Incidental Happenstance

by DeSalvo, Kim

  “Only all of it,” Tia replied. “I’ve been a fan for a lot of years.”

  “Then tell me this, Tia—are you a sing-along kind of girl?”

  “Well actually,” she paused, not knowing how much she wanted or needed to give away at this point. She certainly didn’t want any sympathy about Nick—the whole purpose of this night was to get away from the sympathy and just be a normal person. Someone who didn’t lose the love of her life a year ago to the day, she thought. “A few of my friends play guitar, and know a lot of your songs. Sometimes they play at this pub I hang out at a lot, and once in a while I’d do harmony if they needed someone.” She realized that she’d spoken the last part of the sentence in past tense. It had been a long time since she’d sung at the pub; sometimes it seemed like a lifetime ago. Dylan didn’t seem to notice.

  A huge smile crossed his face. “Seriously? Well that’s just perfect! Do you know harmony for “Lost in You?”

  “That’s one of my favorites, actually, but…”

  “Hold that thought.” Dylan slid out of the booth. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Dylan, wait!” she called as he walked toward the reception table pulling his wallet from his back pocket. He wasn’t seriously signing them up to sing karaoke, was he? She was at once mortified and thrilled. She’d sung in front of crowds before; that wasn’t a big deal. And like Last Stop, she didn’t think anyone who ran in her social or professional circles was big into karaoke, so she wasn’t too concerned about making an ass of herself. But having the chance to sing, on a stage (albeit at a strange venue) with Dylan Miller? Especially to sing one of the songs she and Nick had loved so much? She knew he would want her to do it—if he were here, he’d push her onto the stage if he had to. And yes, Dylan was returning with a song sheet in his hand—not that either of them would need it.

  “We’re all set. I entered us in the duet contest. Looks like we have some stiff competition, too. See that couple over there?” He tipped his head toward a table aside the stage where an older couple dressed in full country-western compliment were pouring over a song sheet and squeezing lemon into their water glasses. “They’re doing Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers.”

  “Oh God. Not “Islands in the Stream.”

  “The very one. And, Candy at the reception table tells me that they’re regulars. They’re big winners—kind of an institution around this place. She wasn’t going to let me enter so late in the game, but apparently not too many people are willing to cough up the entry fee when they have to go against the local champs. They might be tough.”

  “Dylan, it’s been a while since I’ve sung in public. I know all the notes, but…”

  “Well, you said you liked fun and adventure. What could be more adventurous than karaoke?” He lifted her face with his finger, taking in the look of indecision on her face. He forced her to meet his eyes. “Hey,” he said. “It’s just for fun; I’m not going to judge you or anything. But if you’re not comfortable, we can back out if you really don’t want to do it; no big deal.”

  The serious look on his face, and his touch under her chin boosted her confidence. She’d still been singing at home. She could do this. Actually, she thought, how could she not do this?

  “Oh no,” she smiled, hoping she conveyed more confidence than the butterflies that had suddenly taken flight in her stomach allowed her to feel, “I was just thinking how those country bumpkins are goin’ down!”

  “Thata girl!” Dylan smiled that incredible smile, and she knew she would sing her heart out. For Dylan, and for Nick.

  The country bumpkins turned out to be Frank and Joy Walker, and they were actually really good. Her voice was clear and bright, and his was deep and rolling. They complimented each other nicely, and got a rousing applause from the audience. It was cute how they dressed for the part, too. She was wearing a flouncy skirt, circa 1970’s line dancing competition, and he was pure cowboy, complete with boots, hat and bolero tie. When their song ended, they drifted into each other’s arms and kissed before taking a bow. Dylan and Tia shared a look that said, ‘tough competition, indeed’ as they clapped and cheered along with the rest of the crowd.

  Two more couples performed, one newlywed and one a pair of girls. Both were painful to listen to. Then the mc stood up and called for Chester and Francine to take the stage. Tia’s heart began to flutter as her butterflies suddenly turned into bats—nervously, she looked up to her singing partner, who was smiling down at her. This couldn’t really be happening! If this was a dream, she definitely didn’t want to wake up from it. Dylan gallantly extended his hand and she took it gracefully, rising from her seat and walking to the stage. It was all a show now, so they set up the song by staring deep into each other’s eyes as they took their places in front of their mikes. It was a love song, after all.

  As soon as the music started, Tia lost herself in the ebb and flow of the notes and the rhythm of her heart changed to match the music—slow and easy. Dylan’s voice glided in with the gravelly, honest sound that had won the hearts of millions. When Tia chimed in with the harmony, their voices blended beautifully, rising and falling in piano and crescendo. Their eyes locked, and the passion of the music played out in their faces. Around the room, conversations halted and glasses stopped in mid-rise. Neither of them noticed, but Frank and Joy exchanged first a pained look, then a hug, as they conceded to the young couple on the stage who were so obviously in tune with one another.

  When they sang the last line, “Please don’t try to find me, I just wanna stay lost in you,” Dylan tipped his head so that their foreheads were touching and their eyes were locked on each other. The room was silent for a moment, and then it erupted in a fury of applause, catcalls, and whistles. Tia felt humbled and proud, and wondered if Dylan still felt like this after every performance. She couldn’t imagine this kind of adulation ever getting old. Dylan took her face in his hands, kissed her on the forehead where his own had just been resting, then turned her to take a bow. As they made their way back to their booth, there were handshakes, pats on the back, and congratulations from many of the patrons. They were barely in their seats when drinks arrived at their table.

  “Compliments of Frank and Joy,” the waitress smiled. Then she leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “You guys were great! I just know you got this!”

  “Thanks a lot,” Dylan smiled back. They both raised their glasses to Frank and Joy who had switched from water to champagne, and who held up their own glasses for a long-distance toast.

  “That was so amazing!” Tia breathed, grinning widely. “How do you even live with yourself when you have thousands of people worshiping you every night?”

  “All in a day’s work,” he joked. “But it is a pretty awesome feeling, isn’t it? It really never gets old.”

  She respected him for that. It was obvious from a fan’s standpoint that Dylan gave his best at every show, and it appeared that he truly loved performing for his audience. But he was an actor, too, so she was genuinely glad to see that he was so real.

  Two more couples followed, but the buzz around the bar was that there was a new power couple at Sing-Along Cassidy’s. After a very short judges’ deliberation, the mc stood up to announce the winners. When Chester and Francine were named couples’ champs, the roar of appreciation once again rose from the crowd. Dylan and Tia rose and accepted their small plastic microphone trophy and took a final bow, but when the judges handed them an oversized check for $250, Dylan’s eyes shadowed. They took one more bow, and returned to their booth.

  “I didn’t know there was prize money involved,” Dylan said. “I had no idea.” His eyes were troubled. “I sing for a living. I have no business taking money for this.”

  Tia understood. “I feel bad stealing the thunder from Frank and Joy too,” she said. “Look how cute they are!” They both looked over at the older couple who were once again raising their glasses toward them, Frank’s arm resting comfortably around Joy’s shoulders. “I have no problem tell
ing them that they deserve it more than us—the fun and adventure of this experience was more than enough for me.”

  “Really?” Once again, this woman surprised him. He was about to say more, but suddenly, Frank and Joy were at their table.

  Frank spoke first. “You got some set of pipes on you, little missy,” he grinned. “I was so wrapped up in them that I almost forgot I was listening to some rock and roll song.”

  Her pipes? She’d just sung with one of the world’s most popular singers, and he was talking about her pipes? Tia shook her head in amazement, and then smiled warmly at him. “Thank you very much,” she said humbly.

  Joy chimed in, “You sound beautiful together! It brought tears to my eyes to see the love you had for the music—and for each other.” She winked at Tia, who glanced over at Dylan as he was trying to stifle a mischievous smile. “And you, young man!” she exclaimed, batting her false eyelashes at Dylan, “you should think about singing professionally—I’ve never heard a more unique voice—it’s like smoke, honey and sandpaper—very sexy!” She blew Dylan an air kiss. “Have you two been singing together long?”

  “Not nearly as long as the two of you, from what I understand,” he replied, taking Joy’s hand and kissing the back of it. “You two are wonderful together.” She giggled girlishly at the compliment and the kiss, and waved her hand in a humble dismissal.

  “We’d better be,” Frank broke in. Thirty-seven years today we’ve been at it. It’s our anniversary. If you can’t harmonize, you dematerialize, that’s what I always say.”

  “That’s so wonderful!” Tia said. “Happy Anniversary!” She glanced over at Dylan, who nodded for her to continue. “We just loved your performance too, and we both agree that you deserve the prize more than we do. You’re practically icons at this place—everyone knows you.”

  “Consider it an anniversary present,” Dylan added. “We really want you to have it.”

  “Oh now honey that’s so sweet of you, but we don’t need the money!” Joy bubbled. “We got all we need. Frank worked hard so we could have a good life, and we couldn’t ask for more. You keep it. You deserve it! After all, you won fair and square.”

  No we didn’t, Dylan thought, feeling even worse. “No, really, we insist,” he said firmly.

  Frank waved them off with a shake of his hand. “We wouldn’t consider it for even a minute. Joy and I do this for fun, not for money. You young people enjoy it. Have some fun; go out for a nice dinner or something.”

  The waitress snaked around the older couple with another round of drinks from admirers. As she reached in to place them on the table, Frank and Joy hastily shook their hands and made a quick exit.

  “You folks have a really good night, now, you hear? Congratulations!” Frank called over his shoulder.

  “It was so nice to meet such a lovely young couple—keep singing!” Joy chimed in as they slipped out the door.

  “Well, that went well,” Dylan said sarcastically. “They really are a sweet couple, though.” He looked out the window and waved once more to them. “Considering they’re climbing into a very flashy Mercedes right now, they probably don’t need the money. But still, I can’t take it. It wouldn’t feel right.”

  Tia looked out the window and watched Frank open the door and help Joy inside before going around to the driver’s seat. “Oh,” she said. “That is a sweet ride. They’re just adorable, aren’t they?” she smiled wistfully.

  “You keep the money, Tia,” Dylan said. “They were right, you know. You really were brilliant up there. I’m incredibly impressed.” He meant every word.

  Tia blushed crimson and held her hands to her cheeks to cool her face. “Really?” she grinned, unable to believe that she’d just received a compliment on her voice from one of her favorite singers of all time. She was losing the battle with the blush, and couldn’t seem to erase the smile from her face. Dylan smiled back. “Really,” he said sincerely, taking her hand from her face and kissing it much as he had Joy’s. Their eyes locked, and Tia felt the room start to spin in slow circles.

  Just then, the mc stepped up to their table and slid into the booth beside Tia. “Hi there folks,” he said in a sing-song voice. “Name’s Corbin,” he said, shaking their hands in turn. “Sure was a fine job you did out there tonight. It was almost like being at a real live concert or something. I tell ya, it’s refreshing to actually hear some great singing. Some of the acts we get in here… well, let’s just say I wish I had earplugs!”

  “I can imagine,” Dylan answered, smiling politely.

  “So, I take care of the business end of things here, and I need to know if you want two separate checks to split the amount, or just one. And I need your last names, too. There’s a little bit of paperwork to sign…”

  “I don’t…” Dylan began.

  “Actually,” Tia broke in. “We’ve decided that we’d like to donate the money to charity. Would you be able to make the check out directly to them?”

  Corbin looked taken aback, but quickly regained his composure. “Well now, that’s real generous of you. Real generous! A first, I can tell you that. Of course I can make it out to anyone you want.” He tilted his head and looked at them with mock innocence. “I can tell you how to spell my name, if you want. I could use some charity!” He winked a smile in Tia’s direction. “Kidding, kidding,” he said, laughing at his own joke. “I’d be proud to do it.” He pulled his pen from his shirt pocket and opened his small notebook. “Just spell it out for me, so’s I can be sure I get it right.”

  “It’s called Diligence, but not the way it sounds. D-Y-L-A-G-E-N-T-S,” she spelled.

  Dylan looked at her across the table, eyes wide, and an awestruck look on his face.

  “I ain’t heard of that one,” Corbin said. “What do they do?”

  “It’s a children’s charity,” Tia answered. “They do kind of a ‘making dreams come true’ thing for kids with leukemia.”

  “Well, that sounds like a fine organization. I’ll go take care of that in the back, and be right back with your check.” He slid out of the booth and through a door that led to the back of the club.

  “You…” Dylan began, but for the first time in a very long time, he was unable to find his voice.

  “What?” Tia smiled. “I told you I was a fan. I’ve supported your charity too. You do good work, and you get personally involved—I like that. I’ve seen pictures of you visiting some of those kids in the hospital. You make a difference in their lives and I really respect that. A lot.” She lowered her voice, and impulsively took his right hand in hers, tracing the outline of the tattoo with her finger. “You know this was what gave you away in the end, right? I was pretty sure, but not positive it was you until I saw it. It’s the Chinese symbol for younger sister, and I know your sister lost her battle with leukemia, and that the tattoo and the charity are for her.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “I’m really sorry.”

  He wrapped his fingers around hers and squeezed. “Oh my God. Are you real?”

  Tia smiled. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing about you all night. Me, I’m about as real as they come. But tonight, with you—I hope you’re not offended, but you seem pretty real too. Way more real than I would have imagined an international superstar and,” she added a British accent to her voice, “‘Sexiest Man on Earth as voted by Person to Person readers’ to be.”

  “Oh, that,” he smiled, taking back his hand, waving it in exaggerated dismissal and finally finding his voice again. Who is this woman, he thought, and where has she been all my life? She knew who he was, knew about his charity, his life—because she’d read about him. And still she’d been treating him like a normal guy. Suddenly he wanted to know a lot more about her.

  “Yeah, well, it was kind of hard to miss. That cover was staring me in the face every time I went to the grocery store, the book store, even the hardware store.”

  “And did you buy the issue?” he asked secretively, tilting his head to the side and lo
oking up at her coyly.

  “I confess,” she raised her hands in the air in surrender. “I did. I almost never buy those things, actually—they’re so full of crap most of the time. Sometimes I pick one up when I need some frivolous reading, like when I’m going on a flight or something—it helps to absorb the mind-numbing boredom of sitting in an airport.” She dropped her eyes and the corners of her lips turned up ever so slightly. “But I bought that one, yes.” Dylan couldn’t hide his sly smile.

  Corbin returned to their table with a check, and slid once more into their booth, much to Dylan’s dismay. This woman was fascinating him, and he wanted to get to know her without the constant interruptions.

  “Now missy, check to see that I spelled the name of that place right, will you? And you need to sign here that you received it, and you’ll get a copy, but you won’t have to pay taxes on it or anything, since you’re giving it all to charity.” Tia took the check, and Dylan signed the paper. “I sincerely hope we’ll see the two of you out here again. You could be quite a draw for our little hole-in-the-wall!”

  “Thanks Corbin,” Dylan said cordially, shaking his hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you and to perform here. If we’re in the area again, we’ll be sure to stop in.”

  Corbin looked pleased, and smiled large, showing a couple gaps where teeth used to be. “Well I’d like that! Can I persuade you to maybe do an encore? I’m sure the crowd would appreciate it.”

  “We’d like to, but I’m afraid we have to be going. Rain check?”

  “You bet! Anytime. Y’all take care now.” Corbin took his leave, asking for one more round of applause for the winners, and announcing that they’d donated their winnings to a charity that “helps sick kids.” The applause grew even louder, forcing the pair to stand for yet another bow.

  “Ready to get out of here?” Dylan asked.

  Tia’s heart dropped a couple inches in her chest. Her original plan for the evening had been to stay out for a couple hours and she’d already well exceeded that, but she hadn’t even imagined that she could actually have fun tonight, or that she’d meet someone like Dylan. She liked him—he was an incredibly nice guy. Part of her was amazed that he was so down-to-earth; he wasn’t snobby or pretentious like she’d imagined a celebrity to be. Most of all, she was amazed that she was having such a good time. She liked the feeling; had missed it terribly. She felt comfortable with Dylan, and their conversation was going better than she’d expected. To say she was disappointed that her time with him was coming to an end already would be a huge understatement, but it was his call. “Sure,” she replied softly.