“Of course not,” she scoffed. “I’m just wishing I would have said no so I could enjoy the ceremony. It’s a big deal. And instead of basking in Cody’s achievements, I have to worry about giving a speech and not saying ‘shit’ and appalling an audience of grandmas and kids because there’s no editing.”
“She’s totes nervous,” Dean stage-whispered to Dayana.
“Am not,” Maggie argued.
“Are too,” Dayana said cheerfully. She took Maggie’s hands in hers. “Nervous is good. Nerves mean it matters to you. Besides, this is a chance to tell the next generation what garbage most of the advice they’re going to get is. Tell them what you wish someone would have told you at that age.”
Because that wasn’t depressing at all. Tell the shiny, happy faces of a bunch of hopeful eighteen-year-olds, “Hang on to your loved ones, kids, because you never know when your mom, your rock, the person who loves you best in this world will be ripped away from you, often without warning.”
Yeah. No. She would stick with her generic “work hard and focus on your goals” speech.
The dignified strains of “Pomp and Circumstance” began.
“Well, that’s my cue,” she said, feigning a smile.
Maggie sat next to Emmett Wright and studied the crowd, spotting Silas immediately. With Cody’s parents as no-shows, the man had rallied one hell of a cheering section for the kid. He juggled a squirmy Keaton while Mama B, Morris, and Blaire fanned themselves with their programs. Michael, Nirina, Jeremiah, and Kayla sat on his other side. Behind them were Jim Hines and half of the Bitterroot crew.
She stood when the class marched into the stadium and shocked the hell out of herself when she found Cody, solemn and proud in emerald green, and felt tears start to well up. He looked at her and winked, that half-smile making an appearance.
Emmett squeezed her shoulder. “You did good, kid,” he whispered.
Despite the warmth of the sun, Maggie felt goose bumps crop up on her arms.
You did good, kid.
It was something her mom had said to her whenever Maggie managed to make her proud.
The seniors took their seats, and there wasn’t nearly enough time for her to calm herself before Principal Richardson was announcing how proud she was to introduce “celebrity Maggie Nichols as our keynote speaker.”
She was halfway to the podium before she realized they were clapping. All of them. The students. The faculty. The families in the stands. Off to the side, on the green, green grass, she saw Dean recording away with the camera, standing with a local journalist and representatives from the student newspaper.
She felt a tiny bit like a rock star.
Mechanically, she shook the principal’s hand and stepped behind the podium. Cody was full-on grinning now. She could feel the burst of pride coming from the direction of Silas and company. Mama B blew her a kiss.
She cleared her throat and took the leap. “This is where I’m supposed to tell you that hard work and staying focused on your goals is how you succeed,” she began as the crowd quieted. “And while that’s true, success is only a very small part of life. That’s not how you find happiness. Because, at the end of the day, your quality of life is determined by the people you surround yourself with. The significant others, the partners, the sisters, the friends, the team you choose. The people who have your back. The people who celebrate your wins and mourn your losses with you.”
She looked at Silas and Dean and Dayana and Cody as she spoke and keenly felt their joy.
“Kinship taught me that.” A whoop went up from the crowd, and she smiled. “Maybe it’s something you already know. But it’s a truth that sooner or later we all forget. And it’s one we have to fight to remember.”
“Cody Moses,” the loudspeaker crackled.
Their section was on its feet, hooting and hollering, when he walked across the field tall and proud to accept that hard-won diploma. The team—okay, fine, the family—they’d somehow managed to build was bigger and louder than any nuclear family in attendance. Together they cheered at the top of their lungs while Cody held his diploma up and punched his fist into the air.
It was a win worth celebrating.
“Aw, crap,” Maggie gasped as her vision clouded.
Silas, grinning, pulled her into his side and planted a kiss on top of her head.
A teary-eyed Dayana blindly shoved a tissue at her.
Maggie felt like she was one of the parents in the stands. Steeped in the moment. Reveling in the accomplishment of a person they loved dearly.