Page 65 of Always Almost You

“I guess you’re right,” Mike said. “I have a feeling I’ll be working from the office more often now because Buddy wants to be with Billy.” He glanced at Cheryl. “Do you mind if Billy stays here while I’m in my meeting?”

“That’s fine.” She looked from the doggy friends to Mike. “It looks like this guy has brought you a lot of happiness.”

“He has,” Mike replied. “But I was happy before, you know.”

She nodded. “I know. But there’s a lightness to you I haven’t seen since before your divorce.” Cheryl chuckled. “It seems like you finally got the family you wanted.”

Mike acknowledged the remark with a half-smile. It was true. Buddy felt like family. But Mike also wanted more.

His meeting concluded in under an hour. Mike woke Buddy, who acted as if he were being separated from a long-lost brother when Cheryl finally coaxed Billy back to her office.

The visit to the vet was quick and uneventful. Mike and Buddy entered The Friendly Bean for an early dinner. The café wasn’t yet crowded with dinner patrons, and they quickly found a table. Buddy polished off his pupcake and stretched out under the table while Mike worked his way through a Reuben sandwich and a pile of fries.

Across the room, staff members cleared away several tables and assembled a long, narrow platform. Someone set up a microphone and placed a tall stool behind the mic. A monitor was positioned slightly to the right in front of the mic.

“What’s going on?” Mike asked when his server brought the check.

“It’s karaoke night,” the server said. “Every Thursday.” She gestured toward the small stage. “It’ll start in about an hour, and this place will be packed by then. You’ve got a prime seat. If you have time, you might want to stay.”

Mike pulled out his credit card and handed it to her. “Maybe another time,” he said, thinking of the mountain of work he’d brought home from the office.

The server processed the charge on her handheld card reader. “Try to make it on Valentine’s Day. We always have karaoke, no matter what day of the week it falls on. It’s our busiest night of the year. We’ll start an hour early.”

“Good to know,” he replied, replacing the card in his wallet. “I’ll think about it.”

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.