Wind blew across the front porch, rustling William’s tuxedo coattails. Lyssa stepped onto the stage.
“Did you feel that?” she asked him, goose bumps racing up and down her arms. William grinned, lowering his microphone
“The winds of change,” he answered
Just past the porch, the light of a thousand candles winked in the darkness like fireflies. The gasps and whispers of surprise had died down and now everyone’s eyes were on Lyssa, waiting for what she would do
“Are you ready?” William asked. Lyssa just smiled. She was ready—ready for everything the wind had in store. She stepped forward, taking the microphone.
“Hi, y’all,” she said, her voice booming out over the crowd. “My name is Lyssa Lee.”
People cheered. The sound was like an ocean wave crashing through the still evening air. Lyssa held her breath, certain the water would hit her at any second and all of this would be washed away. Her hands felt slick against the microphone. The butterflies were back. Their wings fluttered silently in her chest
“I’m here to sing you a song,” Lyssa continued. The microphone amplified her voice, making her sound much more confident than she felt. “My mom used to sing it to me before I went to bed.”
Lyssa didn’t say the last part—that this was the song her mom used to sing in the hospital before falling asleep every night. That it was the last song she ever sang to Lyssa
Lyssa clenched her eyes shut and held the microphone close to her mouth, picturing her mom’s beautiful face. Her throat felt tight, but she forced the song out anyway
“Once upon a yesterday, I lived so very far away…But now that I’m here, I’m here to stay.”
Lyssa tried to hold the memory of her mom in her head while she sang, but, surprisingly, she found that it was Michael’s face that she saw. Michael making her lunch. Michael tucking her in at night. Michael sitting next to her mom’s hospital bed, holding Ana’s hand while she slept
As the memories flooded Lyssa’s mind, her voice grew stronger and her nerves disappeared like dandelion seeds in the wind. She forced her voice out, sending it soaring over the crowd like a bird
“We could go to Tuscaloosa, we could go to Timbuktu. All I need is you. Being with you feels like home to me.”
She held that last note, stretching it out until her lungs felt like two balloons that were about to pop
The audience began to cheer. As their applause swelled, Lyssa thought she heard the rhythmic sound of drums, banging underneath the chanting, cheering voices. Lyssa turned and glanced over her shoulder
Chloe sat at the silver drum set, beating the drums in a steady, smooth rhythm. Her neon-green hair hung over her face as she crashed a drumstick over a cymbal, her arms a blur of speed. Lyssa had never sung this song fast before. The rhythm of the drums seemed to beat up through her heart. Together, she and Chloe belted out:
“Being with you feels like home.”
Next, Lyssa heard the clear, beautiful sound of a flute. Penn climbed onto the stage next to her. She must have run back to her room and grabbed the flute she played in the jazz band at school. Lyssa threw an arm around her friend and together they belted even louder:
“Being with you feels like home.”
Demo broke in, spitting and humming into his hands. The people in the audience threw their hands in the air and pumped their fists with his beat. Demo did a front flip onto the stage and then bopped over to Lyssa while the audience below them clapped and cheered. Lyssa joined in. Her voice mingled with the crowd until she didn’t know where she ended and everyone else began
More people climbed onto the porch. The mermaids from the Siren Choir arranged themselves behind Lyssa and started performing a line dance. Their glittery silver dresses gave off their own light, making the mermaids look like dancing disco balls
Tiresias came next. He glided up the stairs with such grace it looked like he was floating several feet off the ground. He’d found another microphone somewhere and started singing backup, his voice deep and throaty
“Being with you feels like home,” they all crooned together.
Standing here, surrounded by Penn and Tiresias and Demo and Chloe and the mermaids, Lyssa thought she could hear her mom’s voice. It floated above them all, singing along
Then something flashed from the street—a new headlight. Lyssa threw a hand over her eyes and squinted into the light, but she couldn’t see who—or what—was approaching. Someone stepped in front of the headlight, casting a shadow over the porch. One by one, all of the voices singing along with Lyssa dropped out until it was so quiet Lyssa could have heard a sunflower petal drop. She held her breath as the shadow drew closer. William scurried across the stage and took the microphone from Lyssa.
“I have a very special announcement to make,” the man in the tuxedo said. “We have a guest with us tonight, someone who heard about our protest—”
“I’ll take it from here.” A woman’s voice—deep and rumbling, like thunder—cut him off
Excitement buzzed along Lyssa’s skin and suddenly she felt much too light, like she might float right off this stage and up into the stars. She clenched her hands together in little fists
No. It couldn’t be
“You think you’re slick, but I know your tricks…” sang the voice. Just behind Lyssa, Chloe started playing her drums, tapping out a slow, steady beat.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the man in the tuxedo announced, “please welcome, after a year of silence, the one, the only…Athena!”
The crowd exploded into roars and screams. It wasn’t until their screams and applause started to die down that Lyssa realized she’d been screaming and clapping right along with them. Athena stepped into the light and Lyssa’s mouth dropped open
It was Scarlett—and it wasn’t. Athena had a platinum-blond beehive hairdo, just like the mermaid from the Siren Choir. She wore rhinestone-covered glasses that were identical to the woman’s from the whirlpool. But she had Scarlett’s fur coat and the bright pink cowboy boots Athena wore to every concert. The boots had real spurs that clanked against the porch as she crossed over to Lyssa.
Clink, clink, clink.
“Hey there, Ladybug,” Athena said. “How’s it going? Still nervous?”
Lyssa opened and closed her mouth. She had so many questions, but when she finally found her voice, all she managed to say was, “Nope. Are you?”
Athena smiled wider. “Are you kidding? I have my good luck charm here with me.”
“So you…” Lyssa started. “You’re Athena? Really?”
The singer nodded. “Yup. Crazy world, huh? Now what do you say? Mind if I finish up this song with you?”
The backup music started again. Chloe pounded on the drums and Penn blew into her flute, sending notes soaring up toward the stars. Demo lowered his face to his hands and purred out a beat while Tiresias joined the other mermaids, all humming along
Athena took her hand as Lyssa lifted the microphone to her lips
“I’d like to dedicate this to my dad,” Lyssa said. “My real dad. I don’t think he’s here today, but, well, his name is Michael.”
She took a deep breath, then sang the last line of her mom’s song:
“Whether I sail across the sea, stay on the couch, or climb a tree. Being with you feels like home to me.”
Athena squeezed Lyssa’s hand, singing the last line with her one more time: “Being with you feels like home to me.”
The audience roared and clapped. Lyssa felt happy and dizzy and also just a little regretful. She still missed her mom—she knew that she would always miss her mom, even with the magical signs she felt sure her mom would always send her
But she missed Michael, too. If he’d been there, he would have tweaked her microphone to make her sound clearer, and he’d have been sure to record the entire show. And now that the show was done, he’d have insisted Lyssa go out for a celebratory veggie burger with him at her favorite diner
Lyssa forced her grin wider, trying to enjoy her moment. But it was like Scarlett had said—it was hard to sing when the most important people weren’t there to hear it. Despite all the new friends she’d made, her trip across the country had made her realize that Michael was as important to her as Athena or Penn or even her mom. Michael was her family
“Lyssa!”
People moved aside until there was a clear path right down the center of the front yard. Lyssa shielded her eyes and stared down the path, dropping her microphone when a bicycle tore down it. The bicycle looked brand new and was covered in gadgets, their screens winking in the candlelight
Now Lyssa didn’t have to force her smile. It was Michael!
His hair was a mess and his glasses were on upside down, but it was him! Lyssa felt like someone had just lit a round of fireworks inside her chest. She jumped off the stage and ran toward Michael. He threw his arms around her. He was wearing a flannel shirt that smelled like pine needles and the fabric softener from the house in Kirkland Home, Lyssa thought, taking a deep breath.
“Your father called when you ran away—he told me you kept talking about some protest, you had to get to the protest.” Michael said all of this in one breath. He smiled as he looked down at Lyssa. There were tears in his eyes
“When I saw you singing up there, I thought I was looking at your mom. You looked just like her.”
Lyssa’s throat closed up and she knew that any second, she would begin crying. She didn’t know what to say—it was maybe the most wonderful thing anyone could have ever said to her. She’d always wanted to be like her mom
“Your glasses are on upside down,” she said finally
Michael pulled his glasses off and put them on correctly
“Listen,” he said, looking down at his shoes. “I don’t tell you this a lot, Lyssa. I’m new at this whole father thing and sometimes I feel like I’m doing a terrible job. But I love you. I do.”
Lyssa reached out and grabbed his hand. “It’s okay, Michael. I love you, too.” She squeezed his stomach, and he hugged her so hard he picked her up off her feet
The audience was jumping up and down, shouting for an encore. To Lyssa’s surprise, it was Michael who started up the stairs. Athena offered him her microphone
“I have an announcement to make,” he said. His voice echoed across the yard and everyone fell silent. He swallowed, tightening his fingers around the microphone
“My sister, Nora, is a lawyer, Lyssa—that’s part of why I wanted to move closer to her,” Michael said. He fumbled with his glasses, then glanced down at Lyssa. When he spoke again, he didn’t gaze up at the rest of the crowd; he looked only at her.
“We’ve been investigating the Austin city bylaws and we discovered a loophole.”
Lyssa held her breath as Michael continued
“Back in 1973, Austin passed a law that no family home left to the community in a will can be torn down without express consent from the living descendants. Now, we happen to have the last living descendant of Ana Lee right here.”
Michael knelt on the stage next to Lyssa
“Lyssa,” he said. “What do you think? Should we let the Austin Real Estate Corporation. tear this place down?”
“No!” Lyssa shouted. Once again, the audience began to cheer. Michael picked Lyssa up and spun her around the stage. Her wig fell off and her braids whipped out behind her
A man twice Michael’s size in a hard hat stormed up the stairs. He started shouting at Michael, but Michael simply set Lyssa back down on the stage and pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket. He handed it to the man in the hard hat, pointing to a section that Lyssa could see had been highlighted. The bylaws. As the man read, his face grew redder and redder. Finally, he took off his hard hat and threw it on the stage. Michael picked it up and tossed it into the crowd. With more cheers, the people below threw it back and forth, like it was a beach ball
“All right, Scooting Star,” Michael said, turning to Lyssa “Let’s get out of here.”
“How did you know about the development company?” Lyssa asked, following Michael down the steps. Behind them, Chloe started in on the drums again and Athena began singing Lyssa’s favorite song, “Tricks.”
“I’ve known about it for months,” Michael said. “That’s what I’ve been doing in my room every night. Searching the bylaws, looking for a loophole. You didn’t think I’d let them take away your mom’s garden, did you?”
Lyssa started to get that firecracker feeling inside her chest again. She had no words for what she wanted to say to Michael. She could only reach out for his hand and squeeze.
Together they wove through the cheering crowd and walked back into the garden. Lyssa led them back to the rickety bench that she and her mom had built themselves. She leaned over to study the right leg, quickly finding the heart she and her mom had carved on the back. She traced the lines with her finger
“How did you know I’d be here?” she asked, sitting back up. Michael laughed
“Penn. She admitted that you found out about the demolition, and I knew you’d find some way to make it back here. You’re a lot more like your mom than you’ll ever know
“Besides,” he added, pulling a newspaper out of his back pocket. “I had this trail to guide me to you.”
Frowning, Lyssa took the newspaper from Michael and stared down at the pictures. Four pictures showed tomato plants growing in the strangest places: up and down the marina in Kirkland, behind a motel whirlpool, along the side of a salty lake
“You must’ve been leaking seeds everywhere you went,” Michael said, pointing to the photos. “People have been discovering your tomatoes all along the west side of the country. You’re inspiring people, Lyssa. Just like your mom always did. It’s all right here in the story.”
Lyssa felt her smile stretch ear to ear. “Maybe we can plant some more when we get back to…when we get back home.”
Michael cleared his throat, then slipped off his glasses and wiped them on his T-shirt. It was the first time Lyssa had ever called his house in Kirkland home. She liked the way it sounded
“We could do that,” he said. For a moment they sat together in silence. Lyssa reached up and slipped her hand into Michael’s
“Your mom isn’t going anywhere, Lyssa,” he said. He looked up at the sky. “And if there’s anything I can do to help you remember her, you just let me know.”
The grandmother cat jumped onto the bench. It stretched its neck, rubbing its face on Lyssa’s arm. She scratched the cat under her chin
“You could get my grandmother some coffee,” she said finally. Michael glanced down at the cat, then leaned over and rubbed her behind the ears
“Right. Let’s go, then.” Michael folded the newspaper article up and started to put it in his back pocket
“Wait,” Lyssa said. “Can I keep that?”
“Sure.” Michael picked up her backpack and unzipped it, pulling out the school journal Lyssa had been writing in for the past several days. “Oh, hey!” he said, flipping through the pages. “You finished your school project.”
“What? No I…” Lyssa started to say, but she let her sentence trail off when she looked down at the journal. All her letters to Penn added up to a story of how she’d spent her summer. Plus, there was the recipe for peanut butter and banana brownies and Circe’s PB&J, and the receipt from the costume shop, and a bus ticket stub from her ride to Oregon. Stuck to a few of the pages were the last of the tomato seeds. It was like a big scrapbook of all her adventures
“Wow, Lyssa. This is very creative.” Grinning, Michael placed the newspaper article between the last pages and snapped the journal shut. “I think your teachers are going to love it.”
He handed the journal back to Lyssa and she tucked it, carefully, inside her backpack. Lyssa picked up the cat and, together, she and Michael headed to the house. Not too far in the distance, she heard a thousand voices coming together, singing
Everything was perfect. Everything except…
“Hey, Michael,” Lyssa said. She shifted the grandmother cat’s weight in her arms. “I forgot to tell you. Zip…I mean, you know my scooter?”
Michael raised an eyebrow over his glasses. “Yeah?”
“Well, it’s just…it’s kind of broken.”
“Do you want me to help you build a new one?”
“Actually,” Lyssa said, giving the grandmother cat an extra squeeze, “I was thinking you could help me build a bike. A yellow one. Maybe it can be my birthday present.”
“I think we can work that out.” Smiling, Michael put a hand on Lyssa’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “We can even race each other around the lake—after you’re done being grounded, of course.”