Page 7 of Resisting the Fall

With a stiff nod, I slid back into the car, started it, and quickly drove off so I wouldn’t have to watch him walk away. Again.

I yanked at my collar, feeling like my tie was choking me. “Why do we have to come?”

Mom pinned me with a look, grabbing Luke out of his car seat. “Because we were invited. And because the Prices don’t have family here.”

“How’s that our fault?” Tate asked, clearly as thrilled about wearing his Sunday best on a Thursday afternoon as I was. Jaxon, my brother four years younger than I was, didn’t look happy either.

“I’ll not have another word from the two of you.” Her gaze shifted to Jaxon, Luke still in her arms. “Or you. Now, come on. We don’t want to be late.”

We followed Mom across the Prices’ dead grass to the front porch.

Maven threw open the door before we even made it to the house. She beamed at us with those giant teeth of hers. “Hello.”

“Don’t you look pretty,” Mom said.

Maven held out the sides of her yellow dress and twirled.

My eye roll earned me an elbow from Mom.

“It’s such a lovely dress.” Mom placed Luke on the ground when he started squirming. “And we are so excited to hear you play the violin. My boys have never been to a recital before.”

And we never wanted to go to another one again. Especially one of Maven’s.

Ms. Price poked her head out the door to invite us inside.

When the others had passed her, Maven smiled directly at me. “I like your tie, Ben. It matches my dress.”

I glanced down at the blue and yellow stripes, realizing she was right. “Thanks,” I grumbled, certain Mom had her ears trained on me and my manners. She always did when we got together with the Prices, and the last thing I wanted was another talk about my treatment of Maven. I’d had plenty over the past year.

“We should take a picture together,” Maven said.

I pretended I didn’t hear her and followed my mom inside. There was no way I was taking a picture with Maven.

Besides my family, Carson, and his mom, there were only four other people seated in the room, and not one of them was wearing clothes they’d wear to church.

When I took a seat next to Mom and my brothers on the sofa, Ms. Price moved to the front of the room. “Now that everyone’s here, we can go ahead and start. As most of you know, Maven has been playing the violin for the last several months, and when her teacher”—Ms. Price gestured to a gray-haired woman seated on a kitchen chair that had been pulled into the front room—“suggested a recital to help her get over her nerves of playing in front of an audience, yours were the names she gave me to invite. So thank you for being here. It means a lot to us.”

Mom placed her hand on my knee and smiled at me as though I’d had a choice in coming. Why she didn’t look at Tate the same way made no sense. He and Maven were the same age.

Maven stepped to the middle of the room, and instantly everyone started clapping. Before she’d even done anything.

She gave a little wave with the stringed stick in her hand, then lifted the violin beneath her chin like she was some sort of professional. With a breath I could hear from where I was sitting, she put the stick to the strings. A terrible squeaking sound echoed through the room, and she cringed slightly, her panicked gaze falling on her teacher.

“You’ve got this,” the teacher mouthed.

Maven’s face turned a bright red, and I almost felt bad for her. She moved the stick along the strings again, causing a slightly less terrible sound. Then another. With a few more strokes of the stick, I recognized the song—"You Are My Sunshine.”

When she finished that one, she started another, then another. Each song sounded better than the last, but it didn’t mean I wanted to keep sitting here. Thankfully, after one more, Maven lowered her violin, and when we had all finished our mandatory clapping, she nodded at her mom.

Ms. Price stepped forward. “Thank you again for taking time out of your busy schedules to support Maven. With her determination, I don’t doubt this will be one of many recitals.”

Tate and I shared a glance. Hopefully, this was the only one we’d have to come to.

“We have refreshments in the kitchen,” Ms. Price continued, recapturing our attention. “So please, help yourselves.”

Maybe our coming today hadn’t been a complete waste.

My three brothers, Carson, and I all moved for the kitchen first, but Mom grabbed my arm before I’d made it very far. “Let’s go tell Maven what a great job she did.”