“I just wanted to send a shout out to my father, who’s in the audience tonight. It’s his fifty-fifth birthdaytoday.”
The crowdcheered.
“That’s right. It’s a big accomplishment to live this long, and I was thinking we could really make his day by singing to him. What doyousay?”
More riotouschants.
“Come onup,Dad.”
We all turned to my father, who was staying firmly planted in his chair. It was clear he had no intention of willingly making his way up on stage. For all his blustery bravado, my dad hated the spotlight, and walking up there in front of tens of thousands of people was not his idea of a good time. Of course, that’s what made it funny, and why Jake had volunteered him for thepleasure.
“Let’s go, old man,” Jake prompted from the stage, but Dad shook his head, refusing. “No? Okay, no problem.We’llwait.”
More chants exploded from the arena, growing inintensity.
“Any day now, Pops. I’ve got a concert to finish up here. You’re making all these goodpeoplewait.”
Out of options, my father begrudgingly climbed the stairs to the riotous approval of themasses.
“Ladies and gentlemen, ScottMcKallister.”
Dad took his bow in front of the adoringhordes.
“Can someone get this man a chair?He’sold.”
Clearly Jake was having fun at Dad’s expense, and I thought it was hysterical – until my father, given a chance to address the audience, dragged us all downwithhim.
“Since it’s my birthday week,” he said, “I’d like to request my loving children, their significant others, and my lovely wife to come up and sing tometoo.”
And we did. All of us swarmed the stage. Finn had been reluctant to join the rest of us, but when my mother hooked her arm in his and led him up, he obediently followed. Together we serenaded my father in the loudest, most off-key song a crowd of thousands could muster. In the end, my dad had been thoroughly thrilled and had decided that a big arena serenade would make his list yearly from hereonout.
Just as Finn and I were exiting the stage, Jake grabbed my arm and whispered in my ear, “We’ll be discussing Stanlater.”
“Don’t get too attached. I’ll be expectinghimback.”
“Oh, you’ll be getting him back, Ipromise.”
The wicked smile on his face told me Stan would be making a later appearance in the most unwelcomeofways.
As the concert wound down, Finn hugged his arm around my waist. The lights crisscrossed the stage and the pounding beat could be felt in every curve of my body. Finn’s embrace was the final touch to an incredible day. He squeezed me tight as he nuzzledmyneck.
“Are you thinking again?” heasked.
“Yes.”
“You worry me when youdothat.”
“Sorry. It’s a nasty habitofmine.”
“Promise you won’t get all freaky on me tonight. This whole day has been perfection, Emma. Let’s keep the streakgoing.”
“Okay, Ipromise.”
16
Emma, 2004: NightTerrors
The hair-raising screamsstabbed through the walls of our modest home, jolting me from a fitful sleep. Tiny arms wrapped tighter around me as Grace buried her head in my stomach and whimpered. Since Jake’s return, she hadn’t slept one night in herownbed.
