Chapter Six #2
“Oh, is that what you were doing?” What did he think he was, charming? Charlie crossed her arms, regarding Julian and his cheeky grin. She watched as it softened into something more deliberate, and a fluttery weight landed in her gut.
“Of course. I’m happy to take your ideas on board. I want to make sure you feel like a valued member of this team.”
Charlie’s face flushed. “Valued? Without me, you’d have no idea what you’re doing.”
Julian’s eyes dropped briefly to her lips. “Guess we’ll never know.”
Charlie’s entire body flushed. “I shouldn’t even have come.”
“And yet you did,” he said, gaze flicking back up, forcing Charlie to tear her eyes away.
Truth was, she felt out of her depth. She’d attended Juilliard and taught piano, but she was a performer, not a choir director. She really should have just said no to him yesterday, ending this farce.
“When I asked Google how to start a choir last night,” Julian continued, “it said to start by defining its purpose and target audience.”
“You Googled?”
He winked. “I’m full of great ideas. So, purpose, win twenty grand. Target audience. The lovely residents of Elm Springs. I’m crushing these codirector responsibilities.”
“If you think that’s all you need to do to win this thing, you’re way out of your league.”
His smile wavered a bit as he slumped down in his chair, and she annoyingly felt a nagging pang in her chest. She remembered how disappointed he’d been that day in the elevator, when he’d revealed there wasn’t a budget for the music program.
For years, music was all Charlie had lived and breathed. How could she not support that now?
“I suppose,” she began, some ridiculous part of her not wanting him to look so dejected, “that we should hear the auditions and separate the residents into voice types for a start.”
Julian picked up his notebook and pen. “Voice types. Got it. And then we go and win this competition.”
“Probably need to squeeze some rehearsal in there first,” Charlie said.
“Ah, yes, rehearsal.” Julian flipped his notebook around. “Here’s the game plan. Voice types. Rehearsal. Win. Three steps. I think we can manage that.”
Charlie sat down beside him. “That easy, huh?”
“I mean, there will probably be some obstacles along the way. But I think we can sort them out. Together.” He held her gaze, his eyes softly creased at the corners.
Warmth surged through her. No, not just warmth. Heat. Spiraling, tumbling, dizzying heat. She remembered falling into those eyes. Falling into him. Over and over again. Even now—
Nope! Now nothing.
Charlie looked away as the door opened, glad for a distraction from the torrent of feelings that spread through her. They were like a spark on kindling, and she was going to stomp them out, one stubborn flame at a time.
Another staff member poked her head into the room. “Hey, Julian! I brought Frank like you asked.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Sherri.” Julian hopped up to greet an older man in a wheelchair. After shaking his hand, Julian poked his head out into the hallway before closing the door behind him and Frank. “We’ve got quite the crowd gathering out here.”
Charlie sighed. She supposed there was no more avoiding it.
“Charlie, this is Frank,” Julian said, introducing them as Frank guided his wheelchair to the center of the room. “I thought he might enjoy auditioning.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Frank,” she said.
“I explained to Frank that we’re aiming to win a competition. You got your music picked out?” Julian asked him.
Frank produced a tiny speaker from his pocket and plugged his phone in. Charlie was impressed as he accessed Spotify.
“He’s a bit of a tech guru,” Julian muttered to her as he walked back around the table.
Charlie perked up as she heard familiar music start.
“This is ‘Climb Ev’ry Mountain,’” Frank said, introducing his audition piece before he started singing.
Charlie gaped as a rich baritone voice filled the room.
Julian looked at her and held up his arm. “Goose bumps,” he whispered.
The song was traditionally sung by sopranos, but Charlie appreciated how seamlessly Frank adapted to the music. It was beautiful. She could have listened to him all day.
When Frank stopped singing, she and Julian erupted into applause.
“Wow,” Julian said. “Just wow, Frank. What are you doing hiding that voice?”
“What a treat,” Charlie said. “That number is a particular favorite of mine.”
“From 1959 to 1963,” Frank said, “The Sound of Music ran for more than 1,443 performances at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre.”
Charlie grinned, impressed. “Frank, I did not realize you were such a Broadway fan. I am in excellent company today.”
“Tech guru. Broadway aficionado. He is a man of many talents,” Julian said.
Frank beamed at them both. “I will see you at rehearsal.”
Charlie was pleasantly surprised by his confidence as Julian rolled him into the hallway, inviting in the next auditioner.
When Julian plopped back down beside her, she leaned in.
“You don’t really expect me to tell any of the residents that they haven’t made the choir, right?
Because it sounds like Frank is coming to rehearsals regardless. ”
“Is he not good enough?” Julian asked, confused.
The woman in the room started to warble through her audition.
“No, he’s great. I just meant… I don’t think I have the heart to make cuts.”
“I didn’t really think we would,” Julian admitted. “Thank you, Elaine,” he called. “That was excellent. Can you send in the next person?”
“Then what’s all this audition nonsense for?” Charlie asked.
“Because holding auditions gets them fired up. And if they’re fired up, they’ll be excited and eager to win.” Julian added Elaine’s name next to Frank’s in his notebook. “Plus this is what choir codirectors do, don’t they?”
Charlie huffed and settled into her chair, but she couldn’t deny that a small part of her was entertained.
Over the next hour, they watched over a dozen auditions.
Gram was a soprano. Maggie, more of a mezzo soprano.
Harriet was an alto while Jim Henshaw was a tenor.
There was no one quite like Frank, but Charlie was impressed with the natural talent she saw, and she stole Julian’s notebook to make her own lists.
Because now she wasn’t just entertained by the auditions, she was laughing at Julian’s little asides—why did laughing feel so much easier with him?
—and scribbling notes on how the voices complemented each other.
“All right,” Julian said as the last resident left the room. “I think that’s it.”
He took Charlie’s finalized list, pinned it to a board at the back of the room, then swung open the door. “We would like to thank everyone for auditioning today,” he announced in a booming voice. “Unfortunately, we can only take the very best.”
Charlie smirked, knowing no one had been cut.
“Please check to see if your name is on the list and then take a seat.”
The residents piled through the door. Charlie was reminded of flooding the hall after high school auditions to see who’d made the school play.
There were gasps and squeals as the residents spotted their names. Maggie clapped her hands together, her cheeks so rosy it made Charlie’s chest ache. She hadn’t realized quite how much this would mean to some of them. And as she watched their joy, a flicker of warmth washed through her.
Once the residents were seated, Julian looked to her.
Charlie stood, clearing her throat. “I just want to say that I am truly impressed with the talent we saw here today. And I can’t believe you’ve been letting me stand up here this whole time doing all the work.”
That earned her a few chuckles.
“First thing I’d like to do is get everyone arranged by voice type,” Charlie continued. She walked over to Frank, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Do you mind if I reposition your chair?”
“Not at all,” he said, lifting his hands into his lap.
Charlie took the back of his wheelchair, moving him to the middle of the group. “Okay, Frank and his lovely baritone voice should be here. Where are my other baritones?”
A few of the men stood up, carrying their chairs toward Frank.
“And what about my tenors?” Charlie asked.
The group looked around in confusion. That was expected. Not everyone knew their voice type. She consulted her list. “That’s Jim, Earl, Leroy and Nelson.” Her tenors joined the baritones in the middle of the group.
“Now can I get the sopranos to the left,” Charlie said. “That’s Gram, Maggie, Leane and Dot. And finally, my altos to the right.”
More chairs squeaked as Harriet, Elaine and Patrice repositioned themselves.
“Okay,” Charlie said, looking at her reorganized group. She suddenly had flashbacks to the first few classes at Juilliard. “I guess we should start with some vocal warmups. How does that sound?”
She’d started to take warmups more seriously recently.
That first class she’d hosted had been a bit of a shock to the system after two years, so Charlie had gotten back into good habits.
Hydration. Vocal care. Her voice was an instrument, and she still needed to look after it to perform her best. And so did the residents. “I’ll have my codirector demonstrate.”
“Umm…” Julian began.
She smirked, waving him up beside her. “I told you I’m not going to do all the work, didn’t I?”
Julian stood, looking sheepishly at the crowd. “Just take it easy on me.”
“Afraid you can’t handle it?”
There was something playful in his gaze. “I guess we’ll see what I can handle.”
Charlie swallowed hard. “Stand up straight.”
“I am.”
She pressed on the middle of his back, feeling the hard muscle flex along his spine. His chest puffed up, his broad shoulders rounding. She suppressed a shiver. “Straighter. Like this.”
Charlie made minor adjustments to his posture, hands placed against thick forearms or along the ropy muscles of his biceps, doing her best to fend off Alicia’s comments. But she failed, imagining one of Julian’s hands disappearing between—
Charlie almost gasped at the intensity of her thoughts. What was wrong with her? She reached up and tilted his jaw. “I’d like you to hum along with me.”
She demonstrated, and Julian copied. Poorly.
“Why are you making that face?” he asked.
“I didn’t know you could screw up humming.”
He tried again, much to the amusement of the residents.
“No, like this,” she said, chuckling. She clutched his face between her hands, gently, and with her thumbs, formed the correct shape with his mouth.
“For everyone’s reference, this is a demonstration of what not to do,” Julian said. The group laughed as Julian gave the warm up another shot.
“Something easier, then,” Charlie said. “Try some lip buzzing.” She performed a couple trills and waited for him to repeat the motion.
Julian’s lips puckered.
Charlie arched an eyebrow. “Can you take this seriously, please?”
“Lip buzzing? I didn’t know it was possible to not take that seriously.” He tried again.
“Okay, now you’re just beatboxing or something.”
“Can we add that in?” Harriet asked. “I think I’m actually quite good at that.” She raised her hand to her mouth as she and Julian started some odd, terrible beatboxing battle.
“Moving on,” Charlie said loudly.
Julian leaned toward her and buzzed his lips by her ear.
She shoved him away, grateful no one could hear the way her pulse spiked. “Okay, that’s enough warmup demonstrations.”
“Why? Are you not impressed by my vocal talents?” Julian asked.
“Actually, I’m a little concerned about your inability to carry a tune.”
“What are you talking about?” He sang out some notes for the group.
“Give me advanced warning next time if I should turn off my hearing aid,” Harriet said.
Charlie laughed, the sound exploding out of her, loud and bold and so full of glee that she caught herself. Was she actually having…fun?
The moment she realized that, panic set in, flooding her entire body with a cold chill.
She couldn’t afford to feel this way. It was more than she’d allowed herself to feel in months.
This was for Gram. To build her a community.
Not a space for Charlie to lose herself or enjoy herself.
Guilt gnawed at her. She had to take this more seriously, the way Tom would have.
This wasn’t fun and games. This was a job.
The results of this competition could mean the continuation of the music program.
So she had to get in and get out without getting attached, because she couldn’t afford for the wrong emotions to show up and ruin everything.
“Okay,” Charlie said with renewed focus. “I think we just need to dive right in and get the group singing together.”
“Hold on a second,” someone called. Charlie looked up to see Warren standing in the doorway. He pushed his medication cart to the side. “If you’re gonna be a choir, you’re gonna need a name.”
“A name!” Julian said. “Of course. We’ll need something to put on the application form. Okay, people. What are we working with?”
“The Glendales?” Maggie suggested off the bat.
Gram and Harriet both wrinkled their noses.
“The Oldies,” Jim suggested.
“No!”
“The Classics,” Patrice said, shrugging. “That’s better than oldies.”
“The Classics has a nice ring to it,” Maggie said.
Charlie didn’t love any of these options. Neither did she love the Elm Springers, the Glendale Choir or Glendapella.
“How about the Glendale Shakers?” Julian said. “Because we like to shake it to the beat?”
“At this age, I shake whether I want to or not,” Harriet said with a grin.
“Oh! Maybe we can work in some coordinated dance moves,” Maggie said.
“And we’re not too old to shake other things,” Harriet added. “Are the kids still twerking, or has that gone out of fashion?”
Oh God, Charlie thought.
“Let’s try to keep it PG,” Julian said, shaking his head. “The first thing we need to do is get an audition video filmed to submit with our application. If the council likes us, we’re in. So let’s not try to scare them off with our racy moves.”
Harriet smirked.
“Audition video?” Charlie said. She hadn’t realized they needed to film something. That meant they needed to be a functioning choir long before Christmas. “When’s that due?”
“About a week and a half,” Julian said. “Or else we risk missing our chance at the competition altogether.”
She lowered her voice. “You need to tell me these sorts of things.”
“I sort of thought I’d handle the logistics, and you’d handle the music.”
“The music is affected by the logistics,” Charlie said.
“Is it?”
“Isn’t it?” God, she wanted to shake him.
“Don’t stress. It’s all coming together.”
Charlie didn’t know what exactly he thought was coming together, but if he—
“All right,” Julian said, breaking Charlie from her train of thought. “All in favor of calling ourselves the Glendale Shakers?”
Hands shot into the air. “Aye!”