Christmas All Around Us ; The Perfect Time for Love ; Playing for Keeps

by Carla Kincaid

  "Tony, she plays classical music," Stacey objected. "I'm not auditioning for the Met! I need someone who understands Broadway sound."

  "It seems to me you should be grateful for anyone who can play more than Twinkle Twinkle," her friend corrected.

  Tony was right, Stacey thought coming to her senses. She couldn't afford to be picky when the audition was in less than two hours.

  She hung up the phone, threw on her clothes and rushed downstairs. She knew Megan was home because she'd just heard her playing the piano less than twenty minutes ago. When she made it down to Megan's door she knocked loudly. As soon as the door opened Stacey blurted out her request without taking a breath.

  "My accompanist is stuck on the Number 2 train and I need someone to play for my audition in an hour! Can you please help me?"

  "Do you have sheet music?" Megan asked calmly.

  Stacey nodded yes and handed the score to Megan.

  "Well then, let's go get that part!" Megan said excitedly.

  Stacey called a rideshare and thirty minutes later she and Megan were on their way to the audition location in lower Manhattan.

  "I think this part here is meant to be played up-tempo," Stacey said as she leaned close to Megan in the back seat of the small rideshare vehicle. She pointed to a particular part in the sheet music that she'd been having trouble with but Megan just brushed her hand away.

  "Shhhh," was her only response. Stacey had no choice but to settle back in her seat, put her earbuds in and listen to the recording Ron made a few days ago.

  I hope I'm not making a mistake, she texted in a message to Tony. But it wasn't like she had a choice. Ron had just sent her a message letting her know he was still stuck on his train. Stacey glanced over at Megan -- the woman who now held her career dreams in her hands. She was hovered over the sheet music, moving her fingers over an invisible piano. As nervous as Stacey was she couldn't help but notice how pretty Megan looked. The intensity she'd always imagined being present when Megan played was shining through brightly.

  "Okay," Megan declared as they pulled up in front of the building where the audition was being held.

  "Okay?" Stacey repeated nervously.

  Megan nodded and a confident smile spread across her face.

  "Alright, Ms. Taylor. What are you going to sing for us this afternoon," the casting director asked.

  She was sitting behind a long table with a man and woman she'd introduced as the producers of the upcoming show.

  "I'm going to do What More Do I Need from Sondheim's Saturday Night," she answered trying to mask the nervousness in her voice.

  The woman nodded at her and Stacey turned and nodded at Megan who began to play. Stacey closed her eyes and took a deep breath. For a moment it actually sounded like Ron playing a few feet away. All of the feelings and emotions of the song were perfect. Stacey was easily able to meld with the music and sing her heart out.

  "Thank you, Stacey," the female producer said. "Now let's move on to the scene."

  Stacey nodded to Megan letting her know she could leave the room. As she watched her last-minute accompanist exit all she could feel was gratitude.

  "So, how did it go?" Megan asked when Stacey walked out of the audition room fifteen minutes later.

  "I think it went pretty well," Stacey said. "And your accompaniment was perfect! I can't even begin to thank you for this. Please let me take you to lunch."

  Megan looked like she was about to say no.

  "Come on," Stacey implored. "A girl has to eat."

  "Okay. Maybe just a slice of pizza on the way home," Megan agreed. "And then I need to get back to my piano. I've got my own audition -- tomorrow," she said with a smile.

  "Oh my goodness! Megan! I didn't know your audition was tomorrow!" Stacey felt a wave of guilt wash over her. "I'm so sorry for pulling you away from your practice time. Please forgive me for being so selfish."

  "It's totally fine," Megan said. "I'm glad you asked me for help. And honestly, the experience was totally worth it. I've never been to a professional audition before and I need to pick your brain to figure out how you stay so calm standing in front of a table full of strangers."

  Stacey laughed. "Well, part of it was acting," she said with a flourish of her hand. "I'll tell you more over a slice."

  Stacey and Megan walked over to a pizza place a block away and ordered two slices to go. Then they walked down the street toward the subway munching and talking.

  "That really was incredible," Megan said again. "I would have been a nervous wreck! How often do you have to go through that?"

  Stacey let out a big laugh. "At least two or three times a week if I'm lucky. But this audition was kind of special because they requested I come in after seeing the workshop I just did. And, to be honest I was a little nervous this time."

  Megan glanced over at her with a surprised look on her face.

  "I was nervous because I didn't know if you were going to play the song right," Stacey admitted. She hunched her shoulders as she shared her confession. "But you played the piece exactly how Ron would have and it made it super easy to sing."

  Megan let out a laugh. "What's wrong? Were you afraid all I could play is dull classical stuff?"

  "Hey, can you blame me?" Stacey said playfully defending herself. "It's the only thing I ever hear coming through my floor. I'm mean... Not that I think it's dull..."

  "No need to apologize," Megan said with a smile. "I'm just flattered that you trusted me enough to accompany you anyway. Even if I was your only hope."

  The two women laughed.

  "So, what are we going to do to help you get over your audition fright?" Stacey asked as she tossed the now empty paper plate into a nearby trash can. "Maybe I can share some relaxation exercises that might help."

  Megan let out a long sigh. "I'm willing to try but I don't know if there's anything that will help. I've been this way most of my life. I'm fine playing in front of an audience but there's something about an audition that just makes me a nervous wreck. I guess it's the potential rejection," Megan said sadly. "Sitting there with those judgmental eyes reminds me of how my mother used to look at me when I talked about becoming a professional musician."

  "Your mother didn't want you to play the piano?" Stacey asked.

  "She didn't want me to play any instrument," Megan said with a sad chuckle. "But I don't really hold it against her. She and my dad split up because he was more passionate about playing his trumpet than he was about earning enough money to take care of his family. They divorced when I was three and six months later he was killed in a car accident while driving home from a late-night gig."

  "Oh, Megan. I'm so sorry!" Stacey exclaimed. She hadn't meant to bring up sad memories with her inquisitive question.

  "It's okay," Megan said with a shrug. "I was so young that I don't really remember him. My mom remarried her current husband about a year later and he's the only father I've ever really known."

  "What about the rest of your family? Are they supportive of your music?"

  "Of course my grandmother was, and my sister is -- in her own way. My step-dad, well he goes along with whatever my mom says." Megan rolled her eyes. "He told me he used to hope I'd follow in his footsteps and take over his dental practice," she said with a laugh.

  She shook her head in disbelief and Stacey let out a snort.

  "I'm sorry. It's just a little hard to imagine you with those fingers in someone's mouth all day."

  "I know. Right!" Megan said wiggling her fingers in the air.

  "So is that why you haven't pursued piano as a career before now?"

  Megan blushed. "Not exactly," she confessed. "You see there was this woman..."

  Stacey shook her head. "Oh! Don't the best stories always start that way?" she laughed. "Once upon a time there was this woman and then tragedy struck!"

  Stacey pretended to stubble and then grabbed a light pole to keep herself erect. At first, she was laughing but then she suddenly got serious.
<
br />   "Look, Megan. I'm sorry you haven't gotten the support from your mom that you wanted. And I don't know what happened with the woman but I do know you have a wonderful gift and based on what I've been listening to for the past several weeks, you're gonna do great at your audition!"

  Chapter 10

  When Megan and Stacey got back to their apartment building it took all Megan had not to invite Stacey in to continue their conversation. She was still floating from both the experience of helping Stacey with her audition and Stacey's comments about Megan's talent. It was really nice to get that kind of encouragement. And her brief mention of Renee -- although not by name -- made Megan wonder what it would be like to have that kind of support in a relationship.

  Don't get ahead of yourself, Megan warned herself as her daydreams threatened to capture all of her attention. She had to stay focused. Tomorrow was going to be a big day, she thought as she forced herself back to her piano for a few more hours of practice.

  The next morning, Megan got off the train at 66th St. and followed the signs directing her to the Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts. She purposefully hadn't visited this location before now. She didn't think her heart would be able to handle the excitement. Even now, her pulse was racing as she walked down Broadway, veered right on Columbus Ave. and stopped in front of the iconic water fountain that sat in the middle of the Center's plaza.

  To her left, was the home of the Metropolitan Opera. The five tall arched windows made the building look more like a cathedral than a performing arts space. Straight ahead, she could see the home of the New York Ballet. Megan took a deep breath and closed her eyes before turning her head to the right. When she opened her eyes again she was staring at a building she'd fantasized about for years.

  "New York Philharmonic," she read from the large red flag attached to the edge of the building.

  Megan's stomach flipped and she felt a swoosh of heat surge from head to toe. For a moment she was paralyzed in place but after a few deep breaths, she squared her shoulders and headed for the imposing glass doors.

  Megan took the escalator to the second-floor lobby and then went into the bathroom to change her clothes. She had no idea how many pianists had submitted videos for the preliminary auditions six months ago but she knew there were thirty open slots for the two-day semi-finals. This was the second day, Megan thought as she walked back out to the lobby and discreetly scanned the area for signs of her competition. The candidates had been booked in twenty-minute increments throughout the day and if they were like her they'd arrived well before their assigned audition time.

  Megan's eyes fell on a young man sitting on a bench near the gigantic wall of windows. His back was to Megan but she could tell he wasn't enjoying the view of the fountain below. The slight sway of his shoulders gave it away. He was practicing in his head just as Megan often did when she was sitting alone somewhere. She couldn't see his hands but Megan knew if she stepped close enough to see his fingers hovering in mid-air she could probably figure out what piece he was practicing by simply following his hands on the invisible piano in his lap. But she didn't have time for that.

  In her coat pocket she held a letter identifying her as candidate number 21.

  "I.D. please," a uniformed greeter asked as Megan stepped up to the small table set up in front of the theatre doors.

  She handed the woman her driver's license and watched as the attendant scanned a list of names.

  "Thank you, Ms. Green," she said. "If you'd like to go in now we have a spot open earlier than your assigned audition time."

  Megan looked back at the woman with surprise.

  "The person scheduled in this time slot didn't show up," the woman offered as an explanation. "Got nervous I guess." The look on her face made it clear that she understood how much of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity this was. It wasn't something you just didn't show up for no matter how bad your nerves were.

  "They're waiting inside," she continued as if she could see Megan wrestling with the fight or flight adrenaline surging through her body.

  Megan looked up at the theatre doors and nodded her head slowly. You can do this, she thought silently. She forced herself to move one foot in front of the other until she reached the ornate double doors leading into the theatre. When she pushed the doors open and stepped inside she almost lost her nerve again. The venue was magnificent.

  From the back of the theatre, Megan peered down the aisle to the stage that seemed almost a football field's length away.

  "This way," a young man waved to her from several rows ahead.

  Megan took a tentative step forward wondering if her legs were going to carry her the distance. When she reached him he gave her a friendly smile and took the packet she'd received at the registration table.

  "You're almost there," he said encouragingly as he motioned her toward the steps leading to the stage.

  His was the last friendly face she saw. From the stage, Megan looked out into the vast auditorium of seats. Positioned a few rows from the front were four sour-faced judges. She watched as the young man handed the folder to the judge on the end.

  "Welcome, Ms. Green," the judge said reading Megan's name from the label on the packet.

  The woman had an uncanny resemblance to the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz. Her face was pale and stern and her hair was pulled up on top of her head in a bun so tight it almost gave Megan a headache.

  "What are you going to begin with?" the woman asked as she handed tally sheets to the other judges at the table.

  Megan's heart was pounding in her ears. She swallowed trying to find her voice in spite of her mouth feeling like it was full of cotton balls.

  "Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto #2," Megan croaked. Good thing she wasn't being judged on her voice.

  She walked over to the piano and sat down. Before lifting her hands to the keys Megan thought about a breathing exercise Stacey recommended when they were talking yesterday. Inhale, two, three, four. Exhale, two, three, four the image of Stacey said. Megan wasn't sure if it was the breathing or imagining Stacey sitting in front of her but either way she felt calm enough to begin.

  When her fingers touched the keys they felt as cold as ice but Megan pushed through the piece. When she finished she thought that it had gone pretty well until she looked down at the judges. All four still wore stone-faced expressions.

  "And your next selection," the male judge in the center asked. The tone of his voice was filled with doubt and disinterest.

  That's when the voices in Megan's head started.

  "You're too old for this."

  "You don't play well enough to compete at this level."

  "You were a fool to leave a steady job with promotion potential to follow some pipe dream of being a concert pianist!"

  Megan could feel a wave of doubt begin to wash over her. Just as she felt it about to pull her under another voice broke through the chaos.

  "You've got this!" she heard Stacey declare in that carefree manner she had. "I believe in you!"

  The sound of Stacey's voice silenced the others.

  "You've got this," Megan repeated softly and then lowered her fingers to the piano.

  It helped that this particular piece reminded her of Stacey. It was light and airy. One could mistake it for frivolous but there was an underlying depth to it that surprised the listener. As Megan played the music became like a soundtrack to all the encounters she'd had with Stacey since they met. With musical accompaniment, even their first interaction became more pleasant.