“Oh.” The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. I never thought I’d want to sing on stage ever again—I closed that chapter of my life when I left Birmingham. But Jonah’s proposal doesn’t seem so terrible. “Maybe?” I finally say. “I want to, I think. I’m just scared.”
“I’ll be up there with you. If you get nervous, or you can’t finish a certain part of a song, I’ll be able to help,” Jonah assures me. “And besides, most of the crowd is piss drunk at open mic night, so if you somehow suck, no one will notice.” He cracks a smile.
“Well at least this time I won’t be wearing a bikini up on stage.”
Jonah laughs. It’s quickly becoming my favorite sound in the whole world. “What songs do you want to do?”
“Maybe one of yours, and then I’ll choose some others? We could do some standards.”
Jonah nods and we trade ideas back and forth until we’ve decided on four songs. Any more and we’ll be cutting into theother performers’ time at the mic. But four feels manageable. Four feels like a number I might actually enjoy.
I grab Jonah’s computer off the coffee table. “Do you mind if I use this? I need to do some serious shopping if we’re going out to dinner and also performing together.”
“Of course. And if you see something you want me to wear, go ahead and buy it. I’m open to anything. Even a bikini.”
I know he’s joking but I can’t help but picture him in one and you know what? He’d look pretty good.
40
WINNIE
I fiddlewith my dress in the mirror and frown. From the front, it looks like a simple black velvet sheath dress, falling to mid-calf. But it dips low in the back, with a large silk bow settled just above my hips. It’s vintage, and slightly tight across my waist. Thankfully, the tights I’m wearing underneath make it fit a bit better, and the bow is just large enough to be fun, without screaming nineteen-eighties prom too loudly.
It’s the accessories that are giving me pause. The pearl drop earrings I’m wearing are too big. And my hair. I did my usual bouncy hair, but it feels like a bit much with the dress. Sighing, I pat my hair down and exchange the earrings for simpler studs. I grab the opera length gloves the dress came with and slip my feet into my heels. It’s not getting much better than this.
“I’m ready,” I call out to Jonah, who has been patiently waiting for me in the living room for the last fifteen minutes.
I saunter over to him and do a little spin, knowing the dress looks particularly good from the back. But I’m the one who’s left speechless becausedamnJonah cleans up well. Sure, I saw him in a suit at our wedding, but I think I like this version of him better. He’s wearing a deep green cable knit sweater with wool trousers and what look to be brand new boots. The brownleather cowboy hat I’ve seen him wear a few times is sitting on the couch next to him, along with a corduroy barn coat. His hair is styled more carefully than usual and I can tell he’s trimmed his beard.
He takes in my silent surprise and just grins at me. “Like what you see?”
“We might not make it to the restaurant if you put that hat on,” I breathe.
Slowly Jonah picks the hat up and places it on his head. “You don’t look bad either.”
“Thanks! I’m glad it arrived in time. I’ll wear the matching gloves for the open mic night. Did you go shopping too?”
“I asked Candice for help and she told me that Nathan was the one in their relationship with any sense of style. So you can thank him. He took me shopping yesterday and I left the store pissed and a lot poorer than when I entered.” Jonah frowns.
I laugh, imagining Nathan and Jonah shopping together, one of them delighting in the experience completely and the other absolutely miserable.
“Well he did a good job. I’m impressed.”
“Honestly this sweater is the softest thing I’ve ever worn. So I’m learning to enjoy it.”
Jonah stands up and helps me into my coat, which is a red wrap coat with fur trim along the collar. He helps me out the door too, and down the steps, clearly worried that the icy weather and my heels are a bad combination.
“My mom used to have me practice my pageant routines on a wet floor. She wanted to make sure I never slipped and fell,” I tell him.
“Bitch,” he says under his breath.
I just laugh. “Honestly, it saved me from every pageant girl’s worst nightmare. One of her only good ideas, actually.”
“You never cease to amaze me, Win,” Jonah says as we pull out of the driveway in the Jeep.
“Who? Me?” I crack a smile.
“Yes, you. The woman who manages to smile and laugh about being made to walk in heels across wet floors. Your optimism is really something.”
