Chapter 12

Within a few weeks, our persistent begging was joined by several other regulars, including Linda. If you have ever tried to say "no" to Linda Belcher once she has an idea in her head…Well, it was enough for Joe to rent one and turn Friday evenings into karaoke nights. Linda frequently took the mic with a glass of red wine in her other hand and belted out Whitney Houston songs. All the Belchers would walk over, at some point or another and participate. And once word spread around town, Fridays could get packed by 9 pm.

I tried to keep my repertoire varied. Journey, Neil Diamond, Queen- anything that would get other people joining in. Then once I had enough in me, I let out my inner diva. Out came Celine Dion, Elvis, Lady Gaga, Dolly Parton. Louise was constant- only Cyndi Lauper and only once she was at least two drinks in.

I was feeling brave and a little reckless. Could I get her to sing with me? "C'mon Lulu, sing something else. Sing with me!" I wasn't going to let her barfly all night. With a bit of tugging she followed me onstage and saw the name of the song cued up on the lyric monitor screen.

"Really?" I simply grinned the smile of the tipsy and handed her a microphone. We took turns singing verses to "Sex and Candy" by Marcy Playground. It was a guilty pleasure of mine, which Louise knew. She would roll her eyes at me as we sang together.

"Who's that lounging… in… my…chair?" I tried to grab her close and have her dance with me. She did for a minute but then she stiffened up like she was in pain. I let her go and finished the last chorus. Once we were done, I grabbed her hand and took a bow. She followed suit, took a bow, and then bolted off the stage and back to her stool at the bar. I thought maybe I had blown it when she ordered more drinks. Then when I started to say no thanks, she downed both shots herself, one right after the other. She did shots when she was going to perform alone, and sure enough she walked over to the list and put her name down. When she got back she sat on her barstool and watched the stage. She didn't say anything to me or even really look at me.

I cursed myself over and over for pushing it. She would have said something by now if she was into me right? If she was okay with my dropping hints like breadcrumbs in a German forest, she would have mentioned it. While she waited she stared at the performers. She said nothing to me, only watching the stage and sipping her drink. I bought her another shot, hoping maybe to get her to look at me, but all she did was stand up, take the shot, and walk up to the microphone.

She rubbed her palms on her pants and closed her eyes for a second, then nodded to Jerry, the karaoke DJ Joe employed. When the music started I expected some tune by an 80's singer but instead immediately recognized "Samson", by Regina Spektor. I had introduced Louise to Regina a couple months ago during our music and movie sharing. When the opening notes floated through the air of Joe's scuzzy little dive bar, a hush fell over the room. It's as if there was a tangible feeling we all shared. And then when Louise sang, her sweet voice filled the empty space.

"You are my sweetest downfall. I loved you firstâ I loved you first." She sent me a look so penetrating I couldn't breathe. Our eyes met and her words struck me to the heart. I could only regain my shuddering breath after she looked away to sing the verses. But when the chorus came around again, there were her eyes, trained on me. I don't know if I blinked the whole song. I took ragged gasps of air as quietly as I could as she scanned the room with her gaze. My mouth was dry. My heart had relocated to my throat. I felt weak in the knees. I didn't know people actually got weak in the knees.

Was this it? Was she telling me something, talking in music, the one thing which she knew I could feel, soul-deep and full of meaning? Was this all in my head? Did she just look at me for the chorus because she didn't know where else to look? Was the song choice purposeful as a message or was she branching out? Was this moment even real or was I passed out on the bar?

What was I going to say to her?

As the song wound down and the last chorus played, she looked back at me with eyes full of emotion and maybe… was it a question? Was she asking me to say something? Was she telling me she had feelings for me?

The audience swelled to cheer for her as she finished and stepped down off the stage. She smiled and nodded, accepting their praise but then she once again looked to me. I knew there were other people in the room with us, but as she walked over, I felt like we were alone in the bar. Her eyes never left mine. I struggled for air once again. The focus of the other patrons shifted to the next singer while Louise and I were trapped in a bubble of tension, anticipation, fear, hope, questions and answers. She sat on her stool and searched into my very core for some sort of response. I knew only that I desperately needed to be sure that the question she had inside her was the one I thought it could be.

"I-"

"You-"

We stepped on each other's words, likely not knowing what we were even going to say but then the moment was over. A person entered our bubble and shattered it. Her gaze was torn away to the interloper.

"Louise Belcher- finally you have given me the courage to speak!" Louise's old pal Rudy was inches from her and instead of the unspoken question from before, now all I could see was confusion, discomfort, and even a little annoyance in her eyes. The guy was so loud the room fell hush once more. Even the singer and karaoke Jerry had stopped because the room was so focused on the drama unfolding right there next to the bar. I thought Louise was drunk but the fumes coming off Rudy were enough to cause a contact high. "I, Rudolph Steiblitz, have loved you since you gave me my first kiss when we were 9." I smirked because when Louise told me that story she was a bit regretful about the whole thing. She glanced at me and then went back to Rudy. "You are beautiful and crazy and nice, sometimes, and funny and I want to be your man. You make my heart beat and take my breath," he stopped to huff his inhaler twice, "away. So let me take away yours." Without any further warning, he took her in his arms in a way I had fantasised doing to her about a million times and then kissed her. It was over-done to the extreme, heavy on tongue and seemingly inspired by either a romance novel or bad pornography. Maybe both.

Louise was stiff as a board and, as far as I could tell, was not responsive or participating. Rudy either didn't notice or didn't care. Part of me was seething at Rudy for breaking into our moment- a moment that could have been THE moment. If he hadn't come over that could maybe have been us instead. Plus, kissing someone without their permission may seem gallant and romantic, even if you aim for a sweep-her-off-her-feet surprise, but that didn't mean it was okay. This was tantamount to assault. It took every ounce of strength I had to not pull him off her. I stopped myself when Rudy pulled away and set her back upright on her barstool only because the look of confusion and chagrin on her face was as comical as any Mel Brooks film she had introduced me to.

"I'll be expecting your call, milady." And just like that, he walked out with his chest puffed up and a look of dreamy satisfaction on his face. As he left, other bar goers were whooping and hollering and shouting out comments to Louise and Rudy. I bit my tongue. I both wanted to say a million things and yet didn't know how to speak, all at once. Her expression had turned to confused embarrassment. I had to know what she was thinking, how she felt about all he said.

Chuckling slightly at how awkward that moment was, "So…um…did you see fireworks?" Her face became angry, but if it was anger at me or Rudy, I didn't know. Her eyes narrowed and she hopped off her stool.

"Absolutely not." She pushed her way outside, following her childhood friend. I could only imagine what was going through her mind, what she would say to him when she caught up. She left her wallet and phone on the bar next to me, sure that I would watch them as much as I watched her drink so I knew she wasn't going to grab him and whisk them both away to a hotel or something for a night of passionate dork-fucking. Or at least, I was pretty sure that wasn't her plan. She was gone for maybe five minutes, giving me time to order myself a whiskey sour and start sipping it slowly while I considered what I should say. What could I say? The moment, that all-important moment when two people could spark and catch fire, was gone. Who knew if we could ever have another moment like that? Were we out of chances?

My perverse sense of humour did find purchase in this whole encounter. Louise is not a PDA aficionado. She rolled her eyes when couples nearby would hold hands or play footsies under the table and she had pretend-gagged more than once when she saw couples making out in public. So being accosted by Rudy, given a public declaration of love, and then kissed as if she were some winsome lady on the cover of one of her sister's novels was so out of her comfort zone that it was pretty funny. For a guy that said she was his world, he certainly didn't seem to know her very well.

She trudged her way back to her stool after a few minutes, eyes focused on the floor and discomfort in every line of her posture. Once she sat down, layed her arms on the bar and hid her face in them, I broke the silence. "So, when's the wedding?" I sounded strained to myself but maybe she didn't notice. I guess I hoped that if I made jokes the whole situation could be brushed off and maybe we could go back to laughing and enjoying our night out.

She spoke without lifting her head from her cradled arms, voice muffled but coherent, "I hate you." Her tone, so grumpy, made me laugh again.

"You love me. Shut up Lulu." I emptied my glass and pushed it over to the bartender to get another. She continued to hide her face from the numerous stares she was getting. I bet she felt about 40 pairs of eyes on her. I tried being silly again. "So, you didn't run after him to confess your love? You sang a love song, after all." I joked but part of me was incredibly curious at what transpired outside.

She continued to hide. "I. Hate. You." I knew her well enough to know she did not, in fact, hate me. If she had she would have punched me and left. She stayed put because we were friends. Nevertheless, she defended the little dude. "Leave Rudy alone. He misunderstood me. I was trying to branch out from Cyndi and he got all caught up in his feelings." So she wasn't talking to me? It was all in my head? "Don't make fun!"

I brought out my charming banter and let the subject drop. "That was one impressive kiss, though." I didn't mean it but I had to at least know if she liked it. She looked up at me with daggers in her eyes. I could tell, though, that she didn't mean it. "Aw… you love me!"

She gave a deep sigh and rather than argue, as if all the fight and feistiness she normally carried in her pocket was all gone, and said "You're right. I love you." It wasn't the I love you I had hoped for, or wanted, or maybe even got earlier in the evening in song. But it was what I was going to get for tonight so I took it.

We both got another drink from Joe and watched the singers until last call, neither of us performing again that night.