Owen looked toward the stage where students were warming up.
“So he was helping kids he didn’t even know.”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Parker wiped her eyes.
“That ridiculous man.”
Daniel laughed.
“He’d probably appreciate that.”
The auditorium began filling.
Families removed coats.
Children whispered backstage.
Programs rustled.
Mrs. Parker sat in the same front row where she’d sat on Halloween.
But this time there was no hidden surprise waiting behind the curtain.
At least not one she didn’t know about.
Owen stood backstage.
He wore a white shirt and dark trousers.
No pumpkin costume.
No jokes.
He looked terrified.
I found him ten minutes before the concert.
“I can’t do this.”
“You’ve been practicing for weeks.”
“Practicing isn’t doing.”
“No.”
He swallowed.
“What if I mess up?”
“You probably will.”
He stared at me.
“Great speech, Mom.”
I smiled.
“Everyone messes up.”
“Mrs. Parker won’t.”
“She’s not singing.”
“Exactly.”
I straightened his collar.
