See You Soon Broadway (Broadway Series Book 1)

by Melissa Baldwin

  “I think it means exactly what it sounds like. He wants to just date you and nobody else.” She looks at me as if I’ve said something crazy. “I don’t get it, isn’t this what you have wanted all along? Dr. Scott is amazing, so what’s the problem?”

  I start to empty the bag of things I brought home. I proudly unpack my songbooks and add them to my special shelf. My dad had gotten me this amazing bookshelf that hangs above my keyboard. Georgie teases me that it looks like a trophy case that you would find in the lobby of a school.

  “Problem? Are you kidding? This is the best thing ever!” she screams as she starts jumping on my bed, she then lays down and covers her face as she screams into my pillow.

  I haven’t seen her this happy in a long time.

  “I don’t get you. Why did you even ask me what he meant by that?” I lie down on the bed next to her.

  “Because you have that crazy good intuition; as soon as I heard you say it, I knew I could believe it.”

  I laugh. That makes no sense at all. If I had such great intuition, I would know what to do with my life.

  “So, when can we plan it?” she asks eagerly.

  “Plan what?” I ask. I was too busy thinking about my own life that I didn’t hear a word she just said.

  “A double date. With our boyfriends!” she exclaims excitedly as she jumps up and dances out of my room.

  I lie there for a few minutes thinking about everything that’s been happening. Despite my emotional day at my parents’ house, it turned out to be fine. I’m really happy for Georgie and I have Kyle. I just need to keep reminding myself how lucky I am. I get up to take a shower and get ready for bed.

  Chapter 6

  I can’t remember the last time I was this excited. Saturday morning has arrived and today is the day for my lunch with Beatrice. I could hardly sleep thinking about it. Truthfully, I don’t even know what I’m so excited about. I’ve thought about this a lot—I know I’m curious to learn more about Grandma, but maybe down deep I’m hoping for an answer to all my questions. Not that a complete stranger will have them, but perhaps the answer lies within Grandma’s past.

  At the last minute, I decide not to bring the journal being that I haven’t made it all the way through it and you never know what she had written in there. What if she wrote something mean about Beatrice? I would feel terrible! Not only that, I haven’t even met her yet and I’m not about to share Grandma’s innermost thoughts with a stranger, friend of hers or not.

  When I arrive at her cute little house, I sit in my car for a minute and collect my thoughts. I can’t just walk in there and ask her to tell me everything she knows. I have a feeling that I’m dealing with an old woman who’s a little lonely, otherwise why should she be so eager for me to come over?

  Before I have a chance to ring the doorbell, Beatrice opens the door. “My goodness. Maris, come in.” Beatrice ushers me in. She leads me into her living room, which is decorated more modern than I expected. I guess I expected a little old lady’s living room with floral couches and walls of pictures with mismatched frames and lots of cats. Her home is nothing like that; in fact, it looks more like a picture in a Pier 1 catalog.

  “Can I get you something to drink? I just made a pitcher of my famous homemade lemonade.” She jumps up before I could give her an answer and out of the blue she pulls out a tray of lemonade and a bowl of mixed nuts.

  “Please tell me about yourself, and how is your mother?”

  I give her a rundown of Mom and Dad and their moving plans, and thankfully it’s the perfect lead-in to my questions.

  “My parents moving brings me to why I’m here. While I was looking through boxes at their house, I found a journal that was Grandma’s. It’s a red leather journal and she wrote inside that you had given it to her.” I pause as I wait for her to say something.

  “Yes, I remember. I gave it to her because I always told her how important it was to keep record of special events. I’m a bit surprised she actually used it. Maris was not the most organized person. Extremely creative but not organized.” She smiles and takes a sip of her lemonade.

  “She did use it, and it’s been really interesting to read. My mom says she never really talked much about that time of her life. I had no idea she was ever a radio performer in New York City until I found the journal. I’ve always felt a strong connection to her because I’m also a singer and I, too, have always dreamed of performing in New York. I have to admit I was really excited when I found all this out.”

  Beatrice nods her head. I need to slow down and give her a chance to talk because I keep rambling.

  “Anyway, my mom told me that you may know more about that time of her life and I’m just really curious, so any information you can give would be awesome.” I finally stop talking.

  “Well.” She puts down her glass. “As I told you on the phone, Maris and I met in college. We stayed friends throughout our schooling and ran with the same group of friends. She was very talented, and she always went after what she wanted. I admired that about her, everyone did. I remember giving her that journal for her birthday.”

  I listen as she continues to talk until she’s interrupted by the front door.

  “Hi, Gran, I have your lunch,” a male voice calls.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered lunch for us; believe it or not, I’m a dreadful cook. It’s a shock, I know. Eighty-nine years old and I still can’t cook a good meal. I do make great lemonade though.” She holds up her glass to toast.

  “Of course I don’t mind.”

  “My grandson is such a dear and picked up lunch for us. He helps me out a lot since my daughter doesn’t live nearby.” She picks up her glass. “Come now, let’s eat and we can talk more about Maris. I ordered from a delightful little café; their sandwiches practically melt in your mouth.”

  I follow her into the kitchen. One room after another, I feel like I’m walking through Pier 1.

  “Gran, they apologized that they ran out of the chicken salad and gave you this . . .”

  What the . . . ? It can’t be. I stand there in complete shock.

  “Maris?” he says, dropping the container on the counter.

  I don’t believe it; it’s Trevor from Dr. Scott’s charity event.

  ‘Trevor?”

  Beatrice stands there looking as confused as I feel. “Trevor, how do you know Maris?” she asks, looking back and forth between us.

  Trevor smiles smugly. “What would you say, Maris? We ran into each other at an event a few weeks ago, right?”

  I scowl.

  “Yes, unfortunately, I’m so clumsy that I ran into him and spilled champagne all over him and his very expensive suit. Right, frat boy?” I smile through my gritted teeth.

  “It’s nice seeing you again, too,” he says, ignoring my admission. “Now, how is it that you’re standing here in my Gran’s kitchen?”

  Before I can say anything, Beatrice explains about me contacting her and about her friendship with Grandma.

  “So let me get this straight, our grandmothers were friends hundreds of years ago.” He raises his eyebrows.

  “You watch your mouth young man,” Beatrice interrupts. I guess she didn’t like the “hundreds of years ago” comment.

  He laughs. “You contacted my Gran to learn more about your grandmother. Wow.”

  “This sure is an interesting coincidence,” Beatrice says as she nudges Trevor. I can feel myself turning bright red. That’s not a good sign. I wish he would just leave.

  As if he was reading my mind, he speaks up. “So, I will leave you ladies to have your lunch.” He gives Beatrice a kiss on the cheek. “Love ya, Gran.”

  “No no no, you should join us,” she replies and grabs his arm. “There’s plenty of food. You don’t mind, do you, Maris?”

  I want to shout, “Yes, I do.” But instead, I just plaster a huge fake smile on my face and shake my head.

  “Well, in that case.” He grabs a plate out of the cabinet and starts d
igging into our lunch. Who does this guy think he is interrupting our lunch? Granted, this is his grandmother’s house, but still. I have no doubt that Trevor is her pride and joy and he probably does no wrong in her eyes. He just seems so overly confident and arrogant. I know I’m completely overreacting to him being here, but I was really hoping to learn more about my Grandma. And . . . why does he have to be so attractive? What’s wrong with me?

  “Maris, how is everything going with you?” Trevor asks, clearly trying make things less awkward. “Have you been in touch with Liv? Gran, did you know Maris is a singer?”

  “I did,” she says, taking a sip of her drink, “and I find it fascinating considering my friend Maris was also.”

  “That’s right,” he says, pointing at me with his fork. “I remember you telling me you were named after your grandma.”

  I nod my head. I have to admit I’m surprised at how much he remembers about our very brief encounter. Beatrice seems very interested in our conversation and keeps hinting around how she thinks things happen for a reason. I’m not exactly sure where she’s going with that but I can only guess.

  “So, how’s Giselle?” I ask sweetly. It’s my turn to ask a question.

  “Doing great.”

  He gives a very short answer. I remember before leaving the party that they looked as if they were having a pretty heated discussion.

  “Mmmhmm . . . you’ve met Giselle?” Beatrice asks, sounding surprised. I wonder what Beatrice thinks of Giselle? Not that I would be surprised if she didn’t care for her, being that Giselle seems like a miserable human being. Granted, I just met her briefly, so I suppose I shouldn’t be so quick to judge her. Maybe she was having a bad day? Or . . . maybe she’s just a snotty bitch? I have a feeling it’s the latter.

  “That reminds me, Gran, Giselle wants to take you shopping for your big birthday.”

  Beatrice makes a face. “Not this again. Why’s there so much damn emphasis on this birthday? So I’m turning ninety—big deal.”

  “What? Of course, it’s a big deal.” I interrupt. “Ninety is like . . . the biggest birthday ever and you should be celebrated.”

  She rolls her eyes and folds her arms. “Fine, then, I already told Katherine that she could give me that big party, but I don’t want to go shopping.” She looks at Trevor. “So tell miss fancy pants that I appreciate the offer but no thanks.”

  “Got it,” he says in agreement. “You know she was just trying to do something nice.”

  “Ya-ya,” she replies.

  “Who’s Katherine?” I ask, taking another bite of the most delicious fruit salad I have every tried. I close my eyes because it’s amazing.

  “My mother,” Trevor says at the same time as Beatrice says, “My daughter.”

  “Honestly, what would I go shopping for anyway?” Beatrice asks, sounding annoyed. ”A walker or maybe some Depends underwear?”

  Okay, so Beatrice has made it more than clear that she really doesn’t like Giselle. Shocker!

  “Gran, she wanted to help you pick out something to wear,” Trevor says, sounding offended. “She even mentioned taking you to your hair appointment.”

  Beatrice and Trevor continue their banter about Giselle and the birthday shopping. I sit back in my chair and stay quiet. It’s pretty obvious that my lunch date is over. I will have to plan another day when stupid Trevor doesn’t crash it. I can’t leave fast enough.

  “Beatrice, thank you so much for lunch,” I say after cleaning up my lunch plates. “Unfortunately, I have some work to do this afternoon, but I would love to come back and visit again soon.”

  “Oh dear,” she says, looking worried. “We didn’t finish our conversation; I have plenty more to tell you. When will you be able to come over again?”

  I look at Trevor who still looks offended over poor Giselle.

  “How about I come pick you up and take you out for lunch or dinner?” I don’t want to take a chance on Trevor playing delivery boy again. In fact, I hope to not have any more contact with him ever again.

  We make a date for a few weeks out. As I’m leaving, Trevor follows me out to my car. “Hey. Sorry about interrupting your lunch. I really had no idea.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “No problem. Anyway, nice seeing you again.” I hold out my hand.

  “You, too,” he replies, taking my hand. “Drive safe.” He looks like he’s about to say something else but he doesn’t.

  On my drive home, I’m frustrated because that did not go as I expected at all. First, Trevor interrupts us, then he ends up staying the whole time, and the worst part is that I really didn’t learn any new information. When I come to a red light, I lean my head on the steering wheel. Why is Trevor so interested in me and my career anyway? I admit I feel a little confused about my disdain for him, or maybe my attraction to him? Either way I obviously have issues.

  When I get home, Georgie is doing laundry. She must sense my disappointment as soon as she sees me.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  I dramatically tell her everything about my day.

  “Wait a second.” She interrupts me. “Are you telling me that the hot guy from the party that you ran into also happens to be your Grandma’s best friend’s grandson?”

  “Yep.”

  “You know what this is, right? This is a sign,” she exclaims.

  “A sign for what?”

  “Maris!” she screams. “You know I love you, but sometimes you’re clueless when it comes to matters of the heart.”

  What’s she talking about? She sounds like a Hallmark card. I’m not that clueless and it’s not like I don’t know what she’s implying and she couldn’t be more wrong.

  “Ha! I know what you’re thinking and it’s completely ridiculous. In case you have forgotten, I have a boyfriend named Kyle, and not only that, Trevor is a conceited frat boy who also happens to have a supermodel girlfriend. That pretty much sums it up.”

  “I didn’t think he was that conceited,” Georgie says, shrugging. “He seemed nice, but you sure do seem bothered by him.”

  I sigh. “Whatever. I’m not bothered one bit and it doesn’t matter anyway. It just annoyed me that he interrupted our lunch and completely took over the conversation. Anyway, how are things with Dr. Scott?” I ask, trying to get away from this whole Trevor nonsense.

  “So good,” she says excitedly. “It’s just hard keeping things professional at the hospital being that we haven’t told anyone we’re exclusive yet.”

  Georgie has told me some pretty crazy stories about the drama that goes on at work. It sounds like a real-life General Hospital. Sometimes I wonder how any actual work gets done there. I mean, are sheets and bedpans ever changed or is it one big soap opera?

  “Everyone knows we’re dating, but they think it’s casual. There is going to be a lot of disappointed women when they find out.” She smiles mischievously.

  “So, Dr. Scott is the man at General Hospital,” I say and give her a wink.

  “Very funny,” she says sarcastically. “But, yes, he is.”

  I laugh.

  Kyle left me a message while I was at Beatrice’s house. When I call him back, he wants hear all about our lunch. In my mind, I’m trying to decide if I should tell him about Trevor. Being that I have nothing to hide, there’s no reason not to tell him.

  “Beatrice is awesome; she’s feisty and fun. She looks fantastic for being eighty-nine years old.” I tell him. “It was really cool meeting her and get this, her grandson brought us lunch and talk about a small world. Do you remember Trevor from Dr. Scott’s party?”

  “Which one was Trevor?”

  “He introduced us to Liv and Tom.” I remind him. I can tell he doesn’t remember, which is fine because I doubt we will ever see him again. “Anyway, it’s not important but it was just a funny coincidence.”

  “I’m glad you had a good time. Did you learn anything new about your grandma?” he asks.

  “Not really since we kept getting interrupted. I�
�m going to take her to lunch in a few weeks so hopefully then.”

  “That sounds like a plan. Now for some fun news . . . I have a surprise for you.”

  A surprise? Hopefully this is a real surprise and not another life-changing request like he thinks we should get a puppy or something.

  “I have to attend a few days of training for my new job and I was wondering if you wanted to accompany me, and it just happens to be in New York City.” I can tell he isn’t that excited, but I appreciate his enthusiasm for my sake.