“I know it was tough for you to get away from the city, but I really loved going on this adventure with you. I hope it’s just one of many to come.” He leaned in to kiss me again, pulling me in close with both arms.
The next day, we grabbed a black cab and headed to Heathrow. I rested my head on Gabe’s shoulder and stared out the window for the entirety of our taxi ride, enjoying the last few glimpses of London street life before heading back to the States. As we pulled into the traffic queue at the airport, I pulled out my phone to check the time, wanting to ensure we’d left ourselves enough, and noticed an email had popped up from Joanna at the casting agency. My heart dove into my stomach.
Avery,
Below please find the details of your final callback for the role of Marley in Marley Is Dead.
Location: Greenwich House Theater, 27 Barrow St, NY
Date: Tuesday, April 3rd
Time Slot: 1:00PM
In the interest of full disclosure, you are one of three finalists for the title role. We will be reading all three actresses that same day, so please be prompt and prepared. We look forward to seeing you for your callback.
Best,
Joanna Kitt, The Gerber Agency
My mouth had fallen open and I didn’t hear Gabe calling my name from outside our cab, let alone realize that the car had even stopped. I lifted my eyes filled with tears to Gabe, still waiting with an extended hand to help me out of the taxi. I wasn’t one of a dozen or even half a dozen—I was one of three actresses left in the running for the lead.
Before this trip, I’d believed this audition was just another that would end in disappointment. Maybe it’s why I didn’t put up more of a fight when Gabe mentioned Paris at such an inconvenient time. But no, I could feel it in my bones, this opportunity was mine for the taking, and I knew that, after years of ignoring my gut and my passion, I was never again going to look back and say, Damn, I wish I’d given it more.
Gabe peeked his head inside, his face full of concern. “Um . . . everything okay? You planning on getting out of the cab orrr . . .”
“Oh yeah, of course, sorry, sorry!” I said, shoving my phone in my pocket and reaching for his hand.
He slid one of his arms around me, the other pulling our suitcase in tow, and asked, “So, you ready to get home?”
“Actually,” I said, more confident than I’d felt about anything in a long time, “I am.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Three weeks after returning from Paris, just days before my final audition, I turned the key and pulled open the studio door to the rehearsal space I rented for the afternoon. Inhaling the smell of freshly Windexed windows and piney waxed floors, I set my bag and water bottle on the ground and waited for the accompanist. It was an investment, but with the Marley Is Dead audition just two days away, I couldn’t cut corners now. Mimi’s had been a great place to prepare at first, but over the last few weeks, I was finding it harder and harder to focus, so I booked four rehearsal sessions at Ripley-Grier Studios in Midtown for this final push.
I pulled out my character shoes and slid them on over my stockinged feet. Hearing footsteps behind me and the door creaking open, I fully expected to see Charlie, who said he would stop by as soon as his shift was over. But when I turned, instead of Charlie, a familiar man joined me in exclaiming, “You?!”
At our simultaneous epiphany, we both jumped back to take in the other. The pianist from the Marley Is Dead auditions was much taller than I expected, then again, he had been seated the last two times I saw him.
“How? Why? Did you know I was going to be here?” I asked, wondering if this was more than just a coincidence? Another gift of the phone booth?
“If I knew it was you, do you think I would have been so surprised to see you?” he said, rolling his eyes. “I freelance for the studio and pick up accompanist work during my slow seasons.”
“Isn’t this some sort of conflict of interest? You accompanying me? I just want to make sure I’m not breaking any rules that could disqualify me from the final audition or anything.”
“Actually, I’m not working the last audition. I’ve got a gig on one of Royal Caribbean’s newest ships. I leave tomorrow. I’ll be spending my nights playing piano in the sunset lounge and my days on the beaches in Mykonos. I can’t wait. So, you see, no conflict. Okay, just to clarify, though, you have the room reserved for four hours but I’m only contracted for two, so you tell me, what do you want to start with?”
He spoke as he strode over to the black baby grand set in the corner of the room, rested his satchel by one of the thick piano legs, and took a seat on the bench, placing a folder on the stand in front of him.
I dug the sheet music out of my bag and walked it over to him. “This is the new song they want the Marleys to perform at the final audition,” I said, passing it over the piano. “Hey, if we’re going to spend the next couple of hours together, we should probably at least know each other’s first names. I’m Avery,” I said, extending my hand.
“And I’m ready,” he said, straight faced, not even lifting a finger from the piano. “Do you really want to be wasting time with pleasantries when you have a Broadway audition in two days?”
I pulled my arm back and crossed it over my chest. “No, I guess not.”
“Okay then, let’s get started.”
As we approached “Ready’s” two-hour finish mark, my voice was growing raw and the notes were not sounding nearly as strong as they had been last week. Not even close. With every clunker I hit, Ready’s face puckered dramatically, showing no attempt at hiding his horror and even less restraint in calling me out. After a voice crack that practically knocked him off his piano bench, Ready slammed down the keyboard cover with a huff.
“I think that now would be a good time to call it. We could definitely both use a break.” He packed up his music, shoved it into his bag faster than I thought humanly possible, and scurried from the room, certain to not return.
My rehearsals had been going so well until these last few days, our Europe trip igniting a kind of fire under my skin I hadn’t felt in years. But now, with the audition looming so close, nerves were starting to take hold again. Notes I was hitting easily last week felt completely out of my range, my throat literally buckling under the pressure of this huge opportunity, and I couldn’t help but fear that this upcoming audition would be a repeat of the past.
I sat back down beside my bag and grabbed my water bottle, taking such a huge gulp that it ran down the wrong pipe, causing me to suddenly cough and choke violently. Water sprayed out of my mouth and across the mirror in front of me, and the drips slid down like rain on a window.
Charlie peeked his head into the room and tiptoed past the doorframe. “Everything okay in here?” He spied me wiping water from my face and then the mirror with the inside of my sleeve.