Acts came and went. A singer forgot a lyric and laughed her way through it. A pair of siblings performed a comedy routine that went off the rails halfway through and somehow landed stronger because of it. Mr. Humphrey announced one act by the wrong name again, then bowed grandly in apology, earning laughter and applause.
There was an uproar of laughter as the young magician misplaced his rabbit and it was found hopping down the center aisle between the audience’s chairs. It took a good five minutes to corral the small creature but everyone took it in good fun.
Behind the judges’ table, Dad laughed heartily at the mistakes and the humor. Mom clapped warmly after every performance. Anne watched attentively, her posture gradually relaxing as the evening progressed.
Great Aunt Cathy sat stiffly, lips pressed thin. She made one more attempt to stand and hijack the show, but Dad caught her eye and shook his head just slightly. She subsided, displeased but contained.
At one point, a young performer froze at the edge of the stage, eyes wide with panic. Without thinking, I stepped closerand caught her gaze, miming a slow breath in and out. She mirrored me, nodded, and stepped forward.
The applause that followed was loud and heartfelt.
Caleb glanced over at me, just briefly, and smiled.
The final act ended to a swell of cheers, the crowd rising to its feet in a way that felt spontaneous and genuine. As the applause faded, Caleb thanked everyone for coming and gestured for the performers to join him on stage.
I watched from the side as they gathered, flushed and grinning, some still clutching props. The sight filled me with a quiet, unexpected pride.
When the judges finished conferring, Mom stood to announce the results. She spoke clearly and warmly, praising effort and bravery more than polish. Prizes were handed out. Photos were taken and parents exclaimed over their children’s efforts.
I stayed where I was, content to let the moment belong to them.
As the crowd slowly dispersed, people lingered to talk and laugh, reluctant to let the evening end. Someone hugged me without warning. Someone else squeezed my hand. I smiled until my cheeks ached, nodding and gesturing when words failed me.
Eventually, the square emptied, the stage lights dimmed, and the cold crept back in.
We packed up quietly. Chairs were folded and put on a wagon to go back to the community center. Cables were coiled and the sound equipment put away. Lydia chattered the entire time while she and Ephram helped to dismantle the stage. Jane responded calmly, making sure nothing was missed while Lucy directed traffic with quiet authority. Meri drifted between tasks with her usual distracted efficiency.
No one rushed me. No one told me what I should have done differently.
When we finally stepped back inside the SnowDrop Inn, warmth wrapped around us immediately. The lobby smelled faintly of coffee and pine, the quiet settling in after the long evening.
I sank onto the couch in the sitting room, exhausted now that there was nothing left to hold together.
Caleb appeared a few minutes later, carrying two mugs. He handed one to me and sat down beside me, close enough that our knees touched.
I cradled the mug, breathing in the steam, letting the warmth seep back into my fingers.
“You were incredible tonight,” Lydia said, collapsing into the chair opposite us.
I shook my head reflexively, then caught myself. I smiled instead.
“You really were,” Jane added softly.
Lucy nodded once. “You ran the whole thing.”
My sisters drifted off one by one, yawning and laughing, until the lobby quieted again. It was just Caleb and me, the fire crackling softly nearby.
He watched me for a moment, then spoke. “I hope my taking over was okay.”
I reached for the notepad on the table and wrote slowly, my hand a little unsteady.Someone needed to and I’m glad it was you.
He read it, then nodded.
“Good,” he said.
I hesitated, then added another line.Thank you for stepping in.
He shook his head gently. “Thank you for letting me.”
