Try and Love Again

Kirk watched the other man's face as he listened to the first few words of the song by country legend George Strait.

"Everyday's a lifetime without you. Hard to get through, since you've been gone. So I do the only thing I know how to, to get by. I'm...livin' for the night."

"Oh, wow!" the man said as he turned it up.

He didn't say another word until it was over, and after turning it off, Kirk noticed the man's eyes were no longer dry.

"That stirred up a lot of sh...stuff for me," the manager said as he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. "My wife left me a few months ago, and I gotta tell you, I've been goin' through hell, so this really hits home."

"Mine passed away three years ago, so I understand," Kirk quietly replied.

"Geez. I'm really sorry. Here I am whining and crying about my woes, and yours are far worse than mine."

"It doesn't make yours any less real," Kirk told him sincerely.

The man looked right at him then said, "Can you be here this Friday?"

"Seriously?" Kirk asked, not sure he heard correctly.

"Yeah. I had a band in here last weekend that was so bad, I paid them not to come back on Saturday after they got booed off the stage on Friday. I had no idea who I could find, and then you walk in with this...solid gold sound."

"I don't know about that," Kirk replied modestly.

"If your other stuff is this good, I can assure you you'll be a big hit. And if you are, you'll be welcome to come back anytime. Just get some new material so you don't play the same thing week after week."

"Yeah. Sure. No problem. And thanks."

"Don't you want to talk money?"

"No. I don't care about the money. I just want to play."

The manager gave him a funny look then said, "I have to pay you."

"How about fifty bucks?" Kirk suggested.

He got another 'are you kidding me' look before the manager said, "Fifty bucks? Oh, hell yeah!" as he stuck his hand out, grateful to be paying 1/5 the normal nightly fee.

"You'll make more in tips than that. I can promise you that," the man told him.

Somehow he hadn't told Kirk his name yet, so when asked, the man said, "Jerry. Jerry Arot."

"Jerry. Thank you, and I'll be here Friday at..."

"The first set starts at 9pm. I'm here almost all the time, so if you need to set things up, get here as early as necessary. Oh. And before you leave, I'll show you what we have and where things are located in terms of outlets and what not. Otherwise, just show up, plug in, and do your thing."

As they got up, Jerry said, "And uh, if you're gonna play country, a cowboy hat wouldn't hurt—if you've got one."

Kirk laughed, said he didn't, but that he could probably find one in the next day or two even though many of his songs were pop or ballads.

When he left, Kirk was on top of the world. It had been ages since he'd played, but very little had changed, and he now knew exactly what he needed and how to set it up. The only thing he really needed, other than a ten-gallon hat, was a new amp, and he stopped at a music store on the way home and picked one up.

By the time Friday rolled around, he'd rehearsed his sets several times and although his fingertips were a little sore, he was getting some nice callouses in the same places he used to have them.

He rolled in around 8:15 and had everything ready to go within about 20 minutes as 'everything' wasn't a whole lot. Jerry followed him around just in case and kept telling Kirk how happy he was to have him there.

"Just one question."

"Shoot," Kirk replied as he did a quick sound check.

"I uh, I kinda thought you'd be wearing some old blue jeans. This is fine, but don't you think they'd work better with the cowboy hat?"

"Maybe, but I have a fairly wide range of songs. Don't worry, though, I'll make sure to wear the hat and say 'howdy' before I play anything country."

Kirk laughed but Jerry didn't see the humor. He was worried about money, and after the disaster from the previous weekend, he was rightly concerned about how his patrons would react to the new performer.

Rather than jeans Kirk wore a nice button-down gray shirt with long sleeves and a pair of black pants. Jerry didn't know how old the his new act was, but in the nicer clothes he looked five years younger than when he'd 'auditioned'.

"Okay. Well...knock 'em dead!" the owner said before getting off the stage.

"One question for you," Kirk called out before Jerry left.

"Uh-huh?"

"Am I introducing myself?"

"Oh, right! No. And that reminds me. Gimme a sec, would you?"

As promised, a few seconds later Jerry reappeared with someone who caught Kirk's eye the moment he saw her.

Whoever she was had on a very nice looking light-blue dress with three-inch black heels, and a gold necklace that matched the earrings he could see under her long, dark, nearly straight hair. She had beautiful blue eyes and an amazing smile along with a body to match. She seemed to old to be a coed but he was sure she couldn't be 30. Whatever age she was, she was somewhere between pretty and beautiful.

"Kirk? This is my niece, Aimee. Aimee Arot. Rhymes with 'carrot'."

The very attractive, much younger woman rolled her eyes then said hello.

"Hi, Aimee. I'm Kirk. Nelson."

"Hi, Kirk. It's a pleasure. My uncle says you're good. Really good."

"You'll have to be the judge of that, but it won't be long before you'll know. One way or the other."

The pretty 20-something smile at him then said, "I'll be introducing you, and it's pretty simple."

She explained how it worked, and Kirk told her he understood and thanked her for the insight.

Jerry excused himself then said, "Ten minutes people!"

Aimee rolled her eyes again then laughed when she saw Kirk smiling.

"I waited tables here all through high school then tended bar after I turned 21 in college. But here I am at 26 working as the floor manager because I was too dumb to ask whether or not a degree in philosophy was marketable."

"Ouch," Kirk said without judgment.

"Ouch indeed. Smart enough to graduate from college but not smart enough to ask the most basic question," Aimee said with a self-deprecating laugh Kirk loved.

Aimee smiled then said, "Live and learn, right?"

"I suppose what really matters is whether or not you enjoy what you're doing."

"It's okay. The money's better than I could make doing anything in my major which is pretty much nothing."

Kirk laughed again and Aimee asked how long he'd been singing.

"That's complicated."

She smiled then said, "If you weren't married, I'd ask you to tell me about it after the show."

Kirk didn't say anything but Aimee added, "For the record, I don't date married men. Ever."

It was said in a friendly way, and as she walked off the stage with just five minutes to go, Kirk found himself realizing she'd done something to him no other woman had done since before his wife died. With no one else around, he made a quick adjustment 'down there' and laughed when he thought about wishing he'd worn jeans for the heavier denim material.

Kirk hit the restroom and got back with less than a minute to spare. Aimee had returned and the moment she saw him said, "I was worried you got a case of cold feet."

"No. Just a case of...over-40 bladder."

She laughed then asked if he was ready.

"Ready or not, right?" Kirk said as he strapped on his guitar.

"Just stand beside me, and I'll do the rest, okay? Except the singing. You do all of that because I'm not so good at it!"

The curtain started coming up, and Kirk had a momentary pang of nervousness, but by the time it stopped moving, the anxiety was replaced with a sense of deja vu, and he told himself, "I can do this."

Aimee grabbed the mike and began introducing their guest. After saying his name, she said, "Ladies? Is this guy hot or what?"

There was a crescendo of calls that ranged from, "Hell, yeah!" to, "Woot, woot!" and a couple of others that made Kirk think about having groupies.

"So without further ado, I give you...Kirk Nelson!"

Kirk smiled, waved, then thanked everyone for being there.

"It's been a little while since the last time I played on stage, but I'm really looking forward to it. I hope you'll enjoy it as much I know I will."

With that, he turned around, plugged the guitar in, then let it rip.

The unmistakeable chords from a Mark Knopfler song called Money for Nothing shook the room and the crown went crazy. Men grabbed women while women grabbed men. A couple of women even grabbed other woman, and by the time he finished playing the opening riffs, the entire joint was rocking and rolling.

Kirk couldn't see Jerry or Aimee who had other, bigger fish to fry, but both of them had huge smiles on their faces as Jerry saw dollar signs and Aimee thought, "If he was single..."

When the last notes played, the applause and whistles were as loud as the music had been.

Feeling confident, Kirk played another oldie from the classic rock era called All Along the Watchtower by the late Jimi Hendrix. It was hard to make out faces to tell how old the people listening were, but whatever their ages, they were up again and 'getting down'.

"Thank you!" Kirk said after another huge round of applause. "We're gonna slow it down a little now, folks. So if you've been looking for a reason to get up close and personal with that special someone, here's your chance."

He picked up the cowboy hat then sat down on the stool on stage and started playing the song he'd sung for Jerry.

There wasn't any hooping or hollering, but the dance floor was full as he sang the sad song of lost love. He still couldn't see faces, but he could see dozens of couples dancing cheek to cheek and a few actually dancing around the floor.

He finished the remainder of the set then apologized for taking a short break but got another huge burst of applause for which he sincerely thanked them. He set the guitar down and headed off stage only to find Aimee there waiting for him.

"Wow," she said, a huge smile on her face.

"It was okay?" Kirk asked.

"Okay? Ha! Handsome and modest. If you weren't married..." she said with a little laugh.

Kirk had been smiling but stopped, and Aimee felt terrible and tried to apologize.

"Kirk. I didn't mean to offend you. I know my sense of humor isn't always the best, but I honestly didn't mean anything by that."

"No. It's...it's fine," he told her as he tried to force a smile while he walked on by in order to get something cold to drink without alcohol in it.

The second set was even better received as the clientele had a few more drinks in them, and Kirk continued mixing it up with hard, soft, country, and a Joan Baez ballad called The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down.

Aimee was crazy busy, but even so, she still felt terrible for whatever she'd said to either make Kirk angry or disgusted, and she promised herself she'd try and make it right when he finished.

She was dealing with a customer issue when Kirk said, "Ladies and gentlemen. This will be the last song for the night, so again, we're gonna slow things back down."

He paused then quietly said, "I lost my wife, Kellie, three years ago, and I honestly believed I'd never love again. But this song really hit me one day not that long ago, and it also served as the inspiration to quit my day job and get me back out here."

He smiled then said, "And who knows? Maybe with a little more time and some luck, even I might be able to try and love again one of these days."

Aimee gave up trying to solve the problem and told the man who was complaining his drinks were on the house. She didn't hear his response. All she heard was Kirk sharing the worst thing that had ever happened to him and feeling even worse now that she knew the truth.

And when he began singing, she found herself tearing up. But when he sang, "I'm gonna try and love again," she started crying. She cried because she'd been in love herself, and he was the only man she'd ever loved. In fact, she'd been so in love that when he asked her to marry him she'd said 'yes' without hesitation.

But with a little less than two months before her wedding, that man was killed while riding his motorcycle by a car driven by a man who said he never even saw the bike when he pulled out in front of it. His car's rear quarter panel was a mess, but he walked away without a scratch, but the motorcycle rider hadn't been so lucky.

That had been almost 18 months ago, and she, too, was finally ready to try and love again but was in no hurry to do so. But as she stood there listening to this very handsome, older man sing as though he were singing to her and her alone, tears streamed down her face.

"You okay?" she heard her uncle ask when he saw what was going on.

"Yes. I'm okay. It just really hit me."

Her uncle put a hand on her shoulder and told he understood.

"I...I should go clean myself up before Kirk finishes," she said, but found herself unable to move until the last note was played.

As Kirk bowed and thanked everyone again, Aimee made her way to the private restroom in the back and did her best to 'fix her face'. The puffy, bloodshot eyes were going to need some time, but at least the mascara streaks were gone.

She took a last look at herself, sighed, then turned around to try and find Kirk only to be accosted by someone who'd had a few too many.

"I saw you lookin' at me tonight, honey," the drunk, older man said as he tried to touch her hair.

"Sir! Do not touch me!" Aimee said as firmly as she could.

"Oh, come on now, baby! I'm not blind!"

When he reached out a second time, a hand appeared out of nowhere grabbing his wrist and turning it in a way that made the man scream as he fell to his knees.

"Can we call you a cab?" the man behind the hand asked.

Aimee realized it was Kirk, and when he looked at her she smiled as he effortlessly held the other man in check.

"Let go, asshole! You're hurting me!" the inebriated man yelled.

"Tell you what. You apologize and I'll let you go."

"Jesus! I'm sorry, okay?" the man whined as the pain in his wrist lessened then ended.

He was tempted to say that Jesus didn't need the apology but didn't. Kirk let go, helped the man up, then asked if he needed a cab.

"Yeah. That'd be nice," he slurred without looking at either Kirk or Aimee who called to someone to get him a ride.

As the drunk staggered away, Aimee looked up at Kirk and said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine. Mostly."

"Did he hit you?"

"No. It's...it's what I said earlier. To you."

She stared at him with a sympathetic look on her face and said, "Now I understand how I offended you, and I'm really sorry, Kirk."

"You didn't offend, Aimee. You caught me off guard a little, but you didn't offend me. At all."

"Promise?" she asked, relieved, and a small smile back on her face.

"I promise."

He went to excuse himself when Aimee said, "Kirk?"

He stopped and looked at her while waiting to see what she wanted to say.

"I was wondering if maybe you'd like to have that drink now. And...if you feel like talking..."

He knew she'd heard him but nevertheless said, "I take it you heard me mention my wife."

"I did, and I'm so sorry. And for what it's worth I cried through the entire song."

Kirk smiled then jokingly asked if it was really that bad.

"No! It...it was...wonderful."

"Thank you, and I'm sorry I made you cry."

"You didn't make me cry. Your voice is incredible! The song made me cry. Or rather the memories it evoked."

"I sense a tragedy in your life, too. Am I right?"

"If you'll let me buy you that drink, I'll tell you," she replied, an actual smile back on her very pretty face.

"Tell you what. If you'll let me use the restroom—again—I'd like that."

"I can probably wait that long," she told him in a very sweet-sounding voice.

"Then I'll be right back."

"Promise?" she said again just as sweetly.

He tipped the cowboy hat he was still wearing and said, "Yes, ma'am."

All of the patrons were gone by the time they sat down, and the silence was deafening. In fact, the only sounds were those of two people sweeping up and stacking chairs. Jerry stopped by to tell Kirk one more time what a huge hit he'd been and let him know he couldn't wait to see him play again.

Since it was now after midnight, he laughed and said, "Later today!"

Aimee said she agreed as she got their drinks which turned out to be cranberry juice for her and a diet Coke for Kirk.

"We can sit in my office if that's okay."

"Oh. Sure. That sounds fine."

The office was small but clean, and there was a love seat in front of Aimee's desk. She suggested they sit there and talk, so Kirk moved to one side as Aimee took the other.

"I just wanted to say again how much I enjoyed listening to you play, Kirk."

"Thank you. It's been long time, and I'd forgotten how much I enjoy it until tonight."

"May I ask how long?"

Kirk laughed then said, "Oh, about 20 years. Give or take."

"Oh my. Let's see. I was...seven years old then," Aimee said with a laugh of her own.

Kirk raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

"What?"

"I don't know. I was just thinking how I was 22 back then, so..."

"Hey. That was then and this is now," Aimee said as though she were schooling him but not in some kind of patronizing way.

It was said so pleasantly that Kirk laughed again and told her he agreed.

"May I ask about your wife?"

This question was asked gingerly, and Kirk appreciated that.

"Sure. Her name was Kellie, and I met her in a place like this. I was a little younger and I dressed a little different back then than I did tonight, but I was playing and she was sitting there listening and..."

Kirk smiled at the memory then looked at Aimee and said, "Looking at me. And smiling."

"Did you smile back?"

"All night long."

"Did you ask her out that first night?"

Kirk told her he did then spoke for maybe five minutes going over how they fell in love, their marriage, the years they had together, the huge change in their lives when he became a CPA, and finally, how he lost her."

When he finally looked back over at Aimee, she had tears in her eyes again, and Kirk apologized as though it was somehow his fault.

"No. It's fine. I just feel so bad for you."

"If you've lost someone, too, then you can empathize," he replied, sensing she had.

"I have and I can. Before that I could only sympathize, but after I lost my fiancé, I can empathize."

"I wish you weren't able to, Aimee," Kirk told her sincerely.

"Me, too," she said sweetly with a sense of resignation, knowing the past couldn't be changed or undone.

"Do you feel like telling me about it?"

Kirk's question was also carefully spoken, and while Aimee agreed to share her story, she warned him she wasn't as strong as him and might cry again.

"No worries. I lost track of how many times I cried that first year," Kirk quietly replied. "But it was a lot."

"I was only engaged, but you were married for all of those years. I...I really can't imagine."

Kirk didn't respond, he just turned her way a little, pulled one knee up on the small couch then waited.

Aimee essentially recounted the same things from how she met him—with 'him' being named Dennis—until the motorcycle accident. She teared up but didn't cry as she shared her own life's greatest tragedy.

"I was a little...wilder back then. I knew he rode a motorcycle from the day we met, and while I knew it was dangerous..."

"So was he, right?" Kirk asked with a knowing smile. "Dangerous, that is."

"Yes. Definitely. And SO handsome!"

"He'd have to be to attract someone as beautiful as you," Kirk told her with no hint of flirting.

"Thank you, and I'm guessing your wife was gorgeous for the same reason."

Kirk had a ton of photos of her on his phone, many of which he'd scanned into his computer after she died. The quality wasn't great, but it was good enough to show Aimee she was right when he handed her his phone after opening up Photos.