Sean and I sing our duet the best we’ve ever sung it. Maybe the best I’ve ever sung anything. For once I sound like an opera singer to my own ears, and I know that this is what I want—to be a diva, to stand onstage and make other people hear this music the way I hear it, not as something old and faded, but as something alive, forever and ever. And I’ll do anything—including telling Mom I need to spend the summer in New York and trying and auditioning and taking a chance on not making it—to get there.
Sean kisses me on the cheek when we take our bow. Then I run backstage to change for the finale and sit in the darkened wings listening to Gigi singing her solo. Gigi came back today with her leg in a cast (but scheduled to heal up) and ruined Misty’s night by saying she could do her Judy Garland number. They cut her dance routine. Instead, she’s singing a ballad. It floats backstage to where I’m sitting in the gray darkness. I’m so glad I can perform. I have a chance.
After the finale, Rowena catches me backstage. “You were incredible.”
“Thanks. I’m really happy.”
“I saw your mom in the audience. That’s great that she came.”
Now is the moment when I should pretend intense interest in makeup removal. But instead, I face Rowena. “Yeah. I wanted to talk to you about that.”
“About what?”
“About New York. I lied when I said I asked my mom and she said no. I never asked. I’m sorry.”
“What? Why not?”
“A lot of reasons. Stupid ones. Being afraid, maybe. But that’s over now, and I really want to go, and I think she’ll let me. I’ll talk to her about it this time. I promise.”
Rowena’s concerned expression has changed, and she’s staring at something behind me. I turn and realize she’s looking at Mom. “I guess we’ll find out.”
Mom is rushing toward me. She’s removed her jacket to reveal a glittery, tight T-shirt. She’s yelling, “Baby! Oh, baby, how could you not have told me about this?”
“I’m sorry,” I say. I’m apologizing to everyone today. “I’m glad you made it.”
“I got the car jump-started. And I had to ask my friend, Linda, to take over my open house. But I wouldn’t have missed it. You were so beautiful! And La Traviata.” She turns to Rowena. “That’s my very favorite opera in the world.”
I gesture toward Rowena. “Mom, you remember my voice teacher.”
Mom smiles her classic Valerie McCourt smile, the one on the real estate signs. “Of course. It’s Rowena, right?”
“Right, and…”
“Well, I have to congratulate you. You’ve done an incredible job with her. She’s improved. A lot.” I feel a flicker of annoyance. I push it aside.
Meanwhile, Rowena’s stammering, “Er…”
“When she was a little girl, she used to sing around the house all the time, and it got so I could barely think straight from all the racket. But now … you are one incredible teacher.”
Okay, more than a flicker.
“Thank you. Caitlin’s a wonderful student.”
“And may I add,” Mom says, “that you have the loveliest coloring. I can make that gray thing work for you, and if you’d like to set up an appointment, I could show you some creams that would fluff those fine lines right out.”
Okay. Way, way more than a flicker. Stop talking, Mom.
But Rowena’s still being gracious. “Maybe so. Can you come before Caitlin’s voice lesson next week, then stay and listen to her? I have been thinking I don’t devote enough effort to my beauty routine.”
“Honey, you can never be too young or too old for proper skin care. Skin is like a child. It needs nurturing. Nourishment.”
Rowena nods. “I’m so glad you phrased it that way because there’s another thing that requires nurturing. A talent like Caitlin’s needs a place where it can grow. So perhaps while we’re doing the consultation, I can tell you about an excellent summer program I’ve suggested to her. I understand she hasn’t mentioned it to you yet, but…”
They keep talking. I remove my stage makeup. They’re doing fine without me. Maybe some things about Mom aren’t as annoying to other people as they are to me. Maybe part of the reason she’s a successful sales person is she’s outgoing and charming.
“Well, it would be hard for me, being alone all summer,” Mom’s telling Rowena, and I accidentally stick a finger into my eye from the surprise. “But it sounds like a wonderful program, and I guess I’ll have to get used to it, if she’s going to go away to college soon.”
Rowena laughs. “Yeah, I’m an empty-nester myself now. This program could even help Caitlin to get a college scholarship.”
“That would be great,” Mom says. “I never finished college myself. It’s something I always regretted.”
She looks away, a little sad. I never thought of my mom as having regrets. I always assumed she got what she wanted—the guy, the house, the free ride. It never occurred to me she might have wanted to be something other than just my mom.
I think about what Miss Davis said, the day Gigi and I did the Glass Menagerie scene. Do you think Amanda ever had any dreams? I wonder if Mom did.
Opera_Grrrl’s Online Journal
Subject: Dreams
Date: December 12
Time: 9:13 a.m.
Listening 2: “O Mio Babbino Caro” (“Oh, My Beloved Daddy”) (Have you noticed that there are never any *mothers* in opera?)
Weight: 114 lbs.
When my mom was young, she wanted 2 be a fashion designer. She was going 2 regular college, but then she got a scholarship offer at a big design school in NYC. She was going 2 transfer her sophomore year. She wanted 2 go 2 Paris 2.
Then she met my dad @ a frat party. They fell in love (“As in love as you can get at a frat party .......... which apparently isn’t very,” she said). She got pregnant and dropped out of college 2 get married. I already know the rest of the story.
Anyway, we talked abt. that & then we started talking abt. my dreams, abt. how I want 2 be a singer. And now that she understands that I really *do* have talent, that I have a shot @ it, she’s actually being nice abt. it. “I just hope you don’t get your heart broken like mine. They say there’s a broken heart for every light on Broadway. Or wherever they sing opera.”
But I told her my heart might break if I *don’t* at least try. And she seemed 2 get that. We talked abt. the opera program in New York, and once she found out it wouldn’t cost a lot of $$, she said I can send an audition tape. And I can go, if I get in! And I think she actually *wants* me 2 get in!
And I think I will!!! Can you believe it???