Look at You

Chapter 57

57

I wake up to a text from Callie. Did you know Finn got another gig at O'Malley's?

I sit up quickly. when

It's 8 a.m. on a Saturday, but she's an early riser. She's probably already in her Pilates outfit and sipping her morning electrolytes. Tonight.

I call her immediately.

"I have a maybe crazy idea," I say, because a man doesn't kick a streetlight at midnight for you unless he still loves you. Or at the bare minimum, is willing to listen to you make a fool of yourself trying to win him back.

"Shoot."

"It's a grand gesture."

"I'm listening..."

"At O'Malley's."

"Okay..."

"His favorite place that he hates."

"Ok, Si, get on with it."

"He'll be there tonight. Because Finn's playing."

"And?"

"I tell him."

"Babe, you've tried that. Twice now. What makes Saturday night at O'Malley's different?" She's not being rude. She's curious.

"Because this time I'm going to make him listen."

__

I call Craig next.

"I can't give you access to a microphone, Simon."

"And why the hell not?"

"You want a mic, talk to Finn. It's his night."

"Ok," I nod. "Ok."

Right as I'm about to hang up, Craig bites. "Alright. What are you planning?"

"It's like you said," I'm suddenly giddy. "It's time he has better memories there."

Five minutes later, Finn's answering my siren call in that deep, southern, rain-on-a-tin-roof drawl.

"Hello?"

"Hi Finn. It's Simon Love."

He is silent. I rush to fill this space because giddiness has turned to despair inside me and clearly this was a terrible idea. "Cameron Lewis's friend. He brought me to the—uh—the show you did. Out in Mayfield. At the Rose bar. I think that's what it was called. Yeah. Anyway. It's me, Simon."

A couple more beats of silence. I want to scream into it. "Of course I know who you are," you can tell he wants to laugh at me. "What can I do for ya?"

This phone call has hardly been a minute, but I already want it to be over. So I cut straight to the chase. "You know Cam and I were dating, right?"

I can count to three twice before he responds. "Emily thought as much."

I take a deep breath. I can work with that. I decide to go with the same approach I took with Craig. "Well, I fucked up, Finn."

"Everyone fucks up."

"I fucked up badly. And I need to borrow a microphone from you tonight so I can tell him in front of all our friends, family, and colleagues that I love him." Before the words even come out of my mouth, I can hear him laughing. I can hear him saying Cameron would hate that. Because he would. And I most certainly will hate it too. But there's really only one more chance for me to right this thing. One more chance for me to make him listen.

But Finn doesn't laugh. "Don't you play the keys?"

I've told him this before—or Cam has—at the concert or his last gig at O'Malley's. "Yeah," I say. I don't like where this is going.

"I don't just give out mics for free if you know what I'm saying."

"Aw come on, Finn," because FUCK NO am I playing piano at O'Malley's on a Saturday night.

"Oh come on. Just one song."

I wince. "Just one?"

"I'll even let you give me some suggestions."

I didn't grow up playing Blake Shelton in my classical piano lessons, so I don't even know where to begin. Nothing I play fits into his register.

"Shit man. I can't—I don't know how to play your stuff. Just—I'll do an intro. Or an outro to one of your songs."

"Alright, which one?"

I pick over my mind. I try and conjure up a single line of anything I've heard him play. The only thing I can come up with is, "That wood-chopping song."

"Sing me a bar."

I clear my throat. "Jesus Christ, okay."

"So girl leave your boots by the bed, we ain't leaving this room... It's cold in this house and I ain't going out to chop wood... I won't leave this bed till somebody needs medical help or the magnolias bloom..." I blow air past my lips. "Something like that."

"Jason Isbell," Finn clarifies. "Good choice."

"So you'll do it?"

"I think you mean you'll do it."

"Okay. Intro? Outro?"

"Let's call it an intro. Come up with something soft and melodic. It's a love song."

"I know it's a love song."

"And then you can have the mic."

"Thank you."

"Three minutes."

"Okay."

"We start at 7:30."

"Sure."

"You'll play Isbell with me at 8:30."

"Okay."

"And make sure your boy is there. I haven't heard from him."

"Shit. Okay." I'm already pulling the phone away from my ear to text Callie.

"Alright Love. 8:30."

"Thank you, Finn. Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me yet," he says, and then hangs up the phone.

I get in the shower and dress quickly. I drive straight to my parents' house and lock myself in with the piano until further notice.