Grace Unplugged: A Novel (5 page)

Relieved that it was all over, Grace kept a pleasant expression pasted on her face as she gathered her music and notebook and Bible, shoving them into her oversized bag and preparing to make a quick exit. Dad gave her a subtle nod—as if to say she’d done okay—and then he turned to pack up his guitar. She was just leaving the stage when she heard someone calling out, “Johnny Trey!”

She looked over to see the
GQ
stranger approaching the stage, waving at her dad like he knew him.

“Mossy?”
Her dad sounded genuinely shocked.

“In the flesh, amigo.” The man came up to the stage with a look of quiet self-assurance and confidence—like he really knew who he was and could fit in anywhere, even a small church in Alabama.

“Come here, man!” Dad hopped off the stage and met the stranger with a big hug. “Dude, what in the world?”

“Let me look at you.” Mr.
GQ
gave Dad a quick head-to-toe then shook his head. “Man, you’re old.”

Now Mom was coming over to check the situation out. She looked as curious as Grace felt.
“Mossy?”
Mom said with uncertainty as she got closer.

“There she is,” the man said warmly to her. “Shelly, baby.” Now he hugged Mom too. Grace, remaining in the shadows, continued watching, trying to figure out who this was and what was going down.

“You haven’t aged a day, sweet thing,” Mr.
GQ
was telling her mom.

“I’ll take your word for it,” she said happily.

“What are you
possibly
doing here, man?” Dad asked him.

Now Mr.
GQ
nodded to where Grace was standing nearby eavesdropping. “Who’s this young talent?” he asked her dad.

“That’s Grace,” Dad told him.

Mr.
GQ
looked stunned.
“What?”

“Our daughter,” Mom explained. “Come here, Grace. Meet an old friend.”

“This beautiful lady is baby Grace?” He extended his hand for a shake then pulled Grace into a warm hug. “Last time I saw you, you were in diapers.”

“Grace,” Dad said to her, “this is Frank Mostin. He was my manager.” He chuckled. “He discovered your old man back in the day.”

“Hi.” Grace smiled shyly at him.

“You are absolutely gorgeous.” Now Mossy gave her the same head-to-toe he’d given Dad, only this time he looked pleased. “And you were brilliant up there.” He nodded to the stage. “A real natural.”

With a grimace Grace shrugged then thanked him. Did this guy really think
that
was good? Compared to how she wished she could play, today’s worship service was nothing. Then, realizing this dude was really studying her, she started to feel uncomfortable.

“Alright,” Dad said. “You completely got me. What brings you out this way, man?”

“Well, I’m just so happy to see you both. I’ve missed you, and I mean that.” He patted Dad on the back. “And I have some exciting news. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Mom invited Mossy to come to their house, and Dad gave him directions. Before long they were driving home, and today the talk in the front seat was not the usual rehash of what happened in church. Today the talk was all around Mossy. Speculating why he was here, what kind of news he had, and reminiscing over back when Dad and Mossy were working together. It was impossible to miss the excitement in Dad’s voice as he talked about the “good old days.”

Mom recruited Grace to help her get lunch ready, and soon they were all gathered at the eating nook together, where the conversation, like in the car, seemed stuck in a time gone by. Even so, Grace listened with interest. It was actually amusing to hear Mossy talking about Dad in his younger days, making him seem almost human. Although her dad shut Mossy down on a couple of wild-sounding tales. Probably because his daughter was listening.

Dad and Mossy continued chattering happily as Grace and Mom cleared the table. “I can finish this up,” Mom told her. “I’m sure you have other things you’d rather be doing, sweetie.”

Grace actually wanted to stick around and continue listening in on what seemed a fairly intriguing conversation. Then spotting Mom’s laptop on the kitchen desk, Grace thought of a good excuse. “Hey, did you look up the Monroe website yet?” she asked, nodding to the computer.

Mom smiled. “As a matter of fact, I did.” She hurried over and opened the lid. “I happen to have it right here. Would you like to take a peek?”

“Sure.” Grace sat down at the breakfast bar with the laptop, pretending to peruse the site, although she was actually listening in to conversation going on in the nearby nook.

“Yeah,” Dad was saying. “We would travel to churches all over. And I’d share my story and—”

“Wait,” Mossy stopped him. “You mean you made a living going to churches and telling your story?”

“Did it for years.” Dad told him. “Grace and I would play. I’d speak. Just moved here a couple of years ago.”

“So what you did today, that’s your job now?”

“Yeah. Music pastor. We’re also prepping for an album. I’ve written some songs, so . . . we’ll see.”

“Religious songs?” Mossy sounded doubtful.

“Worship songs, yeah. . . . But hey, man, you didn’t come all this way to hear my story.”

“No, it’s good to hear. Actually it plays into why I came. I mean the fact that you’re still playing and writing and everything. You remember Larry Reynolds?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t know if you heard, but a few months ago he was named president of Sapphire Music.”

Grace looked up from the screen with interest. Sapphire was Renae’s label.

“Nice.” Dad nodded.

“Yeah. So I pay my old friend a visit, congratulate him, and everything. And you know the first thing he says? He starts talking to me about
American Idol,
Sweden.”

Grace could see that Dad wasn’t following this—what happens when you live under a stone.

“You don’t know?” Mossy looked surprised.

Dad just shrugged.

“You are out of it.” Mossy laughed. “Some Swedish kid sang ‘Misunderstood’ on
Idol
and won the whole thing. After that, the video went viral.”

“What video?” Dad frowned.

“Yours! The live one, from the Greek. Couple hundred thousand hits.”

“Wow!” Dad looked impressed.

“Yeah, I guess everything comes back in style, doesn’t it? Anyway, Larry and I go out for drinks. Before you know it, he gives me an office in the Sapphire building.”

“That’s great, man.” Dad slapped Mossy on the back. “Congrats.”

“Yeah, it’s great when friends help friends. But that’s not the best part. You ready?” Mossy’s eyes were glinting with excitement. “He and I worked it out. Sapphire Music wants to offer you a deal.”

Grace was so stunned she almost fell off the stool. Dad was being offered a recording contract with Sapphire Music? Was this for real?

“Just a one-off for now, but I got him to commit, in advance, to a full domestic tour to support the new album! As far as the songs, it’s hands-off. Write whatever you want. Not religious stuff, of course, but he said as long as you sing ‘Misunderstood’ on tour, the rest is your call.”

“Wow. That’s . . .” Dad rubbed his chin. “That’s really humbling.”

“It’s huge!” Mossy assured him. “And I don’t need to tell you these deals don’t come easily. Johnny, we’re back in the game!”

“Sounds like an incredible opportunity—”

“Thank you! I worked hard for it.”

“I appreciate that, man, I really do.” Dad sighed. “But I’m gonna pass, Moss.”

“What?” Mossy’s expression was a mix of hurt and disbelief.

“Hey man, I’m sorry you made the long trip and everything. I mean, it’s great to see you, but it’s not my thing anymore, you know?”

“Not your thing?” Mossy frowned. “Johnny, you got your life back in order. You’re looking good. There’s no passing on this!”

“I get it. I do. Just . . . it’s not me anymore. I like what I’m doing now.”

The room was quiet now, and Grace was controlling herself from jumping up and down and demanding to know why Dad wanted to take a pass on an offer like this. What was wrong with the man?

“So . . . uh,” Mossy nodded over to where Mom was still puttering in the kitchen and Grace was supposedly studying the Monroe website.

“It’s alright,” Dad assured him. “Say whatever you want.”

There was another long pause. Then Mossy started talking again, more quietly this time. “Remember when you were playing bars at airports or any coffeehouse with an open mic? Who gave you your shot?”

“Moss, we had a great run—”

“Or when you were passed out drunk or the time you woke up behind bars. Who was there for you?”

Grace saw her dad glancing her direction, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted her to hear this. But she just pretended to be absorbed by the boring college site.

“You did a ton for me, Moss. That’s why I gave you my song. I want to help you out, man—”

“Then do this!”

Grace’s head popped up, and she watched openly as her dad slowly shook his head. “No.”

“Johnny . . .”

“Come on, Moss, if ‘Misunderstood’ is hot again, go ahead and do a remake. You own it.”

“Get that kid from
Idol
—”

“Johnny, he wants you!”

“Look, tell Larry thanks, but—”

“Listen, I know this is all very sudden. Take some time. You and Shelly think it over.”

Dad just shook his head again. “I’m sorry, Moss. My mind is made up.”

Mossy stood now. Grace could tell he was not the least bit pleased with her dad’s answer, but he smiled just the same. And thanking them for lunch, he went on his way.

The room grew quiet as Mom poured soap in the dishwasher, shut the door, and turned it on. Grace, tired of feigning interest in a college she never wanted to attend, quietly closed the laptop. And without saying a word to either of her parents, she headed off to her room.

She immediately went for her headphones and her computer, and before long, she was listening to her dad’s one hit song—“Misunderstood.” As she listened, she Googled Frank Mostin Management, pulling up Mossy’s website. She clicked on his bio, browsing through old photos until she found one of Mossy and her dad. Together they were grinning and holding up a gold record. The caption read:
Frank Mostin with Johnny Trey celebrating their top-ten hit, “Misunderstood.”

Before the song ended, she pulled off her headphones and tossed them onto her bed. How could her dad be so stupid? To throw away an opportunity like that? What was wrong with the man? Or maybe he was just too good. What was that old saying—too heavenly minded to be any earthly good? Yeah, that just about described her dad. The one-hit wonder who was so heavenly minded, so intent on playing only worship songs, that he was practically useless.

Chapter 5

J
ohnny wished he could put the whole thing behind him, but as the evening wore on, he continued to feel slightly haunted by Moss’s unexpected visit. As if a ghost from his past had come knocking. Although he’d been careful not to mention anything too specific about Mossy to Grace, because he could tell her antennas were up and he suspected that she didn’t approve of his decision to send his old buddy packing, he had capitalized on what he hoped was a teachable moment. Because if Grace couldn’t glean some things from her old man’s experiences, who could? Of course, in typical Grace style, she listened with an expression of skepticism on her face. What was it with eighteen-year-olds these days?

After Grace turned in for the night, probably to escape further lectures, he sat down on the couch and thought about the whole thing with Mossy. He knew he’d been right to do what he’d done, but he did wonder if he might have handled it differently. After all, Moss was an old friend, and Johnny cared about where Mossy might be spending eternity. Perhaps he’d missed an opportunity. And yet, at the same time, the memories of how his own life had been so lost and adrift were unsettling.

It was getting close to eleven when Michelle came in to inquire how Johnny was faring. “You alright?” she asked with concerned eyes. “You seem awfully quiet.”

He shrugged. “Just thinking.”

“What are you thinking about?” She sat next to him on the couch, pulling her knees up as she snuggled close.