“Uh-huh. I’m right over there.” Reg pointed at a tiny house. “I’m on the right side, and my landlord and his wife are on the left.”
At first the description didn’t make sense, but when they got closer, Jeremy noticed two front doors and realized the small house was actually a duplex.
“Why’d you move back here after college?” Jeremy asked, hoping the question didn’t come off as judgmental but wanting to understand why someone as vibrant and personable as Reg had decided to settle down in a nothing town. “I mean, I know you said your mother and your brother are still here, but Phoenix is close, right? You could live there and see them all the time.”
“Yup. But it costs more to live there, and I wanted to save up, so I came home.” He unlocked his door and stepped aside, letting Jeremy walk into the house first.
The inside looked like the outside: dated, flat, and nothing to write home about. Reg had told him he’d gotten his degree in accounting. That had to pay more than whatever he made tending bar in an all-but-empty dive.
“But you could probably find a job in your field if you lived in a bigger city. Then you’d make more so you could save more.”
“I tried that.” Reg followed him inside and kicked the door closed. “I worked at one of the big accounting firms after graduation.” He walked over to the fridge wedged into the corner of the room that served as the kitchen. “I didn’t last there two years.”
“Why not? You seem pretty smart.”
“Summa cum laude,” Reg said as he pulled out a couple of beers.
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” Chuckling, Reg knocked the beer caps off by slamming them against the side of the counter, and then stepped over to Jeremy, holding one out. “I left accounting because I’m not a morning person, and being holed up in an office all day fucking killed me.” He tilted his bottle against his lips and took a long swallow. “So I ran back home with my tail between my legs, got a job at the bar, and started saving up so I can go backpacking somewhere. That was a year and a half ago. I figure in another few years I’ll have enough to take off for a while and wander.” He flopped onto his couch, making the springs squeak.
“Where do you want to go?” Jeremy flicked his gaze around the room, settled it on a brown plaid armchair across from the couch, and stepped over to it.
“I don’t know yet,” Reg said with a shrug. “Alaska, maybe. I’ve heard it’s cool, lots of great hiking. I’ve got time to figure it out.”
Jeremy sank onto the chair and took a pull of his beer. “This is good.”
“Yup. Their IPA’s awesome too. I have some in the fridge when you’re ready for another bottle.”
He looked at the label. “Four Peaks? Haven’t heard of it.”
“They’re local, out of Tempe.” Reg ran his thumb over the top of the longneck. “How about you?”
“How about me what?”
“Do you like what you do?”
“Most of it,” Jeremy said honestly, settling into the chair and stretching his legs out. “The music part, I love.”
“You’re a musician,” Reg pointed out. “Isn’t all of it the music part?”
“Nah.” Jeremy shook his head. “I mean, the music comes first, yeah? But there’s also all the publicity crap. Interviews, events, photographers everywhere.” He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It sucks.”
“Not a people person, huh?” Reg said, the sideways grin that was starting to look familiar making a welcome appearance.
There was no denying it. “I’m really, really not.”
“I was kidding, man.” Reg dropped his head against the back of the couch. “You’re totally cool.”
“Cool, yes,” Jeremy agreed. He held the neck of the bottle between his pointer finger and his thumb and swung it from side to side, watching the remaining liquid slosh. “But as a rule, people piss me off, which is probably a good thing, because then I don’t get mad when they take off.” Whoa. That was more bitter and more honest than he’d intended on being.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.”
Reg didn’t push. Looking relaxed, he took another swig of beer.
Suddenly, Jeremy felt like sharing. It was probably all the alcohol, the late hour, and the fact that Reg had one of those bartender personalities that made people want to unburden themselves. “What I mean is that I’m never in one place for long. I’m supposed to be seen at all sorts of events, and I have to meet with photographers and print journalists and TV people. Women enjoy that for a little while, especially if they’re trying to get noticed, right? I mean, if they’re with me, they figure their pictures will turn up places, and then they’ll get their big break. But then they realize it isn’t really that cool. Mostly they have to stand around waiting for me to finish what I’m doing, and, unless they’re already well known, people ignore them. Or if they do get photographed, it’s when they’re not expecting it and someone catches them without makeup or on a fat day—whatever that means—and they flip out and blame me.”