“It’s not that bad, honey,” Dad said, but he didn’t make eye contact.
Glancing across the table at my friend, I said, “My singing is so bad my third grade teacher asked me to be the choir manager for our annual Christmas pageant. I handed all the singers their props and didn’t sing a note, even in practice.”
“Okay, I’ll sing, and you can be my backup dancer.”
Dad and I exchanged a smirk.
“That’s going to be a whole lot better,” I said. “Not.”
“Depends on how much alcohol we enjoy before the big event.”
Before I could ask, Dad jumped in. “Yes, I’ll drive you and pick you up.”
I stood to walk my plate over to the sink, stopping to drop a kiss on Dad’s cheek on my way by. “Thanks, Dad. You’re the best.”
“You weren’t kidding about how rustic this place is,” Piper said as her eyes took a tour of Harlo’s “hot spot.” She stepped toward the bar to check out the liquor selection on display. “It’s cute though. I like it. They even stock my favorite vodka.”
Since it was only ten o’clock, the bar wasn’t too crowded. Not that I thought a crowd would show up. In the corner of the room to the left of the bar, Shane had set up his karaoke equipment on the tiny triangular dais where bands were said to have played back in the day, like maybe when my parents first moved to Harlo. I couldn’t remember a live band playing at the Elk Horn.
Several unoccupied barstools meant we could have our pick. Piper being Piper chose two in the center, directly in the line of sight of the front door.
“Is it necessary for us to be so conspicuous?” I asked as I took my time removing my jacket and draping it over the back of my stool.
“You don’t want to sit here? Because these seats guarantee great service.”
Her excuse didn’t fool me for a second. “Trust me. No one worth impressing is going to walk through that door tonight.”
She smiled indulgently at me and called the bartender over to order her usual lemon drop martini. I ordered a beer and settled into my seat.
“This week has been so much fun. Way better than spending it with my family in Aspen,” she said as the bartender set our drinks in front of us. Color filled her cheeks. “That sounded bad. I truly enjoyed spending time with you and your great dad.”
“Even more than skiing in Aspen?” I deadpanned.
“Don’t worry, I’m not missing out. I signed up for a ski class for a PE credit. Between that and weekends, I’ll manage lots of time on the slopes this winter.” She winked. “I learned so much in the store, and I had a plausible excuse for avoiding my family during the holidays. Win-win.” She clinked her glass to my bottle. “Thanks again for letting me crash your break.”
I clinked my drink to hers again. “Thanks for making the break way more fun than usual.”
Shane interrupted on his mic. “Happy New Year! Time to get this party started. First up is Max Robinson singing Jelly Roll’s ‘Need a Favor.’”
“It’s about to get even more fun,” my friend said. The cryptic tone of her voice put my guard right up.
I narrowed my gaze at her. “I’m going to do everyone in this bar a huge favor andnotsing tonight. Trust me.”
With a coy smirk, she lifted her drink to her lips. “We’ll see.”
Piper opened a tab and refused to let me pay for a single drink. That open tab also meant I never went without a fresh beer in front of me. By 11:30 p.m. the bar was more crowded than I’d ever seen it. Guess word had spread about the purple-haired wild woman entertaining at the Elk Horn, and everyone in town had come to see.
Truth be told, my friend couldn’t sing much better than me, but what she lacked in talent she more than made up for in enthusiasm, taking the entire bar along with her for the ride. The night felt like all the nights we’d spent with Jamaica and Saylor when we were freshmen goofing off in the dorms, and before I knew it, I’d agreed to sing with her. Good thing everyone knew the words to “Don’t Stop Believin’” so we didn’t end up singing it alone.
By midnight she’d talked me into dancing on the tabletops. Why Buzzy put up with that nonsense, I have no idea, but boy howdy, was it fun. Max was back singing again, I swear he sang for half the night, but at least he had a decent voice. I think I remembered him singing in the high-school choir. Anyway, he was belting Luke Bryan and Blake Shelton drinking songs, which made it easy to take the party up a level.
Piper and I cracked up at my bad joke, and that was when I caught Stan Wellington trying to sneak a peek up my skirt. I don’t know what he thought he going to see with me wearing leggings, but that move reminded me why turning him down for every date he’d asked for in high school proved I had a strong sense of self preservation.
“Don’t you know it’s never a good idea to drink and text?” I asked Piper when I hopped off the table and caught her in the act. “What did Saylor and Jamaica think of my mad dance moves?”
“I wasn’t texting them.” A pretty shade of rose rode her high cheekbones.
With narrowed eyes I asked, “Who were you texting?”
