Unfinished Symphony (15 page)

"Are you going to Sandy's party tonight?" Mel asked.
"I think so," I said.
"Good."
I opened one eye and glanced at him. He was on his side, turned toward me.
"Why don't you bring your fiddle to Sandy's tonight," he suggested.
"I didn't bring it to California," I said.
"You didn't? Why not?"
"I . . . didn't think anyone would want to hear a fiddle player," I said.
"Doesn't Jerry have a fiddle?" Mel asked Bobby. "Yeah. We'll dig it out for you. I'll bring it tonight."
"No, I'd rather not. I'm really not that good," I said. "If there is one place in the world modesty doesn't work, it's L.A.," Mel said. "Here, you're considered weird if you don't blow your own horn."
"Then I'll be considered weird," I said firmly, "because I don't."
Bobby laughed.
"She plays the fiddle, stupid," he said, "not the horn." "I bet you're good," Mel insisted. I didn't reply.
"Come on," he said poking me, "let's get wet."
He got up and dove into the water, a smooth, graceful dive that barely made a splash.
"Come on in," he said when he surfaced. "It's great." I looked at Bobby, who shrugged and said, "I took one bath already this week."
Mel treaded water and Sandy and the other girls began to splash him. He splashed back. It looked like they were having fun so I got up and sat at the edge of the pool. Mel swam over and seized my ankles.
"Come on. You won't drown. It's only five feet deep." He tugged and I went forward, falling into his arms and into the pool. The girls came to my rescue, splashing him so much he had to dive under. I joined in, but when they turned to me, their eyes widened with shock. I paused, curious.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
Sandy swam forward.
"Your suit," she said and I looked down at the top of my mother's bikini. In water the suit became transparent. I was as good as naked.
"Oh no," I wailed, wrapping my arms around my breasts.
"Just wait a minute," Sandy said and climbed out of the pool. She got my towel off the lounge and returned. I got out and she wrapped the towel around me. Everyone was looking at us, and some of the men who had arrived were shaking their heads gleefully. Even Bobby Dee was laughing at me.
Embarrassed to the bone, my face and even my body turned so red I looked like I had gotten a had sunburn.
"Thanks," I told Sandy. "It's one of my . . . moth-- my sister's suits. I didn't know it would do this," I explained. I looked at the others and then grabbed the apartment keys off the table by the lounge and fled.
When I got up to the apartment, I looked at myself in the mirror. This suit was obviously not meant for bathing, I thought. I got out of it quickly, dried off and put on my clothes. As I was drying my hair, I heard the buzzer. It was Mel, bringing the rest of my things.
"Now that was a dramatic exit," he said when I opened the door. "You're definitely an actress. You made a big first impression."
"Thanks a lot. I'd rather not have been noticed. I didn't realize that suit wasn't meant for swimming. I borrowed it from my sister's dresser drawer."
"No explanations necessary. I kind of liked it," he said, leaning in close to me.
"I wonder why," I said sarcastically, and then reached for my robe and sandals. "Thanks for bringing these."
"No problem. I'll see you at Sandy's," he said. "Dressed?"
"I'm not showing my face," I wailed.
"That's silly. Everyone understands. Something like that happens around here regularly."
"Not to me," I cried. He laughed as I closed the door. When Mommy and Richard Marlin came home, I took Mommy aside and told her what had happened.
"Oh, I haven't been down at that pool ever," she said. "Those suits are for modeling jobs. You don't want to get too much sun when you're my age. It brings out wrinkles," she explained.
"It was very embarrassing," I said and she just laughed.
"I bet it made you instantly popular with the young men around here," she said, with a tinge of jealousy in her voice.
"I'd rather not be that popular."
"Of course you would. The more men looking at you, the more important you are," she told me. "Take your time giving any one of them your individual attention. You've got years and years to go before you do what I did, chain yourself to one man."
"Is that what it was like for you, Mammy? You felt trapped all the time?"
"Yes," she confessed easily. "And please, remember, don't call me Mommy," she whispered.
Richard came out of the kitchen.
"You bought quite a bit," he said. "There's actually some real food in this house for once."
"Well, we don't have to worry about it tonight. We're going to Sandy's party," Mommy reminded him.
"I can't go, Sis. Not after what happened this afternoon."
"Nonsense, Melody."
"What happened this afternoon?" Richard asked. Mommy told him and he laughed. Then he looked at me seriously.
"I think I got you a job. I described you to this producer and he wants to see you tomorrow. After I drop Gina off at the mall, I'll take you to the studio."
"Oh Melody, that's terrific, and so fast, too. Now the girls around here will really be dying with jealousy."
"The green-eyed monster," I said nodding, recalling Mel's words.
"What?"
"Nothing. What kind of a job is it?" I asked Richard. "What do I demonstrate?"
"Don't be so smart. It happens to be an acting job," he said, "in an independent movie."
I looked at Mommy, who beamed.
"But I've never acted," I said.
"So you'll learn," Richard said. He looked around and nodded. "She did a good job with the place, didn't she, Gina?"
"Yes. Thank you, honey."
"Maybe, maybe this will work out after all," Richard said, smiling like a Cheshire cat. It was a smile that sent chills down my spine. Suddenly, I was feeling like a cornered mouse.
My little incident at the pool made me the star at Sandy's party. The moment the three of us came through the door, there was a cheer. I was
embarrassed by the attention, but thought everyone was very friendly. The party was already in full swing by the time we arrived since Mommy had taken forever to put on her makeup and decide on how she wanted to wear her hair.
"Besides," she'd told me, "in Hollywood, being on time is a sign of weakness. Always be fashionably late."
Mel had helped Sandy with the food, bringing her things that were ready-made at, the supermarket. They started with recorded music, but Bobby Dee and his band began to play as more guests arrived. The apartment wasn't much bigger than ours and it seemed to me everyone who lived in the complex was there, and it wasn't long before everyone was dancing. Even people standing and talking were moving to the rhythm of the music as they spoke. If ever fun was infectious, it was infectious here, I thought, unable to keep myself from swinging and moving to the music and laughter around me.
Almost all the conversations I heard were about auditions, parts, agents and producers. What amazed me the most was how easily everyone accepted Mommy as about their age. In her micro mini and her black tank top with her hair pulled back into a ponytail, she did look more like my sister than my mother. I understood why the lie was so easily accepted.
My thoughts were interrupted when Mel asked me to dance with him. As we spun around the room I noticed Richard had moved off to talk to two pretty women while Mommy danced with someone who called himself Stingo. He had hair as long as mine and wore two silver earrings. Mommy's laughter was soon heard over the music. Every once in a while, she glanced my way and beamed a smile. She looked happy, like someone who had been rejuvenated. Was it possible to really turn back time, to be young again?
Suddenly, Bobby's band stopped playing and he announced to the crowd that there was a new talent in their midst, a fresh, innocent voice. I had no idea who he was talking about until he produced the fiddle and called out my name. Mommy looked as surprised as I was.
"No," I said shaking. "I told you I wasn't that good."
"We'll be the judge of that," Bobby declared. "Come on, we're all bitter friends here," he added with a smile.
"Go ahead," Mel urged.
"I can't. I--"
"Just do it or he'll keep bugging you. That's Bobby."
Reluctantly, I stepped forward and everyone cheered. Mommy and Richard stood beside each other watching with interest and surprise. Although Richard looked pleased, a strange look came over Mommy's face. If I didn't know better I'd have thought she was jealous.
"This is a song an old friend taught me," I began as I took the fiddle. The crowd grew still, but I tried not to think of them and instead thought of Papa George and his pleasure whenever I played for him. "It's an old mountain folks song about a woman whose lover dies in a feud. She mourns him so much that her heart turns into a bird and flies away, up to join his soul."
Someone laughed and someone else said, "Shut up, you idiot."
I lifted the bow and began, singing softly at first and then lifting my voice and closing my eyes. When I ended, there was dead silence.
"That was great," Mel said just loud enough for everyone to hear. There were murmurs of agreement and then there was loud applause and cheers.
"Looks like you got a real good new client, Richard," Bobby shouted across the room. Richard smiled and nodded.
"Do I know talent when I see it or don't I?"
"Is that a question?" Someone shouted and there was more laughter. Bobby and his band started again and the wild, happy mood returned.
"That was very sweet," Mommy said coming up to me. "You didn't waste much time getting to know everyone and letting them know you played the fiddle."
"I didn't. It just--"
"But I really don't think that kind of music is successful in Hollywood these days, Melody, so don't get your hopes up."
"Oh, I don't expect the fiddle to make me famous. I didn't even want to play it now. I didn't come here for that."
She laughed.
"Oh, maybe you did," she said with a wink. Without another word, she grabbed the arm of a tall, dark young man and went off to dance again.
As I walked through the room everyone congratulated me on my performance and Sandy gave me a big hug.
"You're great," she declared. "You're going to make it."
"Make it? Make what?"
"Success, silly," she said before rushing off to dance. Mel stepped up beside me.
"You're a hit. No one has moved into this complex and won everyone's attention so quickly," he declared. "I'm not looking to do that."
"What are you looking for then? A job in the supermarket? I can help you get that," he teased. "Somehow, I think you want more, just like the rest of us."
"No," I insisted.
I looked around at the gathering of young hopefuls, everyone believing something wonderful would happen if only they tried hard enough. They came from all over, the East, the Midwest, northern California, each of them waiting to get their big break. It wasn't wrong to have ambition, but there was a line, a difference between ambition and false dreams, dreams that would only bring pain and
disappointment. I had no idea where the line was or who was crossing it, but I wasn't going to be one to do so, I vowed. Yet I could see how easily someone could be tempted to believe in fairy tales. I couldn't deny the compliments and encouragement had me daydreaming about being a famous musician.
Cary's words came thundering through ray memory. It's more glamorous than living in an old house and harvesting cranberries. I don't blame you.
"I'm tired," I told Mel as my thoughts came back down to earth. "I've had a big day." I flashed a smile at him and grabbed Mommy's arm as soon as she danced near me. "I'm going back to our place. I'm tired, Sis."
"Whatever," she said, barely hearing me. She was too involved in her dancing.
"Hey, it's so early," Mel said as I headed for the door.
"Jet lag, I guess," I replied shortly.
"You're going to miss a good time. Things haven't even begun yet," he coaxed, still holding onto my hand. I pulled it away gently.
"There'll be other good times," I said. "Thanks." His disappointment was written across his face.
Yeah, you're welcome. Anytime," he said turning away.
I slipped out of the party quickly and went across the hall to our apartment. Once I closed the door behind me, I let out my long-held breath. My face was flushed. The breeze coming through the window was too warm to bring any relief so I went out onto the patio and sat there, looking over the tops of the buildings at the brilliantly shining
constellations.
I wondered if Cary thousands of miles away was looking at the same stars. I missed seeing the way they sparkled over the ocean, making wishes on shooting stars as I walked along the beach. Was the ocean calm tonight? Were the waves gently lapping at the shore? As much as I wanted to hear Cary's voice, I knew it was too late to call him. Everyone was probably asleep anyway, I thought.
I heard a car alarm go off on the street in front of the complex. It sounded like a wounded animal, an injured stray dog, its high-pitched scream lasting a good two minutes before it stopped. Then, it was relatively quiet again. My eyelids drooped. I got up and got ready for bed. The moment my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.
But a few hours later, I was woken by the sound of Mommy and Richard's laughter. They came bursting into the apartment, both sounding drunk and not caring how much noise they made. Mommy shouted.
"Where's my talented little sister?" She laughed and came to my doorway. "The hit of the party. How'dya like that, Richard?"
"I love it," he called to her and she laughed again. I pretended to be dead asleep, but I opened my eyes and saw her wavering in the doorway. "Everyone thinks that was very cool, Melody . . . being a hit and then walking out of the party. Very cool. Looks like I taught you more than I thought," she said, "but just don't forget who's the teacher."
"Come on to bed, Gina."
"I'm coming."
She stood in the doorway glaring in at me. I didn't move.
"Sleep tight, Sis," she said. Then she laughed, wiped her forehead and stumbled away. I heard something fall on the floor with a crash and I heard her curse.
"Get to bed before you destroy the place and ruin all the good work your sister done," Richard teased.
Mommy cursed again and then she went into their bedroom and slammed the door. The whole apartment shook.
I heard their muffled voices through the walls, Mommy raising hers and then Richard yelling something. After that, I heard Mommy's sobs and wails. Finally, it grew quiet.
She can't be happy here, I thought. She just can't. Tomorrow, tomorrow I'll start talking to her about going back. I'll remind her about my inheritance and how we'll have money and how she could do whatever she wants if she would only stop trying to be someone she isn't.