiss. When he stood up, I also gave him a little pinch on the rear, for good luck of course.

"I'm going to sing this for my wonderful girlfriend Max, because she asked me to. I'm just warning you though, she's a far better singer than me."
"Shut up and sing, Tommy Boy!" Tab hollered out from the table, to which he grinned like the Cheshire Cat.