Chapter Six
Six
Charlie
It’s honestly a nightmare, Charlie texted Alicia. What the hell do either of us know about directing a choir?
You know about singing. That’s a good start.
You sound like Gram. And you both know it’s not the same thing. The only person Charlie had ever known who would be remotely interested in this turn of events was Tom. And even he might have questioned how to turn a random group of elderly residents into a passable choir before Christmas.
But your experience is not nothing. Plus it’s not like they know any better. I say, trust your instincts and see what comes of it.
My instincts were too slow to realize Julian was roping me into disaster. I’m not sure I can trust them. Also, you’re being unhelpfully optimistic.
I just like the fact that I’ll get more updates on how you hate the ridiculously handsome activities director.
Charlie frowned at her phone.
He’s just ridiculous. This idea is ridiculous! And he’s a scheming cheat for using a bunch of cute old people and Gram against me
Mm-hmm. Maybe he just wants to spend more time with you. Ever think of that?
Huffing, Charlie flipped her phone over even as her stomach fluttered. It was like a dusty, dormant moth had been startled in a corner. Choosing to ignore the feeling, she glanced around the common room.
She was seated next to the fireplace, in one of the wingback armchairs across from Gram.
Two great bookcases framed the far wall, well-worn tomes lined up in a colorful display.
Around the room, an array of small tables boasted half-completed chess games and abandoned solitaire.
The room was suspiciously devoid of garland and twinkle lights, but outside a winter wind battered at the windows, leaving snowflakes to melt down the panes.
It was the kind of day that made Charlie want to pull one of the books from the shelves and tuck herself beneath a blanket.
Instead, she had her laptop open on her knees, scrolling through her old set lists with Gram as they prepared for today’s auditions.
Charlie had shown up bright and early at Gram’s request so they could go over her song selection.
She’d made a point of telling Gram she didn’t have to try so hard.
The whole reason she’d agreed to this with Julian was to allow Gram to make connections, so her being part of the choir was sort of nonnegotiable.
But Gram was nothing if not dedicated to the shtick, and she was taking this audition very seriously.
“How about that one?” Gram said, pointing to the screen.
“‘Ten Minutes Ago’? From Cinderella?” Charlie frowned.
“That’s usually a duet.” She considered her previous performances and the occasional tune that Tom would join her for while onstage.
She remembered him turning from the orchestra and grabbing a mic, smiling at her as they performed duets the way they had as children in Gram’s living room.
“I suppose you could just sing a few bars.”
Gram hummed the song, and Charlie mentally batted at the memories that were conjured with the first few notes.
“You really don’t have to audition,” she said again, making sure that was clear. “Besides the fact you’ve volunteered to play piano, I already know you can sing. Plus I’m confident Julian really wants you in the choir.”
She hadn’t actually seen Julian yet this morning.
Perhaps she should have dropped by his office to figure out the logistics of how this audition process was going to work, but truthfully she was still annoyed with him for forcing her into yet another thing she wanted no part of.
How was she supposed to turn him down in front of a room full of elderly people, all looking at her, their faces creased with excitement?
She was becoming far too entrenched in the happenings at Glendale for her liking.
“What about you?” Gram asked.
“What about me?”
“Do you want me in this choir?”
“Obviously.”
“You don’t seem too thrilled by the idea.”
“It’s not that,” Charlie said, feeling a little bad that Gram would think so.
She sighed. “I’m just not sure I’m thrilled in general.
It has nothing to do with not wanting you to be a part of it.
” This was Gram’s chance to really build community here.
If Charlie couldn’t shake her annoyance, she was going to ruin it for her. “I guess I’m just nervous.”
“You, nervous?” Gram said with a smile. She patted Charlie’s knee. When she was young and worried about performing, Gram would pat her arms or her shoulders, telling her she was getting all the butterflies out.
“I’ve never done something like this before. And there’s a big prize on the line that Julian is really eager to win so he can support the music program. That’s a lot of pressure when I’m not even sure we’ll be able to cobble together a choir, never mind thinking about the actual performance.”
Gram reached for her hand and squeezed. “I have no doubt you’ll do wonderfully.”
Charlie shook her head. “You say that about everything.”
“I have to. Until you prove me otherwise.”
Charlie smiled a little. Gram had always had far too much faith in her talent—maybe more than she deserved.
She just didn’t want to ruin this opportunity for Glendale.
Part of her also didn’t want to fall short of Julian’s expectations.
Though why she cared what he thought was beyond her.
This was the man who couldn’t be bothered to remember her name.
She didn’t owe him anything. Not her time or her mental energy or the space in her dreams where he’d annoyingly been cropping up each night.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to properly audition for anything,” Gram mused.
“I wouldn’t say this is a proper audition.”
“Still, it’s kind of exciting. Takes me back to my youth.”
Charlie scrolled down her song list. “Speaking of things from your youth. Something from The Sound of Music could be a good option.” Gram needled her side, and Charlie chuckled. “I’m sure most of this crowd is going to go with the classics.”
“Because we have excellent taste at our age.”
“Of course. Also, you never told me if you wanted to keep the old bookshelves in the sitting room or if you wanted me to donate them.”
“That’s real wood, you know.”
“You’ve said.”
“They just don’t make furniture like they used to.”
“You’ve also said that.”
“I wonder if your parents could make room for them in their place. I’d hate to let them go.”
Charlie doubted it. After Tom passed, they’d accumulated a lot of his things. “Maybe. I’ll leave a note for them to think about it.”
“All right, I’ve decided,” Gram said. “I’ll sing ‘My Favorite Things.’”
“Good choice.” Charlie brought up the lyrics and handed her laptop to Gram so she could review them, though she doubted she needed it. Charlie had worn out Gram’s VHS copy of The Sound of Music when she was eleven. She imagined those songs were permanently etched into both their brains.
“I think this volunteer gig has been really good for you so far,” Gram noted.
Charlie gave a noncommittal grunt. Sure, there’d been a few moments when she’d actually caught herself enjoying her music room performances, but the guilt that ate at her afterward had burned raw in her chest. So they would have to agree to disagree about that.
Falling for this music program and for old flames and for the world she used to share with Tom was never going to work.
She would always be drowning in the memories.
“I received an email from Alicia,” Charlie said, trying to shift the subject away from Glendale.
“About a job?”
“An audition.”
“Well, that’s good,” Gram said. “That’s something.”
Charlie avoided her eye. Because even though Alicia had done exactly what Charlie had asked and sent through some potential work opportunities, she hadn’t even bothered to look at them. Each email remained in her inbox, unread.
“Anything of interest?” Gram asked.
“A few I might explore,” she lied. “Maybe I’ll look at going out for a tour audition.”
“Oh, your parents and I could fly out somewhere fun to come see you.”
Charlie swallowed hard. She felt guilty for performing.
She felt bad for not performing. She didn’t know what the right answer was anymore.
Goose bumps prickled on her arms, and she willed away the sensation.
She just needed to lock it all away until she was finished with Gram and Glendale and Elm Springs.
Hold it together until she didn’t have to walk into this building anymore, stare Julian in the face and have to fend off a tidal wave of memories from before.
From a time brimming with things she’d carved out of her life in Tom’s absence.
“I should probably get down to the music room and prepare before everyone starts showing up.”
“I’ll see you down there in a bit,” Gram said. “I think I’ll pop upstairs and run through the song a couple times.”
“Sounds good.”
They parted ways, and Charlie worked her way down to the music room where she organized the chairs, moving them aside to give the residents more space for their auditions. Then she set up two chairs near the front of the room. One for her and one for Julian. With plenty of space in between.
“You’re here early,” Julian said, appearing in the doorway a few moments later. He had a folding table under his arm. He carried it into the room and set it up in front of the two chairs Charlie had just placed. He moved the chairs closer together.
“So are you.”
“Wanted to make sure we were set up before we got rushed by choir hopefuls.” Julian jostled the table to make sure it was steady, then pulled a small notebook and pen from his pocket and set it down. “So, how does this work?”
Charlie scoffed, already exasperated with him. “I should be asking you that, codirector. This was your big idea.”
“You’re right.” His green eyes were bright as he pressed his hands against the table, leaning toward her. “I was just giving you the opportunity to contribute.”