Starring Me (20 page)
“Sorry about that,” Jim said. Kara replaced the headphones. “Let’s try that again.”
Kara’s music came through at a more reasonable volume.
I can’t believe I’m going to record a song
. Kara took a deep breath.
I can do this. I can do this
. Just as she opened her mouth to sing the first note, Jim stopped her CD.
“All right,” he said. “We’ve got the music levels where they need to be. Now for you. Count to ten right into the mic.”
Kara did as instructed. Jim turned a few more knobs and put his hand up for Kara to stop.
“Very good. We’re on a schedule now, so you’ll get one rehearsal and one recording. Got it?”
Kara’s heart hammered in her chest.
One rehearsal? What if I mess up? What if my voice cracks during the recording? What if I forget my words?
“You stand right there,” Jim said. “We’ll adjust the balance between your voice and the music. You don’t need to move.”
“No problem.” Kara laughed.
“All set?”
All right, God
.
I know I don’t talk to you much. Or ever. I don’t even know if you’re real. But if you can help me get through this without messing up, maybe we can spend some more time together
.
Kara remembered one of Addy’s comments.
“God isn’t your personal genie. He’s the creator of the universe.”
All right. Just help me. If you’re there. I’d really appreciate it
.
Kara listened to her voice coming through the headphones.
Wow, is that me? They really can do wonders in that little box. No peanut butter voice. No shaking. Awesome
.
At the end of the rehearsal, Kara felt ready to record.
“What are you doing in there?” Kara asked.
Jim furrowed his brow. “What?”
“I sound so much better in here than I do in real life.” Kara pointed to her headphones.
Jim pointed to the soundboard. “This baby is a miracle worker.”
“Now I know why singers sometimes sound so much different live than they do on their CDs.”
Jim needed a minute to get everything set for the recording, so Kara took that time to stretch and breathe.
One shot. You can do this. I think
.
With a point toward Kara, the manager started the music. She had chosen Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats.” She loved the song, and she loved that it told a story. In her rehearsals back at the house, Kara had come up with a whole background story to go along with the song: young girl right out of high school has been dating this boy since her sophomore year. They were going to get married as soon as they graduated college. They’d work a few years, then settle down and have kids and their lives would be perfect. On their three-year anniversary, they go out to a fancy restaurant and have a beautiful, romantic, candlelit dinner. Then as they walk out of the parking lot, the boy asks to run back in for a minute. Scared to be waiting outside by herself, the girl walks in to see him talking to their waitress. The waitress hands him her number with a wink and he walks out. The girl says nothing, and he drives her home. Getting into her car, she follows him to his favorite hangout, a greasy diner. He’s there. And a few minutes later, so is the waitress. And the song begins . . .
Kara imagined herself as the jilted woman. Forgetting she was singing in a studio, Kara closed her eyes and tried to “be” this girl, her song telling the story. She could see the truck, feel the baseball bat in her hand.
The song ended and Kara opened her eyes, exhilarated.
“Excellent,” Jim said. “Great choice.”
“Thank you!” Kara said, her heart racing.
“It’s interesting. Your tone and volume are almost an exact match to one of the singers we work with.”
“Really? Who?”
“Chad Beacon,” he replied. “You’ve heard of him, right? ”
“Yes. I’ve heard of him.”
And I’ll be seeing him tomorrow
.
“You guys would sound really good together.”
“Okay.” Kara smiled. “If this show doesn’t work out, maybe you could hook us up.”
Kara thought she saw a scowl pass over Jim’s features. “I’d like nothing better, sweetheart.”
Ashley walked back in, escorting Jillian. “This is Jillian, Jim.”
Jim looked up quickly, his eyes brightening. “Jillian, yes. I think we have a mutual friend.”
Kara didn’t hear any more of the conversation because she was being escorted back to the waiting room. And because she was thinking of Chad.
“You guys would sound really good together
.
”
So maybe she didn’t need to do this show. Maybe she could come back and they could record CDs and tour together.
Kara and Chad. Okay, maybe Chad and Kara. Oh yes, we could definitely make beautiful music together
.
K
ara.” Chad sat up in the hospital bed and winced. “And Addy. You guys shouldn’t have come.”
“We didn’t want to.” Kara smiled. “But Jonathon forced Addy, who forced me.”
Chad laughed. “Ouch.”
“You okay?”
“Just a cracked rib. And a bruised ego.”
“I understand that.” Kara knew Addy was referring to her stint in the hospital after being bitten on the rear by a brown recluse spider.
“But what are you doing here in Orlando?” Chad looked at Kara.
She had already decided she didn’t want to tell Chad about the show. If she told him and she didn’t make it, she’d be humiliated.
“I’m just hanging out with Addy.”
Not a lie. Just not the whole truth
.
“I wish I’d known,” Chad said. “I would have invited you over.”
“It’s not too late for that.” Kara grinned.
“Actually”—Chad took an unsteady breath—“I’ve got a thing in Phoenix at the end of the week.”
“A thing?”
“Yeah, a thing.” Chad smiled.
Perfection
. “Can you sing with a cracked rib?”
“Are you kidding? No way.” Chad held his side. “But I’m not singing for this event. I’m visiting a little boy who has leukemia. We’re just hanging out for the day. But I can’t postpone it. This little boy has been waiting for a while. And he isn’t doing well.”
Kara pictured one of her little nephews being in that position. A thought she did not want to dwell on. “So I’ve read what the blogs are saying. But what actually happened? ”
Chad closed his eyes. “What are the blogs saying? ”
Kara held up one finger. “You and Derek got into a fistfight.” Kara held up a second finger. “You got angry at a guy for singing one of your songs so you got into a fistfight with him.”
“Do they all end with me getting in a fistfight?” Chad interrupted Kara as she lifted a third finger.
“Not all.” Kara walked to the foot of the bed.
He even looks good with bruises
. “One blogger said you faked it because you’re trying to promote your new album.”
“Which isn’t out until January.”
Kara held up her hands. “Hey, you asked.”
“Forget I asked.”
“So, what really happened?”
“I got pounced on by a huge fan.”
“I did hear that story.” Kara walked closer. Only Chad Beacon could look hot in a hospital gown. “Does that happen often?”
“Girls breaking my rib? No, that was a first.”
“Crazy girls trying to get to you?”
Chad closed his eyes. “Sometimes.”
Kara looked at Addy. “Look at him, trying to be modest.”
Addy touched Chad’s arm. “The reason we’re here is because Jonathon sent us to check up on you. I have orders to report back.”
“Orders, huh?” Chad pushed the button on the bed so he could sit up. “Tell him I won’t recover until he has that talk with his dad.”
“What talk with his dad?”
“The talk about not going into politics.”
“Oh, that talk.” Addy raised her eyebrows.
“I don’t know why he’s so scared.”
Kara read the cards on the flowers by the window. “His dad is president of the United States. I’d be scared too.”
“But he doesn’t want to be president,” Chad said.
“Easy for you to say.” Kara walked back to the bed. “You’re living your dream.”
Chad’s smile melted away. “You’re right.”
“That wasn’t a criticism.” Kara looked into Chad’s hazel eyes. She hated the thought that she may have hurt his feelings.
“I know.” Chad’s gaze seemed to go straight through her. Kara couldn’t look away.
Chad cleared his throat. “I thought of you last night. I was watching TV.”
He thought of me. Last night
.
“There’s this show on called
Broadway Bound
. Have you heard of it?”
The show I should have chosen? The one I might have actually had a chance to win?
“Yeah, I think I’ve seen an episode or two.”
Or every one, sometimes twice. But whatever
.
“You seem very dramatic.” Chad smiled. “I bet you could do something like that.”
Addy looked at Kara over the hospital bed. “She definitely could.”
Kara shot a warning glance at Addy. “I don’t know.”
“But you like performing?”
Just dig that knife in a little deeper, Chad
.
Addy glared at Kara again, a “Why don’t you just tell him?” look on her face.
“Doc says you are free to go. Your brain is going to be all right,” a gray-haired nurse announced in a loud voice, pushing her tray past Addy and, thankfully, putting an end to the conversation.
“Good to know,” Chad said.
“You never know about falls. Concussions don’t always show up right away. That’s why we needed to keep you overnight for observation.”
“You sure he should go already?” Kara eyed Chad. “I heard lunch was mashed potatoes and lime Jell-O. Don’t want to miss that.”
“All right, girls,” the nurse said. “I’ve got to do some looking. You better get out so this young man doesn’t lose his dignity.”
“Right.” Chad glanced down at his hospital gown. “I’d hate to lose my dignity.”
The girls said their good-byes. Kara hoped to get some more time with Chad.
At least give him a chance to ask for my number
, she thought. But the nurse made it clear it was time for the visitors to leave.
Buckling up in Addy’s car, Kara sighed. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Really?” Addy pulled out of the parking lot.
“Not just any friend would come out to a hospital to see a hurt friend. But I’m just great that way.”
“Yes, I know it was difficult for you.”
Kara closed her eyes and thought of Chad. She could still feel his skin on hers when she patted his hand goodbye. “You have no idea.”
W
elcome back, Kara,” Flora greeted from the kitchen. Today she was wearing a vintage floral 1960s maxidress. “Did you have a good morning?”
“Very good.” The girls were given a free day, but Addy had to get back to Tampa to help a friend. So Kara decided she’d spend some time in the pool. Daydreaming about Chad Beacon.
Flora took a chicken from the refrigerator and laid it in the sink. “Now for the pot.” Flora turned faster than her dress did, and when she took a step, her leg twisted and she came crashing down on the tile floor.
“Oh no.” Kara knelt beside the housemother. “Are you okay? You fell hard.”
Flora tried to push herself onto her knees. Her dress turned into a burrito and Flora fell on her back. “It was just a minor accident. And you know what Aristotle says about accidents: ‘The ideal man bears the accidents of life with dignity and grace, making the best of circumstances.’”
Kara pushed Flora’s dress up and looked at her leg. Her ankle was already starting to swell. “This is not time for your authors, Flora. We need to get that ankle taken care of.”
“No, no. Aristotle was a philosopher.”
“Really?” Kara walked to the freezer for ice.
“Oh yes. You should have studied him by now. What is education coming to?”
“Flora, the ‘really’ was as in, ‘Really? You’re going to discuss philosophers while your ankle swells up?’” Kara wrapped the ice in a towel and laid it on Flora’s foot. “We need to get this leg propped up. Keep the ice on it. I’ll get a chair ready for you to sit in.”
“No, I’ll be fine. Go ahead out to the pool.”
Kara looked down at her bathing suit. “I’m not going to the pool when you’re hurt. Now give me your hands, but don’t put any weight on your foot. Ready?”
Kara steadied herself and helped the small woman stand and hop over to the waiting chair. Kara placed Flora’s injured ankle on the seat across from her and positioned the ice back on Flora’s foot.
“All right. Now stay there. I’m going to call my mom.”
“Why would you call your mother?” Flora asked. “I just slipped. No problem.”
“My mom’s a nurse. And your ankle looks bad. It may be broken.” Kara ran back to her room, threw a shirt and shorts on, then walked back to Flora, dialing her mother’s number as she walked.