Grace Unplugged: A Novel (4 page)

Grace parked the car on the perimeter of the parking lot, but instead of getting out and going inside, she just sat there thinking. Why was she so angry at her dad? She knew he loved her and, like Rachel kept saying, he really was a good dad. But maybe that was the problem. He was too good of a dad. How often had she heard him joking with his friends, saying things like, “Sure, Grace can date . . . when she’s thirty.” And, yeah, everyone always laughed, and no one really took him seriously. But sometimes she wondered. Sometimes she felt like if Johnny Trey could have his way, Grace would be a puppet and he would be pulling the strings.

As she got out of the car, she frowned at her innocent-looking guitar and Bible still laying in the backseat. Then she closed the door and locked the car, leaving her guilt alongside the props she had used to slip under Dad’s radar tonight. And snuffing out her conscience with angry indignation, she headed toward the entrance of the movie theater, taking her place in line with other young people as she waited to purchase a ticket to a film she knew her parents would never approve of her seeing.

Several acquaintances acknowledged her, but they weren’t what she considered close friends. Certainly not anyone from her church, so the chances of them reporting back to her parents was minimal. Not that she particularly cared, or so she told herself as she bought popcorn and soda.

She found a seat down near the front and, feeling a little awkward about being alone, she sat down and began munching on her popcorn. Before long the movie trailers started to play, and all thoughts of parents and youth group and college and life in general were erased by the noise and the music and the action on the big screen in front of her.

When the movie ended, Grace remained in her seat as the credits rolled. It wasn’t that she cared who’d been a grip or an assistant-assistant to an assistant producer, but the music kept her there. As she tapped her toes to the beat of a mind-numbing rocker song, she wondered if she would ever get the chance to play like that.

Finally the song and the credits ended and, feeling slightly self-conscious as the house lights came on, she exited the nearly empty theater. Something about this whole scene—church girl sneaking out to watch a questionable flick—seemed sad and pathetic as she walked back to the car. But instead of dwelling on this, she tuned the radio to a rock station and sang loudly along as she took the long way home, arriving at the usual time for a youth group night. Judging by the empty driveway, the Bryants had gone home.

When she reached the door, she realized she’d left her guitar in the car, and not wanting it to sit out in the damp night air, she hurried back to retrieve it. When she came into the house, her mom was straightening the living room.

“Hey,” she smiled at Grace. “How was youth group?”

“Fine.” Grace noticed her dad over in his favorite chair, seemingly absorbed by something on his laptop. Even so, she suspected he was listening. “It was good,” she added for convincing sake as she dropped the car keys in the usual bowl by the front door.

“Did you eat anything?” Mom asked just like she always did after youth group.

“Yeah.” Grace was headed for her bedroom now, but apparently Mom was in a chatty mood because she seemed intent on keeping their conversation going.

“I saw Rachel’s mom at the gym today,” she said lightly. “She was telling me how Rachel is starting at Monroe this fall
too
.”

Grace tightened her grip on the handle of her guitar case as the word
too
grated over her, but she was determined not to show her aggravation.

“Anyway, it sounds like Rachel got some kind of scholarship?”

Grace simply nodded, controlling herself from saying something snarky like, “Yeah, I know. Rachel is perfect. Unlike your loser daughter.”

“Rachel’s mom said the classes are all listed on their website. That’s nice and handy, isn’t it?”

Grace nodded again. “Uh-huh.” She glanced over at Dad again, but he still seemed intent on his computer, which was odd because he usually had little tolerance for people who allowed their electronic devices to replace good manners. But apparently the rules were different for him.

“So, whenever you want, Grace, you could just go online and start, you know, selecting classes for fall.”

“Cool.” Grace forced a smile. “I’m gonna go crash now.”

“Good-night, sweetie.” Her mom looked over at Dad like she’d noticed his lack of social etiquette as well.

“Good-night,” Grace said as she headed out.

“You fill the car up?” her dad asked without even looking up from his laptop.

Grace froze in place. Oh, man, how could she have forgotten that? Especially when she’d been trying to be so careful tonight. She watched as her dad reached for his glass of water, taking a long,slow sip with his eyes locked on her, looking at her like he knew. But how could he know? Was her face that easy to read?

“Dad, as soon as I got in the car, Paige called,” she began quickly. “And she was crying hysterically and she just really needed to talk. And, well, I guess I completely forgot. I’ll go do it now. Okay?”

“Nope.” He shook his head in a dismal way as he slowly stood, then walked resolutely to the door.

“I’m sorry, but—”

“Never mind.”
He snatched the keys out of the bowl and stormed out the door, closing it a bit too firmly behind him.

“See what I’m talking about?” she said to Mom.

“Grace.” Mom looked intently at her. “This is on you. You said you’d do it, but you broke your word. Again.”

Grace just shook her head. It figured that Mom would side with him.

“Look, maybe your father doesn’t always show it the way you want, but he loves you so much. Why can’t you see that?”

Grace took in a deep breath, considering her response. And then she simply shrugged, turning to go to her room. Really, what was the point of arguing with either of them? They saw things the way they saw them. She was never going to change that.

She quietly closed the door to her room and, for the first time ever, longed for a lock on her door. Not that she wanted to do anything forbidden behind closed doors but mostly to create a barrier between herself and them. She wanted her space!

Fortunately her headphones provided her with a sense of space, even if it was more of an illusion than reality. Just the same, she slipped them into place and opened up her laptop, going directly to the Sapphire Music website. Sapphire was Renae Taylor’s label and one of the hottest in the industry. Clicking onto one of Renae’s most popular videos, Grace decided to lose herself in the music for awhile. She was just getting into it when she heard someone knocking on her door. Suppressing the urge to yell, “Leave me alone,” she tugged off the headphones and said, “Come in,” with all the enthusiasm she felt—none.

As Dad entered the room, she closed out Sapphire’s website and shut her computer, staring blankly up at him. She knew the aggravation written all over his face was there because of her. She was such a disappointment to him—and all because she’d forgotten to fill up the tank. Seriously, was it that big of a deal?

He held her Bible out to her. “You left this in the car.”

“Oh.” She reached for it, setting it on the desk next to her. “Thanks.”

Dad stepped back to the door but then stopped. With a perplexed expression he rubbed his hand through his hair. He only did this when something was really frustrating him. Something like her.

“You have something you want to tell me?” he asked quietly.

“What?” She frowned. “No.”

He let out a long, irritated sigh. “Nothing? Nothing at all?”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t put gas in the car. I’m the worst person ever.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” he said sharply.

“Then what?” With defiance in her eyes, she met his stare head on. “Unbelievable! I don’t fill the car up, and you come in here and look at me like I’m a serial killer.”

Now Dad reached into his shirt pocket and slowly extracted a small slip of paper and set it on her Bible.
Her movie ticket.
She took in a sharp breath, trying to think of some way out of this, but she knew it was futile. He knew. “How was the movie?” he asked in a flat tone. She couldn’t even look at him.

“This pattern, Grace.
These lies!”

She looked up now, locking eyes with him again, bracing herself for what she knew was coming.

“And your attitude!” He grimly shook his head. “You
know
it’s a sin to lie. What on earth are you thinking?”

She just continued staring at him. If he thought he was a perfect picture of Christ, he really needed to take another look.

“Are you?” he demanded.

“Am I what?”

“Thinking!”
His features twisted in anger. “Are you even thinking, Grace? Because none of this makes any sense to me. You
never
used to be this way.”

She looked back down at her Bible and the theater ticket. As much as she knew what she’d done was wrong, what about how he was acting right now? Was it right to stand there and make your daughter feel like dirt? She could feel tears building in her eyes, but she was determined not to cry. No, she was going to take this like an adult. Because, whether Dad believed it or not, she was an adult. And maybe if he would quit treating her like a child, she would have a chance to act like one.

“Grace, I know you’ve always wanted your life to be about God. But lately you’re just all about
you
.”

She took in a deep breath. Did he really believe that?

“I’ve always told you we’d be a team, but if this doesn’t stop, I don’t see how you can stay in the worship band . . . or be part of the album.”

She slowly exhaled, calculating his words, his intent. Now she forced what she hoped was an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

He pursed his lips and shook his head. “It’s late. We have church in the morning. Since I haven’t replaced you on the worship team yet, I’ll expect you to do your part.
On piano.
” He pointed his finger at her. “Don’t let me down.”

He shook his head again as he reached for the door. His disappointment in her was so intense, so palpable, she could still feel it in the air after he left. And maybe she did deserve his scorn and criticism. Maybe she was a disappointment to God as well. However, as she got ready for bed, she was determined to do better tomorrow. Somehow she was going to change Dad’s perception of her. Somehow she was going to make him proud of her.

Chapter 4

R
esolved to make her father happy today, Grace took her place on the stage and put her best effort into the first worship song. She liked “Desert Song” well enough, but she knew her heart was not fully engaged. Still she was determined not to disappoint.

As she played along with the other worship leaders, singing the familiar song with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, she observed a well-dressed man slipping into the back of the church—at least ten minutes late. As he made his way up the aisle, taking a seat about midway up, she could see that he appeared to be a little older than her dad and, as far as she could tell, a newcomer to the church. But it was his slick
GQ
appearance that captured her attention. Her guess was that he wasn’t from Homewood.

As the song ended, she focused her attention back on Dad, waiting for him to cue her to begin the next song. She continued to put her energy into playing and singing the worship songs—playing the part of the worship leader’s well-mannered daughter. She would make him happy, make him proud. She would give her best efforts, and maybe he would start to trust her again.

After the worship ended, Pastor Bryant came up and took over the podium, and Grace went to sit where she usually sat, on the left-hand side of the front row. And there she pretended to be taking notes, but she was actually writing down some song lyrics that had just hit her. Then aware that her dad was probably watching, she tried to remember to open her Bible at the appropriate times. Before long the sermon ended, and it was time for the worship team to wrap things up.

Once again she took her place at the piano and did her best to make Dad happy. Sure, it wasn’t how she would be running the show if she were in charge. But she was not in charge. Not of the worship service—and not even of her own life.