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“I think there could be.”
I know we’re talking about a song, but in the back of my mind I can’t help but wonder if maybe there’s something happening between us and if there’s enough for a deeper relationship with Paisley.
Track 15
It Makes Me Wonder
Paisley
November 21
The past week has been a blur.
I’ve been juggling farmwork with songwriting, and it feels like I’m constantly getting pulled in a million different directions. Kash and customers and refrains and receipts. On repeat. It’s a good thing there are so many kids visiting the farm lately, or I’d worry that Dunder and Blixem might suffer from lack of attention.
The second song for Kash’s demo is taking more time to work out than our first co-writing attempt did. Thankfully, we still have about six weeks to finish the remaining five songs. Every morning, we meet up in the loft to spend a few hours working. Part of the reason it’s taking so long is because we can’t quite figure out what the song should be about. We have everything sorted but the lyrics. Another part of it is that I’m finding it hard to focus on the task at hand whenever Kash is nearby. I should be thinking more about whether we should use a broken chord in the reprise than how Kash’s calloused fingers feel when they happen to brush over my skin. Which seems to be happening more frequently lately.
As much as I hate to admit it, I think I’ve developed a crush on Kash Murray.
Turns out, he’s not so bad after all. Aside from our first few interactions, he’s been respectful and kind. He makes me laugh. And he’s not hard to look at. Just thinking about the way his piercing eyes study me has my pulse dancing.
I flip my lyric notebook closed (because Kash has also inspired me to start writing my own stuff again) and slide it back onto the shelf. I head downstairs and slip outside, taking a moment to enjoy the quiet calm of the morning. In a few hours, Hidden Acres will be a flurry of activity. It’s the only Saturday between Halloween and Christmas that we’re closed to the public for our annual Morgan family holiday hoedown.
I head over to the large barn, where the gathering will be held, and pull open the whitewashed barn door. Dad repainted it a few weeks ago, and the fresh white pops against the barn’s red siding.
Sun filters in from the windows, and there’s a church-like echo in the giant, empty room. Soon, Mom, Dad, and Halley will arrive to start setting up. Mom’s already in the kitchen working on prepping the turkeys: one for the oven and one for the grill.
In this rare moment of solitude, the silence calls to me. I take a deep breath, and for the first time in months, I allow myself to take up space when I sing.
Dad and I are setting up the banquet tables when Halley strolls in.
“Morning, fam. Happy hoedown day! Who wants fresh apple cider doughnuts?” She sets down a bakery box and bustles over to give us each a bear hug.
Dad kisses the top of her head.
“I’ve missed you,” I say when it’s my turn to squeeze her extra tight.
I haven’t seen her in person since she dropped by with a box of emergency chocolates for me in May. She’s got a summer farm tan and blond highlights, but otherwise she hasn’t changed much. She inherited Dad’s light brown hair and hazel eyes, but we have the same smile and button nose. There’s no mistaking we’re sisters.
Halley gives me a playful squeeze. “Apparently, I’ve missed a lot.” She drops her voice to a low murmur and whispers in my ear, “What’s this about a boy you’ve been spending time with? Mom told me that you two are as thick as thieves.”
“It’s not like that,” I whisper back, but there’s no hiding the heat that rushes to my face.
Halley steps back and flips open the bakery box. She grabs two doughnuts and hands me one. “I can’t wait to meet him.”
“Stop it,” I say, smacking her arm. “He’s here to work on a demo. The label asked me to help.”
“Sure,” she says with a glint in her eye.
How is it that you can love someone and hate them so much at the same time?
“Don’t worry,” she says, bumping her hip against mine. “I’ll play nice.”
“You better,” I warn. Not that there’s much I can do about it if she doesn’t.
Mom formally invited Kash to the party and he actually filled out the RSVP card, so it’s inevitable that he and Halley will meet sometime today.
We’ve finished getting the tables and chairs set up and are about to get started assembling the stage when I look up to find Kash standing at the door, a shadowy silhouette against the bright daylight behind him. As usual, he’s dressed in his signature dark T-shirt, but instead of his standard choice of fitted black pants, he’s opted for some relaxed-fit faded blue jeans. Some days he wears a cowboy hat, but today he has a black baseball cap with gold letters pulled down low over his brow. Turns out, Kash makes the boy-next-door aesthetic look good.
