Sit down and tell me all about it.” Pop motioned for Kara to join him at the table. “Ruthie, got some more of those meatballs? I could use a second helping.”
“Pop.” Kara watched as her mother spooned several meatballs onto her father’s plate. “You know the doctor said you need to be careful with your cholesterol. Why don’t you have some salad? Or some fruit? We picked up a huge watermelon today at the market.”
“Let me see. Watermelon or meatballs?” Pop scratched his head. “I think I’ll take meatballs.”
“And your cholesterol?”
“I’ll have the watermelon for dessert,” Pop said. “Then it’ll all be even.”
“All right, Pop. Whatever you say.”
“That’s more like it. Now, tell me about the auditions.”
“They were long.” Ma sat down with her plate of pasta.
“That, I know,” Pop said. “You two didn’t come in until, what, midnight?”
“We didn’t pull out of that studio until ten o’clock,” Ma said. “And even then, the traffic coming back into Long Island was awful. I hate driving in the city.”
Kara leaned forward. “I told you I’d drive, Ma.”
“You were asleep before we even crossed the Brooklyn Bridge.” She shook a plump finger in Kara’s direction.
“I would have stayed awake if you’d let me drive.” Kara smiled.
“All right, ladies. The auditions?”
“They were so fun, Pop.” Kara stood up from the table. “I got to read a script with another girl. There were so many girls there. I was able to memorize all my lines before my turn came.”
“I think I had the whole thing memorized too.” Ma laughed. “The And and the But and the crying. It was all pretty silly. But our Kara was great. She even cried real tears. Real tears, Ralph.”
“I thought this was a comedy show,” Pop said between bites of meatballs.
“It is.” Kara sat back down. “The crying was supposed to be funny.”
“It was too,” Ma said. “Kara stuffed her whole sleeve with tissues, and she kept pulling them out and blowing her nose, then throwing them behind her.”
“The directors were even laughing, and you know they saw that same skit dozens of times.”
“Of course they liked it.” Pop patted Kara’s head. “You’re the best actress in the world.”
“She really is, Ralph. I had lotsa those agents coming up, wanting Kara.” Ma said the word agent like it was a communicable disease.
“I don’t see what the problem is, Ruthie. We got a girl with loads of talent—she should have someone helping her. What do we know about show business? Nuttin’. I know how to teach math and you know how to make meatballs. So why not get some help from someone who knows this stuff?”
“Thank you, Pop.” Kara hugged her father. “See, Ma? ”
Her mother grabbed her plate and slammed it into the sink. “I know more than meatballs, Ralph McKormick. I know agents want to make money off talented little girls, and I won’t let them get their paws on my Kara.”
“All right, Ruthie.” Pop joined his wife at the sink, hands on her hips. “There’s no better mama in the world than you. If you think Kara doesn’t need an agent, then Kara doesn’t need an agent.”
“Thank you.” She accepted his embrace.
“Don’t I get a say in this?” Kara asked, her heart sinking.
Pop shot Kara a sly grin. “You want to go against your mother’s wishes? Break her fragile little heart?”
Kara opened her mouth to answer right as the phone rang. “I’ll get that. Hello?”
“Kara, it’s Addy. I wanted to find out how the auditions went. Is this a good time?”
“Perfect.” Kara walked into her room and shut the door. “They were amazing. I think the directors liked me.”
“So, how soon until you’re in Florida?”
“Awhile,” Kara said. “I’ll find out this week if I made callbacks, but I don’t know how long after that until they make the decision.”
“They would be crazy not to pick you, Kara.”
“Crazy in show business is not uncommon.”
Addy laughed. “True. Maybe I should rephrase. You are so incredibly talented that the directors will have no choice but to pick you.”
Her laugh made Kara smile. “Yes, much better. Go on.”
“Seriously, Kara, don’t worry. It’ll all work out.”
She looked around her room. Pictures of her in various school and community theater productions filled her shelves. Reminders of how much she loved acting and how desperately she wanted to get this part. “Oh, Addy. I wish you were here. I’m so nervous. You always make me feel calm.”
“I wish I could be there too. Not even for you. I just want some more of your mom’s sweet rolls.”
“Thanks, Addy.” Kara threw herself down on her bed. “I feel so loved. Come on, we’re talking about me here.”
“Forgive me for interrupting.” Addy laughed again.
“I really would like you to come up if I make callbacks. Ma won’t let me get an agent, and there’s no way she’s going to want to go to another audition with me.”
“Actually, Jonathon invited me to the White House for a few days,” Addy said. “Uncle Mike said it was fine for me to go. But I’m nervous about going there alone.”
“You’re nervous about seeing a boy who is head over heels in love with you?”
“Kara,” Addy groaned.
“Oh, don’t get all ‘but we’re just friends’ on me. I watched this romance from the beginning, remember?”
“I am not having this conversation.”
“You don’t need to.” Kara rolled over to her stomach. “Because we both know it’s true. Besides, he invited you to the White House. I’d like to think Jonathon and I are friends too. But I didn’t get an invite.”
“You know how much it scares me to be around a lot of people, and the White House is crawling with people.” Addy made a squeaking sound, and Kara could hear her clap. “I have a great idea. How about if I ask Uncle Mike if I could come to New York first? That way I could come with you to the auditions?”
“Keep talking.”
“And then you ask your parents if you could come to the White House with me? You could be like my conversational bodyguard.”
Kara laughed loudly into the phone. “I love it. Conversing with White House staff so you can have time with Jonathon. It’s a deal. I just need to make sure Ma and Pop are okay with it.”
“All right, then. I’ll check with Uncle Mike about coming up to New York.”
“But I don’t even know if I’ll make callbacks yet.”
“You’ll make it.”
Kara pressed the End button on her phone. “I hope you’re right, Addy.”