Watching frustration and resignation move across Joy’s face was almost comical, though Seth didn’t understand why she was so reluctant to let Chantal help. The child had sat patiently through almost an hour of music and adjustments.
“What can it hurt?” Seth’s question earned him a withering glare.
“Fine. Just today. Not tomorrow. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mama.”
Joy stomped down the stairs and helped Chantal up the six steps. Seth didn’t blame her. There was no railing to grab if you wobbled.
“Let’s go over this.” Seth read the script aloud once. Luckily, Chantal only had a few lines. “Places, everyone.”
The children on the risers sat. One of the chastised boys walked to the mic and began narrating the story. The players acted their parts and spoke their lines with almost no prompting. Chantal walked slowly across the stage and faced the seats. Her eyes lit with happiness. She started speaking the lines fromThe Gospel of Lukethat Seth recognized from his youth Sunday school classes. “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord…”
She must have already known the verse because she recited it without stumbling, her face glowing with pride. The scene wrapped up, Joy started playing, and the choir stood and launched into a rocking version ofMary’s Boy Child. The song morphed intoWe Wish You a Merry Christmas,and they were finished.Joy returned to the mic and, in a shaking voice, gave the closing address just as parents started coming in.
Chapter Eight
Whenthelastchildhad finally left with a parent, Joy rushed to Chantal. “You were wonderful,” she praised. “But you are not going on stage tomorrow night.” Her daughter’s face went from blissful to angry instantly. Chantal turned and stomped over to where Seth was sitting in the front row, her crutches slamming into the floor with each step. She couldn’t remember the last time Chantal had been that angry. Her daughter was very even-tempered.
Closing her eyes, Joy struggled not to be angry at Seth. This was his fault. He let Chantal do this. Now she was going to start thinking she could do many things far beyond her abilities. She was going to get hurt. Joy pushed her anger aside. Now wasn’t the time.
“I’m going to practice my lines,” Joy said.
“You should try them with the mic on,” Seth suggested. “You mentioned that you’re not good at public speaking. Trust me when I say the mic makes it worse.”
Well, that was helpful. Not!She sighed. He had a point.
She walked to the mic stand and clicked the mic on. “Testing.” Barely audible, her voice quivered.Crud. She cleared her throat and tried again. Louder, but no less shaky.
“Louder, Mama,” Chantal said from the first row.
“Good evening.” Panic hit her square in the chest. She sounded awful. Creaky and shrill. “I sound terrible.”She couldn’t do this.
Chantal laughed. “You sound like you, Mama.”
Seth smirked.
He knew she’d sound this way.Jerk.
She tried again. “My name is Joy; I’ll be your emcee for the evening.” Her voice steadied, but still sounded wrong. So very wrong.
“Better,” Seth said, taking a seat beside Chantal. “Pretend you’re talking to us. Forget everyone else. It’s just us.”
She focused in on his face, and though he was six feet away, she’d almost swear she saw support there. She drew in a deep breath and began again. Her lines flowed and if she tuned out her own voice, she might get through this. Only Seth wouldn’t be in the audience tomorrow. He’d be on stage. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine she could get over her fears. Speaking up at staff meetings made her anxious. She’d never be able to get through this.
She practiced a few lines and flipped the mic off. Chantal and Seth cheered. She climbed down off the stage on wobbly legs. Seth rushed forward and offered his hand. Grateful, she took the offered support.
“Wow, that was terrible,” she grumbled. Terrible didn’t even cut it.
“Actually, that was pretty good. You’ll be great tomorrow.”
Chantal hurried over. “You were great.”
She highly doubted that, but she’d accept the praise. “I guess we managed today.” She grinned. They’d done it. One day down, and one to go. “Let’s head back to the train.”
Ngozi rose from a chair in the back of the gym and pocketed her cell phone. “All finished?” she asked as they walked toward her.
“Is there a good place to get dinner nearby?” Seth asked. “All those kids made me hungry.”
