austin
“This worked out perfectly,” Mom said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.
We both held bouquets, the scent of fresh blooms filling the air. My mom and Ledger had theirs ready for Evie, and I clutched mine tightly, meant for Charlie. She’d poured her heart into this event, staying up late every night for the past month to make sure every decoration was flawless and every song rehearsed to perfection.
“Yeah,” I murmured, glancing at the stage as we made our way to our seats in the second row.
The energy in the room was electric, a hum of excitement from parents and teachers alike. I took the seat at the end, giving myself the perfect view of Charlie. My mom and Ledger sat beside me, their bouquet resting on Ledger’s lap as we settled in.
Pride bloomed as I looked toward the stage. This was Charlie’s night, a culmination of all her hard work, and I was determined to make sure she knew just how much she was appreciated.
Ledger leaned closer. “Did you call her mom and brother?”
I sighed, glancing down at the bouquet in my lap. “I tried,” I admitted. “Her mom wouldn’t pick up. She hasn’t answeredanyone’s calls since September, ever since we told her we got married.”
Ledger frowned and clicked his tongue. “That’s sad.”
“Yeah. Jacob’s called Charlie a few times, but he always skirts around talking about me. It’s like he can’t decide if he wants to be supportive or keep his distance. I haven’t bothered calling him myself.”
Mom nodded in agreement. “It’s a shame. Times like this, you really notice who shows up and who doesn’t.”
“Charlie’s got all the family she needs right now,” I said, glancing toward the stage where she was directing a group of excited kids.
Ledger gave my shoulder a reassuring pat. “You’re right. She’s got us, and we’re not going anywhere.”
It was true. Over the past few months, we’d made a point to get closer—weekly family dinners at Mom and Ledger’s, sometimes even biweekly if schedules allowed. My therapist had suggested it, and somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like homework and started feeling like home.
A woman dressed head to toe in Christmas cheer—a red sequined sweater, a jingling bell necklace, and a Santa hat tilted on her head—stepped up to the front of the stage. She beamed at the crowd.
“Good evening, everyone. Thank you all for coming to our annual Holiday Song event. This is one of our favorite traditions, and we’re so excited to share it with you tonight.” She paused as a light wave of applause swept through the room.
I took the moment to glance around the auditorium. It was jam packed, every seat filled, with some parents even standing in the back. The buzz of excitement was palpable, the air thick with anticipation as people juggled coats, cameras, and the occasional squirming child.
“Tonight, we’ll be going in grade order, starting with our youngest performers,” the woman continued, her cheerful voice cutting through the hum of the crowd. “First up, we have our wonderful preschoolers and kindergartners. The preschoolers will be on the left side of the stage”—she gestured with a flourish—“and our kindergartners will be on the right. They’ve been working so hard, and I know you’re all going to love what they’ve prepared.”
As she stepped aside, the curtains began to part, revealing the kids lined up behind them. Just as the first preschooler shuffled onto the stage, a voice from somewhere in the crowd loudly yelled out, “Scarlette.”
The sudden cheer was followed by scattered laughter from the audience. I glanced around, trying to pinpoint where it had come from, but with so many faces in the packed room, it was impossible to tell. Giving up, I settled back into my seat, exchanging a knowing look with my mom, who grinned and shook her head.
“Gotta love the enthusiasm,” the woman at the front mumbled into her mic, and the rest of the audience chuckled.
I smiled, leaning back and turning my attention to the stage where Charlie was.
She stepped into view, her honey-blonde hair cascading in soft waves down her back. She wore a red sweater with delicate bows along the sleeves, paired with black tights and a plaid skirt that hit just above her knees.
I beamed. Mom squeezed my thigh, and I held her hand in return. Ledger leaned over, quietly pointing out Evie on the left side of the stage. I spotted her instantly, standing tall with a bright, eager smile. Mom had tamed her wild blonde curls a little. Her blue eyes spotted us immediately, and Ledger waved exaggeratedly.
Charlie knelt beside a small preschooler, handing her oversized rhythm sticks and offering a warm, encouraging smile. The girl’s face lit up as Charlie rose and addressed the crowd, her voice smooth and inviting. “Thank you all for coming,” she said, her tone like honey, instantly capturing everyone’s attention.
She turned back to the kids, her hands moving gracefully as she began to direct. The music started, and the kids’ sweet, slightly off-key voices filled the room.
The program went on for another half hour. The kids were a bundle of energy, their little voices carrying through the auditorium as Charlie guided them through each song and offbeat dance. The crowd clapped along, phones and cameras flashing as parents captured every moment.
Charlie turned back toward the mic, her smile still warm and steady. “Before we bring out the first graders, we’re going to take a big group photo with our preschoolers and kindergartners,” she said. “If any families want to get a good shot, I’ll step out of the way.”
Her eyes scanned the crowd and landed on mine. A slow, knowing smile spread across her face. My chest seized with pride.
She leaned into the mic again. “Once we’re done, parents, feel free to come down and pick up your kids.”
