“You’re a long way from home,” she said, not looking at him.
The bar was called The Lucky Star, but there was nothing lucky about it anymore. The neon sign buzzed with a dying insect’s desperation, casting the parking lot in a watery pink glow. Eddie sat in his truck, knuckles white on the steering wheel, listening to the rain ping off the roof. He’d driven forty miles on a Tuesday night for no good reason.
Sad eyes… turn the other way…
He rested his chin on the top of her head. She pressed her cheek to his chest.
Except he knew the reason. He just didn’t want to say it out loud. Bruce Springsteen-Sad Eyes mp3
Marie laughed—a dry, quiet sound. “There’s no dance floor.”
“There’s a floor. We’ll figure it out.” “You’re a long way from home,” she said,
Inside, the jukebox was playing something slow. Something with a pedal steel guitar that sounded like regret. He spotted her at the far end of the bar, alone, tracing the rim of a highball glass with her finger. She hadn’t changed the way he’d feared she would. Same dark hair, same way of holding her shoulders like she was bracing for a wave to hit.