“No, I didn’t. No one told me what time you’d be here,” which was why she was wearing sweatpants and socks, instead of at least jeans and shoes.
“You’ll ruin your voice if you do that,” the ample Italian woman warned her. “You must never sing without warming up first. And the gospel song—can you always hit those high notes?” Salima said she could, with a grin. Lucianna looked at her then with tears in her eyes. “Do you realize how lucky you are? What a gift you have? People train for years and can’t hit notes like that. You just soar right through it like a bird in the sky,” she said, and dabbed at her eyes. “What I could have done with a voice like yours.” She had explained that she was from Venice originally, although she had lived in Milan while she trained and studied. She asked Salima if she had any interest in opera, and Salima said she didn’t. She wanted to enjoy what she sang. It was mostly fun for her. “You should really be in school,” she said. “This is very naughty of you, to treat your voice like a toy. It’s not a plaything, it’s a gift.” She was a very funny woman, and Blaise thought she looked like a caricature of herself with her enormous body, skinny legs, and tiny feet in high heels. And she had gentle, loving eyes. Simon was watching her in fascination, and Salima was listening to her raptly.
“Would you be willing to take my daughter on as a student?” Blaise finally asked her bluntly, as everyone else beat around the bush.
“Of course,” she said with a wide smile that was wasted on Salima, but she reached out and touched her hand. “I would love to, it would be an honor. But I will expect you to work very hard,” she admonished Salima.
“How many times would you like to meet?” Blaise asked her and was startled when she said three times a week. “Is that too much?” Blaise asked with a look of concern. It seemed like a lot to her.
“Not if she’s serious about singing,” Lucianna answered. “If she had less of a voice, I’d say once or twice a week. But if we want results, and to train her voice properly, it should be three or even four times a week. We can start with three and see how she does.”
“What do you think, Salima?” Blaise didn’t want to leave her out of the decision and treat her like a child. “How many times a week would you want singing lessons?”
“Every day,” Salima said, grinning, and Lucianna looked thrilled. She looked like she had discovered gold that afternoon, or a diamond on the street.
They set their first meeting for the following afternoon, and Lucianna kissed Salima’s cheek and reminded her to keep her neck warm at all times and wear a scarf. She put her hat back on, shook hands with Blaise and Simon, and a moment later she was gone as they all stared at each other and began to laugh. She was a sweet woman even if she looked a little like a clown. That had only occurred to Blaise once they sat down.
“She smells awful, but I like her,” Salima was the first to comment.
“You should see what she looks like,” Blaise added with a smile, but she liked her too. There was something very warm and lovable about her.
Simon agreed that she was nice, and her credentials were excellent if she taught at Juilliard, and whatever happened, he thought it would be something fun for Salima to do. She was excited and talked about it all through dinner. Simon was cooking for them every night now. He tried to keep it light for Blaise but occasionally showed off with some of his fancier dishes. They were all superb. And it added a festive feeling to the evenings. Blaise found herself looking forward to their dinners together, and it was nice having someone ask her how her day was, and he looked as though he cared. Ever since their conversation about what she dealt with at the network, he had had even more respect for her, and sympathy when she came home.