EPILOGUE
Everything feels like a memory in the snow, but in the sun, everything feels new.
The day of Dolly’s Open Mic Night is unseasonably sunny and warm, and it feels like a sign, a good one, when I wake up to the day’s brightness.
In the end, Daddy probably helped spread the word about Open Mic Night more than anyone else. I asked him to hang up flyers, and he plastered the whole library with them, invited all the librarians, and told them to bring friends. Mom helped too, inviting some of her friends and even a few clients. I know my dad is going so above and beyond because he’s trying to redeem himself, and I won’t pretend that I’m not taking full advantage of his desire to make things right. Still, a part of me knows he can’t help how he feels about Ms. Novak, the same way I can’t help how I feel about Dom.
Willa tells the softball team, and Jase and Mase rope in most of the soccer kids. I tell choice people in my classes, and I put up flyers in the library, and even one right on the door of my locker.
So when Willa, Sydney, and I head to Dolly’s around six to see if there are any last-minute things we need to do, the dining room is packed, and there’s a line out the door. People are ordering small plates, and Dom is getting nervous they won’t have enough food to last the night since the program doesn’t even officially start for another hour.
“This is…unexpected,” I say.
“It’s so awesome, though,” Sydney squeals, flipping her soft curls to one side of her face.
“Can we do anything to help?” I ask Pop when I find him.
“If you wouldn’t mind hostessing—” he says, and Sydney cuts him off.
“Cleo will hostess, I’ll help take orders. Willa will handle the door. We should have charged a cover!” Sydney says. Pop just grins, but I can tell he’s relieved.
“I told you it would be great,” I whisper as I head to the hostess stand.
By the time seven hits, the diner is standing room only. I have a list of about ten people waiting to get tables and order food. Willa started taking names of people who actually want to perform, and she has a list that’s almost a page long.
I ask Sydney to take over hostessing for me while I walk up to the mic to do a short introduction.
“Thanks so much for coming out, everyone. Dolly’s is such an important pillar of this community that we wanted to reintroduce this place to some of our newest neighbors. We hope you enjoy the performances, and if this is an event everyone likes, we’ll bring it back next month.”
Everyone applauds.
“Without further ado, I’d like to welcome our first guest.”
Mason comes on stage and I hand over the mic. “I’m Mase. And I’m going to try some jokes out on you guys, if that’s cool.”
My eyes widen, and when I rejoin Sydney at the hostess stand, she covers her mouth. “Did you know he was going to do that?” I whisper to her.
She shakes her head. “No. But I bet Jase did.”
I watch Mason for the first few jokes. The first one falls a little flat, but by the third one, he seems to have found his rhythm. The room is warming up and so is he. By the fifth one almost everyone laughs.
Dom hasn’t left the kitchen, so I sneak back to check on him.
“You okay in here?” I ask, and he nods, but he’s sweaty, and the line cooks are too. I can tell they’re working hard, and I might just be bothering him.
“When do you take a break?” I ask.
“In like twenty minutes,” he hollers over the roar of clanging pots and pans, the heat of moving bodies and fire.
“Come find me,” I say, and just before I turn away he looks up at me and grins.
“I will.”
When I step back into the dining room, I head in Sydney and Willa’s direction. But before I reach them, I see that Willa and Sydney are holding hands. They haven’t exactly told me what their deal is yet, and I don’t want to force them into anything before they’re ready.
I stand off to the side by myself to give Sydney and Willa a moment, and as I scan the rest of the room, I’m surprised to see a few seniors standing in a corner near the makeshift stage. Valeria is with them, and when our eyes meet, she smiles.
“Hey, so a bunch of us signed up. Sorry in advance if there’s a lot of singing in a row,” Valeria says. The crowd starts clapping. They don’t mind. She steps up to the mic and says, “My name is Valeria, and I’m going to sing one of my favorite songs for you.”
Her voice is like butter—melty and warm and kind of guiltily decadent. It sounds like something you’d want to eat in the middle of the night. I close my eyes and sink into the sound and I understand in an instant the difference between high school talent and the kind of singing that can make it big. If she wants to, Valeria could be famous.
I spot Ms. Novak just as Valeria heads offstage. I asked her to come, but I wasn’t sure she’d show up. The crowd is clapping and whistling, and I see Novak whisper something to a guy standing beside her. It’s my dad. Mom isn’t here, which I’m grateful for, but seeing them together still rubs me the wrong way. To everyone else, even kids from school, they’re just two friends. But knowing that there’s more simmering below their surfaces makes something inside me turn red hot.
Before I can get too upset, though, Dom comes up behind me and whispers into my ear. “How’s it going out here?” he asks.
“Pretty good, but look,” I say, tipping my head in the direction of Ms. Novak and my dad. “That’s pissing me off,” I tell him.
“Cleo,” he says. He steps in front of me and turns my head to face him so I’ll stop looking at my dad and Ms. Novak. “They’re adults. You can’t stop them from talking. You can’t really stop them from doing anything, and the only one you’re hurting right now is yourself.”
He throws an arm across my shoulders. “Take it from me. Parents never do exactly what you want them to. You might as well get over that now. Plus, didn’t you tell Novak to come to hear your monologue?”
I nod, and pout for a few more minutes. But then Jase comes over and starts cracking stupid jokes, and Mason hangs out too. I congratulate him on his comedy set and he blushes. Sydney and Willa walk over, cheeks blushy and hands still clasped, and I let myself be swept up in the music and the company. I let myself be grateful everything is going so well.
I hadn’t told anyone but Dom, but the monologue I wrote is so intensely personal that I’m starting to get cold feet. The second there’s a bit of a lull in the steady stream of performers, Dom looks at me.