Earl lowered his gaze to the floor. Whispered amens dropped across the room.
Aunt Dahlia’s silence hung heavy.
“It’s beautiful,” she finally breathed. “I’ve never heard anything like it. It’s authentic, gritty, worshipful. Earl, you did a wonderful job.”
Earl finally raised his gaze and nodded to her, his appreciation and relief filling the air.
Aunt Dahlia let out a long sigh. “But it’s not for us.”
The atmosphere changed so fast, Ariel took hold of the mic stand to steady herself. “What—why? We all love it. And we played it well.”
“I love it too. But we’re not a worship band. Y’all agreed we’re country, and that genre allows us to sing about the Lord, prayer, and faith. But our focus is country.”
How could she not see this powerful song’s potential? “You said to change things up. Reimagine the band. And you put me in charge. Can’t we?—”
“We’re not gonna argue about it or discuss it anymore.” Her aunt dropped her voice to a whisper so soft only Ariel could hear. “It’s okay. I should have given you more guidance.”
Which was another way of saying Ariel had failed.
Aunt Dahlia raised her voice as she walked away. “I’ll text y’all with a plan for tomorrow.”
Mr. Augo caught up with her. “Dahlia, I think you’re making a mistake.”
Only she and Ariel stood close enough to catch his words. But Ariel couldn’t hear her reply.
The unnatural silence in a room full of musicians unnerved her until they started drifting wordlessly out, Caleb accompanying Granddad and the home health aide. Ariel wandered around the empty room. Stepped to the big door and looked out.
The storm still raged, but something about the sidewalk lights illuminating the falling rain brought a sense of peace in the midst of turmoil.
She eased open the heavy door and stepped onto the porch, watching the lawn and the lights and the canopy of trees. Theraindrops beat an erratic staccato on the windows as the drops hit the glass, then drifted down the windows like tiny diamonds.
Something about the air gave her a feeling of freshness, of a new start, and the evening’s frustrations fell to the grass with the rain, making space for a new thing, a solid aspiration. Something that would ground her and bring deeper satisfaction.
She heard a sound in the parlor, then the door opened and Caleb met her on the porch.
Deep and wide, the porch had ample space to keep them dry as long as they stayed far under the high ceiling, watching the beauty of the storm. “I saw you leave right before we started,” she said. “Is everything okay?”
“Sort of. Somebody messed with my guitar.” He explained the situation as Ariel pulled her sweater closer around her and gazed out at the dimly lit lawn and the pouring-down rain.
“I never thought we’d have a mystery to solve on Jonathon Island,” she said. “But the main thing now is to find your guitar. We can’t let something that meaningful simply disappear.”
“Don’t worry about that old guitar.”
“But it’s your favorite. The one you sacrificed for.”
Caleb turned to her, his brown eyes soft in the lamplight. “I was proud of you tonight. Your vocals were tight, and you played well too.”
“I was sure she’d say yes.”
“Miss Dahlia surprised everybody.”
Seconds ticked by. “Say it, Caleb. It’s okay.”
He drew a breath. “She’s right.”
“As always.” Ariel closed her eyes for a moment. “I didn’t want to admit it.”
“Me either, but we should have seen it coming. Her vagueness gave the impression she was open to anything. But she’s smart and knows her audience, so she can’t say yes to this song.”
