Page 13 of Sing Me Home
“Keep going, son,” Dad’s voice came over the speakers and the cheering intensified. “I like where you’re headed with this.”
I chuckled. “He may be a superstar, but he’s also the guy who used to tell me if I didn’t practice my chords, I’d end up flipping burgers for a living.”
Fireworks burst out of the spark shooters behind me which meant Dad was walking onto the stage. A wave of noise rolled like thunder toward us.
Dad shook his head but he fought a grin, his guitar slung across his shoulder. “And look at you now—introducingme. He tipped his signature black cowboy hat at the ocean of people. Grown men screamed like teenagers, and teenagers cried like kids.
“Y’all, give it up for the best man I know, my musical hero, and the guy who’s about to make me look real bad—Fooooord Duuuupreeee!”
The stage rumbled at the jubilee that followed.
Dad ruffled me on the head before hooking an arm around my shoulder. “He did good, yeah?” he said proudly.
The audience graciously screamed their approval. Blue, my cousin’s husband, a former NFL QB and more recently, the Seddledowne High football coach, stuck two fingers in his mouth and let out an ear-splitting whistle.
As the cheering continued, Dad pressed his earpiece and gestured for me to do the same. “Don’t worry about Millie. We have a plan in place. I need you to go with what’s about to happen next, all right? And stay center stage. Do not cross the yellow tape.”
“Got it.” My body tightened, bracing for whatever I’d just gotten myself into. It had to be better than proposing to Millie in front of this crowd.
Dad and I both tapped the button again, turning our mics back on. Suddenly, two stagehands appeared, dressed in black, and placed a stool behind each of us.
“Before we let Cash go,” Dad said. “How about one more song? A father-son duet. It’s one of Cash’s best songs, in my opinion. Called, ‘Please Come Home Tonight.’”
We settled onto our seats, our guitars in our laps. I flicked my brows, giving him the signal. We both began to play. But, like we’d practiced, I sang the first verse alone.
You always had a way of getting under my skin,
The kind of trouble that I loved to be in.
Told myself I’d let you go, leave it all behind,
But here I am still singing ‘bout you every dang time.
A few tiny dots of light flickered on, like early stars appearing at dusk. Within seconds, it had gone to a full-blown Milky Way of phone flashlights, swaying with the music. I’d dreamt of this exact moment so many times. It felt surreal to finally be here. For those lights to shine for me, on stage with my dad.
I gazed out at my family again. Still no Mom. Still no Addie.
Two Opal and Ivy cameramen were on Millie who was fanning her face as if she were fighting tears. Like this song was for her. She started making her way toward the stage.
I tapped my earpiece. “Any time now would be good,” I hissed.
Dad gave me an easy look that said he wasn’t worried. Then he joined in with his smooth tenor, hitting the harmony to my melody.
We were tangled up, soaking wet,
That kiss still burns, I can’t forget.
I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the anxiety of Millie’s forced proposal hanging over my head.
But you walked away, left me standing there,
Like none of it mattered, like you didn’t care.
Dad was supposed to sing this with me, so why had I just sung that solo? I opened my eyes to find him gone. I continued on alone.
I ain’t over you, maybe I never will be
My head jerked back because suddenly it was a duet again. With a female alto that sounded like…
