I grab my tote bag and hitch my soft guitar case over my shoulder. “Marta gave me a map. I’m going to find my way to that grove we passed last night. I need a good place to rehearse,” I say, and head for the grand foyer.
I’d allowed myself exactly three minutes last night to freak out about the audition—a trick I learned from CeCe, who had trained to be an actress before she ended up in Ellis—and then set to work. I’d used my new Mac to peruse my iTunes account until I’d made a list of possible songs to add to my audition piece. I’d spent most of the morning running through the lyrics, but now that Joe is up, I feel the need to get out of the house. I could hear the grove’s soothing song through my open window most of the night, and since Marta claimed that nobody ever went there, it seemed like a place worth scouting out as a practice spot. I’ve always preferred rehearsing in nature. When I was little, my mom used to claim that the flowers in the greenhouse grew twice as big because I sang to them.
“You can rehearse in my studio,” Joe calls after me.
“Your studio smells like Cheez Whiz.”
“Right. That it does.” Joe stumbles into the foyer behind me. “I know, how about I buy you a new guitar? That’s quality daddy-daughter time, right?” He reaches behind him and pulls out his wallet—where he fit a wallet in those pants, I don’t want to know—and opens the billfold. “A few thousand ought to do it.… Huh. I seem to have misplaced all my cash.…”
“I think you donated it to the local liquor store.” I open the front door. I don’t have time for his attempts at pretending to be a good parent.
“Wait. My AmEx is upstairs.… Wait here.”
“You’ve got an interview, and I need to rehearse.” I pat my guitar. “I like Gibby anyway.”
Doesn’t he remember how I got her?
“But I don’t want you rehearsing outside. Not today. What if it gets dark before you get back? How will I know where you’ll be?”
“It’s one in the afternoon, remember? And you’ve never known where I was at any given point in time for the last seventeen years. Today shouldn’t be any different.”
“Just wait,” he says. “If you don’t want a new guitar, let’s get you a new amp. A nice Fender? I’ll tell that reporter to come back tomorrow, and I’ll make sure I get you to the school with enough time to run through your audition piece a few times in one of their practice rooms.”
I pause. I could really use a new amp.…
I sigh, wondering how much I’ll regret the decision I’m about to make. “Okay, but only if we’re quick. And I get to drive.”
There is one benefit to Joe’s constant need for a designated driver—I am going to rack up the remaining hours behind the wheel I need to get my license in no time.
“Brilliant!” Joe waves his hand at me in a wait-here motion. “I’ll be right back with my card. I’ll help you rehearse when we get to the school.” He tries to bound up the stairs two at a time, but either his pants or his hangover slows him down. He whistles the melody from one of his songs as he disappears out of my sight.
I wait for a few minutes. The large clock in the foyer sounds like a countdown timer, the time I have left to rehearse ticking away. I realize I can’t hear his whistle anymore.
“Joe?” I call up the stairs. “Did you get lost?”
This house is so big, I might not put it past him.
Joe doesn’t answer. I wonder if I should wait here longer or go looking for him. My guitar grows heavy against my back. My shoulders ache. I suddenly feel like I’m ten years old again, waiting at the window—with a hefty telescope in my arms—for Joe to come pick me up so we can go stargazing. I’d waited until almost midnight that night, until my mother had insisted I go to bed. I’m sorry, honey. I just don’t think he’s coming.…
Standing here in his cavernous foyer, I hate that one small promise of a shopping trip can make me feel like that little girl all over again. Why am I putting myself in this position? Why am I letting Joe back in again just so I can be disappointed?
But shouldn’t I be happy that he wants to spend time with me? Shouldn’t I be forgiving? I mean, he brought me here, he’s giving me everything I’ve ever wanted, he’s giving me the opportunity to follow my dreams. Shouldn’t I be grateful? If the man wants to spend the afternoon with me, shouldn’t I let him?
But I already know how this is going to turn out. Whether it’s here or at the store or later today at the auditions, he’s going to forget or he’s going to get distracted, or something, and I’m going to be left waiting once more like that disappointed little girl.
No, I’m not going to let that happen. I’m not here for daddy-daughter bonding time. I’m not here to reconnect with my long-lost father. Joe is a means to an end. A ticket out of Ellis and an opportunity for a top-flight education. I’m here for myself. To achieve my goals, and right now, that’s getting into the music program at OHH. After that, it’s making a name for myself in the music world—all on my own.