Jude has heard of it, either—and Ari sighs dramatically when she hears this.
“It’s so good. I can’t understand why it wasn’t a single.”
“I look forward to hearing it,” says Quint—and I think he means it.
“Are you going to sing?” Ari asks him.
Quint guffaws. “Nope. There is zero chance of that happening.”
“Come on,” says Ari. “You can’t be that bad.”
“And even if you are,” I add, “it isn’t about being good, necessarily. It’s about letting go of your inhibitions for a few minutes.” I drop my arms to my side and give them a shake, a charade of “loosening up.”
“Okay,” says Quint, giving me a sidelong look. “Then what song are you singing?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Nothing.”
“Aha.”
“Anyway, this is a work meeting.” I nudge my notebook toward him.
“Ah, the Prudence idea journal. I should have known I’d be seeing this again.” He starts flipping through pages, but then Carlos arrives to take his drink order. “Oh, what was that thing you guys were drinking last time? With the cherries?”
“A Shirley Temple?” says Ari.
“Yeah.” Quint snaps his fingers. “I’ll have a Shirley Temple, please.”
“You got it,” says Carlos. He shoots a sly, semi-curious look at me, and I know he’s wondering whether this is my boyfriend. But thankfully he doesn’t say anything. I don’t think I could keep from looking mortified if he did.
As Carlos walks away, Quint turns to Jude. “So you said you guys used to do karaoke as a family?”
“When we were kids,” says Jude. “But it’s been a while.”
Quint’s eyes twinkle. “Maybe you guys should do a duet or something. For old times’ sake.”
“Oh!” says Ari, clapping her hands. “How about ‘Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around’ by Stevie Nicks and Tom Petty? I love that song. And you’d be so good!”
“Ew, gross,” I say, at the same time Jude sticks his thumb at me. “Sister, remember?”
Ari deflates. “Oh. Well…” Her eyes light up again. “Maybe Pru and Quint should do it!”
“No, no, no,” says Quint. “Count me out.” He glances at me. “I wasn’t kidding when I said that the idea of doing karaoke is pretty much my worst nightmare.”
A waitress brings his beverage, all fizzy and pink.
I pull my own glass toward me, a soda, slick with condensation, and take a sip from the rim.
“There’s nothing we can say to get you to go up there?” says Ari. “You might like it?”
“Nothing,” says Quint. “I have many enviable talents, but singing is not one of them.”
“Me, either,” I say.
Quint gives me a look. “Maybe not, but you were pretty cute up there all the same.”
I go still. In fact, we all go still. Except Quint, who picks up his spoon and starts trying to fish out one of the cherries from his glass. His tone was casual, but now he’s staring at that cherry like it’s made of solid gold.
“Thanks,” I say. “That’s nice of you to say. If also faintly condescending.”
He spins toward me, horrified. “It was a compliment!”
“And I said thank you.” I grin to let him know I’m teasing. I feel bright, like I’ve been lit up on the inside. Cute. He thinks I’m cute … at least when I sing. My heart is tap-dancing in my chest. Maybe I should do another song tonight after all. “Cute is nice. It’s not great. I mean, you could have said that I was radiant. Or…” I search for another adjective. “Fetching. But cute is okay. Could be worse.”
“‘Fetching’?” he says slowly. “Honestly, Prudence, there are times when I wonder if you might be a time-traveler from a different century.”
I laugh. “The old-fashioned name gave it away?”
“Maybe a little,” says Quint.
Jude loudly clears his throat.
Quint and I both startle and look over at Jude and Ari. They’re staring at us—Jude looks mildly embarrassed. Ari has a hand pressed over her mouth, but she can’t conceal her impish smile.
Jude gestures at a table that just opened up across from our booth. “Should Ari and I give you some privacy or…?”
I flush. Quint laughs, but it’s tinged with discomfort.
“Welcome to Karaoke Tuesday at Encanto!” Trish howls into the microphone, and even though most of the restaurant patrons ignore her and continue on with their conversations, the four of us are more than happy to give her our full attention. Like last time, Trish explains how karaoke night works, then kicks things off by singing Shania Twain’s “Man! I Feel Like a Woman.”
She’s good. Really good. Her voice is powerful and raw, her presence hypnotizing. At one point I