Page 65 of The Best Christmas Choir Ever

But above the laughter was a shocked outcry of voices. Julian had to duck a cane that was jabbed in his direction. He backed away from the crowd, envisioning a horde of Glendale’s finest chasing him through the halls.

“Now you’ve done it,” Charlie said, grinning.

“But just think of the audience reception!” Julian explained, getting the piano between him and the choir. “I’m thinking outside the box here.”

“Don’t think we won’t vote you out of this choir,” Harriet warned. “I’m still not over the gingerbread house results.”

“Okay, I’m reading the room.” Julian held his hands up in surrender. “There will be no grandmothers getting sacrificed to the reindeer at Glendale.”

Thirteen

Charlie

“The harmony on that last chorus was gorgeous,” Charlie said, her voice carrying across the room as Last Christmas drew to a close. “Really nice. Let’s take five. Get some water. I want everybody to remember to stay hydrated.”

“That’s what my doctor keeps telling me, too,” Harriet muttered. “Well, that and to stop sneaking éclairs in the middle of the night.”

Charlie shook her head and laughed, the vibration settling deep in her chest. She knuckled the space between her ribs, wondering if that was the key, to let the feelings out in small doses, just a little at a time. “We don’t have long until the competition, so protect your voices. Make sure you’re doing your warmups and cooldowns. After the break, we’ll run the mash-up one more time.”

The residents dispersed, gathering their water bottles. Charlie watched Maggie and Harriet flit to Gram’s side where she was seated at the piano. Her chest warmed, knowing Gram was slowly being enfolded into this little group, that she was finding her people and making connections that would hopefully last long after the choir competition had finished.

The door popped open, and Warren appeared. Charlie waved him over.

“Guess I just missed the performance?” he said.

“You can catch the second act after intermission,” Charlie joked. “Hey, you haven’t seen Frank yet today, have you? We’re definitely missing his baritone. And it’s not like him to skip out on rehearsal.”

“Oh.” Warren scratched at the back of his head, wincing. “Nobody told you?”

“Told me what?” Charlie said.

“Frank wasn’t feeling too great yesterday evening. We ended up having to admit him to the hospital.”

“What?” Charlie said. The words ricocheted around her head. No, that didn’t make sense. “I just saw him yesterday. He came to rehearsal and was fine.” He’d helped her out with her laptop. “We just got the official invite to the competition.”

“I know,” Warren said. “He’s seemed a little rundown for a week now, and then… Well, it can come on hard and fast when you’re older. I can’t go into details, but he’s being taken care of, and that’s the most important part.”

He was fine, Charlie thought again.

Just like Tom had been fine.

She didn’t even know what to say. The shock of the news melted through her, burning as it went. She could feel bile inching up her throat as she glanced around the music room, looking from Gram to all the other residents she’d come to care about these past few weeks. Suddenly, it was all too overwhelming. All she could think about was Tom and hearing those horrible words for the first time: I’m sick, Charlie.

The force of the memory almost winded her. This was why she’d locked up her feelings in the first place. She couldn’t do it again. She clutched at her throat. There was no air in the room.

She needed to be somewhere else, anywhere else. Somewhere she could breathe.

“Excuse me,” she gasped out, crossing the room, desperate for escape. She stopped next to Gram, putting a shaky hand on her shoulder to interrupt her conversation with Harriet and Maggie. “I have to step out for a minute,” she said, barely getting the words out. “Can you get rehearsal going again in about five minutes if I’m not back?”

“Of course,” Gram said, squeezing her hand. As she looked up at Charlie, her smile fell away. “Is everything okay?”

Charlie swallowed down the sick feeling. “Yeah, all good.”

Maggie and Harriet exchanged a nervous glance.

“Charlie,” Gram said, getting to her feet. “You’re very pale.”

“Maybe you should sit down,” Maggie suggested, gesturing to the piano bench.