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 behindthe 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.
CHAPTER SIX
No idea how early he went out, but the next morning Nash wanders down the front garden path to join us on the porch. The sun is shining, the sky is blue, and birds are singing. And he’s wearing cargo shorts and tennis shoes with no shirt. His chest is slick with sweat, making him sparkle in the morning sun. “Guess who made new friends at jogging group?”
“Was it you, dear?” asks Grandma. She likes to sit on the front porch and silently judge her neighbors over a cup of coffee in the morning. It’s her version of calm at the start of the day. “You’re staring, June.”
Shit.Shoving his man nipples in my face again at this hour is indecent. I know he has enough money to buy clothes. “Sorry. I was just…never mind.”
Nash grins. “Morning, Junebug. Good to see you.”
“You should put on a shirt before you catch cold,” I say.
