Chapter Five #3
Sabrina the hair stylist, and Carter the librarian, are up next on the small stage. They’re performing “Shallow” by Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper. And holy shit, do they have great voices.
Nash and I seem to be attracting some attention. Though not as much as at the coffee shop the other day. Molly the mayor and psychic counselor, however, is at another table with her girlfriend. She keeps glancing our way with a thoughtful sort of frown.
I shuffle my chair closer to my fake boyfriend and give him a smile. “We’re being observed. Do something coupley.”
He leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead.
Grandma frowns at the display, but doesn’t comment.
“Did you just BBQ me?” I ask.
“No.” He smiles and does a one-shoulder shrug. “A small amount of sauce maybe. But you know how fetching I think you look with food on your face.”
“Such a weird kink.”
“But you respect it, right?”
I laugh.
Grandma ignores our nonsense. However, Molly smiles and turns back to her date. The lengths I would go to avoid doing more counseling. There are no limits.
Things feel lighter tonight. Like the lingering miasma of thoughts and feelings about my breakup have lifted.
Guess Nash was right and I needed to give myself space and time to process.
Meanwhile, he’s sitting tall at the table and enjoying the scene.
The green tee, blue jeans, and boots suit him.
I would say they help him to blend in. But he’s six foot four with the face of a male model and muscles for days.
Safe to say he was never going to disappear into the crowd.
“And next we have Nash with ‘You Were Always On My Mind’ by Elvis Presley,” announces the karaoke hostess.
He frowns. “What did they say?”
“Someone nominated you,” answers Grandma. “It happens. I once had to perform ‘Old Town Road.’ I thought it went quite well actually. Though I hurt my hip dancing and had to see the physio.”
Nash seems genuinely freaked. “Shit.”
“Can he refuse?” I ask.
“Best not to.” Grandma takes a sip of wine. “It’d probably just attract more attention.”
“You can’t do it properly.” I lean close to him with the fakest of smiles. Like I’m cajoling him into performing. “You have to suck.”
“Okay,” he says bravely.
“I mean it…you have to go up there and be the actual worst.”
“I can do this.” He nods. “I can suck.”
I smile brightly as he walks toward the stage. It’s no doubt the smallest one he’s played in a decade or more. Over behind the bar, Rose whistles and applauds with enthusiasm. Makes me wonder if they nominated Nash.
He steps on stage as the music begins. His forehead bangs loudly into the microphone as he bends down to raise its height. Then he stands there awkwardly staring at the crowd. “It’s something about wise men and fools, right?”
“Wrong song,” shouts someone helpful.
“The lyrics are on the screen,” adds Carter.
Nash moves back from the microphone and mumbles something.
It could be the song. Or he could be reciting pi.
I doubt we’ll ever know. Which is when the karaoke hostess steps forward and motions for him to come closer to the microphone.
The drag queen has glamorous black hair, an orange minidress, and a sequined blue jacket.
“That’s Barb Swallow,” says Grandma. “She runs bingo and is also the best accountant in the area.”
And Nash looks directly at me and says, “You were always…um…on my…you know…mind.”
“And they say romance is dead.” Grandma lifts her glass of wine in salute to him. “Well done!”
However, this attempt at serenading me earns him a round of applause from the crowd. People are waving their arms in time to the music, and one member of the audience shouts out, “Thank you very much,” done in the style of the king.
Barb Swallow encourages him to attempt to sing. However, the off-key warbling coming from his throat soon persuades her to give up. She gives him a supportive smile and wanders back to the side of the stage and her waiting cocktail.
“He almost hit that note,” says Grandma. “Oh, that one wasn’t even in the same key.”
I wince as he attempts a noise both high and dangerous. It’s a wonder every glass in the room doesn’t shatter. “I know I told him to suck, but this is amazing. He’s really giving it his all.”
There’s some mumbling from him about being third best and deaf and then he’s pushing through the chorus one more time.
People join in, helping him sing the song, and it’s a beautiful thing.
But Nash decides he’s done enough performing.
He waves to his adoring audience and leaves the stage to more applause. He did bad so well.
When he retakes his seat next to me, he pulls it closer to mine.
I smile adoringly up at him, and he gives me a wink.
And I know it’s all pretend. Though it won’t hurt anything to enjoy it for a while.
He makes things seem fuzzy and nice. I don’t know how else to describe it.
Like the world is a softer, safer, and more welcoming place with him by my side.
But the important thing is no one thinks he’s Aaron Porter. Our plan is a success.