Page 80 of Marriage is a Shore Thing
I don’t want to make a habit of hopping onstage, and I’m not certain I can fully carry the falsetto in this song, but I know one thing—this spectacle should keep the Wilks Beach rumor mill buzzing for weeks.
That, and Van will absolutely love it.
Which is why I ignore the angry hornets in my belly and tack up another balloon. Van’s delighted smile will make all of this worth it.
I climb down from the step ladder and retrieve my black stilettos as Cliff and his friend, Leo, come by with a curt nod, telling me the last little surprise is in place. The plan is to hide until my song comes on. In the meantime, the balloon arch will stay up, but the banner—and the secret Cliff is helping with—won’t come down until the end.
I check my phone for the time and see a message from Van.
Van
I hope Brynn is feeling better. Can’t wait to see you later. I missed you today.
When I got home from class earlier, he was still out surfing, so I quickly came up with a cover story about Brynn needing some girl time. I haven’t seen my husband since the breathless kiss we shared in the hallway after celebrating our victory last night.
My grin has a light of its own. A normal person would text back ‘me neither’ and ‘I missed you too’—both of which arecompletelytrue—but that’s not how our relationship works.
Geneva
It’s been less than twenty-four hours. Why are you so obsessed with me?
I laugh when Van answers right away.
Van
I can’t help that you’re magnetic.
My fingers type a comeback when another message pings.
Van
And I can’t stop thinking about your lips and how much I want them on mine again.
I blink, pressing my phone to my sequined bodice as a flush burns up my neck.
That…escalated quickly.
My text message alert sounds as I try to slow my erratic breathing.
Van
I’m up next. I’ll see you later, darlin’.
My shoulders slide back as the corner of my mouth lifts with devious delight. Van might have surprised me with that heated message, but he has no idea what’s in store for him.
I haven’t anxiously waited in the wings in years, and to be fair, I’m not really doing that now. I’m hiding in the storage closet off the side door to the bathrooms to keep from being spotted. A bucket of dirty mop water keeps rolling toward my shin as I listen to the Jimmy Buffet cover band start “Cheeseburger in Paradise.”
Elegant, I know.
The song I’ve requested and the black balloon arch above the stage doesn’t really vibe with the group of middle-aged dads in Hawaiian shirts currently occupying the stage, but they nailedthe gritty sound of The Darkness in our impromptu rehearsal earlier.
I bounce nervously along to the boppy song as I wait. When the audience sings along about preferred condiment choices, I duck my head and edge along the crowd until I’m behind the edge of the balloon arch. Izzy waits with a microphone, and I snatch it and stride onto stage while Dale jumps right into the upbeat guitar riff intro of “I Believe in a Thing Called Love.”
The crowd hushes in shocked silence as I start the lyrics without missing a beat. Even though most of them knew I was here to sing, I doubt anyone expected I would have this kind of stage presence after avoiding the limelight like corrosive acid for half a decade. The second I find Van and send a polished fingernail in his direction, the audience explodes.
The chorus flows from me as the band and I really find our rhythm, the hoots and hollers from the crowd nearly deafening. But all I can see is Van’s dimpled smile beaming back at me. He’s shaking his head slightly, like he’s not sure this isn’t some crazy fever dream.
I grin into the mic, strutting across the stage before the next verse. By the time we’re ready to head into the bridge, I encourage the audience to clap along with big, exaggerated movements. Van bursts into laughter, his eyes the brightest I’ve ever seen them. Pure joy vibrates through my body along with the thrumming from Victor’s bass. As the song comes to a close, I even play a little air guitar, hamming it up with Dale. Once the last chord hums as cymbals crash behind me, the sign falls open while Cliff and Leo fire t-shirt cannons full of black biodegradable confetti into the air.
