Chapter 7 - Don't Touch Her Microphone
I didn't let go of the microphone even when the screen went black again. My hand was shaking so bad I could hear it in the speaker, that little scratch sound every time I breathed. The platform was only two steps high but it felt higher with everybody looking up at me.
Vanessa was already on the first step.
Up close her dress didn't look as perfect. I could see the lace on her sleeves pulled tight over her arms and the way her chest moved fast when she breathed. Her eyes weren't on the screen anymore. They were on my hands. One hand on the microphone, the other holding Mom's phone in my skirt pocket. I kept my fingers curled around it.
"Give that to me," she said. It was low, not like before. She smiled but her teeth were together. She reached up with her right hand, palm open. "Lily, honey, give me the microphone and the phone before you ruin this."
I stepped back. My flats slipped a little on the platform. Behind the DJ booth the fairy lights buzzed and made my eyes water.
That was when Mom got there.
She didn't run. She came up the side of the platform and put herself between me and Vanessa. I felt her hands come down on my shoulders, warm and steady, and she pulled me back just enough that Vanessa's fingers couldn't reach.
I leaned into her dress. It smelled like the car and like flowers from the tables.
"Don't touch her," Mom said.
Her voice wasn't loud. It wasn't like Vanessa's. But it didn't shake. She kept both hands on my shoulders and I could feel her thumbs pressing through my yellow cardigan.
"Claire," Vanessa said, still smiling for the tables. "Get her down. This is my wedding."
"Don't touch her," Mom said again. "You don't get to grab at her."
Vanessa's hand stayed in the air for a second. Then she dropped it to her side and grabbed a piece of her skirt instead. Her updo had loosened and a piece of hair stuck to her neck. She looked past Mom at me.
"You don't understand what you're doing," she said to me. "That phone isn't yours to play."
I swallowed. The microphone felt heavy. "It's Mom's," I said. My voice came out small through the speaker and everyone heard it. "Mr. Graham needs to see this."
A chair scraped somewhere out in the tables. I heard a man cough. Nobody stood up, but nobody looked away either.
Then I heard his shoes on the dance floor.
Mr. Graham came from the front table and stopped at the bottom of the platform. He was taller up close, in a dark suit with his jacket buttoned. He didn't look at Vanessa first. He looked at me, then at Mom's hands on my shoulders.
"What is on that phone?" he asked.
Mom didn't move her hands. "The rest of it," she said. "Let her finish it."
Vanessa turned to him fast. "David, don't. She paused it herself. It's over. Tell the DJ to turn the music back on."
She reached again, this time not for the microphone but for my pocket. I saw her fingers move toward the little square shape under my denim skirt. I twisted sideways into Mom.
"Mom," I whispered.
"I've got you," Mom whispered back. She shifted so her hip blocked Vanessa's hand. "Stay behind me."
Mr. Graham held up his hand. Just one hand, flat in the air. His voice got deeper.
"Everybody stay back," he said. He looked at Vanessa, then at the DJ behind me. "Nobody touches that microphone. Nobody touches that girl. Let the clip finish."
The DJ froze with his hand over the laptop. Vanessa stopped with one foot on the second step. Her lace sleeve brushed the edge of the platform.
For a second nobody moved. The chandelier hummed over us. I could hear the ice melting in glasses out at the white tables and my own breathing in the microphone.
Vanessa stepped back down to the dance floor, but she didn't go far. She stood right at the steps with her arms crossed tight over her white dress, watching me. Watching the phone.
Mom squeezed my shoulders once. "You okay?" she asked softly, just for me.
I nodded. My ponytail bounced and tickled my neck. I lifted the microphone a little closer to my mouth so it wouldn't shake as much.
"Ready?" the DJ asked me quietly.
May you like
I looked at Mom. She nodded. I nodded back.
"Play it," I said.
