Page 91 of Under One Roof

A minute later, the blank-faced girls plus Logan’s crush exit the stage, and the principal comes back on, clapping like we just watched a ballet. “Amazing, weren’t they? Thank you so much, girls! Now, you’re in for a real treat by Grace Stone, who is normally known for being on the honor roll every quarter. But tonight, she’s going to be showing off another talent. Take it away, Grace!”

I smack Logan’s thigh so he sits up, and I lean forward, suddenly nervous as my daughter appears from the left side of the stage, carrying her guitar. She’s got on tall brown boots, a green lace skirt, and a worn-looking T-shirt emblazoned with a unicorn that readsDon’t Stop Believing. Between the clothes and her hair pulled back into a loose braid like Andi so often wears, they could pass for being related, and I rub at a visceral pain in the center of my chest before pulling my cell phone out of my pocket.

I hit the record button as Grace takes her place in front of the microphone stand and adjusts the strap around her shoulder. She strums a chord, gazing out at the audience, and I see the moment it hits her. Fear.

Performing onstage is so out of character for her, I wish I could help her somehow, but I’m useless.

Gracie’s face pales as she offers a shaky smile and clears her throat. “H-hi. I’m… My name is Grace Stone, and, and…”

“Oh my god,” Logan mumbles into his hands. “She’s gonna puke.”

“She’s not gonna puke,” I say, hoping she doesn’t puke.

“I’m, um, going to—” she clears her throat “—I’m going to sing.”

But she doesn’t. She doesn’t do anything except stand there, and I cup one hand around my mouth, shouting, “You got it, Gracie!”

She squints behind her glasses in my direction, and I wave. She takes a visibly deep breath and strums another chord, but this one doesn’t sound right.

People all around me whisper and shift, impatiently waiting, but I patiently waited through all their kids’ goddamn bullshit talents. They can wait a little longer on mine.

Behind me, the door bangs open, causing a commotion, but I don’t pay it any mind, keeping my attention on Grace.

Until a familiar voice rings out. “Love you, Gracie! You’re amazing!”

Logan and I both whip our heads around to the woman hooting and hollering like she’s at a concert.

I love her.

I fucking love her so goddamn much.

I burst out of my seat, followed by Logan, and hightail it to the back of the auditorium, where Andi’s jumping up and down next to another woman, holding a sign with big block letters.Gracie rocks like a Stonewith stickers and glitter all over.

Onstage, Grace grins and acknowledges Andi with a few nods then closes her eyes for a moment, obviously re-centering herself, before she holds up her arm like she’s some kind of rock goddess and hits a chord on a downswing.

I grip Andi’s elbow, pulling her to me. “What the hell are you doing here?”

She places one hand on my chest and the other to my lips. “Shh. Our girl’s about to sing her heart out.”

Our girl.

Grace is mine. And Andi’s.Ours.

Beside me, Logan stares at Andi, who smiles shyly at him then mouths, “I’m sorry.”

My son doesn’t answer, but he also doesn’t fight her when she steps toward him, looping her arm around his shoulders, positioning him in front of her as Grace starts playing “You Belong with Me” onstage.

It’s suddenly hard for me to breathe.

I don’t understand what’s going on. With Andi here and hugging Logan. Some random woman cheering and singing along with Grace when she gets a little lost on the guitar.

I missed something, but the more I think about it, the more I miss in this moment. So, I stop trying to control it and clap along with Andi as she keeps the beat. Soon, others join in, and my daughter smiles, even though the song seems a little slow and her voice cracks every so often.

Grace finishes with a flourish, holding the last note, and damn if I don’t get teary-eyed.

The audience applauds. Andi cheers raucously. The woman with the sign lets out a high-pitched hoot that I think would do well to torture our enemies with on repeat.

Onstage, Grace waves, bows, and runs offstage. I take the opportunity to grip Andi’s wrist, telling Logan, “Don’t move.”

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