Lanterns and string lights provided illumination to the outdoor area, especially bright over the portion of patio now acting as a stage. My mother sat down on a folding chair with her guitar, Emily stepping to the forefront, all gazes fixed on her. The gold in her hair glinted under the glow, the skin of her shoulders smooth and tan. I was surprised the adults hadn’t noticed that her eyes looked slightly swollen from crying. Even so, she was prettier than any of the other girls from town. I wanted to stare, and so I did. Emily’s gaze met mine and I startled, the back of my neck growing warm. I made it a point to yawn. Emily’s eyes narrowed, but then, as my mother began to strum, Emily’s shoulders lowered, and she closed her eyes, her body swaying gently.

The first note broke the night hush and somehow melded with it too. Emily’s voice was high and sweet, but also held an undertone of smoke as though she’d inhaled the bonfire and it wove between the words. Everything inside me seemed to still—my thoughts, my breath, even the beat of my heart and the flow of my blood—taking up the slow melody of the song. Emily sang about rainbows and bluebirds, but it felt like more than that. A longing rose inside me, for what I had no words to describe. All I knew was that I was completely entranced. And that if she looked at me again, I wouldn’t be able to hide it.

The beauty of her voice was effortless, even if there was a sad quality to it. Maybe she was feeling the loss of that music camp that would be taken from her as she sang the melody. But rather than ruin the song, her sadness seemed to add something…an extra note…another chord. I didn’t understand it exactly, but I felt it, and I could tell the others watching felt it too, saw the way Emily’s mother brought her hand to her heart, and a farmhand named Arleen wiped her eye.

As the song came to an end, Emily dropped her head, bending in a bow, the final note somehow still suspended all around us, though it had already faded to silence. The small audience jumped to their feet, clapping exuberantly, whistles ringing out. Emily smiled, and my mother stood, taking her in a hug. “You’re a star, beautiful girl,” I barely heard her say from where I stood.

The applause died down, conversation picking up, a few people heading toward the standing ice buckets where drinks were chilling. I watched as Emily took a deep breath, walking toward her father.

I moved behind a row of hedges closer to where they stood.

“Dad… I have something to tell you,” I heard her say.

“What is it, honey?”

“Your Thunderbird…”