It’s Friday night. I slip on my Strawberry Shortcake nightgown and wash the sweat and dirt from my hands and face. I should probably take a bath but what’s the point. It’s summer.
I grab a pillow from the extra bedroom and a worn”fuzzy” blanket with a picture of a lion on it.
I walk into the living room and catch a glimpse of the cars staggered in the parking lot from the second floor window. There are really no designated parking spaces but somehow they all find their place. My eyes glance toward the beat-up blue Chevy pick-up pulling in. Always room for one more.
The tv switches from a commercial to an episode of Double-Dare. Terri scoots a little closer to the tv and turns it up.
I stretch out on the blue shag carpet behind her in the middle of the room. It smells like a mix of coffee and cigars. I breath it in. It’s an oddly comforting smell.
Grams comes into the room and turns the tv down, telling Terri to scoot back. Just a little while longer and then she’ll be back to turn the tv off. She gives me a wink. She’ll let us stay up far too late.
The muffled sounds of laughter and music from the juke box below fill the floor with a constant hum. I press my ear into the shag carpet a little harder. I can’t make out the conversations or even the song playing but I don’t try to. I just let the hum resonate through my ear. My bedtime lullaby.
Some nights I want nothing more than to stretch out on that old blue shag carpet. Hear that hum of music and laughter. Be enveloped in the love of that old bar.