Page 10 of The Best Christmas Choir Ever

Gram caught her in her arms and pecked her on the cheek. “Good afternoon to you, too.”

Charlie grumbled in the back of her throat. Was it a good afternoon? She’d hardly made a dent packing up Gram’s living room, and she still had both china hutches to tackle. On top of that, now she had to…

In all honesty, she wasn’t entirely clear on what Gram had signed her up for. What exactly did the role of volunteer music director consist of? Was she teaching a class? Did Julian expect her to don a black hat and tap heels and do a little dance across a stage? She probably should have inquired about the expectations, but it had all happened so fast yesterday, and she’d still been annoyed with him, never mind with Gram’s penchant for getting her roped into things. Before she knew it, the elevator doors had closed on Julian’s annoyingly cheerful smile.

It was a dangerous kind of smile—buoyant and maybe even a little bit cheeky. It was that smile that had convinced her to go on a date with him in the first place all those years ago.

Gah! She couldn’t believe he was using it on her again like she was young and naive enough to fall for it.

“You look nice,” Gram was saying as she looped her arm through Charlie’s, guiding her through the lobby.

“I was forced to put on makeup to hide the bags under my eyes.”

“Sure you didn’t dress to impress a certain someone?”

“I will leave right now,” Charlie warned, even as heat spiraled through her. Why the hell would she be trying to impress Julian? He’d made it clear that he hardly remembered their time together, so that was where she was going to leave everything. Forgotten in the past, where it didn’t have any way to hurt her now.

Gram’s lips quirked, the lines by the corners of her mouth deepening. “Oh, come on. Being here isn’t that bad. And you didn’t really think I was just going to let you dump me and run off, did you?”

Charlie scoffed. “Gram, I came all the way out here to help you move in. It’s not like I’m abandoning you.”

Gram stopped walking, reaching out to tuck a lock of Charlie’s hair behind her ear. “Exactly. It’ll do us some good to hang out. It keeps me young and all that.”

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you refer to yourself as old.” If anything, Gram was the one keeping Charlie young.

“My mind is young, these bones, not so much. But they’ve still got some life in them.” Gram squeezed Charlie’s arm gently. “Besides, you told me you had no immediate plans. So if not here, where else would you be running off to?”

Far away from Elm Springs and Tom’s memory and reminders that Gram was getting older and all these damn feelings. She’d already realized it was harder to lock them away here, especially with Christmas right around the corner. Holidays had always been cheerful and festive, with the family packed in at Gram’s house. But without Tom around to share in those holidays…

She needed to be gone before then. Which was why she needed to be spending her time sorting the house and helping Gram get settled instead of getting sidetracked by Julian’s music situation.

“Anyway, I think it’ll be good for you.” Gram put her arm around Charlie’s shoulders, pulling her close. “This might be an opportunity to get in touch with yourself again.”

Oh boy, Charlie knew where this was headed. Gram didn’t mean get in touch with herself, she meant get in touch with music.

“It’s just a fun, no-strings-attached, little volunteer gig.”

“I’m well aware of what this is, and I’m fine, Gram.” The last thing Charlie needed was a pity project at a retirement home.

“If you were fine, you’d have taken that contract in New York City you told me about. That little ensemble role.”

“It wasn’t the right fit. I also told you that.”

“And what of the numerous auditions you’ve been offered over the last couple of years?”

Charlie’s throat felt like it was closing up. She did not want to talk about this. “None of them were the right fit,” she managed to say.

“Charlie—”

“Gram, don’t—”

“It was two years ago,” Gram continued, matter-of-fact. “We all miss Tom.” She gestured around at the building. “But life goes on. It has to. And you have to move with it, or you’ll get swept away.”

Funny, that was the same thing the therapist had told Charlie, back when she’d still been going to therapy. There was a brief period of time after Tom’s passing when Charlie thought therapy might make sense of the gaping hole in her chest. It hadn’t, so she stopped going. “Life isn’t sweeping me away. I’m just reevaluating things.”

“You loved being onstage,” Gram pointed out.

And yet she hadn’t been on a stage since.