Her nose was wrinkled, and she had a perplexed look on her face.
“Maybe it’s because I’m a hillbilly, but I hate this music. It’s like being in a maze, or in one of those little hamster wheels, where you just keep spinning and spinning, and you never get anywhere.” She had to shout at him in order for him to hear her, and he ended up moving to sit by her side instead of across from her, so that they could speak into each other’s ears.
Finn wouldn’t have minded it so much had he not been listening to Bonnie sing for the last week. Bonnie’s songs were anything but a hamster wheel. She told stories and revealed secrets, and made him believe she sang just for him. He had a feeling that’s how everyone felt when they listened to her songs. That’s why she was Bonnie Rae Shelby.
He told her this, his mouth pressed to her ear, and she smiled up at him when he finished and then leaned toward him to respond.
“But Finn—I was singing to you. I just hadn’t found you yet. Don’t you see? From now on, every song will be yours.”
Her words were too sweet. Corny even. But she said them with such conviction, her hand against his opposite cheek, holding his face as she spoke into his ear, that he was moved by her words anyway. In spite of himself. He’d heard her yell into the wind, telling him she loved him too, but he’d been too upset with her to let himself believe anything she’d said in the heat of the moment. He didn’t know if Bonnie really loved him. He knew she liked him. He knew she was infatuated with him. He knew she was sad and lonely and lost. And because she was all those things, she needed him. For now.
He kissed her forehead and finished his meal in silence, feeling her eyes linger on his face, knowing he was confusing her, but not knowing how to explain himself without prompting more professions of love and devotion that he wouldn’t be able to believe. When the band took a ten-minute break, Finn eased himself from their booth to search out the men’s room and a chance to clear his head. Bonnie said she didn’t need to go, and that she would wait for him there.
He should have known he couldn’t leave her alone. Not even for five minutes. When he returned to their booth, she wasn’t there. He spun around, his eyes searching through the poorly lit space, wondering if she’d changed her mind about the bathroom, when he saw her.
She was on the stage. She stood beneath the lights on the little platform that had been vacated by the jumping trio and their drummer, so totally opposite of Bonnie Rae in every way, only a few minutes before. All four of them were sitting at a table nearby, clearly cool with her entertaining their audience while they took a breather. One even raised his glass, as if to say, “Have at it.”
“Shit! Bonnie Rae!” he hissed, trying not to draw attention to himself as he eased toward the stage, anxious and furious and stunned that she would pull such a stunt. She had slung the fat one’s electric guitar over her slim shoulders and was fingering the strings like she was as comfortable on the stage as she had been in his Blazer, her feet on the dash, her eyes on his face. She plugged it back into the amp nearby and leaned forward.
“Hey.” Her mouth kissed the mic as she breathed her greeting, and the crowd instantly quieted. Vocal magic. He’d witnessed it before.
“Y’all don’t care if I sing you a little somethin’, do ya?”
Her arms were slim and golden, toned and taut, her cap of dark hair sleek and shining under the flickering strobe that obscured her features and shadowed her face in half-light. He didn’t think anyone would realize they were about to be serenaded by an international superstar. Nobody would guess how many miles she’d come, or that she hadn’t prepared to sing or be seen. But she was up there doing both, just for the pleasure of doing her thing. Her snug jeans, cow-girl boots, and tight blank tank looked very natural on stage, and Finn fought the urge to swing her into his arms and run into the night, keeping her safe, keeping her hidden, keeping her close.
“It’s just somethin’ I’ve been thinking about,” she said, as if she were talking to her best friend. The electric guitar was a little at odds with her down home style, but she kept it simple as she began to play, her fingers plucking effortlessly at unfamiliar strings, picking out a tune Finn instantly recognized as the one she’d been humming last night. The one he’d asked her to sing. Seems she was granting his request. And then her eyes found his.
I cannot describe
Or explain the speed of light
Or what makes thunder roll across the sky
And I could never theorize about the universe’s size
Or explain why some men live and some men die
Her voice filled the space so effortlessly that Finn felt a shot of fear, certain she’d be rushed by fans who recognized her signature sound, that she’d be swept off the stage in a deluge of frenetic humanity. But everyone was listening, a few couples dancing, and Bonnie Rae kept singing, pondering out loud the things she didn’t know.
I can’t even guess
I would never profess
To know why you are here with me
And I cannot comprehend
How numbers have no end,
The things you understand, I can’t conceive
Infinity + One
Is still infinity.
And no matter how I try
I’m bound by gravity.
But the things I thought I knew
Changed the minute I met you.
It seems I’m weightless
and I’m endless after all.
Finn felt heat and heartache rise in his throat as Bonnie threw back her head, singing a song that could only be for him. And the audience moaned with her as she climbed an entirely different kind of bridge.