Winning Her Love (The Rocky Mountain Christmas Train)

9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

S eth watched Joy pace back and forth behind the closed stage curtain. Her nerves both echoed and amplified his. Only a few children had arrived. So far, they were playing quietly with little pushing or shoving. The oldest four had yet to arrive, and he honestly wondered if they would. None had an irreplaceable role in the performance, which was a blessing, but he’d be disappointed if they gave up on what could be a real life-changing experience.

He’d loved choir as a youth, at least until that concert when his voice had cracked. Thinking about that day still mortified him. He shuddered just thinking of it. They’d sold seven hundred tickets, and he’d had a lead role. On stage in front of a packed house, he stepped up for his first solo, opened his mouth, and nothing came out. He’d tried again, and his voice rose above the hushed crowd. Beautiful and sweet, until it cracked. He bolted off stage and hid in the shadows behind the backdrops. His understudy, so to speak, took over the role, and the concert went on without him. It was the last time he sang in public.

Tonight, he was hoping, no, he was praying, for a Christmas miracle that this would go off without a hitch. Especially for Joy.

Joy hurried to his side. “There aren’t any empty seats,” she cried, her eyes wide and scared. “People are lined up along the walls.” She grasped his arm like she was grabbing a lifeline. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.” He placed his hand over hers. She was icy cold. “Listen to me, Joy.” He paused until he had her attention. “I can tell that you’re a competent woman. I know that you’ve done great things raising a child without a father. Having a daughter with cerebral palsy must be an even bigger challenge. You’ve dealt with all these kids and being thrust into playing the piano along with your emcee role. You’re strong, and capable; you can do this. I believe in you.” With each statement, her eyes widened. When he finished, her bruising grip on his arm slacked.

“Do you think so?” she pleaded for reassurance.

“I know so. You’ve got this, Joy.” He shook off her grip and grabbed her shoulders. “The person running this contest, whoever that benefactor is, seems to know everything about us. They’ve given us hard tasks. Maybe not logistically difficult, but ones that are personal challenges. I think they’re doing double duty and getting us to stretch our limits, and they’re doing that for a reason. Something besides winning the big cash prize. This is your test.”

“O o okay,” her voice shook.

“You can do it, Mama,” Chantal called from her seat in the wings. With more than a full audience of spots sold, she’d given up her seat to sit backstage.

“I’m in just as bad a spot. I’m dealing with kids, for Santa’s sake. Spending time with my nieces and nephew is hard for me. My guts are rolling, but I’m going to do this. For myself, for the chance to win. Because if I do, it, if we do it, our charities stand to gain a lot.”

The pinched expression on her face lightened, though her frown didn’t disappear entirely. Slowly, she nodded and pushed out an exaggerated breath. “Thanks. That helps.”

The timer on his watch chimed. He shut it off. He clapped three times, and the children turned to look at him. “Okay, guys and girls, it’s ten minutes to showtime. Miss Joy and I know you can do this. The gym is full, but remember, these are your families and friends. You’ve practiced this for months. You showed us yesterday that you’ve got it down pat. This will be as easy as pie.”

“I like pie,” one boy piped up, and everyone laughed.

“There will be pie and cake, and other goodies after the concert. So, let’s pull together and do this. Are you with me?”

“Yes.” The positive reply was loud and eager.

“If you have to use the bathroom, do it now. Go in pairs and stay together.” The bathrooms were right outside the stage door. He stationed himself near the door and kept track of who left and who came back.

His alarm chimed again with three minutes to curtain time. Everyone was back from the bathroom and in their coordinating outfits. As expected, three had needed to be altered. One of the parents took on the simple alterations, saving Joy from the difficulty of doing them by hand.

Seth urged everyone onto the risers, straightening their outfits and smoothing unruly hair as they climbed up. “You guys look amazing,” he said. Joy added her agreement.

“But Becky, Amara, and those boys aren’t here,” Amy whined.

“That’s okay,” Seth reassured her. He looked at every child, smiling positively. “I hoped they’d come, but you can do this without them. Raise your hand if you know the Christmas story or can read it well enough to read to the audience.” Half the kids raised their arms. “Okay, you, I’m sorry I forgot your name.” He pointed to a young man with floppy hair.

“I’m Jed,” the boy said. “I know the story by heart.”

“Okay, if the others don’t show, can I count on you to tell the story? You can take my script, just in case you need it.”

The boy beamed proudly. “Yes, sir.”

With that crisis averted, his watch beeped. Showtime !

“Okay, it’s time. Settle down everyone. Are you ready?”

They all nodded. There was a thump and a rustling at the side of the stage near Chantal’s chair. Startled, Seth whirled round.

The last four students had arrived and were tossing their jackets aside.

“Aw, I wanted to tell the story,” Jed said.

“Go ahead,” the original storyteller said.

“What if you did it together? Each could read a paragraph. Take turns,” Seth suggested. He knew that it was important for them all to take part.

The boys looked at each other and nodded slowly.

“Perfect,” Seth praised, keeping his relief at both the agreement and the late arrival to himself. “Okay, remember, no matter what, Miss Joy and I are proud of you. Okay, Joy, take it away.”

After waiting a few seconds for her to reach the mic, he nodded to the stagehand and the curtain slowly pulled back.

Joy clenched her hands behind her back and addressed the crowd. This was brutal. She scanned the room, looking for a friendly face. Jenny sat right up front. Joy kept looking and recognized several people from the train. She focused on Jenny, who nodded slightly and smiled. That simple smile went a long way to calming Joy’s jumping heart.

With her pulse thrumming in her ear like an out-of-sync metronome, she flipped on the mic, swallowed hard, and said, “Welcome to tonight’s performance of the Lyons Youth Choir. The Lyons com-nunity…” Someone in the audience chuckled.

She closed her eyes and took a breath. “Sorry about that. The Lyons Community Choir and the food bank. Thank you for coming out tonight.” Her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. Her lips stuck to her teeth. She took a sip of her water.

“The Rocky Mountain Christmas Train is happy to help with this worthwhile event. I am your emcee, Joy Spencer. My assistant is Seth Mathison. We are partners in the train’s challenge. We are team Triple Threat, so named because my daughter is part of our team.” She gave a brief rundown on the train’s first annual event and how it would benefit many charities. Following her script, though not word for word, she encouraged everyone to tune into social media to follow the contestants’ progress.

“Now, for our first number.” She turned off the mic and, knees shaking, made her way to the piano. Moving the four-legged stool back, she sat. This event had called for a fancy dress. Fortunately, she had brought a floor-length velvet dress for Christmas dinner. Unfortunately, it was now stuck under the piano stool. She shifted and managed to free her skirt.

After a glance at the youths, she played the opening chords to Frosty the Snowman . The first voices were quiet, too quiet. She steeled herself for disaster. Another voice joined. Then another. Finally, what sounded like the entire choir was singing. By the end of the first verse, the trembling left their voices, and they sang with abandon. They’d done it, they’d lost their nerves and found their joy. In her excitement, her fingers tripped over each other, but the slight stumble didn’t deter the singers.

She paused a moment for applause, then launched into Oh, Holy Night . The choir sang with abandon. At one point, she thought she heard a giggle but ignored it rather than mess up her playing. She was years out of practice, but by all that was holy, she loved playing. She needed to do it more.

As she played the line, ‘Fall on your knees,’ she heard a thunk. The crowd roared with laughter. She risked a fast glance at the risers. Three of the boys in the front row were on their knees.

Her fingers stumbled again; she focused on finding her place. The choir sang, though their voices were light with unspent laughter. The crowd settled, and she risked a glance at the boys. They were back on their feet, acting like nothing had happened. Little stinkers.

Thoughtfully, someone had moved the mic closer to the piano. Following the song, she introduced Amy, who read a short Christmas poem. Hans read a short story, and they were back to singing.

Finally, they were at the nativity scene. Almost done, and she hadn’t butchered anything too badly. She made the introduction, returned to her stool, and turned to face the stage to watch.

The play began with two boys reading the script as the cast acted it out. The audience was dead silent. She heard a familiar tapping sound and spun her head toward the wings. Chantal, dressed as an angel, halo and all, made her way toward center stage.

Joy’s heart stopped. Her vision went blurry. Dammit, Seth. Why did you do this? Why did you put my daughter in danger? He was going to pay for this. She sucked in a breath and gripped her thighs to keep from running to Chantal’s side. If she got hurt or embarrassed, she’d kill Seth.

Chantal reached center stage and shrugged apologetically at Joy. Her smile was a hundred miles wide. She’d never seen her daughter happier. She was glowing. In a high clear voice, she recited her simple lines. She stood straight and strong, grinning until the short skit was wrapped up. She walked off the stage. The entire crowd rose to their feet, giving the children a standing ovation.

Joy sat, stunned, until Seth cleared his throat. She turned and launched into the last two songs. Somehow, between her anger with Seth, and her delight at how Chantal had done, she wrapped up her comments and directed the families and guests to the school’s food service classroom for snacks and beverages.