Maggie’s headache had slipped away by the time her dad convinced her she was hitting her groove. She would never have guessed she could feel so happy after seeing her mom with another man, but her dad was so amazing that way. He coaxed her at the right moments, surprising her with how well he understood her voice and what she needed to do to get it right. He was not as good as Nathan, but he sure came close.
Before she knew what was happening, Eddie was back with the coffees and Todd pulled her out of her chair. “You’re going to record this song with us,” he ordered as he snatched two coffees from Eddie and shoved one into her hands.
Record? She almost dropped the coffee as her heart slammed against her ribs. She followed her dad into the recording room and dug her feet into the floor as he nudged her toward the lead microphone. Lynnette grabbed her bass and stood up. She gave Maggie a sly look, as if she had been expecting this since the second she’d shown up. Ray picked up his fiddle and the others got into position. Todd pushed her hard enough to nearly knock her over.
“Get in front of the microphone, Mags. Your voice is beautiful. You’ve always wanted this. What’s the hold-up?”
She shook her head. “I’ll mess up again. I’ll go out of tune.”
“Then we’ll start over or Eddie can fix it,” Ray said as he patted her on the back and took her coffee and set it on the floor. “Don’t worry so much. This is supposed to be fun.”
“It’s nice to see you,” Lynnette said with a wink at Maggie. “We’ve missed you.”
Maggie wasn’t sure if any of them knew about what had happened last night. Her cheeks turned warm as Todd adjusted the microphone for her height and handed her a guitar. It was not her baby, but it would do.
Todd handed her a pair of headphones and she put them on. The last time she’d recorded in a studio was when Cole had tried to help her with her voice and she’d realized how bad she really was. That had been a disaster, and she’d ended up swearing she’d never professionally record again until she was absolutely certain her voice was fixed. It wasn’t fixed, and she was sure she would screw up again, but when she looked over at her dad sliding on his headphones next to her, she realized it didn’t matter. He believed in her, and that was what she had wanted more than singing, more than writing, more than anything.
“We’ll do a few run-throughs and work out some kinks,” he said to Eddie, who gave him a thumbs-up. “You ready, Mags? We won’t do any separating out today. Just get some digital to work with, ’kay?”
“What about Mom?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“What about her?”
He couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice, that sagging lilt he would never get rid of when it came to his wife. Their marriage had failed. Maggie imagined it would take him a good long forever to get over that. Her too. She wanted to ask, “What if she walks in here and I’m singing her part? Will she care?” but she didn’t. Calm down, Maggie. Chill out. Mom’s made her choices and you have to make yours.
She wiped her palms on her jeans and gave her dad a sticky smile. “Nothing. Let’s go.”
Aaron, the rhythm guitarist, let out a whoop, then there was total silence until Mark’s drums played through Maggie’s headphones and everybody came in. She played her chords and came in with her dad, her voice clear and strong. Singing with him was like wrapping herself in his hug, all warm and fatherly and, well, perfect. It helped that she wasn’t on stage with three hundred people watching her. She could get used to this, but as she sang her way through the lyrics she knew so well, her mind caught on something different. It was not her voice that felt so good coming out of her throat. It was her lyrics. She sang at the top of her lungs.
“Above these pines, there’s a sunrise
floatin’ in a sea of blue.
It’s clean and it’s stark and it reminds me of you.
But the sun ain’t cold, and I’ve been told
true love only comes once.
So I’m ditchin’ my shame, and I’m travelin’
light, ’cause I’ve been sorry for months.
Sun, sun, sunrise, will you take me with you?
Sun, sun, sunrise, it’s time we lit somethin’ new.”
Todd smiled at her as she sang the last two lines of the verse with him. She tried to smile back, but the last two lines bothered her. It was something small, but she knew it could be better. Her dad’s smile faded as he signaled to Eddie to cut the recording.
“What’s the matter, Mags? You weren’t out of tune.”
She shrugged. “I know, but, um, can I have a pen and paper?”
“What for?” He looked puzzled, and Maggie glanced at Ray, who was grinning from ear to ear.
“Ray, don’t look at me like that,” she laughed. “It makes me think you’re about to pull a prank on me.”
He leaned toward her. “Just curious,” he laughed. “You’re really in your element, Maggie.”
Eddie walked in with a pad of paper and a pen, and she took both and set them on a music stand between her and her dad. She could feel everyone watching as she scribbled out the last verse, mouthing the words over and over, trying to hear the music with the rise and fall of the vowels and consonants.
Scribbling out the last two lines, she kept her pen poised over the paper. Lynnette cleared her throat, but Maggie ignored her. She wanted to get this right. She started writing, and after a few minutes and a deep breath, she turned to face everyone. “Do you guys mind if I change a few things?”
“No, not at all,” Todd replied. “Your lyrics are beautiful as they are, but if you want to change something, that’s all right. Run it by us.”
She nodded and tapped her foot to get the beat in her head, listening to the music in her mind as she opened her mouth to sing the last two lines a capella.
“Sun, sun, sunrise, it’s showin’ me somethin’ new.
Sun, sun, sunshine, it’s bringin’ me back to you.”
Smiles filled the room, and in the back of her mind, Maggie saw her lyrics burning in the fire. Maybe she’d had to burn all of them to see a brighter light. Maybe her voice was important, but not in the way she’d always thought. For now, she would sing in her mom’s place since she wasn’t here. For now, she would step into her shoes just to try them on.
* * *
“You drove here on your own?” Todd asked, nearly dropping his guitar when she walked with him out to the parking lot. The rest of the band was behind them, but they were all dispersing now. Maggie waved goodbye and stopped behind her mom’s truck. There was no way her dad would let her drive it back home. Where was home, anyway? She felt her cell phone heavy in her back pocket. She was hit with sudden guilt for leaving Nathan at the tree farm with her mom and Gordon. She should call Nathan. She should call Cole.
“I kind of stole Mom’s truck,” she mumbled. “I drove on the freeway.”
Todd stroked his chin and glanced at her. “Did you get your license?”
“Not yet.”
He nodded. She loved that he was not yelling at her for breaking the law. He slid an arm around her and squeezed. “I’m staying at Ray’s. Want to come over for dinner?”
“That sounds good. Can Ray cook?”
Todd laughed. “He makes a mean beef stew, or, if you want, we can stop by the store on our way over and pick up some more salami and pickles.”
She turned and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. “Sounds perfect, Dad.”
“First, let’s get your mom’s truck back to her. Where were they?”
She backed away and swallowed. “The tree farm. That means you might have to meet Gordon.”
“Now’s as good a time as any. No use in denying what’s already happened, right?”
She shrugged. Might as well get it over with. She climbed into the passenger side of her mom’s truck and pulled out her phone so she could text Nathan.
I’m sorry about what happened. Can you forgive me?
Then she texted Cole.
I don’t want our friendship falling apart over any of this.
Nathan texted back.
Of course I forgive you. I took your mom and Gordon home (her place), just so you know. Are you staying at my place tonight? Do you need me to come and get you?
She told her dad where her mom was and he changed course and headed home. Her phone beeped again and he laughed. “You kids and your texting.”
She laughed and read Cole’s message.
Nothing is going to fall apart over this, don’t worry. I’m sorry if you felt like you had to leave last night. Do you think we should talk about this more so we both feel better about it? Do you want me to help you get your license soon? Get another place to live while you’re figuring stuff out?
She lowered the phone and stared out the window. Cole. Nathan. Her. A big mess. She needed Grace.
* * *
When they pulled up to the house, Maggie spotted Gordon’s stupid Christmas tree on the front lawn. She glared at it as her dad pulled into the garage. Her stomach was tied in knots. She didn’t want to see Gordon again.
“You coming?” Todd asked when he cut off the engine and got out. She stared at the shelf along the wall, filled with old amps and instruments her family hadn’t used in years. Other people had shelves filled with oily rags and old tools. Not the Roads family. She wasn’t normal and there wasn’t any use in wishing she was. She had to fit into her own box, forge her own way.
She slid out of the truck and trudged into the house. She wanted to go straight to her room, but leaving her dad alone to face the waiting disaster seemed too cruel. Inside, she heard the faint sound of a guitar and the high notes of her mom’s voice.
“Sounds like she’s in the music room with the door open,” Todd said, jangling Sandy’s keys in his hand. On their way through the house, he called Ray and asked if he could come over to pick them up.
“You want to come over for dinner, then?” he asked Maggie as he hung up. “Or do you want to stay here with your mom and her new boyfriend?”
Why did he have to sound so carefree about this? He’d been thrown out like the trash. That was his personality, though, and he’d made his own mistakes too.
“I don’t know what I want to do yet,” she answered as they reached the music room. Sandy was sitting on a barstool with her guitar on her lap. When she looked up and saw Todd, her fingers froze on the strings and her face went as white as a sheet.
“Todd,” she whispered.
“Sandy.” He leaned against the doorframe and looked Gordon up and down. He was sitting on another barstool, facing Sandy. It looked like she’d been singing for him. Her eyes were icy when she looked at Maggie.
“You told him.”
Maggie folded her arms. “Of course I told him, Mom. Why do you think I stole the truck?”
She was speechless, either with anger or surprise, Maggie couldn’t tell. Finally, she slid off the stool and walked across the room. Maggie was enjoying the stupefied look on Gordon’s face. It was clear he felt out of place. Sandy stood in front of Todd. In her boots, she was almost as tall as he was. Their eyes met, and Maggie imagined them pretending to be in love again. They’d pretended for so long it had to be a habit by now.
“I’m sorry, Todd,” she whispered. “I was goin’ to tell you.”
He nodded. Maggie had to hand it to him. He was keeping his cool like a pro. He didn’t seem shut down or cold. He seemed understanding, resigned, and sad. Maggie supposed if things hadn’t been going well between them for a long time, he’d grown used to the idea of living without her.
“I guessed about the baby,” he said carefully. “And Maggie confirmed it.”
That did it. Tears spilled down Sandy’s face and she looked away. “I don’t know if it was yours or Gordon’s. I’m sorry, Todd. I’m . . . I’m a terrible person for not knowin’. Gordon has been there for me when you weren’t . . . when all you wanted to do was keep pretendin’, so I kept pretendin’ and I . . . I’m so sorry.”
She fell against him and he folded his arms around her and let her cry for a minute. Then he led her over to Gordon, who looked up at Todd, frozen, as if he expected to get his ass kicked any second.
Todd held out his hand until Gordon tentatively shook it. “I suppose we should introduce ourselves,” Todd said in a tight voice as Sandy pulled away from him and stood on her own.
Gordon nodded as surprise filled his expression. Maggie backed out of the room and headed upstairs. She didn’t want to watch from the sidelines anymore.