Page 13 of The Best Christmas Choir Ever

“Do you?” she said, skeptical.

“Of course. I realize Doris sort of put you up to it.”

Charlie crossed her arms. Standing in this room, with a piano to their left, it felt like they were supposed to break into some sort of awkward duet. “It’s not like you politely declined her offer.”

“Is that what you were expecting?”

“I did say I was busy dealing with Gram’s house.”

“She didn’t seem that concerned about it.”

A surge of irritation flickered at the base of Charlie’s spine. God, she was going to call Alicia just to tell her how annoying he was.

“And she did seem to think you could make time for an old…friend.”

“I’m not exactly sure that’s what I would call us,” Charlie said.

“No?”

“You tend to remember your friends, don’t you?”

Silence stretched between them. Thick, uncomfortable silence. Charlie was going to choke on it. She had half a mind to bail on this whole volunteer gig. The only thing holding her to her promise was the fact that Gram had already started rounding up other residents to attend, and she didn’t want to embarrass her. Or disappoint her.

“I should see if the piano is in tune,” she murmured.

“Right.” Julian stepped aside, but before she could reach the piano he said, “Ah, here we go!” Charlie turned as he waved a group of peppery-haired residents into the room. “Welcome, welcome! Everyone please take a seat. I am so excited to formally introduce you to our newest music director, Charlie…” He hesitated.

“Ward,” she supplied with a frown. Honestly! Had he forgotten that, too?

“Just making sure it hadn’t changed in the last eight years,” he said under his breath.

What? Did he think she was married? Almost as if he’d read her mind, his eyes flicked down to her left hand, then back up.

“Charlie Ward,” he continued. “I’m sure some of you have already met Doris. Charlie is Doris’s granddaughter, and she has graciously offered to volunteer her time with us today.”

Charlie didn’t know about graciously, but she plastered a smile on her face anyway. It was a beaming smile, all teeth—the kind that used to light up stages. The show must go on.

But how could it? The fact that she was even considering performing made her smile fall away. The last time she did this was with Tom and the Austin Symphony Orchestra. That was close to three years ago now. Her stomach soured at the thought.

There was solitary whoop that might have come from Gram and a general murmur of interest as the residents found their seats.

Julian turned to her. “Well, that’s it for me. You’re on.”

“Wait!” She grabbed his hand, her pulse kicking up in her throat as his fingers twisted around hers briefly. It felt…good. How tightly he held her. And that was all wrong. She shook her head, eyebrows converging in the center of her forehead. Because with the good came the bad. She didn’t get one without the other. “I don’t… I’m not sure I can do this.”

He chuckled. “Stage fright?”

Charlie opened her mouth to say something, but her heart was beating so uncomfortably fast she thought she might be sick, so she snapped it closed. She couldn’t perform for these people. Not the way Gram wanted. Not without Tom. It wouldn’t be right. Guilt tightened like a vice around her rib cage, and she struggled for her next breath.

“Hey,” Julian said, placing both hands on her shoulders. He rubbed them up and down, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. “Are you okay?”

“I—” She couldn’t find the words to explain about losing Tom or about not performing since he’d passed. She’d hardly done much singing at all, avoiding the business, turning down jobs. She’d taught a bit of piano here and there to make ends meet, but it wasn’t the same. This felt like she was about to stomp on Tom’s memory. How did she wrap all that up into words that would make sense to Julian?

His thumbs turned circles against her arms, and Charlie felt heat creep up her neck. It was like reliving her youth, hands sliding over her, her body reacting to the touch. She wanted to lean into the comfort. No, no, no! She needed to lock the feelings back up in that box, bolt it closed and toss it into the deepest part of the ocean.

“No one here has any big expectations of you,” Julian said, leaning close enough that he could look her in the eye. His whispered words caressed her cheek. “You know what I was thinking about?”

“What?” Her gaze followed his as he dropped his hands.