The Good Stuff ~ Kenny Chesney
Well, me and my lady had our first big fight, so I drove around 'til I saw the neon light.
Klaus didn't feel right staying in the house without Caroline. He knew she wasn't gone for good; she just needed time to cool down. He could understand, but the large, cavernous house seemed unusually empty without Caroline's bright smile. He got in his car and drove around Mystic Falls until he came to a less-frequented bar than The Grill. He knew if he went there, he'd face interrogation from one, if not more, of Caroline's friends.
A corner bar, an it just seemed right, so I pulled up.
He got out of his car and walked into the bar, the neon signs reflecting on his face. There were no other cars in the parking lot, so he hoped he might have a chance to just sit and think. He wasn't really here to get drunk, but a few wouldn't hurt.
Not a soul around but the old bar keep down at the end and looking half asleep.
Klaus scanned the bar and saw that he was completely alone but for an older man behind the counter, leaning up against the wall looking half-dead. Klaus nodded at him as he passed, taking a stool in the middle of the long counter. He looked friendly, if nothing else. Klaus doubted he'd be of much use, but being courteous in response to courtesy wouldn't hurt.
He walked up and said, "What'll it be?" I said, "The good stuff."
"What can I get you?" he asked, a small smile twitching behind his grey, scruffy beard.
Klaus rested his elbows on the counter. "The good stuff," he said with a sigh. The bartender didn't move as he looked at Klaus with a strange expression.
He didn't reach around for the whiskey, he didn't pour me a beer. His blue eyes kinda went misty. He said, "You can't find that here.
Still not moving from his spot across the counter, he shook his head sadly, his blue eyes becoming watery.
"You can't find that here."
Klaus wasn't sure of what to say, not even able to feel angry with the man's unhelpfulness.
"'Cause it's the first long kiss on a second date, Momma's all worried when you get home late, and droppin' the ring in the spaghetti plate 'cause your hands are shakin' so much."
He pulled up a stool and rested his own elbow on the counter. He began to speak, telling Klaus his idea of 'the good stuff'. With all the years of life experience Klaus had on this man, it had never occurred to him what the good stuff might really be. He'd never been so in love with a woman as he was with Caroline. It didn't take much for him to realize that. He couldn't even stand being in his house without her. She was his world.
His mind took him back to when he and Caroline had first kissed and when he brought her home an hour and a half past curfew. Sheriff Forbes had been furious with him, but Caroline was brimming with happiness.
His proposal. He'd given her the ring on the balcony of their hotel in Paris, but not before nearly dropping it over the railing, his hands shaking with nerves. She'd taken away all his fears when she uttered that simple word that would mean she was his forever.
"And it's the way that she looks with the rice in her hair, and eatin' burnt suppers, the whole first year and askin' for seconds to keep her from tearin' up. Yeah, man, that's the good stuff."
The bartender continued on, and Klaus's mind was flooded with more memories that were as vibrant and realistic as if they'd happened just yesterday.
They walked back down the aisle on the beach of the Atlantic Ocean, the sunset casting a beautiful glow on his new wife's face. The guests clapped and stood as they passed and Klaus had to resist the nearly overwhelming urge to steal her away and show her just how much he loved her.
Caroline had been hopeless in the kitchen, and the first meal she cooked was spaghetti, which turned out to be crunchy noodles topped with tomato-flavored water. Klaus ate it all with a smile on his face to keep her from dissolving into tears. He even asked for seconds. After that meal, though, Klaus had offered her cooking lessons, which she took to with enthusiasm.
I saw a black and white picture and it caught my stare. It was a pretty girl with bouffant hair.
Klaus noticed an antique photograph in a frame by the cash register and the bartender followed his stare. He smiled, reminiscing on old times. Klaus could tell the story would be bittersweet.
He said, "That's my Bonnie, taken 'bout a year after we were wed."
Klaus continued looking at the photograph as the bartender explained, the smile leaving his face. His eyes grew misty again, and his voice became choked with emotion.
He said, "Spent five years in the bottle when the cancer took her from me. But I've been sober three years now, 'cause the one thing stronger than the whiskey . . ."
Klaus realized there was another reason why the man hadn't offered him alcohol. It could numb the pain for a while, but at the end of the day, the real hurt would still be there. Klaus stood up from his seat and offered the bartender his hand. He knew he needed to get home, knowing Caroline would be there.
"Thank you," he said simply, hoping those two simple words conveyed his appreciation of the man's speech.
He said, "When you get home, she'll start to cry. When she says, 'I'm sorry,' say, 'So am I.' And look into those eyes, so deep in love, and drink it up. 'Cause that's the good stuff."
Klaus arrived home and threw open the door and Caroline rushed into the entryway and threw her arms around his waist.
"I'm sorry," she cried.
"So am I," murmured Klaus, pulling her closer to him. He lifted her chin to look at her beautiful, blue eyes. "I love you," he told her and kissed her lips.
It really was the good stuff.