Chapter 18 - Aria
ARIA
I’ve never slept with a single dad before.
So this is still new for me—being face-to-face with the daughter of a man whose face I rode.
On the stairs. And again in the shower. And another time in his bed.
And now, here I am in the Brodie house again, fully clothed and trying to get the daughter to lighten up.
It’s not quite as awkward as I thought it would be.
It helps that Macy is so focused on her “theatre job,” as she calls it.
She’s wearing sparkly leggings, a colorful top, and a rainbow headband today.
She looks like a fun eight-year-old girl.
Now I just need to get her to sing and dance and act like one.
She loved the science behind voice a little too much.
I’m impressed that she almost has all her lines memorized already.
She has the ability to improve her technique, I can see it.
But there’s still something missing from her performance—joy.
The nanny is here while Miles is at work.
We had our first three lessons at the guest house, but Mrs. Wilson’s landscapers are working in the backyard today so it’s too noisy over there.
Macy and I are in the living room doing vocal warmups.
Macy loves doing vocal warmups. We’ve already done our stretching and breathing.
We’ve done our lip trills. Macy loves to loosen up her lips by blowing raspberries.
We’ve done puppy whines. Now we’re doing tongue twisters.
“Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers,” she recites, concentrating so hard I’m afraid she’s going to have deep-set elevens on her forehead by the time she’s ten. “A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked.”
“Good.”
“I’m not done yet.”
“Go ahead.”
“If Peter Piper packed a pick…” She huffs. “If Peter Piper picked a pack…a peck of pickled peppers, where’s the peck of peppers Peter Piper picked?” She sighs. “Sorry I messed it up.”
“It’s fine—people mess up all the time. You know, if you ever mess up a song during a performance, you don’t have to go back and say the line over again. You can just keep going.”
“But I want to respect the text.”
I’m pretty sure that’s the first time an eight-year-old has ever said the words “I want to respect the text,” and I’m also pretty sure she heard someone say that in a Master Class or a YouTube interview.
It’s heartening that anyone would want to respect the text that I wrote for a children’s musical that’s fun for the whole family—but girlfriend needs to lighten the eff up.
When we’ve finished our warmups, Macy asks if she can sing the first Alice song from the script for me.
“Well, I was going to do some physical exercises before we get to that, but sure. Let’s hear it.”
She takes a sip of water, adjusts her posture, and then starts singing.
“This is what I get for chasing rabbits…
But so far I don’t have any regrets
Because he’s such a cute white rabbit
And he’s not just any bunny
He’s a really cute white bunny
with a waistcoat and a pocket watch
And that really kicks things up a notch—am I right?
I just think he’s really cute
And I think we’d get along
So now I’m falling
I’m still falling
For a really cute white rabbit
For a cute white silly bunny
Who was in a great big hurry
But now here I am still falling just for him.”
I cut her off before she continues with the rest of the song. She’s so serious. “Okay, wow. That sounded really good, Macy. We just need to work on your delivery.”
“Was I not standing straight enough?”
“No, you were standing very straight. Your posture is excellent. It’s just that she’s falling down a rabbit hole while she’s singing this.
We’ll get into the choreography and staging later, but this is a fun song.
It’s a fun show that kids and parents can enjoy together.
You’ll see once we have the music, but let me give you an idea of how I sing it, and then we’ll do some exercises and you can try it again, okay? ”
She frowns. It’s a very Brodie frown. “Okay.” She doesn’t cross her arms in front of her chest like a petulant child. She puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head to one side to study me.
I sing the first verse and move around like I’m falling in slow motion.
“This is what I get for chasing rabbits…
But so far I don’t have any regrets
Because he’s such a cute white rabbit
And he’s not just any bunny
He’s a really cute white bunny
with a waistcoat and a pocket watch
And that really kicks things up a notch—am I right?”
“See what I mean?”
“Yes. You made her more excited about falling.”
“Exactly. How do you think Alice feels about the white rabbit?”
“She’s curious about him because he’s different from the other rabbits she’s seen.”
“Yes, and?”
Blank stare.
“What does she keep saying about him in the song?”
“Oh. That he’s cute?”
“Exactly.”
“She likes him.” She blushes, and I’m sure she’s thinking about Lucky Miller, the cute boy who plays the White Rabbit.
“Yes. And it’s up to you to decide if she likes him the way a girl likes a boy or if she likes him the way girls like bunny rabbits. But she likes him enough to chase after him on a lazy, hot day. Right?”
“Yes. I understand,” she says, pensive as she picks up her notebook and writes down in bubble letters, Alice thinks the rabbit is cute. “What were you thinking when you sang it? Boy-liking or bunny-liking?”
“I was thinking about a boy. Let me put on some music,” I say, deftly changing the subject.
“I’ll get that Bluetooth speaker from the kitchen.
” I go get the portable speaker from the kitchen counter and feel a tiny, very inappropriate orgasm zap when I flashback to the insane vibrational tornadorgasm I had in here last night.
When I’m connecting the Bluetooth to my phone, Macy asks, not at all in an accusatory way, “How did you know my dad has a speaker in there?”
Shit.
“Oh, I could see it from in here.” That is not a lie.
“Oh.”
“What kind of music do you like to listen to for fun?”
Macy lists all the musical soundtracks she listens to.
“No, I mean like pop songs. We’re going to dance around for a bit.”
“You mean choreography?”
“No, just for fun.”
She winces and wrinkles her nose, like I just told her we’re going to eat beans so we can fart out the songs as an exercise. “Why?”
“For fun.” I put on a Justin Timberlake song from the Trolls soundtrack and take Macy’s hands, pulling her to an open space on the floor.
“For the show?”
“For fun,” I repeat, swinging her hands around before I let them go and dance. “Come on, just let loose.”
She looks worried that she’s going to do it wrong, cautiously stepping side to side with her arms tight against her sides.
“There’s no wrong way to do it, Macy. Just move around to the music.
” I let my moves get a little crazier, but that doesn’t make her laugh in the way that I’d hoped it would.
So I dance in a more basic way that she can emulate.
I bounce around, shifting my weight from one leg to another and tilt my head back and forth.
Charlie Brown dancing but with a little more energy.
Macy finally starts to loosen up.
“Have you seen this movie?” I ask.
“Yes. I like Anna Kendrick when she’s a cartoon.”
“I know what you mean.”
We dance around to the next song on the soundtrack, and by the end of it, Macy is smiling and laughing and wiggling her shoulders around.
I close my Spotify app and say, “Okay. Sing the ‘I’m Falling’ song again from the top.”
“Now?”
“Yep. Go. And feel free to move around when you’re singing it. However you want to.”
She takes a sip of water, a deep breath, and starts singing again.
“This is what I get for chasing rabbits…
But so far I don’t have any regrets
Because he’s such a cute white rabbit
And he’s not just any bunny
He’s a really cute white bunny
with a waistcoat and a pocket watch
And that really kicks things up a notch—am I right?
I just think he’s really cute
And I think we’d get along
So now I’m falling
I’m still falling
For a really cute white rabbit
For a cute white silly bunny
Who was in a great big hurry
But now here I am still falling just for him
And I’m still falling, far and slow
But I’m just going to go with the flow
I’m still falling, far and slow
And it’s the start of an adventure, I just know!
Down
Down
Down
Oh look—a jar of marmalade!
Oh shoot, it’s empty.
Just my luck.
Well this is some escapade—an empty jar of marmalade
And there’s a random lampshade
with no lamp
or a bulb
And shelves with no books
And pictures on hooks
But it’s better than books without pictures—am I right?
This is weird but it’s not boring
I’m so grateful it’s not boring
Give me anything but boring
I would rather go exploring
If I could just land on some flooring
Back up there I would be snoring
So at least this isn’t boring
And I’m still falling, far and slow
But I’m just going to go with the flow
I’m still falling, far and slow
And it’s the start of an adventure, I just know!
Down
Down
Down
Well, I just hope that bunny’s worth it.”
When she’s done, she’s beaming at me.
“How’d that feel?”
“Fun! It was fun!”
“I love how you sang it this time, Macy. That was so much fun.”
The lovely nanny raps on the doorframe before entering from the foyer. “So sorry to interrupt.” She holds up a little gold ring. “I found this little ring on the stairs. Does it belong to you?”
Shit.
It’s my toe ring. I didn’t even realize it was missing. I don’t think I should claim it as mine. I squint at it. “Oh, I don’t think so.”
Macy goes over to examine it. “Hey, isn’t this your foot ring?” She takes it from the nanny and brings it to me.
“Oh, you’re right. That is mine. Thank you.” I’m barefoot right now, so I just slip it onto my right index toe.
“But wait, how did it get over there? I didn’t see you go upstairs.” Again, Macy isn’t being the slightest bit accusatory. She’s just curious. Like Alice.
I glance over at the nanny, who presses her lips together. She knows. Oh, she knows.
“I…” I am not a good liar.
The nanny steps in and says, “I think perhaps the ring fell on the floor when you came through the foyer, and then I stepped on it and it got stuck to the bottom of my shoe.”
“Yes.”
“And then when I went upstairs, it fell off on the step.”
“That must be what happened. Thank you so much.”
“Wow. What an adventure for your foot ring,” Macy says. No hint of irony. “Do we have time to dance to that song again, Aria?”
“Thank you again,” I call out to the nanny as she’s walking away.
She gives me the OK sign.
“Yeah, let’s do that, and then we’ll work on your pitch.”
I turn on “Can’t Stop the Feeling!” again, this time the version with Justin Timberlake and Anna Kendrick singing, and I encourage her to sing along and snap her fingers while we dance.
We’re both having so much fun we don’t even realize Macy’s father is leaning against the doorframe between the dining area and the kitchen, watching us. He’s wearing a charcoal gray suit, and he looks so handsome I want to slap something. Not him, just the arm of a sofa maybe.
“Daddy!” Macy runs over to hug her dad, and he looks just as surprised as I am that she’s so animated right now. “Why are you home?!”
“Hey, honey. I just had a meeting cancel, so I thought I’d watch your lesson.” He’s looking at me while hugging her and saying this. “I can stay for another half hour, and then I have to get back to the office.”
“Wow, I think this is the first time ever!” Macy says, pulling him over to our little dance floor. She looks so happy to see him, I actually hope he really did come back just for her. “Come dance with us.”
“Oh, I don’t dance. Ever.”
“Daddy, you have to! He has to for the show, right?”
“Well, he doesn’t have to for the show, but he does have to right now.”
“Fair enough.”
And the three of us dance to a Trolls song in the living room.
I’m sure Miles has some moves when he’s on a grown-up dance floor and has some scotch in him—and I would love to see them.
But right now he’s doing some grade A dad-dancing with Macy.
I wish this was a video, so I could like it and comment with a million heart emojis.
I also wish I could give him a really quick, family friendly blowie in the guest bathroom before he leaves. Just to show him my appreciation.
But that will have to wait.
When the song’s over, I turn off the music, pull up a clip of Julie Andrews singing “Do-Re-Mi” on YouTube, and ask Macy to sing along with it before we do scales.
While she’s doing that, I stand behind her and pull out my phone.
ME: Hi. Nanny found my toe ring on the stairs, and I did not want Macy to know that I was here last night. You didn’t tell her, right? We forgot to discuss this.
Miles joins me behind Macy so she can’t see him texting on his phone.
MILES: Hi. Right. No, I didn’t tell her. I don’t want to lie to her, but we should probably wait to tell her about us.
I’m not the kind of girl to ask exactly what it is we’re waiting for.
I’m not a back door girl, I’m not a “where is this going” girl, but I am a girl who giggles and blushes when the gorgeous man who hammered her multiple times last night and this morning uses the word “us” in reference to him and me.
MILES: Also, I couldn’t wait to see you again and I’ve never seen my daughter dance like that and you look hot.