Grace Unplugged: A Novel (20 page)

“Fine,” he said in a gruff voice, pushing himself from the couch to his feet.

Michelle folded her arms across her front, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Forget it,” she snapped as she turned and walked back to the bedroom.

He just stood there watching as the hall light went off, listening to the solid sound of the bedroom door closing. Perhaps she’d even locked it. Not that he cared. Not that it even mattered. It was as if their missing daughter was turning into a giant wedge that was getting pounded, one day at a time, between them. Oh, sure, they both knew how to pretend they were okay. They knew how to give the right answers. But as time wore on, they were not getting better. Not really.

Michelle gave Johnny plenty of space as they got ready for church the next morning. He could tell she was trying to stay out of his way, as if she was worried that she might rub him wrong. Naturally, this only made him feel worse. He already felt guilty for pushing her away last night—yet he wasn’t even sure how to apologize to her. If he said he was sorry, that he’d wanted to be alone, it would hurt her feelings, and they would be right back where they’d been last night.

He forced a smile as he came into the kitchen. “Smells good,” he said as he poured coffee. “Been baking?”

“Blueberry muffins,” she said in a slightly robotic voice.

“Mmm . . .” His smile grew more genuine.

“You can have one if you want, but they’re really for the Bryants.”

“You’re taking them to church?”

Her brow creased as she handed him a plate with scrambled eggs and sausage on it. “Did you forget that you invited them over here for lunch after church?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nodded as he sneaked a muffin from the basket by the stove.

Johnny sat down at the breakfast nook, then looked over to where Michelle was still fussing around in the kitchen. “You aren’t joining me?”

“I already ate,” she said over her shoulder. “I need to wash up these baking things and clean up the kitchen for lunch. I’m sure the Bryants will be right behind us when we get home after church. Don’t want them to walk into a mess, do we?”

Johnny just shook his head as he reached for a napkin. No, they certainly wouldn’t want the pastor and his wife walking into a mess, would they? As if their lives weren’t in a complete and messy upheaval since Grace had run off. Really, who did she think they were fooling? Out of habit, he bowed his head, but besides a perfunctory blessing his heart didn’t feel the least bit connected to God.

Neither of them spoke on the way to church. But Johnny welcomed the silence, hoping that it would give him a chance to get his spirit in a more worshipful place. However, as they walked into the sanctuary, he had his doubts. Today would be a day when God’s strength would have to be made perfect in weakness. Because he felt whipped.

Somehow Johnny managed to lead the worship team. And, naturally, since Grace wasn’t around, there were no slipups or surprises—everyone performed exactly as they’d done at rehearsal. Johnny should’ve been glad. But all he felt was empty as he went through the mechanics. It was as if some of the heart had gone out of his music, as if it had left with his daughter.

After the service, the Bryants followed them home as planned. As usual, Johnny and Michelle managed to put on their game faces as they welcomed the older couple into their home. As lunch was served, they both managed to act perfectly normal, as if this thing with their daughter wasn’t tearing them apart. How much the pastoral couple could see through this act was anyone’s guess. And sometimes Johnny didn’t even care. But then he remembered his job, their livelihood. He worked for the church—Pastor Tim was his boss. How would it look if the worship minister was falling to pieces?

“We know this has been hard on you,” Sharon said as the four of them had coffee in the living room. “And you two are always in our prayers. You know that.”

“And Grace too,” Tim added.

“If you ever need to talk,” Sharon said gently, “you know that we’re here for you.”

“We’ll be all right,” Michelle assured them. “Really. It’s just hard sometimes.”

“Of course.” Sharon nodded.

“I know Johnny still blames himself sometimes.” Michelle shot him a cautious glance. “Deep down, you know that’s not why she left,
don’t you
?”

He tried not to feel irked that she’d said this in front of Tim and Sharon. But acting nonchalant, he simply shrugged.

“That’s right.” Tim nodded with a compassionate expression. “It’s times like these when everything we’ve ever learned is put to the test and we have to decide if we’re going to believe His word. Are we willing to live it out in our lives? To
walk the walk
?”

Johnny knew his answer should be ‘yes.’ He
wanted
it to be yes. But at the same time he still wanted to protect Grace too. Wasn’t that what dads were supposed to do?

Tim looked from Johnny to Michelle. But then he turned back to Johnny and continued. “It’s times like these when we have to think on what is true,” he said gently. “Really meditate on it. We have a Savior who loves us. We have a Savior who gave His blood for us. And we can rest knowing, I mean, really
knowing
that His Word is true. He will work all things together for good for those who love Him. We may not see it now, but eventually God will be glorified through all this.”

“I think it’s only natural for you to feel somewhat responsible,” Tim said to him. “That’s what parents do. But you need to remember that Grace made her own choice. You realize that, don’t you?”

“Maybe in the daylight.” He looked intently at his pastor, his boss. Maybe Tim deserved the truth. “But sometimes in the middle of the night, well, there’s too much time to think. Some nights are tough.”

“That’s true for everyone,” Tim assured him. “Our fears are always the worst in the darkness of night. But you can’t let this paralyze you, John. God still has more work for you.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him,” Michelle said. “But sometimes he has a hard time hearing it from me.”

“That’s not so unusual.” Sharon smiled at her husband. “Sometimes we wives are the last ones our husbands listen to. Sometimes all we can do is keep loving them and keep walking by faith.”

“Maybe, but it wasn’t always like that with Johnny and me.” Michelle looked longingly at Johnny. “You
used
to listen to me,” she reminded him. “We used to be a team. Now it feels like you’re shutting me out.”

“That’s because you don’t live inside my head, Michelle.” He tightened his grip on his coffee mug. He wanted to hold it together, and at the same time he wanted to be honest and transparent. “I know firsthand what happens to people in the music world,” he told her. “I know what’s out there, what Grace could get into. Maybe she already has. . . . I don’t know. And sometimes I feel so . . . well, helpless.” He looked down at his lap now. “No man likes to feel helpless.”

“Look, John,” Tim spoke with authority. “God may not be using you in Grace’s life right now. In fact, he may never use you in her life again. But that’s not always for us to understand. Our job is to be faithful to God. And at some point, when our kids grow up, we have to step back and just trust Him with our babies.”

Johnny looked up at him, trying to force a smile. “Yeah, I get that.” Did he? Did he really? Or was he just trying to sweep this all under the rug? “And I’ll try to keep that in mind in the middle of the night.”

“Me too,” Michelle said quietly. “The truth is, I haven’t been doing too well with trusting God when it comes to my daughter. But instead of thinking about how much I miss her, I will try to trust that God is watching out for her.”

“You won’t be sorry,” Sharon assured her. “We can never trust God too much.”

Tim nodded. “That’s right. You will never go wrong trusting God. Never.”

They visited awhile longer, and Johnny tried to convince himself that he was taking their advice to heart. He tried to believe that God would watch out for his child. He wanted to believe it. But the underlying feeling—the fear he could not shake—was that Grace was going to get hurt.
Badly hurt
. And if there was anything he could do to stop it, to prevent it, nothing and no one would be able keep him from running to her aid.

Chapter 17

A
s she sat at her small dining table, Grace was determined. She was going to write a song if it killed her. But the harder she tried, the more it all seemed to elude her. Like a slippery bar of soap in a steamy shower, she tried to grab onto it, but the words and the lyrics and the notes just kept sliding away. Then just when she thought she had it in her grasp, she squeezed too tightly, and off it went flying.

She crumpled the page she’d just been working on and threw it to the pile growing on the kitchen floor.
Garbage
. It was just plain garbage. And to think anyone would want to listen to
that
, let alone pay money or even sample a free download, well, it was just plain ridiculous. “It’s useless,” she muttered as she leaned her tired head onto the table. “Hopeless.” Why was she even trying?

Grace knew the truth, and it did not feel good. The truth was Gracie Trey was no better than Johnny Trey. In fact, she was not even as good. Sure, her dad might’ve been a one-hit wonder, but at least he’d written that one hit. All she’d done was rerecord it. She couldn’t write a hit if her life depended on it. Gracie Trey was a complete fraud.

She stood up and started pacing. What was she going to do? What
could
she do? Finally, knowing that she had no answers, she simply stood and stared at the vase of red roses Jay had sent her. So elegant and sophisticated and completely out of place in her cheap little apartment. A cheap little apartment that she would not be able to afford once Sapphire Music discovered that she was a phony and incapable of producing a second song. She took a rose out of the vase and studied it. So perfect, so exquisite, so beautiful. American Beauties, Jay had told her. “For an American beauty.” She smiled sadly as she slipped the rose back in with the others.

Now her eyes spied the shiny lingerie box sitting on one of the dining room chairs, right where she’d stashed it until she could decide what to do with it. For some reason it occurred to her that the risqué lingerie was almost exactly the same color as the roses. Curious to see, she opened the box and removed it, holding it next to the roses. Perfect match. Almost as if it was meant to be . . . as if she and Jay were meant for each other. But were they really? And was Kendra right about guys? Was this what they really liked? What they expected? Was this what Jay had been hoping for? And if so, was Grace even ready for it?

As she carried the skanky lingerie back into the living room, thinking she’d put it back in the box and forget about it, her mind was still on Jay. What was he doing right now? And why hadn’t he called her since their last date?

Well, of course, she knew the answer. She’d gotten so wasted that she’d ruined everything. But wasn’t that partly his fault? Even so, she felt badly. She couldn’t even remember what she’d said when she’d asked him to take her home. However, she did remember the disappointment in his eyes. Jay Grayson was probably not used to rejection. Perhaps it was time for her to call him and straighten this out.