Grace Unplugged: A Novel by Melody Carlson Read Free Book Online

was Monday. And her parents had their small group tonight, which meant she would have the house to herself, which meant she could make as much noise—rather music—as she pleased. The plan was clicking into place.
    Once she got home, she spent some time in her room, getting everything lined up and worked out. She would have between two and three hours tonight—to get it just right. After she felt she’d gotten her ducks lined up—as well as she knew how—she went down to help Mom with dinner. Acting like the perfect daughter, she even chatted with Mom about the classes she might end up taking at Monroe—as if she really planned on going. By the time Dad came home, they appeared to be the perfect little Christian family, all sitting down to a friendly meal together. Little did her parents know, she was just counting the minutes until she would have the house to herself.
    “I’ll clean up the kitchen,” she told Mom when they were finished eating. “That’ll give you more time to spruce up for your group thing.”
    Mom blinked in surprised. “Well, thanks. I’m happy to take you up on that offer.”
    Dad looked surprised too, but he also looked slightly dubious. “What’s up with the good-daughter routine? You getting ready to hit me up with a request for money?”
    She gave him a look. “So I try to act in a more mature fashion, and you make fun of me?”
    He held up his hands. “No, no, I’m not making fun.” He smiled. “In fact, I like this.” And before she could show him how exasperating he was, he hurried away. With her parents out of the kitchen, she haphazardly loaded the dishwasher, not even bothering to rinse the dishes like they usually did. Instead, she piled them in, added a generous measure of dishwasher soap, then turned it onto the pots and pans cycle and proceeded to wipe down the countertops and table. She was just finishing up when she heard them calling good-bye, and when she peered out the window, they were getting into the car and pulling out. Just like clockwork.
    She threw the dishcloth into the sink, then raced up to her room where her laptop was already propped up, just the right height on a stack of books on her desk. It was all set and ready to record. She took a moment to fluff her hair and apply some fresh lip gloss. Then, satisfied that she looked good, she grabbed her guitar.
    Her heart was pounding with excitement as she strapped on her guitar—almost as if she were getting ready to stand before a packed coliseum. But first she wanted to do a little warm-up. She played some chords and ran through some vocals. Finally, confident that she was ready for this, she hit “record” on her laptop. Then, positioning herself on the hot pink Post-it note she’d stuck to her rug earlier, she took in a deep breath and began to belt out a guitar-and-vocal solo she felt certain was about to launch her career in music.
    She did several takes before she was satisfied she had a really good one. Even then she watched it four times before she decided that it was perfect—or as near perfect as she could get in her small, impromptu recording studio. And then she pulled up the carefully worded e-mail she’d written and saved as a draft this afternoon, and she attached the song to it and hit “send.”
    She looked over at the alarm clock by her bed, relieved to see it was only 8:45. She had time to spare. And now she realized, she would be playing the waiting game. How long would it take?

    On Tuesday morning Frank Mostin didn’t feel the least bit eager to go back to his office. Because Monday had been a travel day, he had scheduled his meeting with Sapphire for Tuesday afternoon. Of course, at the time he’d imagined himself showing up the hero—he would tell the story, embellishing as needed, of how he’d won back Johnny Trey to the music business. It had seemed such a solid plan last week—a real slam dunk—that he’d pushed to have their meeting as soon as possible. And Larry