Page 47 of An Irish Hope

Now, with mere hours before he’d leave, he wondered just what would happen next.

“So, what do you think you’d like to sing on your last night?” she asked.

“You mean as a solo or with you?”

“Either. Or.”

He shrugged. “I’m happy with most options for my solo. Whatever we do for the duet it’d be good if it’s not cheesy.”

“Oh, absolutely. I hate cheesiness in karaoke. Can you imagine such a thing?”

He laughed. “Okay, fine. I suppose I should have expected you’d make a comment like that. But hey, it would be good if it’s not completely cheesy.”

“Noted.” She grinned. “I’ll make sure it’s only moderately cheesy, then.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Why was it so easy to talk with her, as if they had known each other forever, while with other women—Greta—conversations had ended up like drawing bad teeth? Full of painful moments, interspersed with moments of waiting for the suffering to end?

“Okay,” the emcee grasped the microphone. “Let’s give it up for the O’Leary family.”

Andy joined the enthusiastic applause for the band, his heart thudding as he wondered what would happen next.

“Now I see a few fan favourites, and a few wannabe Sinead O’Connors, God rest her soul. Now, who is going to be first?”

Andy glanced at Aisling and raised his eyebrows. “Go on. You know you want to.”

She laughed, and shook her head. “I don’t want to be presumptuous.”

“Aisling Fairall, is that you I spy over there?” the emcee called. “Ah, and are you with the man who gave the excellent Jim Kerr impression from last time?”

Oh. The man was referring to him, was he? Andy gave a small wave.

“I’m taking that as a yes! So, how about you two come on down and get proceedings started?”

“Want to?” Aisling asked him.

He shrugged. Clearly her fearlessness had infected him, too. “We’ve got nothing to lose.”

“That’s right.” She winked. “Everyone else has.”

She drew him forward to the music where they could pick their songs. His body was humming with anticipation.

“Now,” Aisling glanced at the emcee, “Andy here was saying he wanted something a little cheesy—”

“Hey!”

“So I’m wondering if you have any suggestions for us.”

He laughed. “A duet, huh?” He tapped a song. “Well, you can’t go wrong with this one.”

“Oh, but I think we can,” he objected. “I don’t know it too well, but from what I remember some of those words are a little, well—”

“They’re just words,” Aisling murmured.

“But I don’t want anyone thinking that’s what we’ve done.”