Chapter Fourteen

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Eve glanced around the cheesy karaoke bar with the even cheesier name and wondered again how she ended up here.  It wasn’t that The Sing-A-Ling was a bad bar, even if there were some particularly bad amateur singers on stage.  Eve was sure in another life, she would have enjoyed the general feel-good atmosphere surrounding her.  No, it wasn’t the bar or even the fact that she was there; rather it was who she was sharing a table with.

After Doug’s strange proposal of friendship, which had nearly given Eve a heart attack, he’d insisted they kick off their newfound friendship with an evening out.  What she hadn’t realized was that an evening out as friends included Thad and Camille Kline.

“So, Eve,” Doug said over the boisterous, off-key woman crooning something about any man of hers.  “What do you plan on singing first?”

“Oh, no,” Eve responded quickly.  “I don’t sing.”

“Sure you do,” Doug cajoled.  “I’ve heard you sing to Emma.  You have a great voice.”

“It’s not the same,” Eve said, her cheeks flaming.  “Emma is comforted by rhythm; she doesn’t care how out of tune I am.”

“You leave her alone, Douglas.”

Eve was shocked when Camille to her defense.

“Don’t you let him bully you,” Camille patted Eve’s hand.  “The first time these two brought me here, they plied me with alcohol and then dragged me on stage repeatedly.”

“And she sounds like a demented cat in heat when she sings,” Thad chimed in.

“Like you’re any better,” Camille shot back.

“Neither one of them can sing their way out of a wet paper bag,” Doug said.

Eve sat back and watched the interaction between the three friends.  She was envious of the closeness the group had.  It had been a long time since Eve had been part of a group like this, and she found that she missed the camaraderie.  It wasn’t long before Eve found herself giggling along with Camille as the two men turned their wit on each other.

“Listen thunder bolts of lightning,” Doug said to Thad.

“Hey man, don’t hate.  Just because I’m creative and inventive—”

“You copied some chick flick from the 80’s,” Doug snorted.  “I don’t think that counts as creativity.  Plagiarism, maybe.”

“I got the girl, didn’t I?” Thad asked slinging his arm over his wife’s shoulders.  “I think it was pretty creative to use an old movie as inspiration.”

“Um honey,” Camille said, smiling adoringly at Thad.  “I believe I told you how much I loved those kind of romantic gestures and that was why you pulled that stunt.”

“Yes, but don’t I get points for listening?”

Eve was roaring with laughter as the byplay continued around the table.  While she didn’t share the memories, she wasn’t excluded from the conversation.

“Eve, tell me honestly,” Thad said turning to her.  “If your man messed up big time, wouldn’t you be won over by him signing to you along with a stereo?  Not to mention having a huge basket of flowers that all mean I’m sorry.”

“Well,” Eve said carefully.  “I’m sure your intentions were good.”

“Oh those flowers,” Camille burst out laughing.  “I had nearly forgotten that perfumed basket of vomit you brought me.”  She turned to Eve.  “There is a reason florists mix and match certain types of flowers while leaving others out.  This doofus,” she tossed a thumb over her shoulder at Thad, “thought it would be a good idea to mix every kind of flower.  It was literally one of the most horrible scent combinations I have ever smelled.”

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