Page 26 of Rock the Chardonnay

Alex rolls his eyes. “Seriously, Dad. Let’s go. I don’t want to miss this.”

I think I have time to check my appearance in a mirror or with a selfie, but one glance at Alex tells me I don’t. His expression is all pre-teen exasperation. “Right. I’m on it.” It doesn’t matter what I look like anyway. Daughtry has a one time only policy, after all.

I hide all the bottles beneath the table and set a little placard out saying that I’ll be back in ten minutes.

“Let’s go.” We wind our way through the festival, which is thronged with people. Visitors shop, eat, or listen to the music from the big concert stage set up by the lake. Currently, there’s a folk trio singing. They’re pretty good, if a person doesn’t mind their music with a hefty dose of twang.

“She said to meet her by the backstage entrance.” Alex folds his hands together repeatedly. I haven’t seen him so nervous since his first day of kindergarten when Josie and I dropped him off at school. I loop an arm around his shoulders and squeeze.

“It’s okay. She’ll be there.” Hopefully.

The backstage entrance is little more than a rope fence off the side of the stage, guarded by a burly, overly tanned white man wearing an unironic crew cut and a black tee shirt with Security stamped on it.

“Hi.” I lift my hand. “This is Alex Foster. We’re here to see Daughtry Sutcliffe. She’s expecting us.”

The security officer harrumphs at the interruption. In his defense, we are distracting him from his Sudoku. He turns around to the performers and their entourages milling around the fenced area. “Daughtry?”

Her bright pink head pops up and she waves at us. Beside me, Alex’s entire body grins.

Who am I kidding? Mine does, too.

“They’re with me, Todd!” Daughtry calls.

Todd opens the rope gate and shoos us inside without another word.

“This is so cool,” Alex whispers under his breath. “No one’s going to believe this when school starts.”

“Agreed.” I’ve never been backstage at anything. The last concert I went to had been Summerfest in Milwaukee with Josie when Alex was four. It was nothing like this. People in summer weight suits stand around on their phones, artists sit with their instruments, and grips set up heavy pieces of equipment. Everyone chats and laughs or sings quietly to themselves.

Daughtry, in her gloves and dress and pink hair, fits in perfectly. Me, not so much.

It should not have irritated me as much as it does.

“Hi!” Daughtry glances up at me, her eyes sparkling, before wrapping Alex in a hug. “I’m so glad you guys came.”

“Thank you so much for doing this,” Alex says before I can even open my mouth. “You are the coolest.”

“Thanks.” She flips her hair over her shoulder, hitting me with a waft of her shampoo smell. That scent lingered on my hands last night after I—

“Hi, Daughtry.” My voice cracks like I’m a thirteen-year-old again.

“Hey, Declan.” Her mouth widens into a sinuous curve that unwinds all aspects of my composure. “Come this way.” With her arm around Alex’s shoulders, she guides us through the crowd to a quartet of shipping crates where four musicians sit. I recognize Ellery Vaughn from America Sings! Her guitar rests against her leg like she doesn’t feel whole without it.

I get that. It’s how I feel, with Daughtry here.

Ellery raises a hand. “Hi. You must be Alex and Declan. Nice to meet you. I’m Ellery.”

Daughtry points around the circle. “This is Dante, Selene, and Lorraine. They’re the Vendetta.”

Alex vibrates with excitement beside me. “I am so excited to meet you guys. I’m a massive fan.”

“Pull up a crate, friend.” Dante gestures to the crate beside him and Alex perches on it. If he weren’t nine, I’d check to ensure he’s not having a heart attack. He looks stunned and mesmerized and nervous, all at once.

“You guys are my favorite band,” Alex says, sitting on his hands. “I have so many questions for you.”

“Fire away,” Dante replies.

I’ve never seen my kid so excited. I owe this band the world’s largest fruit and wine basket.

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