DeeDee deposits me onto a barstool that’s been decorated with streamers and runs behind the bar. I already kind of hate all of the attention, but I let it wash over me anyway, the moment filling me up with something I don’t have a name for. I glance over my shoulders for Youssef, but the face I see instead makes me do a double-take and then start screaming.
“Isabella! Holy shit! You’re here!”
My sister beams at me and takes a few timid steps forward. “Hey, Paige. I, um, I saw your show. You were so great.”
She lifts her arms like she doesn’t know if she should hug me or not. I get up off my stool and pull her in close. Even then, I can’t quite believe she’s here. I mentioned the show to her but was too worried to formally invite her. I didn’t want to push things between us when they’re still so new.
We break apart, and she beams at me.
“How did you—What are you—”
She laughs at my stuttering, but before she can say anything, DeeDee is slamming a tray of shots down on the bar. She motions for me to sit in my stool again and sets one down in front of me. It’s layered with a few different colours of liquor and has a lime wedge resting on top.
“This is my new recipe!” she announces to the crowd. “It’s called The Sexy DJ!”
Everybody laughs, and DeeDee raises her own shot glass as she leads them all in a toast.
“To Paige!Bon voyage, ma belle! New York is going to love you.”
I take the shot, and it’s as delicious as every drink DeeDee makes. I finish with the lime wedge, and then turn to find Youssef at my side.
“Hey, sexy DJ,” he says into my hair.
I don’t care that everyone’s watching. I pull the lime out of my mouth and fling it away before kissing him as hard as I can.
* * *
The party doesn’tlast long, considering it’s a Sunday night, but it’s perfect. DeeDee even gets me on the dance floor for a bit, but mostly I just spend it by the bar, listening to all the congratulations and catching up with Isabella while Youssef pops in now and then.
She tells me she hopes she can catch more of my shows, and that I’m welcome to stay with her in Toronto whenever I’m in town. I can’t stop smiling.
We’re sisters again. We really are.
Eventually, she has to head out with the friend she’s staying with, and guests start leaving quickly after that. By 2AM, it’s just Youssef and I and some of the Taverne Toulouse staff left. We help them with the clean up, and I end up gathering glasses from around the bar to take to the dishwashing machine.
I pause for a minute and set my plastic bin down on a table so I can look around the bar. There was a time when this was the biggest venue I’d ever played. It was my first regular set. It’s where I met Ingrid. It’s where DeeDee started becoming a friend and not just my roommate’s girlfriend. It’s where I let myself tell stories and share feelings I never thought I’d entrust to anyone.
It’s where I found Youssef again.
This bar is the place that changed everything, and it’s the perfect place to spend my last night before everything changes again.
Only this time, I’m not so scared of that change.
“Hey, Paige.” Taverne Toulouse’s owner, Monroe, sets a bin of empty glasses down next to mine. She stands next to me, short enough that the top of her head only reaches just past my shoulder.
I don’t know her all that well. She’s close with DeeDee, and I know everyone here loves working for her. According to the staff, she’s the heart and soul of this place, and she’s the one who took a chance giving me my regular set here.
“Congratulations,” she says. “It sounds like you’ve got some amazing things ahead of you. I can’t believe Taverne Toulouse is losing its best DJ.”
Now that I’m booking bigger venues that are taking me farther away than ever before, I’ve had to pull out of my commitment to the bar.
“I might be back begging for gigs before you know it.”
She chuckles. “I don’t think so, but we’d always love to have you. You’re part of the Taverne Toulouse family, you know?”
I don’t know why, but that makes my throat get all thick. I wasn’t ever looking for a family here, but that seems to be how things turned out.
“Thanks,” I mumble. “That, um...Thank you.”
