Who Needs Mistletoe – Julie Roberts
Year 6
He just didn't understand why she wasn't there yet. They were supposed to meet for the show at 10:00 pm. He knew her shift got over at 9, so where was she?
He pulled out his cell phone to text his wife.
Jackson: Where are you? Are you alright? Stuck at the hospital?
He got an almost immediate text back.
April: "Not far from you. See you soon."
He took a second glance at his phone. It was a weird way to answer his question, but at least she was ok. Her quirks weren't new to him. The hostess found him while he was waiting. "Mr. Avery? Your table is ready."
She guided him toward their table, near the stage. April had wanted him to meet her there for the show and made the reservation. He liked coming to these things. They discovered a poetry slam that they liked to go to on Sunday nights when they had the time and an available sitter. It was a date night for them. He wasn't even sure what this was. It wasn't poetry slam night but it was at the same jazz club they frequented on date night.
The host walked on the stage, the lights dimmed and it began. "Good evening ladies and gentleman! Thank you for coming to part two of our open mic night! I'm your host, Evan Williams. While we do have a set list for the first part of the show, you've now reached open mic. Completely open. And all of these performers are first time performers who have volunteered, so please be kind to them!"
Jackson swallowed. He didn't know they had paid to watch people karaoke. It was outside his comfort zone.
The first performer was great and sang Whitney Houston's song I Have Nothing…he wished April had made it on time to see it. She was amazing. It was a shame because at this hour on a Tuesday night the club was mostly empty but he had never seen anything like it at an open event mic like this. There were two more performers after her and he still saw no signs of April.
The host came back on the stage to introduce the last singer. "Our last performer is Dr. April Kepner. Since we're only a few days away from Christmas, she'll be singing Who Needs Mistletoe, which she wrote. Please give her a hand. And thanks for coming everyone! We'll see you next week. Same time, same please."
Jackson sat up straighter, put his drink down on the table and panicked. He had no idea. She had never sang anywhere before even though he tried to get her to a million times before. He had no idea until after they were even married but she had a voice. An amazing voice. It was smoky and raw but in a good way, just sexy. And she knew how to carry a tune. He could never get enough of it. Whenever he heard her singing, it killed him. She sang while she cooked and while she rocked his children to sleep and other times in between. He knew the song she was about to sing because he'd heard her singing it around the house. What he didn't know was that she wrote it.
Baby, you can be my Santa Claus
And I'll come sit on your lap
Whisper what I really want
What do you think about that?
Even her outfit turned him on at the moment. She was wearing a tight and high waisted black skirt with a red sweater tucked in and black tights. Her high heels were doing something for him too. Her hair was curled and pulled into a low bun. She had dark, smoky make up on and he could honestly say he couldn't remember a time when she looked hotter.
Cause I want to be naughty
Hey now don't that sound nice
This is the season for giving
Are you in a giving mood tonight?
Don't want egg nog
Don't want snow
Lights on a house or a tree that glows
Who needs mistletoe?
I'd rather be under you
When she sang she looked at him but she also performed. Not only was the way she sang hot, but the way she held the microphone got him going too. She was so good and her self-confidence had never been higher. If someone would have asked him ten years ago if he ever thought April Kepner would be performing a self-written song for him at a bar he would have laughed in their face.
A few moments later the song ended.
I'd rather be with you.
The ten people that were in the bar clapped and hollered and cheered like Jackson had never heard such a small crowd do before. There were even two guys in the back whistling, which was maybe the one part he wasn't that thrilled about. But he was still gloriously happy for her.
She didn't say anything. She just sat next to him and took a sip of his beer. "What did you think?" She asked shyly. All of her confidence nearly gone.
He shook his head. "You… were... amazing."
April tilted her head to the side just a tad. "Are you just saying that?"
He shook his head again. "Babe, you got a standing ovation. Whistles. You wrote that song? I didn't know that?"
She nodded. "For you."
Shocked still, he asked "What made you decide to do it finally though? All of that confidence… I mean… Babe, that was hot as hell."
April scooted over to his chair and nestled in his lap. The bar was mostly empty now anyway. She kissed his a path up his neck to his ear, rubbing her other hand on the rough side of his face to feel his scruff. "Take me home."
He groaned, knowing perfectly well what was on her mind because it was on his too. "I might not take you home yet, but you're leaving with me."
Thank you for reading another one of my stories! I've had such a good time writing them that I find myself just waiting for the next day so I can post again. I've always thought there were more layers to April's personality that we haven't got to see yet and I thought this would be a good fit.
*April did NOT right the song Under The Mistletoe by Julie Roberts and neither did I. It was just a detail added for the story.