9. On the Sound System “Cheap Thrills” by Sia

CHAPTER 9

ON THE SOUND SYSTEM: “CHEAP THRILLS” BY SIA

The Gin Mill is a brand-new bar in Colebury, Vermont, just a few miles up the road from the Overland estate. Nicolette has just parked her car outside the brightly lit old mill building with the cheerful neon sign above the door.

Snow and gravel crunch under her feet as she walks toward the front door, and the sound of voices and laughter waft out of the many-paned windows.

She and Cam are in Vermont for the holidays, as usual. One of Cam’s college roommates has a ski house at Killington, and whenever they’re in Vermont, Cam makes a point to try to see him.

Nicolette, on the other hand, makes a point to stay away. He’s not her favorite person.

Tonight, they went to a hockey game over the New Hampshire border—Dartmouth versus Harvard. Nicolette begged off, saying she had some work to finish, and they should go without her.

She spent a lovely few hours by herself, and then forty minutes ago, Cam started texting her, asking her to "show her face" at the bar.

You used to be fun , one of the texts read.

It’s a cruel thing to say. But the holidays are just so hard on everybody. Especially when spending time with her father and Veronica means being asked the age-old question— when are you going to start a family ? As if they haven’t ever considered this. As if Nicolette hasn’t cried in the bathroom the last two years every time she gets her period.

Cam has been especially irritable since he lost the congressional primary to a statehouse representative who’s spent more time in politics. The defeat made a certain amount of sense to Nicolette. But Cam hadn’t seen it that way, especially since the candidate was a woman.

That makes it embarrassing , he said to her after giving a half-hearted concession speech to a room full of his supporters. She's not even pretty , he added while she cringed inside.

At least he only said it to her. Probably.

It’s been a rough couple years, all around.

So tonight, when Cam essentially bullied her into going out, Nicolette gave up her happy spot by the fire in their guesthouse, put down a stack of manuscripts from work and her red pen, and pulled on jeans and a nice top.

The evening has a chance of being fun. She’s been curious about the Gin Mill for a while. They’re supposed to have a great beer and cider list, with all the local cult brews. So she pulls open the big front door and allows the music and happy voices to wash over her like water.

The inside is charming. A long wooden bar sweeps the left side. There are high-top tables in the center of the expansive space, some booths along one wall, and pool tables along the other. It’s not fancy, but the brick walls lend it warmth, and candlelight flickers cheerfully from votives on every table.

Cam and his friend Rick Bellamy are easily spotted at the bar.

“There you are,” her husband says when she approaches. “I saved you a seat.” He lifts his coat off the barstool between the two of them.

“Thank you,” she says.

He makes a show of kissing her sweetly and seating her on the stool. Cam has always been in his element like this—in a social setting, with friends. It’s what he does best.

She’s always known this about him, too. Cam loves a loud party, while she prefers a cozy dinner with a couple of friends. Or coffee and gossip in a quiet spot. They’re mismatched .

She knew this but married him anyway, with the expectation that he’d make her life more exciting. Instead, it’s just more exhausting. But that’s on her, isn’t it?

“Hey buddy!” Cam snaps his fingers at the bartender, and she flinches inside.

Sure enough, when the guy—and he’s a looker—finishes up his transaction, he turns to Cam with obvious reluctance. “Help you with something?”

“Can you get my wife a Goldenpour?” Cam says, oblivious. “It’s a cult beer,” he tells her. “Very hoppy. Lots of citrus and minerals.”

She would have preferred to try a cider, but the bartender's mouth is tight, and it's a look she is familiar with. Plenty of bartenders get that look after a night serving Cam. So she doesn’t change her order.

When the bartender slides a pint in her direction a moment later, she makes eye contact. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”

A hint of warmth relaxes his expression. “My pleasure.” Actually, there's something really familiar about this guy, but she can’t place it, and she doesn’t think they've met.

When she tries the beer, it’s interesting. Almost aggressive in its flavor profile. It's not really her thing, but it's still fun to taste something that's been crowned the best beer in the world.

“I like this place,” she says, making conversation.

“Yeah,” Rick agrees. “It's great to see some new energy in this part of Vermont. We need it so bad.”

“Yeah, such a backwater,” Cam adds.

Nicolette sees the bartender roll his eyes. He doesn’t bother being subtle about it. Hard to blame the guy. She looks away, embarrassed, to study the room. There’s a sign on one wall that says, Jukebox night! Songs $1. All Proceeds Benefit the Colebury Community Skating Rink.

A few minutes later, an uptempo song kicks off. It’s “Cheap Thrills” by Sia, which Nicolette always enjoys.

She’s not the only one. The hot bartender picks up an empty beer can—as if he were holding a microphone—and starts to lip sync the lyrics.

The cocktail waitress laughs and bats her eyelashes at him .

Cam and his friend are deep into their hockey talk. When one of them stops to take a breath, she says, “I’m going to put some money in the jukebox. Any particular requests?”

“Anything you want, doll,” Cam says, a possessive hand on her back.

“But no girly shit,” says Rick, reinforcing her dislike of him. Cam is always the worst version of himself when he’s with Rick.

She threads her way through the bustling room toward the jukebox on the far wall. She digs three singles out of her pocketbook and feeds every one of them into the machine. Then she chooses three Taylor Swift songs. Because Rick won’t notice. And also fuck that guy.

“Shake It Off” comes on, and she smiles to herself.

But now she’s spent all her singles and still isn’t ready to go back to the bar. Taking her time, she circuits the big room, taking in the dartboard, where a cheerfully cutthroat game is underway, and then the pool table where a long, lean man is lining up a tricky shot, the cue balanced on the knuckles of one hand.

Her heart recognizes him before her brain catches up. “Damien,” she says suddenly.

The shot misfires. He turns awkwardly around. But when he sees who’s called his name, his face breaks into the most beautiful smile. “Nicky Nicole! Where’ve you been all this time?”

Her face heats. Because Damien.

“I never called,” she says clumsily. Although I think about you often .

Every time she’s standing in a bookstore, she thinks of running into him in Burlington, and the lovely hour they spent catching up over coffee. Like a little vacation. She’d felt refreshed and optimistic afterward.

“I noticed that.” He leans against the pool table and smiles. “Been busy?”

“I have,” she says, leaping on the excuse. “Got a new job, and it’s going really well.”

His expression lights up instantly. “Whoa, buddy,” he says, leaning forward. “Tell me everything. I’m losing this game anyway.” He makes a vague gesture toward the balls on the table .

“He forfeits!” says the guy he was playing against. “That’s unheard of. I can’t imagine what on Earth would make you do that. Oh wait, a woman.” The guy grins.

“Shut it, Benito,” Damien mumbles.

Nicolette recognizes the name. Benito is one of his younger siblings. She never forgets a detail when it comes to Damien. “Sorry,” she says.

Benito grins. “Don’t be sorry. This is very entertaining for me. They should serve popcorn here. I’m going to suggest it.”

“Let’s hear about this job,” Damien says, ignoring his brother. “Is it The One?”

“I think so. I’m working as the assistant to a literary agent. The salary is atrocious, but I’m basically paid to read books all day.”

His eyes widen. “Great scam, Overland.”

“I know, right? It’s a bit like diving for pearls. Most of what we’re sent is terrible, but every once in a while, I open up a shell and find a treasure.” And she loves it. Finally—a job she looks forward to every morning.

“Congratulations,” he says, his brown eyes gleaming. She can tell he understands that it’s a big deal to her. “You here with your family?”

She blinks. The joy of seeing Damien caused her to forget all about Cam. This is exactly why she never called Damien. She still has that business card. Both of them, actually—the one he gave her a decade ago and the one he gave her last year. But she can’t call. It wouldn’t be right. You can’t just go out for coffee with a man who’s always made your heart beat faster.

That’s not coffee, that’s yearning.

And now he’s asked her a question that she’s failing to answer. “Yup,” she says, several beats late. “I’m here with my husband. You’ve, uh, met him. And his friend.”

Damien nods. And then he swallows. “Well, you have a good night. Always great to see you.”

“You too,” she says, trying and failing to keep the wistfulness out of her voice.

Then she gives him one more smile. A good one. And goes back to Cam.