Read Online My One Regret (Martin Family Book 3) by Brooke St. James - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brooke St. James
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playing tonight," I said.
"Yeah, and you know Gino," she added.
I glanced at the stage and realized I did know the drummer as well. We talked about music in between listening to the band and eating appetizers. Part of me wanted to be back home in my pajamas, but part of me was glad I had gotten out. Of all the things I could have been doing, this was a good option. I was comfortable with Claire and her friends. I knew I could just sit there and watch the music if I wanted. I didn't need to entertain anyone.
I had been there for about an hour when Chris Jefferies stood up to introduce the band. All of us sitting around the table stopped talking so we could applaud as he stated the names and credentials of each band member. He said the band would be there every second Saturday of the month and that we should all come back to see them next time. "Our next song was written by the late great Miles Davis and is called So What," Chris said, finishing up his speech. A few people cheered at that, which made him pause and smile. "After that, we'll play one called Fever. I played it one time with a friend of mine named Wynn Martin, who happens to be here tonight. We had a lot of fun with it, and I'd like to do it again if she could come join us on stage."
"Whatchu goin' do if she don't come?" the drummer yelled out, teasing Chris and making everyone laugh.
Chris put the mic up to his mouth and squinted around the restaurant as if searching for me. "I guess imma hafta sing it myself if she don’t come," he said in an extremely reluctant, silly way.
He knew me well enough to know I would never leave him hanging. I had performed with him at least a dozen times in the past, and as far as he was concerned, inviting me on stage was something I'd be thankful for—a sure bet.
Everyone sitting near me at the booth started nudging me and carrying on as if his invitation was the most exciting thing that could have happened. I wasn't ready for this yet, but I made myself do it for fear of embarrassing Chris.
I smiled and waved to him and he faked a little swoon from center stage as if he was thankful I had agreed. "This next one's called So What," he mumbled with a little smile before hanging the mic in its stand and making his way back to the piano.
I had approximately five minutes to get myself together and make my way to the stage. Marcus's words came back to me, threatening to shake my confidence. I started thinking maybe I could go up there and tell Chris I had laryngitis or something. The only saving grace was that I knew the song Fever forward and backward. It fit my voice well and was one I had performed tons of times.
It was still extremely difficult to stand up and walk over there. I said a little prayer while I was on my way, asking for the strength to get through this. I made it to the edge of the stage just as the Miles Davis song was ending.
Chris winked at me as I carried the mic and stand to the center of the stage. I considered carrying the mic by itself, but I loved using a stand so that I could fidget and gesture about while I was singing. Those types of things had always been part of my stage presence in the past. I thought about changing it up since I felt like I'd been changed in general, but my hands just wouldn't cooperate with leaving the mic stand at the edge of the stage. I was smiling at myself as I took my position in the center of the stage and placed the mic into its clip. I cleared my throat before looking at Chris as I spoke into the mic.
"I wasn't expecting to sing tonight," I said, my voice coming out more tentatively than I expected. I cleared my throat again as I smiled and squinted into the stage lights. It had only been a couple of weeks since my last gig, but it felt like a lifetime. Being up there in front of an audience seemed somehow foreign and new. "So, I didn't have my lemon-water."
The crowd responded to my dry sense of humor with a round of laughs that made me feel slightly better.
I
"Yeah, and you know Gino," she added.
I glanced at the stage and realized I did know the drummer as well. We talked about music in between listening to the band and eating appetizers. Part of me wanted to be back home in my pajamas, but part of me was glad I had gotten out. Of all the things I could have been doing, this was a good option. I was comfortable with Claire and her friends. I knew I could just sit there and watch the music if I wanted. I didn't need to entertain anyone.
I had been there for about an hour when Chris Jefferies stood up to introduce the band. All of us sitting around the table stopped talking so we could applaud as he stated the names and credentials of each band member. He said the band would be there every second Saturday of the month and that we should all come back to see them next time. "Our next song was written by the late great Miles Davis and is called So What," Chris said, finishing up his speech. A few people cheered at that, which made him pause and smile. "After that, we'll play one called Fever. I played it one time with a friend of mine named Wynn Martin, who happens to be here tonight. We had a lot of fun with it, and I'd like to do it again if she could come join us on stage."
"Whatchu goin' do if she don't come?" the drummer yelled out, teasing Chris and making everyone laugh.
Chris put the mic up to his mouth and squinted around the restaurant as if searching for me. "I guess imma hafta sing it myself if she don’t come," he said in an extremely reluctant, silly way.
He knew me well enough to know I would never leave him hanging. I had performed with him at least a dozen times in the past, and as far as he was concerned, inviting me on stage was something I'd be thankful for—a sure bet.
Everyone sitting near me at the booth started nudging me and carrying on as if his invitation was the most exciting thing that could have happened. I wasn't ready for this yet, but I made myself do it for fear of embarrassing Chris.
I smiled and waved to him and he faked a little swoon from center stage as if he was thankful I had agreed. "This next one's called So What," he mumbled with a little smile before hanging the mic in its stand and making his way back to the piano.
I had approximately five minutes to get myself together and make my way to the stage. Marcus's words came back to me, threatening to shake my confidence. I started thinking maybe I could go up there and tell Chris I had laryngitis or something. The only saving grace was that I knew the song Fever forward and backward. It fit my voice well and was one I had performed tons of times.
It was still extremely difficult to stand up and walk over there. I said a little prayer while I was on my way, asking for the strength to get through this. I made it to the edge of the stage just as the Miles Davis song was ending.
Chris winked at me as I carried the mic and stand to the center of the stage. I considered carrying the mic by itself, but I loved using a stand so that I could fidget and gesture about while I was singing. Those types of things had always been part of my stage presence in the past. I thought about changing it up since I felt like I'd been changed in general, but my hands just wouldn't cooperate with leaving the mic stand at the edge of the stage. I was smiling at myself as I took my position in the center of the stage and placed the mic into its clip. I cleared my throat before looking at Chris as I spoke into the mic.
"I wasn't expecting to sing tonight," I said, my voice coming out more tentatively than I expected. I cleared my throat again as I smiled and squinted into the stage lights. It had only been a couple of weeks since my last gig, but it felt like a lifetime. Being up there in front of an audience seemed somehow foreign and new. "So, I didn't have my lemon-water."
The crowd responded to my dry sense of humor with a round of laughs that made me feel slightly better.
I
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