Paula turned her head away, biting a fingernail. Just getting them in the same place wouldn’t solve things. I’d known that. The thing that would change the situation was Jill’s singing. I moved next to her as she looked between Paula and Fago with worry, and then spoke quietly to her.
“Are you okay?”
I’d been focused on Paula, but Jill was clearly nervous as well. Her lips were pale and her body was trembling slightly.
“I-I’m okay,” she answered. “Sorry, um, so...”
“You’re right. I want you to sing here.”
I’d been pretty sure that she’d cottoned on when we gave her the invitation, and given her current nervousness, it certainly seemed like she had. She screwed her eyes shut and nodded in silent agreement. All the same, I was worried about her, enough that I wanted to call the whole thing off. That’s how nervous she seemed.
“I...I asked for this, and thanks to you, Paula and her mother are finally in the same place... So...I’ll do what I can.”
Along with the determination that’d crept into her voice, her expression suddenly firmed with resolve. I stopped worrying; it would have only disrespected her resolution. If she’d decided she’d do it, then I’d believe in her.
“But, um,” she murmured, moving closer, “what feelings should I use?”
That was indeed the question.
“A song of hope,” I said softly. “A song of keeping others in your heart, of believing in tomorrow and trusting that things will be okay. Just a slight push on the back.”
“Hope” was probably too abstract of a direction to give her, but it fit. The feelings, the thoughts...everything we really needed for this was contained in those four letters. Jill simply nodded and put a hand to her chest, closing her eyes, as if to make sure her emotions were just right.
Then the air seemed to change. My skin prickled and went numb. A sense of anticipation filled the whole courtyard. I felt like I should greet everyone and open the festivities. Maybe light the fire and stand with it behind me to introduce Jill and get everyone ready to listen. I’d thought of all sorts of ideas earlier, but it was all for nothing in the end. The moment she sang her first note, we were all taken in.
It was a quiet song, with no accompaniment. No spotlight shone on her, and no audience-filled stands rose up around her. This wasn’t the theater, and she wasn’t on stage. It wasn’t the performance she’d dreamed of—but it was one meant for someone important to her, and for that woman’s mother, and she sang to us of her own will. Her voice was kind and warm, and it whispered directly to our hearts. It started echoing louder, her feelings bearing down against our chests. Her heart-wrenching soprano held within it all her adoration and well-wishes for the person most important to her in the world. Hers was a song of hope—of lifting your head to look for tomorrow.
I slowly moved away, crossing the courtyard while everyone was listening to Jill sing. I came up next to Nito and whispered into her ear. She nodded vigorously and ran over to Paula, taking her hand. Meanwhile, I picked my moment and moved over to Fago. Monty acknowledged me with a look and then seemed to understand what was going on and tactfully moved away. I couldn’t help but marvel at his intuition.
“It’s a good song, right?”
“Yes...it is,” Fago answered, looking at me in surprise; apparently, she’d been listening so raptly that she hadn’t noticed me come over.
The sun had sunk behind the mountains, and it was getting darker out. The sky was still lit, though, tinted a light blue by the moon that hung above us, alone in the sky but shining as brightly as any star. Looking out over that scenery, with Jill’s singing echoing around us, it felt like our hearts were just that little bit more open.
“Fago, I want to ask you again.” She was looking at Jill, listening to that song of hope, but also to me, just a little. “This doesn’t go further... It’s just between us. Do you really not want to see Paula? You don’t want to talk to her, even though you’re right here in the same place?”
It was an obvious question, you might say. It didn’t need asking, perhaps. But sometimes, you had to put those obvious questions into words. Just saying it out loud might be enough to save someone.
Fago let out a breath, before replying quietly.
“Of course I do. That’s my child. Man or woman changes nothing. I just realized it far too late.”
I tapped her on the shoulder, then pointed behind us. She turned around, her eyes went wide, and then she looked back at me. I heard her tut, but I’d happily take that hit.
“You came,” I said.
Paula was standing there, having been quietly pulled over by Nito. Fago looked up at Paula, simultaneously frowning and letting out a rueful laugh.
“You look awful. Tears everywhere.”
Paula’s purple eyeshadow was running in tracks down her face, carried by her tears. She sobbed, stepping forward.
“Mama... I’m so sorry. I couldn’t be the son you wanted. I turned out like this instead... I always wanted to say sorry.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Fago said, embracing her daughter’s large frame and gently patting her on the back as if soothing a child.
“You’re no son of mine,” she added. “You’re my wonderful daughter.”
Paula’s sobs intensified as she fell to her knees, clinging to Fago. I tugged at Nito’s hand, leading her away. They’d be all right on their own now, and we’d just be in the way. Nito was sniffling, and I couldn’t say that I wasn’t as well.
Jill’s song ended and Nito broke into applause, eyes still teary. One by one, the rest of us joined in, and while we might not have held a candle to a full auditorium, Jill’s face reddened as she lowered her head in several bows, equal parts shy and happy.