Page 22 of After Midnight

Ashton nodded, waiting for me to continue. He must’ve sensed that my attraction to Dominic went beyond looks. “Dominic also seems like a genuinely good person. Like, he wouldn’t use me to get something he wanted, not like Rodney. But, you know, he has his little sisters, and they’re very important to him. I think he sort of raises them.”

“And you aren’t ready to be a parent?”

The question took me by surprise. I hadn’t voiced my concerns about that outside of my own thoughts. “Do I look like I’m ready to be a parent?”

Ashton laughed. “Dude, you look like you can barely take care of yourself.”

I smiled at that, appreciating his blatant honesty. But when I pictured Dominic with his sisters, the girls snuggled in their beds while he read them a bedtime story, something shifted inside me. “If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell him?”

Ashton looked hesitant, then nodded.

“Watching Dominic care for his sisters, reading to them, tucking them in, something about that…” I paused, searching for the right words. “It’s hard to explain, but it’s like a switch flipped on inside me. I went from feeling amused at spending a date night being around two little kids to suddenly feeling protective of all three of them. Like, I wanted to help him take care of the girls.” I looked across the bar top at Ashton, whose face now wore an odd expression. “I know what you’re thinking. I’m codependent or an idiot or something. I think that’s why I hadn’t texted him since our date. I don’t know how to deal with all this, um…”

“Commitment?” Ashton asked, and I almost spit out the beer I’d just swigged across the bar top.

The word pulled me to my senses. “No! I just met the guy and we haven’t even kissed yet, not that I didn’t try,” I said, that last part under my breath.

“Listen, kid, I’ve got twenty years on you.”

“More like thirty,” I corrected and got an unamused glare in return.

“From someone who has been around awhile, here’s a bit of advice. Feelings aren’t something you can control, they just happen. When you develop feelings for someone, don’t be quick to dismiss them. I’m not saying you should go profess your undying love for him or anything. Don’t scare the man off. But if you feel about him the way you just told me you do, that’s something special, something that doesn’t come around everyday. Hell, some people never experience it. If you let that go without exploring it, you might regret it for the rest of your life.”

I looked at the man in front of me for a long moment, and I knew then he wasn’t just talking about me. He was sharing a personal experience. A painful lesson learned firsthand.

I nodded, not daring to ask him any details for fear he’d shut down and end this new connection between us.

“So, you think if I wait, he’ll give me a chance?”

“No idea,” Ashton said, and I could tell he was shaking off the intimate moment and putting his prickly personality back in place. “But in this case, good thingsmightcome to those who wait.”

I sensed the conversation was over and changed the subject. “Okay, so tell me again how much you liked my set.”

Ashton snorted and resumed stocking the bar.

That night, I rocked the early crowd. Nearly every joke hit, and the laughs I earned were just as plentiful as Ashton’s. Pulling my fathers into the discussion, including their former hairstyles, fashion choices, and the old stories they’d allowed me to share, made both the older and younger audience members howl. I’d also brought along an eighties hair band wig I’d purchased at a Halloween store, and I ended my set by putting it on and headbanging my way off the stage to Guns N’ Roses. The entire crowd erupted, screaming and yelling like I was actually in the band. In that moment, I truly felt like a rock star.

As I walked past Ashton, he clapped my shoulder just like he’d done after my rehearsal earlier. “You’ve got talent, young man, and screw you for making me have to follow that.”

I chuckled as I made my way to the back of the club, settling in to watch Ashton’s set from a table in the bar area. His compliment was a major confidence booster. Not that I doubted my performance skills, but I had begun to seriously question ifI’d be able to connect with my audiences. If I couldn’t do that, I’d never make it as a stand-up comedian.

I’d had a privileged childhood, and I’d known that even as a kid. Having supportive parents who loved me unconditionally was a blessing all its own, let alone being wealthy. I’d attended public school, but most of my classmates came from money too. My best friend was one of the exceptions, though, and he often pointed out I had the white privilege thing down to a science.

If it hadn’t been for him, I probably would’ve never seen that about myself. It’s one of the reasons I felt determined to make a name for myself without my parents’ money leading the way.

I really wanted to make it as a stand-up comic on my own merits.

Tonight was notable for another reason too. The club’s owner, Mr. Hallsworth, commonly referred to among the performers as Mr. Ballsworth, wanted to meet with all of us after the show. He had a reputation as a ballbuster who pulled no punches in running his club. Even in my relatively short time working there, I found the name quite fitting.

Ballsworth only did so when he planned to reorganize the lineup. As I’d seen happen, if you didn’t attend a group meeting, you didn’t perform, so everyone usually stuck around all evening.

I hadn’t watched Rodney perform in a while. To be honest, I’d completely forgotten about his timeslot stealing trickery. Just as Ashton finished his set, rounding out the early show, Rodney plopped himself down at my table. When he gave me a nasty look, I couldn’t help but smile.

“You crossed a line last week,” he said, sounding more whiny than accusatory.

“Dude,youcrossed the line, and I just called you on it. Don’t get your panties in a wad over the mess you created.”

I was about to get up when Ashton and three other performers took a seat at the table.

---