| |
1
For the next two days, Amberlin acted as their tour guide even though she knew as little about the area as the rest of them. With a stack of brochures in hand, she guided them through the streets and boroughs of Boston. She even dipped into their meager savings so they could enjoy some of the local cuisines. During their two days, they sampled Boston cream pie, Sam Adams beer, and even some Boston baked beans. They visited Paul Revere's House, the Old North Church, and Faneuil Hall Marketplace then hung out for hours at Boston's fifty-acre urban park known by the locals as the Boston Common where British troops were reportedly hosted during the American Revolution.
As the days passed, Amberlin continued to notice Ben and Hannah spent a lot of time together, often flirting and joking with each other. She was appalled by how much her jealousy continued to grow, but what could she say? Even Spooks didn't seem to mind their playful antics. She was happy when their big night finally arrived, and she could focus on the music and try to make a good impression on Al Grossman.
They were only allowed enough time to sing two songs. Everyone agreed that one of them needed to be Kingston Trio’s song about the MTA, but the second song was up for debate; a debate that quickly turned into an argument between Ben and Hannah.
“The MTA song is a good one to start with because the local crowd will get into it. But we need to keep the second song upbeat as well,” Hannah insisted.
“No, we need to show Grossman our range," Ben countered. "I say we follow up with a tear-jerker, something like Your Mama's Eyes."
“That’ll have everyone crying in their beer.”
“So, what’s wrong with that? It’ll show how we can move a crowd from laughter to tears.”
“But if we keep the mood light and fun loving, it’ll prove we can keep them coming back for more.”
“Well, sorry, but you’re just the percussion section. I’m going to have to overrule you on this one,” Ben replied and started to walk away.
“Oh, so that’s how it is?” Hannah all but screamed as she reached out and grabbed him by the arm and swung him around.
“Hey, hands off the merchandise.” Ben pulled his arm away angrily.
“Enough, you two," Amberlin finally said. "You both have valid points. We could go in either direction, and we'd be fine. So, here's what we're going to do. We'll start with the MTA song and then follow up with ‘Turn, Turn Turn.’”
“What?” Ben and Hannah asked at the same time. “Why that song?” Ben continued.
“Because I like it,” Amberlin replied and walked off, leaving her two friends staring at each other.
Finally, Ben shrugged and nodded to Hannah. “What she says goes. Let’s go wow some people.”
––––––––
2
AND WOW THEM THEY DID. The crowd of mostly Bostonians loved the MTA song and sang along with the chorus, then drew respectfully quiet as Amberlin sang Turn, Turn, Turn accompanied by Ben’s acoustic guitar and Hannah’s tambourine. Amberlin’s clear, melodic voice cut through the silence with the last line: “A time for peace, I swear it’s not too late.”
A hush continued for several seconds as Ben, Hannah and Amberlin looked at each other. Had they blown it after all? Then the crowd burst out in applause, as many in the audience leaped to the feet with whistles and cat calls. The three musicians broke out in smiles and sighs of relief before exiting the stage despite several calls for an encore.
“Wow, I’m sure glad that’s over,” Amberlin said as she turned to the others. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous.”
“It sure didn’t show,” Ben replied.
“Not at all,” Hannah agreed. “You were marvelous. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sing better.”
Spooks rushed up to the three of them and hugged them all. “You were wonderful. You had the crowd eating out of your hands. If that Grossman fellow doesn’t sign you, he’s tone deaf and an idiot.”
“Hush, mom,” Amberlin warned, though she was laughing at the same time. “We don’t know where he’s sitting. He could be any one of these people around us.”
“Not likely," Spooks replied. "Bigwigs like him sit at some large table in the back with his entourage around him."
“How would you know?” Ben asked, chuckling as well.
“I’ve seen it in movies,” Spooks replied with a smile.
“Excuse me, Miss,” one of the barmaids said as she tapped Amberlin on the arm. “I have a message from Mr. Grossman. He’d like for you to join him at his table over there.” She pointed to the back of the room.
“See, I told you,” Spooks said with a smirk.
The four of them started to follow the young girl who then stopped to look at them with an embarrassed look on her face. “I’m sorry. Mr. Grossman was very explicit with his directions. “The invitation was extended only to you,” she said as she pointed to Amberlin. “The rest of you can wait over there at the bar if you like.”
––––––––
3
A WEEK AFTER CALLING the number in the letter and leaving a message that they happily accepted Hearst’s invitation, Missy received a call back informing them that a limousine would pick them up the following week on the day of the event, and they’d be driven the six hours to the San Simeon estate.
“Lunch will be served during your travels,” Hearst’s English sounding assistant informed her. Do you have any particular dietary needs that I should know about?”
Dietary needs? Missy thought, perplexed by the question. “Well, Rev. Stover enjoys a good steak from time to time.”
“Filet, sirloin, or ribeye?" the man replied without hesitation.
“Oh, well, huh, ribeye, I guess,” she replied. I think I’m going to enjoy this mini-vacation, she thought.
“How would Rev. Stover like it cooked?”
“Medium rare,” Missy replied, though it had been so long since they’d had steak, she wasn’t sure that was her husband’s preference.
“And for you, Madame?”
“Oh, I’ll have the same...a little more well done I suppose.” That way, if medium rare proved not to her husband’s satisfaction, she could share her steak with him.
“Very well, and would a baked potato and Caesar salad be to your liking?”
“Oh yes, very nice,” Missy answered.
“And do you and your husband partake of wine on occasions? We have some fine Bordeaux that would go well with the menu.”
“Yes, yes. I’ll leave that to your discretion.”
“Very well,” the man replied. “Your car will arrive no later than ten o’clock. You have the number if you need to reach me for any reason.”