The Suite Spot (Beck Sisters #2)(29)

“Yes,” I say. “It’s called Little Fish.”

“That’s adorable,” Tori says as the group sips and nods their approval. Even Pat, who doesn’t seem to like much of anything, says, “Gotta hand it to him. The kid knows how to make a good beer.”

I’m so excited for Mason that I want to text him with the rave reviews, but Avery hops up from her seat. “I’m sure you’re all wondering what I have planned for tonight, and it was tough following Rosemary’s boozy milkshakes last month, but if you’ll follow me…”

She strides across the living room and disappears through the tinsel curtain. The rest of us follow, and on the other side of the archway, we find her dining room transformed into a karaoke bar. There’s another tinsel curtain as the backdrop for a tiny stage, a microphone stand, and a karaoke machine. It’s not a cheap setup either.

“Welcome to No Limits Karaoke,” Avery says, holding up a straw fedora. “I’ve put all your names in this hat. You’ll each take a name and choose the song that person will sing tonight. No passes. No exceptions. Not even you, Pat.”

Avery makes a circuit of the room and when she gets to me, I draw a name from the hat. Rosemary. Oh God, how am I going to choose a song for a stranger who also happens to be the oldest person in the room? My panic must show on my face because Courtney leans over and says, “It’s okay. This is how book club works. We all signed on for this.”

“Avery never mentioned any of this to me.”

Courtney laughs. “First rule of book club.”

“You have five minutes to choose your songs,” Avery says, distributing a list of available songs. It’s not a binder, like at karaoke lounges, but there are still a lot of potentially embarrassing options. “And in the spirit of being welcoming, Rachel gets to sing first.”

Back before I had Maisie, my friends and I used to go to a karaoke lounge in Fort Lauderdale and choose the most annoying songs we could find. The serious karaoke singers hated us, but it’s made me bulletproof. There’s nothing these ladies can pick that will throw me. Problem is, I don’t want to choose anything too physically strenuous for Rosemary. But eventually a fun song jumps out at me. One she might not know. I write it down on the paper and Avery comes around to collect them.

“Okay, Rachel, you’re up,” she says.

I step up behind the microphone and study the eight women looking at me, wondering which of them chose the song I’m about to sing.

“Your song”—Avery presses a button—“is this.”

The synchronized beats of “Holding Out for a Hero” fill the room. Thankfully, it’s the original—not the Shrek 2 version I’ve heard too many times to count—and I know it by heart. I don’t have an amazing voice, but this song leaves so much room for showmanship.

“Bold choice,” I say into the microphone. “But I have a toddler. I could sing this in my sleep.”

The women laugh as I launch into the song, and for the next four minutes I’m Bonnie Tyler, stalking the stage and clutching my chest. As the song fades away, I take a deep, dramatic bow. They all clap wildly and someone even whistles.

“I never expected you for a ringer,” Avery says.

“Yeah, well, you never told me book club might include karaoke.”

Pat goes next and, up there onstage—wearing mom jeans and New Balance sneakers—she surprises me by singing “You Need to Calm Down” without needing the lyrics, and it’s a complete delight. Courtney belts out “Jolene,” Diane blushes deep pink as she giggles her way through the dirty parts of “You Oughta Know,” and Gail manages a surprisingly good rendition of “Don’t Stop Believin’.” Virginia shocks everyone when she knows all the words to “Livin’ on a Prayer,” Tori has us clapping along as she sings “Hey There Delilah,” and Avery channels Kurt Cobain with “Smells Like Teen Spirit.”

Finally Rosemary takes the stage, using her cane for leverage as she steps up.

When the familiar strumming begins, I hold my breath. She leans toward the microphone and says, “Anyway, here’s ‘Wonderwall.’”

We all break down laughing, and tears are still trickling from the corners of my eyes as Rosemary completely nails the song.

Some of us sing a second song of our choice, and Avery and I team up for “Summer Nights” from the Grease soundtrack. We drink, talk, and laugh a lot. Even though I don’t know their in-jokes and local references, I feel included. Like I’m part of their community.

“How are you getting along out there with Mason?” Rosemary asks as we return to the living room.

“He’s, um—kind of reserved, but we’re getting things done.”

“He wasn’t always like that,” she says. “The Brown family has owned that property since the early days of the island, and when he was a boy, Mason used to spend the summers with his grandparents. He and some of the other kids from the island, including Daniel, were as wild as could be.”

“Wild is not the word I’d use for him.”

She offers a soft smile and a knowing look. “Well, he’s had a difficult time.”

“I know.”

“Keep that in mind,” Rosemary says before letting out a small yawn. “And now I think it’s time for me to head on home.”