And Pierre had come through for her with flying colors. Every time one of the students or anyone else associated with Wildwood approached the famous couple, he found a way of distracting them, leading them away before they learned the news from someone else.
“So far, so good,” he whispered to Allegra while their parents were absorbed in a discussion of whether or not the dorm room was really big enough for three. “I’ve done my part. I got them up here without suspecting a thing. Now it’s your turn. And Allegra?”
“Yes?” she asked anxiously, looking to her big brother for encouragement.
“Just remember that no matter what happens, you can always come live with me and spend the rest of your life dusting my piano.”
“Oh, you!” Playfully she punched him in the shoulder, pretending to be annoyed by his teasing. But she understood his point. He was reminding her that no matter what happened tonight, it wasn’t going to be the end of the world.
“Maman, Daddy, I have a little surprise for you,’’ Allegra announced then, having just checked her watch and discovering that it was later than she had thought. “Instead of going to the picnic with everybody else—where you’d be swamped by hoards of adoring fans—I thought the four of us could go out for a quick dinner at a little club in town.”
Paolo and Catherine exchanged puzzled glances.
“Well, of course, dear,” said Allegra’s mother. “Whatever you want. After all, we want this weekend to be special for you. One that you’ll never forget.’’
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Pierre said with mock seriousness. “This weekend is guaranteed to be one that Allegra will never forget.”
* * * *
The world-famous conductor and the opera star at his side looked a bit out of place at the Ace of Clubs. Paolo Ferrante was wearing an expensive, well-cut suit and a dark classic tie, while Catherine Lafarge was in a simple lemon yellow silk dress with a strand of pearls and a pair of diamond earrings. Even so, it was clear that they intended to be good sports about it.
“This is a nice little place you have here,” Paolo said to the owner, Big Bart, as he sauntered over to their table.
Allegra was holding her breath, afraid of what Big Bart might say. But somehow he must have sensed what was going on, because after giving her a long, hard look, he simply said, “If you think my hamburgers are good, stick around for the floor show at eight. We’ve got a fantastic band with a singer you won’t believe.”
“Thank you very much,” Catherine said politely, “but I’m afraid we have a concert to go to over at the Wildwood Performing Arts Center.’’
Big Bart just nodded. “Well, folks, there’s all different kinds of music in the world,” he said. “Sometimes it doesn’t hurt to give each one of them a chance.’’
As the Ferrante family ate a light dinner, the club began to fill up. Allegra noted that Steve had come in with the others, taking a table in back where they could watch the action without being noticed themselves. She was getting more and more nervous, looking at her watch every minute or so, wondering why on earth she had ever let herself get into this jam in the first place.
And then her father said, “Well, it’s already after seven, and I think we’d better be getting over to the Arts Center. What time are you expected to be there, Allegra?”
She gulped. “Uh, the concerto isn’t until the end of the concert. So, uh, we still have lots of time.”
“Perhaps, but I would think you’d want to get there a little early,” Catherine said. “Especially tonight.”
“I, uh, well...”
“Oh, come on, let’s stay a little longer,” Pierre said heartily. “I’m kind of curious about this band that guy was talking about. I’d like to check it out.”
“You, Pierre?’’ Paolo Ferrante was surprised at this brand-new side of his son, one he had never seen before.
“Well, sure, Dad, why not? It’s like that guy was saying, the owner or whoever he is. You’ve got to be open-minded and try listening to all types of music. Who knows? You might find out there’s something out there you really like!” He winked at his sister.
“Well, if you’re sure we have time....” Catherine said hesitantly.
“There’s time,’’ Allegra assured them. “And do you know what? I just saw some people I know. Some of the kids from Wildwood. Will you excuse me? I want to go over and say hello.” With that, she disappeared.
“Where is she?” Paolo asked a few minutes later, looking at his watch. “My goodness, is it really almost eight? Is my watch fast? We’d really better be heading over to ...”
“Wait a minute, Dad,” Pierre interrupted. “It looks like that band the owner was talking about is going to be coming on in a minute. Look, those guys up on the stage are getting setup.”
“Good evening, folks, and welcome to New Talent Night here at the Ace of Clubs.’’ Big Bart had just stepped up onto the small stage and taken hold of the microphone. “I’m really excited about the group we’ve got for tonight, and I know you will be, too, as soon as they start rocking. So without further delay, I give you ... Pied Piper, featuring Allegra Ferrante!”
“What on earth ... ?” Paolo Ferrante demanded, starting to stand up.
Catherine just let out a loud gasp.
“Sit down, Dad,” Pierre instructed. “Look, just give her a chance, will you? It’s all she’s asking you for. Just a chance.’’
As Paolo looked over at his son, his mouth was open, and his dark eyes were wide with disbelief. But much to Pierre’s surprise, after hesitating for only a moment, he sat right back down.
And then the group on the stage broke into song. Right from the start the entire audience was mesmerized. The beat was electrifying, the musicians were outstanding.... But the real attraction was the singer. The crowd was with her, coming together in appreciation of her voice. There was magic in that room, something everyone could feel, something everyone recognized as rare. And there was no question in anyone’s mind that the source of that magic was Allegra Ferrante.
In the middle of her song, Allegra glanced over at her parents, nervous about what their reaction was but desperate to find out. And her heart nearly exploded with relief when she saw the expressions on their faces. Her mother looked surprised ... but even more than that, pleased. As for her father, she saw on his face the same proud look she had seen earlier that day, when he was talking about her winning the concerto competition.
Then the first song was over, and the crowd burst into wild applause. Even her parents were clapping enthusiastically. But she saw her father look at his watch and, wearing a frown, lean over to ask Pierre something. She knew exactly what he was saying, too. He was wondering how she would ever get out of here in time to play the concerto. She also knew that Pierre was simply putting him off, making up some excuse. It was her responsibility to explain, not her brother’s. And there would be time for that soon enough.
That time came less than twenty minutes later, in fact, after Pied Piper had finished their first set and were scheduled to take a five-minute break. Allegra made a beeline for her family’s table. Her dark eyes were wild and bright, and her cheeks were flushed—partly from the excitement of having just given the best performance of her life, partly because of her nervousness over what she knew was coming next.
“Allegra, that was wonderful!’’ her mother cried, coming over and giving her a hug. “Why, I had no idea you could sing like that! When did you ever find the time ...?”
“Yes, yes, it was very nice,” Paolo Ferrante cut in, standing up. “But have you looked at the time? We must get over to the Arts Center right away.”
Much to his surprise, however, his daughter didn’t budge.
“Allegra? Didn’t you hear me?’’ he said, looking puzzled. “It’s almost eight-thirty, and ...”
“Daddy, Maman, there’s something I have to tell you.”
Allegra took a deep breath. She could feel three pairs of eyes burning into her—her mo
ther’s, her father’s her brother’s. All around her she could hear people making comments about how much they had enjoyed listening to Pied Piper ... and especially how much they had loved the singer. She gathered up all her courage, knowing that these next five minutes or so were going to be the most difficult five minutes of her life.
“I—I’m not going to be performing the concerto tonight.’’
“What?” Both her parents were certain they had heard her incorrectly. What she was saying, after all, made no sense to them.
“What did you say, Allegra?” her father repeated. “It is so noisy in here. I thought I heard you say ...”
“You heard me correctly,” Allegra said. “I’m not performing the concerto tonight.” It was easier to say the second time around.
“I don’t understand,” Paolo said. “Of course you are performing tonight. Everything is all set up. The Mendelssohn, the orchestra, Amos Derwood ...”
“Please, sit down. I want to explain.”
Allegra was astonished at the sense of control she was feeling. She was no longer scared, and she was no longer uncertain. Doing this, telling her parents what she really felt, suddenly seemed like the right thing to do ... the only thing to do. Now that it was actually happening, she could hardly believe she had ever had any doubts. It was simply meant to be this way.
“All my life you’ve wanted something special for me,” she began in a soft, even voice. “You wanted me to be a violinist. And I wanted it, too, for a long time. Music meant everything to me when I was a little girl.
“And music still means everything to me. The only thing is, I discovered somewhere along the way that the kind of music that I want to spend my life making is not quite the kind of music you expected me to make.
“Maman, Daddy, I love you both. And I would never in a million years do anything to hurt you. But do you know what? Being up here at Wildwood this summer, being on my own for the first time, taught me that sometimes you might have to take the risk of hurting people if you want to do what’s right. If you want to do what you feel in your heart is right for you.”
“And this ... this singing is what you feel is right for you?” Paolo asked, still not quite able to believe the words he was hearing her say.
“That’s right, Daddy. I want to spend my life singing. Or at least I want to try. I know it’s a really tough field and all... but then again, so is playing classical violin. The important thing is that you’ve got to give it everything you’ve got.... And you’ve got to go ahead and do it.”
Allegra shook her head. “This is something that’s been in me all along. Only now I’ve chosen to let it come out, instead of trying to push it aside because of being afraid it might not be what other people expected. And even if it isn’t exactly what you want for me, I hope you’ll be able to accept it. That you’ll be able to understand that it’s what’s best for me simply because it’s what I want.”
She was silent then, waiting to hear their reaction. She felt a strange sense of calmness, of having finally finished something she started a long, long time ago. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her brother looking at her with something like admiration.
Her parents glanced at each other, still dazed. And then her mother reached over and took her father by the hand.
“Well, Paolo,” she said, smiling uncertainly, “it looks as if we have another singer in the family.’’
Allegra felt like running around to the other side of the table and hugging her mother. But the battle was not yet completely over.
Her father still looked upset. “But all those years of lessons, all those hours of practicing, all that talent... !”
“Allegra’s talent will never go to waste,” Catherine insisted gently. “Let’s let her go, Paolo. Let’s let her be herself. Yes, it is a surprise. As much to me as it is to you. But you can see it is what she wants. And,” she added, nodding toward the stage, “you can see she’s good at it.”
Just then Steve came over to the table. He could see that Allegra and her family were engaged in an important discussion, and he was able to guess what it was all about. He leaned over and said, “Uh, excuse me, but it’s about time for us to get started with the second set. That is, if you’re ready,” he said, looking directly at Allegra.
Allegra didn’t move. She was staring at her father, still waiting to hear what he had to say. Her heart was pounding as she studied his face.
And then she heard him say, “She is ready.” He gestured toward the stage. “Go ahead, Allegra. Your friends are waiting for you. It is time for you to go on.’’
Allegra could feel a lump forming in her throat. “Thank you, Daddy,” she said, her voice a mere whisper.
“Just dedicate the next song to me,” he said. At first he tried to sound stern. But in the end he broke into a smile.
“Your voice is special,’’ he said. “Like your mother, you have the gift, Allegra.”
He blinked hard a few times, then said, “So go and use it!”
With that, Allegra stood up and headed back toward the stage. Now, she knew, that battle, the hard, lonely battle she had been fighting for such a long time, had finally come to an end.
* * * *
“Brava! Brava!”
The audience at the Wildwood Performing Arts Center was cheering and applauding, giving a standing ovation to the young flautist who had just given a flawless performance of Mozart’s flute concerto. Even the members of the student orchestra were clapping, the string players showing their appreciation in the traditional way: by tapping their bows on their music stands. And when Amos Derwood himself came over to Megan to shake her hand and say, “That was a marvelous performance,’’ the young musician felt as if her heart were going to burst.
The concert was over, and all the members of the Wildwood Student Orchestra were excited as they trooped backstage. There was a feeling of real triumph in the air. After all, the student musicians had played well tonight, giving their all during this performance that served as a milestone in the musical development and personal achievement of each and every one of them.
Megan felt as if she would never stop feeling so deliciously giddy as she made her way backstage amid words of praise and congratulations from her fellow orchestra members.
“Congratulations, Megan!”
“You were fantastic!”
“Way to go, Megan. You were every inch a pro tonight!”
She had never felt so high in her life. And then she spotted Allegra, waiting in the wings, wearing a big grin, and looking as if she were the cat who had just swallowed the canary.
“What a night!’’ Allegra cried, throwing her arms around her best friend as she came offstage and into the wings, flushed and looking a bit baffled, as if she weren’t sure if she were dreaming. “I only got here in time to hear the last movement, but Megan, you were fantastic! I’ve never heard you play like that! In fact, I’ve never heard anybody play like that!”
“Thank you.” Megan laughed. “I must admit, I was pretty pleased with the way it went. Oh, sure, I was nervous at first. But it didn’t take long for that to pass. And then ... But what about you? How did it go tonight? Where are your parents? Are they still speaking to you?”
Now it was Allegra’s turn to chuckle. “They were thrilled. Well, by the end of the evening, anyway. At first they were a little surprised. But who could blame them? Here they thought they had a young Jascha Heifetz on their hands!”
“Who’s Jascha Heifetz?” Tiffany asked, wandering over, her cello in hand.
“Only the greatest violinist who ever lived,” Megan replied.
“Well, I don’t know about the greatest violinist, but Megan, you have got to be the greatest flautist who ever lived! You were fantastic tonight!” Tiffany cried. “I mean, I might not know much about music ...”
“Oh, you know enough,” Megan said with a smile. “And thanks, Tiff. Hearing you say that really means a lot to me.”
“Hey, didn’t s
omebody say something about a party back at Ellis Hall?” Allegra said. “I’m so excited that I plan to stay up all night, dancing my head off.”
“Not so fast,” interrupted a male voice. “You may be up all night, but you’re going to be singing. I volunteered Pied Piper for tonight. We’re supplying the music. That is,” Steve added, “if it’s okay with you.”
“Of course. I’d love to. After all, I was born to sing!” Allegra reached over and took hold of his hand.
“Hey, did I tell you you were great tonight?” he said, leaning forward. “The audience over at the Ace of Clubs went wild. And who could blame them? I’ve never heard you sing like that before!”
“You’ve already told me that about a hundred times,” Allegra replied, winking at Tiffany and Megan, “but you can feel free to tell me a hundred times more, if you like.”
“Well, you’d better get used to it. We’ve only got a couple more weeks up here at Wildwood, but I’ve got big plans for Pied Piper once we get back to New York. It’s a good thing we all live pretty close to one another. Well, not Mike, of course, and I’m sorry about that, but we can find ourselves a new guitarist. Just as long as our famous singer sticks around!’’
“Oh, you can count on me to stick around, all right,” Allegra replied, her dark eyes burning as she gave Steve a meaningful look.
Just then Mark and Paul came wandering over.
“There they are,” said Mark with a grin. “Look at the three of them. Have you ever seen anything like it before in your life? What a trio!” He came over and slung his arm around Tiffany’s shoulders. “You’ve heard of ‘the gruesome twosome,’ right? I think I’ll start calling you three ‘the pleasing threesome.’ “
“Oh, Mark, you’re a terrible poet,” Tiffany said, pretending to be annoyed. “Sometimes I don’t know why I put up with you.”
“I do,” he shot back. “It’s because I’m so crazy about you that you simply can’t resist.’’
“Well, Mozart,” Paul said, smiling at Megan, “you really put on quite a show tonight. I’d say your future is in the bag. I expect to see your name on a poster in front of Lincoln Center very soon.’’
Going Solo Page 22