Do you have kids?”
The question must surprise Arnold because his eyes don’t immediately head for my chest, the way they usually do. But I’m wearing a sweatshirt.
“Oh … Cathy … I was just leaving. I thought you were in the house.”
“I was getting something from the car.” Actually, I’ve been waiting for him for the past half hour. But he didn’t hear me go outside because he was busy at the time. (“Yeah. Getting busy,” Gigi would say.) “So, do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Have kids?”
“Oh.” Arnold still doesn’t look at me. “No. I mean, I did, but they…”
“Died?”
He laughs. “No. They grew up. My daughter Alicia’s at U.F. She’s studying to be a music teacher. And my other daughter Melanie is in med school.”
He looks at his car parked at the end of our driveway, probably trying to figure the odds if he made a run for it. He doesn’t say any of the usual things adults say when they talk about their kids—like how his daughter would like me because we’re both into music. He probably doesn’t expect us to ever meet. The way I figure it is, best-case scenario, I end up with two steps who hate me because my evil mom stole their dad. Worst-case scenario: Mom gets dumped. Or maybe it’ll be the other way around.
Arnold looks at his watch, then at the car again. “I have to go. It was nice talking to you, Cathy.”
And he walks away—very quickly.
“Not just married,” I tell Gigi the next day. “He has kids. Can you believe it?”
“Who?” We’re standing in the hallway before school starts because Miss Davis said she’d put up the cast list this morning. Gigi’s here to see what she’s doing in the show. Me, I’m here for moral support. We’ve gotten a good spot near the front so people are pushing against us.
“Who?” I say. “Dr. Toe-Jam, that’s who. Mom’s boyfriend. He’s married and has daughters in college—little Toe-Jams. Mom’s a home-wrecker.”
“Watch it!” Gigi elbows a guy who’s pushing her. “Probably not. Usually men with a honey on the side never actually leave their wives.”
“That’s what Dear Abby says.”
“Yeah, that’s where I got it. Plus, my mom’s guy dropped her like the proverbial potato when his wife found out. Your mom’s guy probably will too.”
“That’s comforting.”
“Well, maybe…”
But I don’t get to hear the rest of Gigi’s thought because that’s when Miss Davis stumbles in, holding something that looks suspiciously like a cast list. You’d think a bunch of theater students would show more control than football players waiting for the starting lineup to be posted. You’d think that, but you’d be wrong. They rush at her shouting, “Miss Davis, did my number get chosen?” (She ignores this.) Since I know I didn’t make it, I give up my spot by Gigi because I can give her moral support from a quiet corner near my locker. What was I thinking, singing that song? What possessed me? Did I not want to make it?
But I know what possessed me. Misty did. She wanted me to fail, but I was pretty clueless to go along with her.
And Misty, did she do something “jazzy” after telling me to? She did not. She sang “Popular” from Wicked, which would have been perfect from her, if only she could have sung it well. She did a duet with Sean too, and I tried to ignore the creeping tentacles of jealousy, reaching up my back.
The cluster around the cast list becomes a living thing, screaming and moaning. I start to slink off toward class.
“Caitlin!” Gigi’s calling me from the screaming, jumping group.
“Catch you later!” I wave. I didn’t realize I was upset until now. I’d rather wallow in private. I walk away. A hand grabs my wrist—a hand with black fingernails. Gigi. She drags me toward the mob around the cast list.
“Let go of me!” I protest. “I’m happy for you, but I’ve got—”
“Good news and bad news, girl.”
She drags me through the subsiding crowd and places one black fingernail on the yellow page. I look at the spot where she’s pointing. It says:
AN OPERATIC DUET TBA ................... CAITLIN MCCOURT AND SEAN GRIFFIN
“Good news and bad news, girl,” Gigi repeats.
Opera_Grrrl’s Online Journal
Subject: Good News/Bad News—Again
Date: September 22
Time: 9:33 p.m.
Listening 2: Cecilia Bartoli, Mozart arias
Feeling: Surprised
Weight: 117 lbs.
The good news is: I get 2 sing in the show even though I tanked, tanked, tanked at audition. The bad news is: I have 2 sing w/Sean.
Explanation: I thought Sean was reeeeeeally nice (and cute!) when we 1st met. But ever since the day w/La Traviata, he hasn’t even talked 2 me. He just hangs w/his friends ...... esp. the evil Barnacle Girl ....... so I guess he doesn’t think I’m as good as wonderful him. Oh, well.
When I saw Rowena, I asked her why—O, why—she put us together.
She let me know the faculty wasn’t exactly thrilled w/my audition (thx, Misty) but that she told them I’d done really well w/La Traviata (!) “You 2 sound good together .......... it’ll be great.”
Great. She gave me Sean’s phone # and suggested I call 2 talk abt. our duet. I left a message on his ans. machine hours ago, and he hasn’t called back.
Also on the upside (the 2nd good news, I guess): Misty didn’t get a solo @ all! She has some solo lines in group #’s and that is IT!
I think I understand the term “poetic justice” now.