Page 26 of The Best Christmas Choir Ever

“Charlie, this is Frank,” Julian said, introducing them as Frank guided his wheelchair to the center of the room. “I thought he might enjoy auditioning.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Frank,” she said.

“I explained to Frank that we’re aiming to win a competition. You got your music picked out?” Julian asked him.

Frank produced a tiny speaker from his pocket and plugged his phone in. Charlie was impressed as he accessed Spotify.

“He’s a bit of a tech guru,” Julian muttered to her as he walked back around the table.

Charlie perked up as she heard familiar music start.

“This is ‘Climb Ev’ry Mountain,’” Frank said, introducing his audition piece before he started singing.

Charlie gaped as a rich baritone voice filled the room.

Julian looked at her and held up his arm. “Goose bumps,” he whispered.

The song was traditionally sung by sopranos, but Charlie appreciated how seamlessly Frank adapted to the music. It was beautiful. She could have listened to him all day.

When Frank stopped singing, she and Julian erupted into applause.

“Wow,” Julian said. “Just wow, Frank. What are you doing hiding that voice?”

“What a treat,” Charlie said. “That number is a particular favorite of mine.”

“From 1959 to 1963,” Frank said, “The Sound of Music ran for more than 1,443 performances at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre.”

Charlie grinned, impressed. “Frank, I did not realize you were such a Broadway fan. I am in excellent company today.”

“Tech guru. Broadway aficionado. He is a man of many talents,” Julian said.

Frank beamed at them both. “I will see you at rehearsal.”

Charlie was pleasantly surprised by his confidence as Julian rolled him into the hallway, inviting in the next auditioner. When Julian plopped back down beside her, she leaned in. “You don’t really expect me to tell any of the residents that they haven’t made the choir, right? Because it sounds like Frank is coming to rehearsals regardless.”

“Is he not good enough?” Julian asked, confused.

The woman in the room started to warble through her audition.

“No, he’s great. I just meant… I don’t think I have the heart to make cuts.”

“I didn’t really think we would,” Julian admitted. “Thank you, Elaine,” he called. “That was excellent. Can you send in the next person?”

“Then what’s all this audition nonsense for?” Charlie asked.

“Because holding auditions gets them fired up. And if they’re fired up, they’ll be excited and eager to win.” Julian added Elaine’s name next to Frank’s in his notebook. “Plus this is what choir codirectors do, don’t they?”

Charlie huffed and settled into her chair, but she couldn’t deny that a small part of her was entertained.

Over the next hour, they watched over a dozen auditions. Gram was a soprano. Maggie, more of a mezzo soprano. Harriet was an alto while Jim Henshaw was a tenor. There was no one quite like Frank, but Charlie was impressed with the natural talent she saw, and she stole Julian’s notebook to make her own lists. Because now she wasn’t just entertained by the auditions, she was laughing at Julian’s little asides—why did laughing feel so much easier with him?—and scribbling notes on how the voices complemented each other.

“All right,” Julian said as the last resident left the room. “I think that’s it.”

He took Charlie’s finalized list, pinned it to a board at the back of the room, then swung open the door. “We would like to thank everyone for auditioning today,” he announced in a booming voice. “Unfortunately, we can only take the very best.”

Charlie smirked, knowing no one had been cut.

“Please check to see if your name is on the list and then take a seat.”