the Red Door Saloon tonight.
Today was exhausting, from start to finish, but there is no way I can miss out on a night at the Red Door Saloon. I practically grew up in this bar. My father brought me here every weekend once I learned how to play the guitar so I could mess around with the band and get a feel for playing with other people and see how I liked it. June is like a second mother to me. Oh, who in the hell am I kidding? She’s like the only mother to me. She always made me homemade cherry cokes with real cherry syrup when I came in, and she’d grab me a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos from behind the counter to go with my Coke, even when my dad would tell me it would spoil my dinner.
I've kept in touch with her over the years, and whenever I come home, I always make it a point to stop by and see her. The bar is the epitome of a dive. It’s a hole in the wall with peeling paint and sticky floors, and if you order anything aside from Jim, Jack, Jose, or beer, you’ll get your ass tossed out on the sidewalk. My favorite part about this place is that it’s filled with regulars who have been coming here since the bar opened. They still listen to their music on 45’s, and if you ask them if they downloaded your latest song from iTunes they’ll reply, “What do you want me to tune?”
It’s the one place in the entire world I can go and not be recognized. They don’t care who I am as long as I thank the bartender and leave behind a tip. To them, I’m just another tourist stepping off of Broadway to get a feel for the real Nashville, and that is perfectly fine with me.
“Baby girl! I was hoping I’d see you here tonight!”
June, my long time friend and the owner of the establishment, shouts across the noise of talking patrons as she makes her way down to the stool I’m perched on at the corner of the bar.
“You know I wouldn’t miss a visit to the Red Door, June!” I smile brightly at her. “Thanks for stopping by the signing earlier. Sorry we didn’t have a lot of time to talk.”
June flings a white bar towel over one shoulder, quickly fixes me a cherry coke, and after setting the drink down in front of me, reaches across the bar to take both of my hands in hers.
“Nonsense, baby girl. I knew you’d be too busy to spend more than a few minutes with an old lady like me. I just wanted to see you in your element. I like watching you do things like that.” Her words are genuine as she smiles softly. “So, where’s Finn at this evening? He’s usually attached to your hip.”
I let out a deep sigh and glance behind me, my eyes finding Finn at a table by himself near the jukebox. We haven’t said one word to each other since the smack heard around the world this morning. We’ve never fought in all the years we’ve known each other, except for a few stupid little squabbles over nothing that were quickly forgotten within minutes. Regardless of our personal life, he’s still my bodyguard, and he has to be with me wherever I go, even if he won’t look at me or say a word. He knew without even asking that this is where I would go tonight, and when I got home after the meet-and-greet and changed into more comfortable clothes, he picked up his keys, walked out the door without a word, started up the car, and waited for me to get in. The ride here was long, quiet, and uncomfortable. I'm glad to be inside the noisy bar and not have to feel bad about us not speaking and how strange it feels.
“Finn is back in the corner making himself scarce,” I tell her with a smile that I don’t really feel as I lift the glass to my lips and chug the carbonated sweet drink that tastes like home. I love June but I don’t feel like getting into the whole Finn thing with her at the moment. I just want to do what I came here to do, what I always do: relax and enjoy being in the one place that truly makes me happy.
“I’m sure there’s a hell