Grace Unplugged: A Novel by Melody Carlson

really “get into” this next song, she plugged it in. By the time Dad started the song and happened to glance her direction, it was too late. The look on his face was priceless.
    Really, Grace told herself, as she got into it, this song deserved this kind of attention. And she played and sang like she was rocking it in front of fans. And it seemed like most of the congregation got into it—almost like Dad had invited them to. As she watched their faces, she could see that some were a little uneasy, but the younger ones seemed grateful. As if she’d woken them up and given them a reason to clap and sing and worship God with real enthusiasm. Wasn’t that how it was supposed to be done?
    She could see behind her Dad’s phony smile that he was smoldering as he played. And yet he kept his voice even after the song ended. He even made a joke about the apple not falling far from the tree—his daughter the rock star. The congregation laughed hard about that. Who would have the last laugh?
    But as they started the next song, he gave her the look. And since this song really was meant to be a slow and thoughtful song, she toned it down. But she didn’t do it for Dad. She did it for the song and for the congregation. However, each time they did a lively song, Grace was back on guitar, singing and playing with abandon.
    By the time the service ended, Grace wasn’t sure what was going on with Dad. In a way he seemed almost resolved. Like he was maybe giving in to her music and her style. Like maybe he was finally ready to give her a little space to breathe. And as they visited with members of the congregation—and she enjoyed the compliments they were giving her and Dad just smiled and laughed and joked—she started to feel truly hopeful. Dad was really coming around.
    Even Pastor Tim caught her as she was going out. “That was surprisingly refreshing,” he said. Those were his exact words.
    “Thanks, it was all my dad’s idea.”
    As they walked out to the car, waving and greeting friends, Grace thought maybe they’d reached some new milestone in their relationship. Dad was finally cutting the puppet strings, finally letting her grow up and spread her wings musically.
    Grace let out a little sigh of relief as Dad calmly started the engine. Mom was making the usual small talk about church and friends and what they would have for lunch today and then—just as the SUV was out on the street and a safe distance away from the church, Dad exploded. “What on earth do you think you were doing in there, Grace Rose Trey?”
    “Singing?”
    “Don’t get smart with me, young lady.”
    “Dad, I was just—”
    “You know you stepped over the line. Way over the line. And you don’t even care, do you?”
    “Johnny.” Mom put her hand on his arm. “Let’s keep this calm.”
    He barely nodded. “Yeah. Right. Calm.” He took in a deep breath. “So, tell me, what were you doing in there, Grace?”
    “I was just trying to—”
    “ Take over. That’s what you wanted to do.” He hit his palm against the steering wheel. So much for calm. “You wanted to take over and turn our worship service into the Grace Trey Concert. You think the congregation is there to see you—Grace Trey, the big rock star. You think you’re the next Renae Taylor. Don’t pretend I’m wrong, Grace. I could see it in your eyes.”
    “I don’t think you can see anything, Dad. Even when it’s right in your face.”
    “Grace!” Mom’s voice had the edge of warning in it.
    “I’m sorry, Mom,” she said angrily. “But it’s true. Dad is totally clueless when it comes to me and my music.”
    “ Your music?” He slowly shook his head. “When we lead worship, it’s God’s music, Grace. Don’t you get that?”
    “I get that it’s your music, Dad. And anything I want to do differently is wrong. I get it. All right? ”
    “Grace, that’s not the point, and you know it!
    “It was so much better than the boring thing we rehearsed and