Hell, Yeah

by Carolyn Brown

  The tables and stools cleared out again when Kenny Rogers starting singing about knowing when to hold ’em, when to fold ’em, and when to walk away or when to run. Four long lines of people covered the dance floor in a line dance yelling “Fold ’em” with Kenny when he said the words.

  “That’s my brand new favorite song,” Larissa said.

  “How come?”

  “I’m learning that folding them isn’t such a bad thing. I’m beginning to think I was a winner when I thought I was the biggest loser in the whole world. We’ll talk about that later too,” she said.

  “What makes you think we’ll be friends and talk about anything other than beer and piña coladas?”

  “Hey, you want to dance?” Travis yelled the minute the song ended.

  The second he hollered a rare moment of silence filled the joint. His voice echoed in the stillness and everyone looked at him.

  “Which one of us you talkin’ to, cowboy?” A girl in a laced-up-the-front white blouse that dropped off her shoulders in an elasticized neckline sidled up to him and laid her hand on his thigh.

  “The bartender?” Travis blushed.

  “Are you talking to me? No thank you. I’d lose my job.” Larissa laughed.

  Someone plugged more quarters into the machine and Marty Robbins began singing about his wife. Dancers were stuck to each other and moving slowly on the packed floor. Travis was jealous. That’s the way he’d like to be hugged up to Cathy, not sitting across the bar from her with no possibility of anything but their hands touching.

  Cathy stopped in front of him to replenish the pretzel bowl. “Thanks for asking me to dance, but I don’t dance with customers or while I’m working. And even if I did, it’s too dang busy for me to leave the bar even for one song. But thanks anyway.”

  He reached for a handful of pretzels just to touch her fingertips. Hot vibes between them created something akin to a kid’s sparkler on the Fourth of July.

  Larissa touched Cathy on the arm. “What would it take to make that song your favorite song?”

  Cathy pulled her hand back from the pretzel bowl. “My song is Gretchen Wilson’s ‘Redneck Woman.’ You’re just now discovering country music and you think every one of them is written just for you, don’t you?”

  “Hell yeah!” Larissa smiled.

  “You’re getting into this, aren’t you?” Cathy asked.

  “Been listenin’ to country music all day while I cleaned up my yard. That storm shook every loose leaf from my trees. I’ve got enough of a pile to make a bonfire for a wiener roast. Listen to the song. What would it take to make you someone’s woman?”

  Cathy listened to the familiar words. “Guess he’d have to be willing to give me his share of heaven,” she said.

  “Well said, sister,” Larissa said.

  Travis was figuring out how a person made a deal to give up their share of heaven and when Angel tapped him on the shoulder he almost dumped his beer in his lap.

  She giggled. “I didn’t mean to cause a disaster, darlin’. Come dance with me until Garrett gets here. Oh, there he is. You’re off the hook.”

  Angel grabbed Garrett in the middle of a fast Jerry Lee Lewis tune and they danced not far from where Tinker had set up post. Garrett ran the tips of his fingers down her sides and she moved seductively against him.

  Cathy wished for a long breath of fresh, cold winter air. The blend of shaving lotion, perfume, smoke, and liquor mixed together was enough to singe a billy goat’s nose hairs. And watching Angel and Garrett with glazed eyes only for each other as they danced like they were the only two people in the whole Honky Tonk didn’t do a thing for the heat inside her body. She looked over at Travis to find him mouthing the words to “Hello Darlin’” with Conway Twitty. Travis’s blue eyes met hers over the bar when he sang about letting him kiss her and hold her in his arms one more time. She forgot about the fancied up bodies in the place and cigarette smoke hanging in the air and even Angel and Garrett. All she thought about was his kisses. She had to hold both her hands behind her to keep them from her mouth to see if it was as hot as it felt.

  “I need two pitchers of hurricanes and a single tequila sunrise,” Larissa hollered from the other end of the bar.

  Cathy blinked her way back from imagination kissing to bartending. She glanced back toward Travis. He smiled and held up his beer in a toast.

  Barbara Mandrell was the next jukebox star to sing. Another line dance formed with both men and women participating. Rocky was pretty damned agile and that didn’t surprise Cathy. But Bart did. She’d figured he’d be clumsy but he knew exactly when to kick back, two steps forward, kick forward, and twist and turn three times before starting again. He never missed a beat and looked like a ballerina the whole time he danced.

  Waylon Jennings sang “Luckenbach, Texas” next and kept the line dancers on the floor.

  Travis meandered over to the pool tables to talk to Garrett while Angel and Merle set up a game.

  “If we could change that to Mingus, Texas, instead of Luckenbach, it would describe me,” Larissa said.

  “You had never ever been in a bar before you walked in the Honky Tonk, had you?” Cathy wiped trays and stacked them up for the next run.

  “Not like this. Went to my share of nightclubs in New York City and Dallas and Houston and been to Vegas but not a honky tonk. Did it show that much?”

  “Yep, it did.”

  “That’s another long story,” Larissa said.

  “This your first experience with country music too?”

  Larissa nodded. “And my first time to drink beer and two-step.”

  “Mercy sakes, you ain’t been livin’. You just been existin’.” Cathy laughed.

  Travis listened to Garrett talk about Angus, but his eyes never left the bar. Cathy was beautiful when she smiled. Bits of her laughter floated across the smoke-filled room to his ears and sounded like harp music or maybe the tinkling of a Floyd Cramer piano. What had Larissa said that had brought it on, anyway?

  Larissa poured peanuts into the bowls on the bar. “You are right about living and existing. But I’m learning my way around this kind of life.”

  “What’ll you have, cowboy?” Cathy asked a rancher who was panting so hard from dancing that he couldn’t catch his breath.

  “Give me a bucket of Millers.”

  Cathy reached under the bar and set a galvanized milk bucket on the bar, slipped six bottles of cold Millers beer into it, and then shoveled in two big scoops of ice.

  He handed her a wad of crumpled bills. “Keep the change.”

  “Thanks.” She straightened the money and made change. What didn’t go into the cash register she handed to Larissa.

  “What’s this?”

  “Pay. Whatever tips come in this evening belong to you,” she said.

  “I’m not working for money,” she protested.

  “What are you working for?” Cathy asked.

  “Because you were too busy and it’s too crowded for me to dance. I’m not good enough to dance with that crowd,” Larissa said.

  “Me neither,” Travis said.

  “Where’d you come from?” Cathy asked.

  “Garrett and Angel have a table staked out soon as those two cowboys finish their game and they don’t want to lose it so I’m here to buy beers for them.”

  “Why aren’t you comfortable dancing with the crowd?” Larissa asked.

  “I just don’t like to get in the middle of that much movement.”

  “Darlin’, pretty as you are the women folks wouldn’t care if you were dancin’ standin’ straight up or layin’ down on your back. Hey, listen to this song.” Larissa pointed to the jukebox.

  Tanya Tucker was singing a song that asked if he would lay with her in a field of stone in her song.

  “Every single one of the songs has a meaning,” Larissa said. “Lord, I love this music. Why wasn’t I listening to it my whole life?”

  “Would you?” Travis’s eyes locked with Ca
thy’s.

  “Would I what?”

  “Listen to the words. Would you do that?”

  “I’m too damn busy to listen to the words of every song that plays on the jukebox. They’re just songs, Travis. I don’t look for hidden meanings in them. Go shoot some pool with Merle. She looks lonesome,” Cathy lied.

  Her pulse quickened and her mouth went so dry she wished she didn’t have a rule about not drinking while she was working. A shot of Jack to steady her hands would be very nice even if it did burn the hell out of her ulcer.

  Travis didn’t believe her. She was listening to the words. If he’d had to answer the question, he would have said yes, that he would lay with her in a field of stone at the base of a mountain or even in the sands of a desert with no water for miles and miles.

  Larissa set two beers in front of him. “I would lay with you in a field of stone, darlin’, but something tells me you done got your eyes on someone else to fill that position.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me and I won’t tell her,” Larissa said.

  “You got a deal.” He carefully toted the beers across the room to the pool tables where Garrett and Angel took time for a long drink before they picked up their cue sticks.

  Larissa filled two buckets and set up a dozen beers on two trays before she got a break. She touched Cathy on the arm and asked, “You got a thing for that cowboy, don’t you?”

  “Afraid so but I will get over it,” Cathy said.

  “Good luck,” Larissa said.

  “Hey, could we get some beers down here? I need a bucket of Coors.” A cowboy slid onto Travis’s vacated bar stool.

  Larissa set up a bucket. “You betcha.”

  “You’re a quick study,” Cathy told Larissa as she worked up three pitchers of margaritas.

  “That’s what they say,” Larissa said.

  “And who would they be?”

  “A story for a day when we’re not working our tails off. Not complainin’. This is more fun than I’ve had in years,” Larissa said.

  George Strait’s voice filled the joint with his song about pure love. Cathy looked across a sea of dancing and drinking people at Travis who raised his glass when Strait sang about it being pure love, milk, and honey and Captain Crunch and her in the morning. She remembered giving him the toaster pastries and a cup of coffee. Pop Tarts, coffee, and arguments were not sexy, so why was he remembering that it was?

  “Who is that man singing? God, I love this song. It’s just moved up the charts to be number one in my books,” Larissa said.

  “That is George Strait. Every song that’s played tonight has been your new favorite,” Cathy said.

  “Wait a minute. Who is this? Wow!” Larissa asked.

  “That’s Don Gibson.” Cathy made the mistake of looking over at Travis when Don sang about his sensuous woman. Travis raised his jar again and winked.

  She inhaled deeply and pretended she didn’t see the wink. She put a pitcher of Coors and six pint jars on a tray for one of the girls dressed in a black leather corset type top laced up both the front and back. It wasn’t easy to keep her eyes off him and on her work the next few minutes. She wanted to look back and see if he’d wink again, but she wouldn’t let herself get drawn into a flirting game while she was working.

  “This is one jumpin’ place. Love the old music. Is it like this every night?” The girl was asking but Cathy couldn’t remember what she was supposed to be saying or doing.

  “Just Mondays,” Larissa answered. “Rest of the week it’s just as jumpin’ but it’s the new country music. No rock or even alternative here. Just pure country like George just sang.”

  Cathy could have hugged Larissa. If she’d have had to speak or burn down the Honky Tonk after Travis’s wink, Tinker would have had to strike the match and watch her cry as the old place burned to nothing but a pile of ashes.

  “My crew will be back another night then. We love to line dance and two-step.”

  “Where y’all from?”

  “Breckenridge.”

  “Well, come on back down here. We’ll be right here.” Larissa gave her the change in quarters. “Three for a quarter tonight.”

  She pocketed the change. “I done put in a dollar but my songs aren’t up yet.”

  “Sorry about buttin’ in. You looked a little pale. What happened?” Larissa asked Cathy.

  “Nothing,” Cathy said.

  “Honey, only thing that makes a woman lose her ability to talk is a man. Either they make her so mad she can’t speak or else they do something that makes her think of the bedroom and she can’t say a word because her mind is in the gutter.”

  “You are so right.”

  Charley Rich started singing about his baby making him proud by never hanging all over him in a crowd but when they got behind closed doors she made him glad that he was a man. Cathy didn’t dare look at Travis for fear he’d wink or blow her a kiss.

  Several months before Daisy had complained that every blessed song on the jukebox reminded her of Jarod. During that time Cathy thought she was out of her mind in love or headed for the insane asylum, one or the other. That night Cathy knew exactly what she had been talking about. Everything a country music artist sang seemed like a Cupid’s arrow pointed straight for her heart. She found herself hoping that Travis would be in the oil field the rest of the week. That way there would be no excuse to get tangled up with him in the kitchen and wind up setting a wildfire in Palo Pinto County. Hopefully the songs on the new jukebox wouldn’t make her want to fall backwards on a big soft bed and drag that cowboy down on top of her.

  At midnight Travis set his empty jar on the bar and waved at Cathy before he weaved through the people and went home to his trailer. The Fort Worth girls whooped and hollered through one more line dance then disappeared past Tinker in a flurry of giggles.

  By one o’clock things had slowed down enough that Larissa asked Cathy to make her a martini. She carried it to the other side of the bar and sat down. “That was fun. Can I do it again? I made a hundred bucks in tips.”

  “Don’t know how I would have handled it without you. Thanks for helping me.”

  “Hey, want to shoot some eight ball when the doors are shut?” Larissa asked.

  “Not tonight. You any good?” Cathy asked.

  “Fair. Been tryin’ to get up enough nerve to ask Merle to play,” Larissa said.

  “Where’d you learn?”

  Larissa shrugged. “London. There was this earl who liked his billiards.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack, and he was fine looking especially behind closed doors. We played a few times in the nude. Hey, you heard that new song called ‘Skinny Dippin’’? I’m going to try that when summer gets here. By then I’ll have my own good looking cowboy to go with.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard it,” Cathy said. She didn’t say that she’d already imagined doing just that with Travis Henry. “Tell me, how did you go from an earl to Mingus, Texas?”

  “I have trouble staying in one place, with one thing, or with one man for very long. I get bored easy.”

  “Going to get bored with the Honky Tonk and Mingus in a few weeks?”

  Larissa sipped the martini. “Best martini I’ve ever had and that includes all of them. And I don’t know if I’ll get bored in Mingus or not. If I do I’ll be here three days past the boredom day.”

  “Three days?”

  Larissa’s eyes glittered. “Yes, it’ll take me that long to get a moving van in and to call Hayes Radner to sell my house to him.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “I might if I was bored. So you better not throw me out of the Honky Tonk.”

  “Don’t tease me about Hayes Radner. That man is evil with a bank account.”

  “Okay, okay. I won’t tease you about him. Who’s that singing?”

  “Emmylou Harris. And the song is ‘Two More Bottles of Wine,’” Cathy told her.


  “I’ve been there and done that. Like Emmylou says, I’ve got two more bottles of wine, only mine is two more beers.”

  “Hey, pretty lady, you want to dance?” Bart asked.

  “You one of Cathy’s oil men?”

  “I am.”

  “Married?”

  “Divorced.”

  “I’m not very good at dancin’ to this music but you look like you’d be a hell of a teacher.” She stood up and wrapped her arms around his neck and he two-stepped her right out into the middle of the floor.

  Dolly Parton sang about her man bringing her the sunshine when she was in darkness. Cathy had a soft place in her heart for that particular song. Her mother had loved it and had danced around the living room with her father every time it came on the radio and she could corner him in some part of the trailer.

  Larissa was panting when she claimed her seat again after half a dozen songs. “It’s time for this Cinderella to go home. I’ll be back tomorrow evening. Maybe I’ll make another hundred dollars in tips?”

  “If we’re as busy as we were tonight I’d love the help. I’d pay you if you’d agree to work for me.”

  Larissa shook her head emphatically. “I got a job and I sure don’t want to be tied down to anything. If I’m here and you are busy I’ll work for tips. If I want to dance with a good looking cowboy or oil man, then by golly I want to be free to do it. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Cathy said.

  At two o’clock Tinker sent the last dozen people home and Cathy locked up behind him. The Kendalls finished up the night with a song that said heaven was just a sin away. The singer said that way down deep inside she knew that it was all wrong but his eyes kept tempting her.

  “You got that right,” Cathy said.

  She wouldn’t even have to get the car out of the garage to find sin. The way Travis held up his drink and winked at her said that he’d be more than willing to help the devil take her to heaven any night of the week. All she had to do was walk across the backyard, knock on the door, and kiss him. Heaven would be waiting in his arms. Only trouble was come morning it would be hell to pay and she wasn’t willing for another broken heart.

  “Hey, did you see those two yahoos sitting over there in the shadows all evening. They had shifty eyes. One went to the bathroom and came back and then the other one went and they kept looking around like they were casing the place. Never drank a single beer or danced with anyone or watched a pool game. Mostly they watched you and Larissa,” Tinker said.