Here is my submission for this week’s Stories from the Jukebox prompt, Copper Canteen by James McMurtry, chosen by primalbeet .
She came in from the woods and found him dozing in his chair. He'd been up since before dawn, working in his studio when she left for her walk. A collage or a painting or something. She wasn't sure—there were always at least three projects going at once.
She kicked off her boots and hung her rosary on the hook by the door.
“You know I’m still a lost cause…” His eyes landed on her beads.
He’d tell her that every now and again. She smiled. She always did, but it reached her eyes differently sometimes. He knew well enough what each smile meant.
She kissed the top of his head before she started the coffee. One extra scoop from what the side of the can suggested. They liked it just that kind of strong—not too much, just a little more interesting.
***
It was after midnight. He closed the door softly behind him. Every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday at the Copper Canteen—mostly covers. Steady gigs and familiar songs paid the bills. They hadn’t needed his gigs to pay the bills in years, but he still liked the work, and she still liked having Saturday nights to herself.
He took off his shoes before he hit the hardwood. He stretched the small of his back. These days, four hours on a barstool at the mic required at least that. He set his guitar in the corner, then hung his keys on their hook. His hand brushed her rosary and he caught the beads in his palm. He stood there for a moment. Then he let them fall back against the wall and turned to hang up his jacket.
He walked past the bed in his sock feet. Her breathing was steady, like a woman who knew she was safe. He brushed his teeth in the dark. Then felt his way to his side of the bed and set his watch gently on the nightstand. He held his breath and slipped under the covers without a sound—a dance he’d done for decades.
“How was the show?”
“Crowd was decent. Nobody requested Free Bird. Tip jar wasn’t bad.”
“Good.”
“I played your song.”
“You did?”
“Mm-hm.”
She turned toward him.
“I wasn’t there, tonight.”
“I know.”
He kissed her on the forehead.
***
She poked her head into the studio. His brow was furrowed; three paint colors in his hand.
“Morning sweets.”
He looked up.
“You walking the ridge?”
“Probably.”
“It’s supposed to rain.”
“I know.”
She took her rosary from the hook.
“Coffee at eight?”
“Always.”
***
Copper Canteen — James McMurtry
Bring it On Home to Me — Sam Cooke
Sweet Symphony — Joy Oladokun ft. Chris Stapleton
Still Out There Running — Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats
Wondering Why — The Red Clay Strays
This Year’s Love — David Gray
All the Ways — The Secret Sisters ft. Ray LaMontagne
Millionaire — Chris Stapleton
Check out the Jukebox here.
Looks like the perfect match, and they know it. 🤍 Happy Writing Grace!🤠🤙