Back To U - By Kathy Dunnehoff Page 0,3

the glass back down on the tablecloth. It amazed her that Missy was smiling. When was the last time she’d seen that?

"You know Austin’s band?"

Gwen remembered hearing them at the high school talent show, but even with Missy singing lead, they hadn’t had a chance at winning. It was unlikely that Austin would parlay his video game guitar skills into a professional career. She nodded carefully to avoid saying anything like that out loud or having a yes come out as a squeak or a sob or something like begging.

"He inspires me." Missy buttered the cornbread, shook the honey bear, and ran swirl after swirl over the bread until Gwen felt her head might pop off the building tension in her neck. "Then there’s Makayla S., Makayla B, you don’t know her, I don’t think. In select choir she was the girl in the third riser just over from the left, sang alto, remember?"

Gwen shook her head, lips pursed, and felt her hands lose their blood flow from her grip on the tablecloth.

"Oh, and you know Katy? Well, we’re a band now and completely great. Austin knows this guy in Cheney, Washington who completely got us a gig at his club. Tuesday nights. It’s ladies night and pretty much one of the busiest nights for them. We’ll waitress a little. Just the dinner shifts and then Tuesday night the stage is ours."

Missy had a dorm room and a college fund and…"you’re going to be a waitress?"

"I’m in the first All Female Lynard Skynard Tribute Band. It was Austin’s brilliant thing, and he’s our manager. Nobody’s ever done it before. Can you believe that? I loved that Alabama song the first time I heard it in that movie, and now we know enough for a set, eight, and we’re going to work on that smell one."

Gwen blinked, but her eyes felt too dry now like there’d been a run on the bank and her tear ducts were out of business. "That smell one?" She looked around the dining room, heard Missy stumbling over lyrics that included lots of ooohs and smell that smell. There was some death buried in the chorus. Hey, she might not be entirely lost if she could think up a pun. Death buried. It was probably a pun. Close. Maybe she could think up better dinner conversation next, like how great college was going to be. But Missy chatted on with more energy than she'd in months, and nothing could stop her.

"We’re leaving tomorrow. Katy’s got a van. Not hers so much as Derek’s, but he’s really great. We’ve loaded up the amps. Austin’s cousin sold them to me."

"You bought amps?"

"I completely knew that graduation money from Grandma was going to be super useful, and it was."

"It was--"

"Mom." Missy reached across the table, and Gwen felt pressure on the back of her hand as it disappeared under Missy’s. When had her hand gotten so small? She released the tablecloth and wanted to grip her daughter and never let go.

"Mom, don’t go crazy. I’m fine and doing what I’m supposed to do."

Missy was going to sing eight songs… one great one, one or two pretty good ones, and the rest with smell eighty-six times in the chorus at a bar specializing in buck well drinks to get single women out so single and cheating men could get laid on a Tuesday. And that was her daughter’s destiny? Gwen wished she hadn’t used up a lifetime of tears already. She could sprinkle some into the disaster of a dinner.

"Mom, I think you should maybe eat something." Missy removed her hand and took her bowl to the kitchen.

Gwen heard the water run in the sink, the dishwasher open and close. "I taught her that."

Missy came back, awkward in the doorway as if ready to run. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Well, I’m gonna…"

Gwen shook her head. She needed help, someone to stand beside her and present a unified front against total insanity. "What did your father say?"

Missy shrugged. "I haven’t seen him for a while."

He wouldn't have missed a single day of work at the insurance agency, and Missy was living at the condo he'd moved his things into. "Where has he been?"

"Home, I guess."

Hearing Missy say so casually that Steve had another home might have been the worst blow of the evening any other night, but Gwen felt pleased it barely registered as a punch to the gut. When she realized Missy hadn’t been with either of her parents, her heart raced and her

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