As the applause settled, a small group of girls from my class came rushing over.
"That was so cool, Jake!" one of them said, eyes wide with admiration.
"Yeah, you sang like a real pop star," added another, practically glowing.
I gave a small nod and a polite smile, but under my breath, I muttered, "Do I have some kind of aura that attracts lolis?"
Just then, Uncle Charlie walked up with his signature smirk.
"So," he said playfully, "are you planning to charm every twelve-year-old girl in the city, or just the ones in your school district?"
I gave him a dry look. "Hilarious."
He chuckled. "I mean, I knew you had range, but you're starting to get fan mail from the swing set crowd."
"I need a new audience," I muttered.
"Hey," Charlie shrugged. "Take the fans where you can get 'em."
Before I could respond, Miss Tuttle approached with a warm smile.
"Jake, that was a beautiful performance. Truly moving," she said. "You've got real talent."
"Thanks, Miss Tuttle," I replied.
Then she turned to Charlie. "And you—you're excellent on the piano."
Charlie flashed his trademark grin. "I try to keep up with the prodigy here."
Miss Tuttle chuckled, then slipped a folded note into Charlie's hand. "If that dinner offer still stands," she said with a playful glint in her eyes, "give me a call."
Charlie looked down at the note, then back at her with a sly grin.
She winked and walked away, leaving him blinking in pleasant surprise.
"Oooh, Uncle Charlie's gonna get laid," I teased.
"Jake?!" Alan said, shocked and clearly disapproving.
"Hey, I'm just pointing out the obvious. If you want to scold someone, scold Uncle Charlie," I said, shrugging in self-defense.
Charlie folded the note with a satisfied grin and slipped it into his pocket. "I love parent-teacher night."
Alan rolled his eyes. "It wasn't even your kid performing."
"Details, Alan," Charlie said breezily. "Details."
I shook my head. "Can we just go before you hit on the PTA president too?"
Charlie grinned wider. "Too late."
Alan groaned. "Let's go."
Outside, the sun had dipped just enough to cast long shadows over the parking lot. Parents chatted in clusters, kids chased each other between cars, and Charlie took a sip from a bottle—one that definitely wasn't filled with water.
"Great job in there, buddy," Alan said as we walked toward the car. "You really took the spotlight."
I nodded. "Thanks. I was worried it might come off too cheesy."
Charlie snorted. "Kid, if I had a dollar for every time I sold a cheesy jingle and cashed a check, I'd have... well, exactly as much money as I already do."
Alan turned back to me. "Seriously though, I know we tease, but that was special."
I glanced over at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. "Thanks, Dad."
As Alan pulled out of the school parking lot and we headed toward the car, I remembered that Dad had recently bought Uncle Charlie's old Jaguar—since Dad's Porsche only had room for two. Uncle Charlie, of course, had upgraded to a Mercedes.
The car was quiet for a few minutes, windows down, warm air blowing through. I leaned back, letting the night breeze cool my face.
"I think I'm gonna miss this place," I said softly.
"You're not even gone yet," Alan replied.
"Yeah, but... it's weird. When you know something's ending, it starts feeling different. More valuable."
Charlie nodded thoughtfully. "The nostalgia starts before the farewell. That's how you know you're getting older."
"I'm twelve," I reminded him.
"Still counts," he said, taking another sip.
After a few days, the house smelled like fresh coffee, toasted bagels, and sunscreen—which could only mean one thing: Summer Vacation.
Alan sat at the kitchen table with his laptop open, scrolling through travel sites, while Charlie sipped a mimosa like it was already the weekend.
"So, Jake," Alan said, looking up, "since you've officially wrapped up the school year and—well—leveled up academically, we thought you deserved a proper celebration. I was thinking... Barbados?"
I blinked. "Barbados? Seriously?"
Charlie nodded. "Sun, beach, drinks in coconuts. What's not to like?"
I paused, thinking. I'd never been to Barbados before, and as one of the most famous Caribbean islands, it had to be gorgeous.
"Alright," I said, hiding a small grin. "I'm listening."
Alan tapped something into his laptop. "Flights are open next week. We could go for ten days, maybe more if you're up for it."
"I'm definitely up for it," I said.
Alan hesitated a beat. "There's just... one thing. Mom wants to come too."
I raised an eyebrow. "My mom or your mom?"
Charlie, without missing a beat, muttered, "Does it matter?"
Alan sighed, clearly uncomfortable. "Well... both."
Charlie chuckled and leaned back in his chair, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Fantastic. A tropical island getaway with not one, but two hurricanes in heels." Then he turned to Alan. "Why would you even tell them about the trip?"
Alan raised his hands in surrender. "They both didn't want to be left out of Jake's big vacation. What was I supposed to do?"
Charlie scoffed. "If I remember correctly, our mother used to pray for vacations without us. She shipped us to camp every summer just to enjoy a martini in silence."
I leaned forward, grinning. "Yeah, well... you weren't exactly people she could brag about at brunch or making her win millions."
Charlie just gave me a look.
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