Unexpectedly, Milo - Matthew Dicks [136]
“Sort of. Do you have the CD?”
“It’s in the car.”
“Go get it. I’ll wait for you here.”
Emma’s solution was Hooligan’s, the hotel’s restaurant and bar where she had just gone to find a restroom. Though the establishment was not equipped for karaoke (no karaoke player or screen to project the words of the song that was being sung), there was a small stage and sound system set up for live entertainment on the weekends. Just twenty minutes before closing, the place was nearly empty, with a couple of businessmen nursing drinks at the bar and a family of four occupying a booth near the stage. Emma had gotten the manager to agree to allow Milo to sing one song, claiming that it was their anniversary. She had said that five years ago on this very night, she had heard Milo sing onstage in a karaoke bar and had instantly fallen in love. She told the manager, a man with a handlebar mustache and overgrown eyebrows who looked like he should have been herding cattle rather than managing a restaurant, that Milo had planned on reenacting the scene for her tonight, but they were surprised and disappointed to discover that the bar where they had met was no longer in business. She asked if he could sing just one song, and the manager, who asked Emma to call him William, had agreed.
“All set,” William said to Milo, pointing at the stage. “The microphone is on. Gina will press play when you point to her. Okay?”
“Thanks,” Emma said. “This means a lot.”
“No problem,” he said, though Milo thought he should’ve tipped a ten-gallon hat and said, Don’t mention it, miss. It ain’t nothing.
“Emma,” Milo said once William had returned to his position behind the bar. “I don’t need to do this. I can probably make it until tomorrow. This isn’t like the jelly or the ice cubes. I can usually hold this one off for a while.”
“But why should you? It’s all set up. Now go on. Let’s hear it. What’s the song again?”
“‘Ninety-nine Luftballons.’ But I sing the original. In German. You won’t understand the words. God, this is embarrassing.”
“Oh, yeah. A girl sang that song, right?”
“Yes. Her name’s Nena. She’s German. She sang it in English too, but I have to sing the German version.”
“Are you going to sing it like a girl?” Emma asked, unable to hold back the broad smile that was nearly dividing her face in two. “Do you try to sound like her? With a high voice and all?”
“You suck. You know that? You really do.”
“Whatever. Just shut up and sing.”
As Milo removed the microphone from the stand and looked out into the restaurant, he could see that the two businessmen and the family of four had all turned in order to face the stage and watch his performance. Sitting just three feet from the edge of the stage, in chairs that had been dragged over from a nearby table, were Emma and Eugene, staring up at him and hardly blinking. Though Milo would’ve loved to walk off the stage and head for his room, proximity to satisfaction once again had its grip on him, making any hope of turning back impossible. Though he knew that he could’ve held off this demand for another twenty-four hours without much difficulty, now that he was on the stage, ready to perform, he was nearly bursting with the pressure and anticipation of relief.
It wasn’t until Emma and Eugene began dancing that he finally relaxed and allowed himself to enjoy this odd and unforgettable moment.
chapter 32
“How are you feeling?” They had just passed over the George Washington Bridge and would be entering Connecticut in less than an hour depending on traffic, and Milo knew that the closer they got to her home state,