Page 50 of Not Exactly a Small-Town Romance

I have to stay hands-free, so there’s no surprising her. “Siri,” I say, “Play ‘Ya Got Trouble’ fromThe Music Man.”

“I love it!” Kelsey shouts.

We both sing along for a while, but then she goes quiet, I’m assuming so she can think about her follow-up.

Finally, she says, “And the young men in the town need a total makeover! Siri, play ‘I’ll Make a Man Out of You’ fromMulan.”

She went Disney on me.

Well played.

Her fake-baritone singing along with Donny Osmond is hilarious, and I feel my cheeks starting to get weary from smiling already.

How to follow that one up?

But then I have it.

This time, I mute myself before verbally cuing up the song.

As Mulan comes to its dramatic conclusion, I unmute to say, “But the women need no changing!” Then I punch play on my song.

When it starts, Kelsey lets out a squeal. “I know that’s right!”

She doesn’t know every word, but she sings the best parts from theWest Side Storytune: “I feel PRETTY!”

When it’s done, there’s a pause, like she’s trying to figure out her next move.

“Do you bow to my magnificent prowess?” I ask.

But then her next song begins, and I feel my throat tighten.

Her voice is in narrator mode. “But the pretty woman all fall for the manly men, as long as they’re not from Pitchfork, Arizona.” It’s followed by the opening notes of “Hopelessly Devoted to You” fromGrease.

She knows every word to this one.

With an ache I scarcely recognize, I long to follow up with “You’re the One That I Want.”

But I can’t do that.

So I bring the tone back around, and the minute Olivia Newton-John has sung the last note, I immediately punch up “I’m Just Ken” from theBarbiemovie. “And the men aren’t worthy,” I say.

But this doesn’t have the effect I thought it would. We’re not even a minute into Ken’s lament when Kelsey’s blinker turns on, and she pulls into a scenic overlook.

I slow down and pull in beside her.

“Are you okay?” I ask on the phone, but she kills the call and gets out of her car.

I stop the music.What’s going on?

The heat outside is oppressive, but the wind gusts make it manageable.

Kelsey walks past the brushy clearing to stand at the edge of the canyon, looking over the massive geological wonder, her arms crossed tightly over her stomach.

“Kelsey?”

She doesn’t turn to me. “Is that what you think of yourself?”

For a second, I don’t know what she means. Then I realize, it’s the song.

---