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Gen One, Day Fifty-Seven

“It’s almost time!” Robyn exclaimed, getting up from her seat and practically turning on Johnny to grab his shoulders in excitement. Her heart was pounding, energy coursing through her veins with anticipation and nerves. Johnny, on the other hand, seemed the picture of stoicism and there was a loving smirk curling up the side of his mouth. “Okay, you can do this,” she told him. 

“Bug,” Johnny said calmly, reaching up to grab her hands and hold them in his own. He must have practiced controlled breathing or zen mind tricks before all of this, she was convinced. “I love you, but your nervousness is going to make me nervous.” 

“Right,” she answered, pulling back and standing there. She looked towards the small crowd that had gathered at the blues club, the empty microphone in front of them as they waited patiently for Johnny to take the stage. This would be his first time doing stand up comedy in years and it was at an open mic night for comedians in a small club downtown. It was a start, she supposed, to dip his toes back in the water. “Go get ‘em, tiger,” she said, giving him an atta boy right on his shoulder. 

He laughed, kissing her cheek, before going to take the mic.

Gen One, Day Fifty-Seven

Robyn’s anger soon turned into hurt when Johnny turned to the woman to thank her, then proceeded to strike up a conversation with her. Robyn stared at the back of his head for a moment, feeling like she’d been slapped in the face by the fact that Johnny didn’t just automatically do something to remind the woman that he was a happily married man. 

Grabbing her drink, she tossed the rest of it back, setting it down on the counter and looking to the bartender, who was smirking at Johnny and the woman he was now talking to. Maybe it was overreacting, maybe she shouldn’t feel that way, but it was like she wasn’t even in the room. Like she was invisible sitting right here and Robyn felt her chest tighten up, a deep breath in to try and keep herself from telling them all off. 

It wasn’t until Johnny wished the woman a pleasant night and made it clear he was ready to get back to his drink that the bartender said anything at all. 

“Yeah, I’d watch out, man. The groupies here get wild.” 

Johnny snorted. “Oh, I’m used to that. Used to do shows at the Violet Lounge up the street? It was always the old women, for some reason.” 

The two of them laughed and Robyn squared her jaw, feeling her own emotions bottle up a little bit. She stood up, announced she’d be right back and then headed for the bathroom, missing the way Johnny watched her leave, a concerned look on his face.

Gen One, Day Fifty-Seven

Robyn had so much nervous, chaotic energy coursing through her as Johnny did his routine that she could barely contain herself. Whenever he told a joke or paused for a laugh, she’d look around the audience to make sure they were really laughing because they thought it was funny and not because they just felt bad for him up there. But they all seemed to really enjoy his jokes. 

It did a lot to calm her down and it was almost halfway through the routine before she finally felt like she could breathe again. It gave her time to sit back and just admire her husband. While he maybe looked nervous in the beginning, she thought she could just tell because she knew him. Now, however, it looked like it was easy for him to get back into the swing of things. Like riding a bike. 

Johnny controlled the room. Knew exactly what would get the crowd going and had the comedic timing of a pro. He was really good at this, she’d known that since the first time she’d seen him perform. It made her think again that she wished he would have stuck with it. That his military service had really done him wrong by taking this away from him.