A Nashville Collection by Rachel Hauck Page B

come.” She merges on to the highway.
    â€œNo, home to Ashwood Avenue. Birdie’s.”
    Skyler looks at me in the rearview mirror. “Sing karaoke.”
    She ain’t the boss of me. I reach up and grab her by the hair.
    â€œAck! Robin, what are you doing?” Her car swerves against the white center line.
    â€œTake me home.” I tug a little tighter while Blaire hovers against the passenger door, clutching her purse.
    â€œNo.” Skyler grips the wheel with both hands, watching the road down the slope of her nose.
    â€œDo it.” I twist and yank again.
    Skyler winces. “No.”
    Blaire’s white as cotton. “Robin, she’s going to wreck. Let her go.”
    â€œTell her to take me home.”
    Speeding down I-65, we argue. Blaire digs in her purse. “I’ll give up Zoloft if you sing at karaoke.”
    I let go of Skyler. “What? Are you serious?” Finally, something interesting on the bargaining table. “Can you do that?”
    Skyler rubs the back of her neck. “You pulled out all my little hairs. You’re so gonna pay for this.”
    Blaire hesitates to answer, then nods. Once. “Yes.”
    I’m bamboozled. “How?”
    â€œA little at a time, yes. My doctor’s been advising me to wean myself off—”
    â€œAnd me,” Skyler interjects.
    â€œHe wants me to take a milder med for awhile.”
    I slouch against the Beemer’s leather seat. “I don’t know . . .”
    â€œGood grief, Robin, what’s it gonna take? Do you realize what Blaire’s put on the table?”
    â€œAll right.” I sigh. “I’ll do it.”
    Here’s the inherent problems with singing karaoke, in my humble opinion. People. Smoke-filled room. People. No rehearsal. People.
    Even for porch singing, sometimes Granddaddy would rehearse us a little before the evening started.
    By the time we walk into On the Rocks, I’m scareder than the devil at a revival meeting. My mind is frantic for an excuse to run. Blaire and her high-price offer. Shoot fire.
    Skyler drops her arm over my shoulder. “We’re going to walk through those doors to a new, braver you.”
    My brain tells my lips to grin, but they refuse. Isn’t it funny how God put people like Arizona and Skyler in my life for the proverbial kick in the pants?
    â€œYou know what I used to do?” Blaire says softly. “I used to pretend I was queen of the world and everyone in the room was my loyal, doting subject.”
    â€œThere you go,” Skyler says. “Think beautiful Robin McAfee.”
    â€œRight,” I snort and finger the tangled ends of my hair.
    Blaire taps her watch. “We’re wasting time. If we don’t get Robin signed up, she won’t have time to sing. The regulars will have all the spots.”
    â€œThere are regulars?” I walk with Blaire to the door, Skyler’s hand gentle on my back.
    â€œOh, yeah.”
    On the Rocks is a wide-open place with a high, exposed beam ceiling where track lighting shoots blue and greens hues across the karaoke stage. The spacious ambiance gives me room to breathe, and I relax a little.
    Blaire flashes a smile over her shoulder. “You’re going to have fun, Robin. Really. And . . . sorry I was so cold before. You know—at the Frothy Monkey.”
    I smile. “No problem.”
    â€œReally, there’s no excuse.”
    I touch her arm. “We all have our moments. So, how do I go about picking a song?”
    Blaire flashes me her beautiful smile and shows me how to pick a song, which I do, and jot it on a piece of paper. I hand it to the DJ, Mandy.
    She looks at my choice. “LeAnn Rimes?”
    â€œâ€˜I Need You.’” I point to the paper.
    â€œEver sing karaoke before?”
    â€œNope,” I choke.
    She nods. “Okay, then. When you’re up, I’ll walk around, calling your name. Take the mike and