Chapter 43
Lauren secured the last parking spot in The Friendly Bean’s small lot. “I guess karaoke night really is popular,” she said to Pumpkin as she unhooked the pup’s seatbelt. She lifted the little dog from the back seat and set her on the pavement.
A line of people stretched from the front door, buzzing with convivial chatter.
Lauren led Pumpkin to the back of the line.
They stood in the crisp night air as more people joined behind them.
She looked down at her dog, wishing she had thought to put a sweater on her.
“Are you cold? Maybe we should come back next week,” Lauren murmured.
Pumpkin ignored Lauren as she sniffed the air, savoring the new and unfamiliar scents.
Lauren was about to step out of line when it suddenly began to move. “Never mind,” she said to her pup. “I guess we’re going in.”
The dining room hummed with energy. Lauren spotted a small, round table along the back wall. She scooped Pumpkin into her arms and strode across the room. She had promised herself she would come to karaoke night. And here she was.
Lauren slid into the chair and settled Pumpkin comfortably in her lap. I’m just watching tonight, she told herself. Singing with a group of carolers, or tossing out one random line at a New Year’s Eve party, was far different from standing in front of a crowd this size and singing by herself.
The karaoke jockey stepped up to the microphone and introduced himself.
Behind him, an open laptop rested on a tall stand.
“Folks,” he said, “I’ve got at least sixty thousand songs available for you to choose from.
” He held up a small, acrylic table sign displaying a QR code.
“There’s a QR code on every table. Use it to search the catalog.
If your favorite song isn’t there, let me know, and I’ll find it for next week. ”
Several people cheered.
“Many of you already know the drill,” he continued.
“You’ve turned in slips of paper with your name and the song you want to sing.
” He lifted a stack of slips piled up next to his laptop.
“And for those of you who work up the courage while you’re watching other singers, there’s plenty of paper on every table.
Fill out a form, hand it to a server, and we’ll get you up here. ”
He gestured toward the microphone. “The Friendly Bean has a first-rate sound system, so you won’t need to belt to the back row.
The lyrics will roll across the monitor in front of you, so you don’t even need to know the words.
” He grinned. “So, there’s no reason to be shy.
It’s more fun when everyone takes part.”
He tapped the laptop. “Let’s get this party started.” He pulled the slip from the top of the stack. “First up is Dave. He’ll lead us off with a classic, one of my favorites and I’m sure one of yours, ‘Unchained Melody.’”
A slim man with long gray hair pulled into a ponytail rose from one of the front tables and stepped up to the microphone.
The familiar introductory notes filled the room.
Dave did an admirable job with the beloved tune but faltered during the falsetto section.
Nonetheless, his efforts were rewarded with enthusiastic applause.
Next, a couple stumbled charmingly through a duet of “I Got You Babe,” followed by a spirited rendition of “Sweet Caroline” by a man old enough to be the original artist. The singer’s talent leaned more toward crowd engagement than vocal excellence.
Lauren stood with the rest of the audience, joining the crowd for the famous “So good! So good! So good!” chorus.
The evening rolled along, and Lauren realized she hadn’t stopped smiling. She was sipping her club soda with lime when she heard the KJ call her name.
She looked around. Lauren was a common name. Surely someone else had signed up.
“Lauren,” the KJ said again. “You didn’t sign up to sing, but the owner”—he pointed toward a figure lingering in the shadows—“heard you sing recently and has a request.” He shielded his eyes from the stage lights. “Is there a Lauren in the audience?”
Lauren glanced around again, then slowly slid off her chair and raised her hand.
“There she is!” the KJ said. “Come on up here, Lauren, and show us what you’ve got.”
The crowd erupted in cheers.
“Let’s give her a warm round of applause and welcome her the way you would want to be welcomed if someone dragged you up here without warning!”
Lauren swallowed and looked down at Pumpkin. “Well, girl,” she murmured, “I guess we’re doing this.” She walked onto the stage as the crowd began chanting her name.
“Lauren! Lauren! Lauren!”
Pumpkin hopped up onto the platform beside her.
“What’s your little friend’s name?” the KJ asked.
“This is Pumpkin.”
“Okay, Lauren and Pumpkin. I know this is coming out of left field, but the owner, who also happens to be my boss, has two song suggestions.” He grinned. “He’d like to hear either ‘My Heart Will Go On’ or ‘I Will Always Love You.’”
Lauren spun toward him, one eyebrow lifting.
“I know,” he said quickly. “Celine Dion and Whitney Houston. He’s paying you a big compliment.”
“Or trying to terrify me,” Lauren replied.
The room rippled with sympathetic laughter.
“If neither works for you, you’re welcome to pick something else.”
Lauren inhaled. She had been singing those songs in the shower for years and knew every lyric by heart. She turned toward the crowd. “Let’s vote,” she said. “Clap if you want ‘My Heart Will Go On.’”
Applause filled the room.
She raised her other hand. “And now if you want ‘I Will Always Love You.’”
The room erupted.
Lauren nodded. “Okay, then.” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “With respect to Whitney Houston—”
The KJ started the music.
Lauren delivered the song with perfect pitch, careful pacing, and just enough drama to bring the house down. Even Dolly Parton would have approved. When the last note rang out, the room exploded in applause.
“Thank you,” Lauren said, stepping back from the microphone.
“Encore!” someone shouted. The crowd took it up. “Encore! Encore!”
Pumpkin placed her paws on Lauren’s knee, tilted her head back, and let out an enthusiastic woof.
The room burst into laughter.
“I think you’ve got a mandate,” the KJ said.
Lauren laughed. “All right. ‘My Heart Will Go On’ was a close second. Let’s do that one.”
Applause filled the room again.
Lauren delivered another flawless performance.
When the song ended, the owner of The Friendly Bean emerged from the shadows and joined her on stage.
“Thanks for being such a good sport,” he whispered in her ear.
“You were even better than I hoped.” He leaned into the microphone.
“Let’s send Lauren and Pumpkin back to their seats with another round of applause! ”
The crowd obliged. Karaoke continued for another hour.
Lauren checked her watch. She had planned to leave long ago but was having far too much fun to go. When the last singer of the night finished “My Way,” the crowd began streaming toward the door.
Lauren and Pumpkin followed the flow of patrons out into the parking lot. Nearly everyone stopped to compliment her singing, and to pet her puppy. She was unlocking her car when the café’s back door opened.
The owner stepped outside. “Lauren!” he called.
She turned.
“Same time next week?”
Lauren felt a warm flush rise to her cheeks. “Same time next week,” she called back, giving him a thumbs-up.