“Welcome to No Limits Karaoke,” Avery says, holding up a straw fedora. “I’ve put all your names in this hat. You’ll each take a name and choose the song that person will sing tonight. No passes. No exceptions. Not even you, Pat.”
Avery makes a circuit of the room and when she gets to me, I draw a name from the hat. Rosemary. Oh God, how am I going to choose a song for a stranger who also happens to be the oldest person in the room? My panic must show on my face because Courtney leans over and says, “It’s okay. This is how book club works. We all signed on for this.”
“Avery never mentioned any of this to me.”
Courtney laughs. “First rule of book club.”
“You have five minutes to choose your songs,” Avery says, distributing a list of available songs. It’s not a binder, like at karaoke lounges, but there are still a lot of potentially embarrassing options. “And in the spirit of being welcoming, Rachel gets to sing first.”
Back before I had Maisie, my friends and I used to go to a karaoke lounge in Fort Lauderdale and choose the most annoying songs we could find. The serious karaoke singers hated us, but it’s made me bulletproof. There’s nothing these ladies can pick that will throw me. Problem is, I don’t want to choose anything too physically strenuous for Rosemary. But eventually a fun song jumps out at me. One she might not know. I write it down on the paper and Avery comes around to collect them.
“Okay, Rachel, you’re up,” she says.
I step up behind the microphone and study the eight women looking at me, wondering which of them chose the song I’m about to sing.
“Your song”—Avery presses a button—“is this.”
The synchronized beats of “Holding Out for a Hero” fill the room. Thankfully, it’s the original—not the Shrek 2 version I’ve heard too many times to count—and I know it by heart. I don’t have an amazing voice, but this song leaves so much room for showmanship.
“Bold choice,” I say into the microphone. “But I have a toddler. I could sing this in my sleep.”
The women laugh as I launch into the song, and for the next four minutes I’m Bonnie Tyler, stalking the stage and clutching my chest. As the song fades away, I take a deep, dramatic bow. They all clap wildly and someone even whistles.
“I never expected you for a ringer,” Avery says.
“Yeah, well, you never told me book club might include karaoke.”
Pat goes next and, up there onstage—wearing mom jeans and New Balance sneakers—she surprises me by singing “You Need to Calm Down” without needing the lyrics, and it’s a complete delight. Courtney belts out “Jolene,” Diane blushes deep pink as she giggles her way through the dirty parts of “You Oughta Know,” and Gail manages a surprisingly good rendition of “Don’t Stop Believin’。” Virginia shocks everyone when she knows all the words to “Livin’ on a Prayer,” Tori has us clapping along as she sings “Hey There Delilah,” and Avery channels Kurt Cobain with “Smells Like Teen Spirit.”
Finally Rosemary takes the stage, using her cane for leverage as she steps up.
When the familiar strumming begins, I hold my breath. She leans toward the microphone and says, “Anyway, here’s ‘Wonderwall.’”
We all break down laughing, and tears are still trickling from the corners of my eyes as Rosemary completely nails the song.
Some of us sing a second song of our choice, and Avery and I team up for “Summer Nights” from the Grease soundtrack. We drink, talk, and laugh a lot. Even though I don’t know their in-jokes and local references, I feel included. Like I’m part of their community.
“How are you getting along out there with Mason?” Rosemary asks as we return to the living room.
“He’s, um—kind of reserved, but we’re getting things done.”
“He wasn’t always like that,” she says. “The Brown family has owned that property since the early days of the island, and when he was a boy, Mason used to spend the summers with his grandparents. He and some of the other kids from the island, including Daniel, were as wild as could be.”
“Wild is not the word I’d use for him.”
She offers a soft smile and a knowing look. “Well, he’s had a difficult time.”
“I know.”
“Keep that in mind,” Rosemary says before letting out a small yawn. “And now I think it’s time for me to head on home.”
“Do you need a ride?”
“You’re a dear for asking, but I only live a few houses down.”
The book club members trickle slowly home until it’s just Avery and me, cleaning up the mess. She doesn’t send me home when I offer to help, and I appreciate the honesty. When the dishes are washed and her dining room is a dining room again, we pour some wine and sit in the yellow Adirondack chairs on her front porch.
“I covet these chairs,” I say as she lights up a small joint and takes a long drag. “I have some like them on a Pinterest board for my someday house.”
She offers me the joint. For years I’ve been the responsible one while Brian has smoked weed, played video games, and generally acted the fool. But tonight Maisie is happy and safe, so I don’t overthink it. I take only a small hit, though.
“Look,” Avery says. “I’ve seen Mason’s place. All you need to do is tell him what you want and let him pay for it. He’s not going to complain when his house stops looking like the front window display of a thrift store.”
“What if he hates it? Or starts dating someone who hates it?”
She cracks up laughing. “Where is Mason going to meet someone to date? He never leaves the brewery. He’s like … Miss Havisham. Which is why I’d hoped maybe the two of you might—”
“My sister lost her fiancé to suicide a couple of years ago,” I interrupt, not wanting to go down that road. “I used to get so irritated with her because it seemed like she wanted to be miserable. Until one day when she packed up everything she owned, moved onto their sailboat, and left. I was so mad because I thought it was a selfish thing to do. But she got better because she was ready to get better. Mason will too.”
Avery sighs. “I know.”
“But I’ll see what I can do about getting rid of that hideous couch.”
“Hey, do you want to spend the night? We have a guest room.”
“I’d say yes, but I also love the idea of sleeping all night in my own bed knowing Maisie will not be there when I wake up.”
She laughs. “I don’t remember the last time Daniel and I slept without Leo. He’s the best birth control.”
“Thanks for inviting me to book club.”
“You’re welcome,” Avery says. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. And I hope you don’t mind that I basically forced you to be my best friend.”
I nudge her elbow with mine. “I can think of worse things to be.”
* * *
It’s nearly eleven by the time I get back to the house. I’m not wasted or stoned, but I’m feeling just tipsy enough to want to look at the sky. I lie back on the grass and watch the stars grow denser as my eyes adjust to the darkness. After a bit, I hear the creak of the screen door and Mason’s footsteps on the stairs. He lowers himself down beside me, not so close that we’re in danger of touching, but not so far away that I’m not extremely aware of his body next to mine. “This is the time of year we start getting ticks, so you might want to consider spreading a blanket or—”