by Peak, Renna
It looked terrible, the makeup doing not much more than accentuating the deep purple scrapes and only barely covering the now dark blue bruising beneath her eyes. I gave her a little shrug and pulled some powder from my bag. I put a little under her eyes, which really did nothing.
She turned back to the mirror. “I look like hell.” She turned back to face me. “Don’t I?”
I gave her a thin lipped smile and a slight nod. “Yeah. I’m sure it’ll be better in a few days.”
She turned back to the mirror, shaking her head. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.” I met her gaze through the mirror. “What do you want to do today? Everything Des Moines has to offer is at your feet.” I raised an expectant eyebrow at her.
She smiled and made a sound that almost sounded like a snort through her nose. “Anything Des Moines has to offer, huh?” She tilted her head. “Do they have a zoo?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I grabbed my phone from the desk and did a quick search. “Yep, looks like it.” I looked up at her. “You really want to go to the zoo?”
She grinned. “You know how I feel about giraffes, Jenna. They’re the only thing that will make me feel better today.”
“Yeah, I know how you feel about giraffes,” I mumbled. “I don’t know why you feel that way about giraffes, but I know.”
She clapped her hands together like a six year old and bounced up and down, almost the same Mel that she always was. “Yay! Let’s do this!”
I called for a car and we were taken across the city to the zoo. Thank God they had giraffes—I wasn’t even sure if it was going to be a real zoo. It turned out to be a pretty great zoo, though, complete with all of the animals one would expect to find there. Not that it mattered. As soon as we bought our tickets and went through the gate, Melissa pulled me in the direction of the giraffes. I didn’t know how she even knew where they were—she just knew.
I bought a bag of popcorn from a cart before we found our way to the giraffe habitat. Melissa pulled me onto the “perfect” bench to sit and watch the animals eat the leaves that had been artificially put high onto poles around their area. We sat there in silence for a long time, crunching on the popcorn and watching the graceful giants chew their leaves before Melissa finally spoke to me.
“It was my fault, you know.”
I turned to look at her and saw she was still admiring her favorite animals. “What was your fault?”
She made a motion with her hand around her eyes. “This. I really did ask for it.”
I shook my head. “Bullshit, Mel. No one asks for that.”
We sat in silence for a few more minutes before she answered. “I was looking at another guy. I really was. I wasn’t trying to start another fight or anything, but I was looking. I’d been drinking and I was looking.”
“Oh, Mel.” I grabbed her hand and tried to catch her gaze. “You’re allowed to look at other guys. Unless you hit him first, there is nothing you could have done to deserve that.”
She shook her head, still staring straight ahead into the habitat. “I don’t know what it is about me. Why I attract those kinds of guys.” She nodded to herself. “I need to take responsibility for my actions, you know? I have to accept my part in what happened. That this was at least half my fault.”
I shook my head and tried to see which giraffe had her attention. I had to think of the right thing to say. “I don’t care what you did, Mel. There is never…” I cleared my throat and looked over at her. “There is never any reason for another human being to do what he did. Never. Like, not ever.”
I saw her nod her head, and hoped she could at least hear my words, even if she didn’t agree right now. She took a deep breath and blew it out before speaking again. “I think I should go home, you know? Back to San Francisco. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved in this. You’re knee deep in your own shit.” She turned to me and I could see she was barely holding it together. “I’m a total fuck up, Jenna.”
Tears stung at my eyes. I pulled her into an embrace and she buried her head into my shoulder, sobbing again, just like she had at the airport the day before. We sat there like that, crying together in front of the giraffes in the zoo in the middle of Des Moines for a long time.
We broke our embrace when we heard Mel’s phone ring. She sniffled and pulled it out of her bag. “Oh great. My father.”
She answered the call and I tried not to eavesdrop, but still heard her end of the conversation.
“Hey, dad… Yeah, I know… I tried to explain that to you before… No, I know…” She was silent for a long moment, presumably because her father was doing the talking. “Okay. I’ll try, dad. And I’m sorry.” There was another moment of silence. She sniffled a few times before speaking again. “I will. I love you, too.” She turned to me and narrowed her eyes, almost looking angry.
My eyes widened. “What?”
“You talked to him. Don’t tell me you didn’t. I know you did.” She sniffled a few times. “I don’t need you fighting my battles, Jenna.”
I shook my head. “I’m not fighting your battles, Mel.”
“I know you talked to him. Don’t lie about it.”
“I’m not lying. I didn’t call him, though. I emailed. Mel…” I shook my head and swiped at my eyes with the back of my hand. “I was responsible for you losing your job in San Francisco. That was on me. You didn’t do anything, and I needed to make it right.”
She shook her head. “It wouldn’t have mattered, though, don’t you see? I would have left to go with that jackass to Portland, so it was only a few days difference. I would have quit again, disappointed him again. I’ve done nothing but be a huge disappointment to him. That whole thing with Japan…” She shook her head. “It wouldn’t have mattered.”
“Well, it mattered to me. He’s giving you another chance, then?”
She shrugged. “Sounds like it. I’m to report back on Wednesday. Who knows how long until I fuck it up again? Probably not long.”
“Mel, don’t think like that. You can look at it like a new beginning…”
“Oh, can the bullshit, Jenna. I don’t care about being a stupid secretary. I’ll never be anything else there because I didn’t finish my degree. He’ll never see me as anything other than a failure. I don’t give a shit about my dad’s company. It’s just a crap job making copies and answering the phone. I’m sick of the highlight of my day being taking lunch orders from the staff.”
“I’m sorry.” I knew I wasn’t going to win this one. I knew it wasn’t my battle to win.
She just shook her head. “It isn’t your fault. I’m going back, though. I need to get back to my real life.
I nodded. “I’ll probably come back next month when the straw poll business is over. I’ll try to get a job teaching piano lessons or something.”
She nudged me with her shoulder. “That is so exactly what you need to be doing, Jenna. Maybe you can get a job playing in a hotel lobby or something.”
“Yeah. That’d be awesome.” My dreams of being a soloist never included playing in any lobbies or bars, exactly. I supposed it would be better than campaigning or managing some lame marketing department. At least it would be doing something I halfway enjoyed.
We turned back to watch the giraffes again. They were still munching at their leaves and I guessed that was probably all they did all day long. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to be a giraffe if that was all there was to existence.
I heard my phone ring in my bag and I pulled it out to see who was calling. It was a San Francisco area code, but a number I didn’t recognize. I showed the screen to Melissa. “Your dad?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t know who that is.”
I gave her a slight shrug and answered.
Jenna Davis, please.
“This is she.”
Oh, hello Miss Davis. This is Marie St. Claire, dean of admissions at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. How are you today?
“Um, fine. How are you?”
<
br /> I’m very well, thank you for asking. Miss Davis, we were in receipt of your request to be reconsidered for admissions to this year’s graduate study program in piano. I’m pleased to offer you the chance to audition for a spot in this fall’s class if you are still interested. We were most impressed with your last application and were quite disappointed when you reconsidered our offer.
“Hold on, you’re offering me a chance to audition? Now?”
Yes, Miss Davis, as I said, you scored quite high on our admissions criteria when you originally applied. We understand that there were extenuating circumstances surrounding your withdrawal. We would love to have you audition for consideration for this fall’s class.
“Oh.” I was silent for a beat too long.
Miss Davis, you were still interested in being considered for admission, were you not? We were under the impression, from your recent communications, that this was the case…
“No, of course. Of course I’m interested. I just didn’t expect…”
Splendid! As luck would have it, our next audition is this Wednesday. I realize this is short notice, but we would love to hear you play and consider you again for admission.
“And how many people? I mean, how many will be competing for the open spot? Spots?”
We have two positions available in the class. We have invited twenty, no, twenty-one applicants have been invited to audition.
“I see.” I paused for a moment to think about her offer. “Sure, why not? I’ll be there.”
Wonderful! Please arrive at the auditorium at ten. There will be a short introduction, then candidates will be randomly called to perform before the admissions board. Please have a piece or an excerpt of no more than ten minutes prepared.
“Okay.”
Very good. Miss Davis, I want to tell you how delighted we were to hear that you had reconsidered and wanted to pursue your musical education once again.
“Okay. Thanks.” I hung up and turned to Melissa.
“What was that?”
I shook my head. “Um… I guess I’m going back to San Francisco with you?”
Her brows knitted together; she looked almost as confused as I felt.
“Someone asked the Conservatory to reconsider my previous application.”
“Who?”
I shrugged. Only Brandon came to mind, but I wasn’t sure why he’d do it.
“Your knight in shining armor?” She must have read my mind. She cocked an eyebrow in my direction.
I shrugged again. “He’s probably the only one who cares enough.”
Melissa made a sound that was pretty close to a snort through her nose. “You need to start rescuing yourself, girl.”
We both turned back to watch the giraffes without another word between us.
14
I closed my eyes and rubbed at my temples. I pulled my feet up onto the little gig stool that sat in front of my electric keyboard and wrapped my arms around them. My headphones were still on, drowning out any sound that might have bothered me—not that anyone was making any sound in my little apartment. I tried to visualize playing my piece perfectly; I could see my hands skimming across the keyboard, hitting every note. I could hear every note—
“DO YOU WANT SOME COFFEE?” Melissa had pulled one of the earpieces of my headphones away from my ear.
I slapped my hand over my ear, trying to drown out the suddenness of her voice. “Christ, Mel, there’s no noise in the headphones when my fingers aren’t playing. You don’t need to scream.”
Her smile widened to a grin. “Sorry, doll. Coffee?” She made her way around me to our tiny kitchen and turned on the coffee maker.
I shook my head. “No, it’ll make my hands shake.” I looked down at them. They were already shaking. Definitely no coffee for me.
She shrugged and I watched her bounce around the kitchen. She seemed to be doing remarkably well, the bruising on her face now dimmed to a lighter blue and green instead of the angry purple it had been before. She’d found the magic formula with her makeup, too, and the color barely showed through after she had it on.
“How are you doing, Mel?” I watched her pulling things out of the refrigerator and secretly hoped she wasn’t going to try to make breakfast. Melissa’s forays into cooking had never been very successful. Toast was about as complicated a dish as the woman could handle.
“Brilliant, doll. How ‘bout yourself?”
“Same.” I stood up from my gig chair and stretched my back. I hadn’t realized how numb my butt had become from sitting there for the past few hours.
“Ever hear from Prince Charming?” She pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge and I knew we were going to be in trouble.
“Um, nope. Not since the text the other night.” I walked over to the bar that separated the kitchen from our little dining area. “Hey, you should let me take you to breakfast.” I took a seat at one of the bar stools that faced the kitchen.
“No can do, sister. I have to be at Baxter & Bishop at eight o’clock sharp to meet with my father. You know, the whole ‘my future with the company’ speech in his office.” She cracked an egg into a still cold frying pan. “Not like I haven’t heard it five times before.” She paused for a moment, looking up at the ceiling. “Six times before.”
“You’re going to do great. I know you are.” I winced as I watched her crack another egg in, then turn the heat up on the stove to high. A kitchen fire was about the last thing we needed that morning.
She sighed deeply. “We’ll see. It’s a short term thing that’ll get me through, I guess.” She turned to face me, leaving her eggs without the watchful eye they needed with heat that high. “I did something. I should have told you, I guess.” She turned back to the stove.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I watched her cook her eggs. “What did you do? It couldn’t be that bad.”
She shrugged, keeping her back turned from me. “Oh, no, it’s not bad. I just didn’t know how to bring it up. You know.”
My stomach did a little flip and I felt my heart beat quicken. I didn’t need any more surprises, just then. “What is it?”
She turned back to me, the look on her face something between excitement and fear. “You know how the University of California has all those online class thingies?”
I nodded. “Sure.” Her eggs started to smoke. “You should watch your eggs.”
“Oh yeah.” She turned her back to me, pointing her attention back to the stove. “Well, I applied.”
“Seriously?” A grin took over my face. “That is so awesome, Mel.”
“You really think so? I mean, I’m only taking one class to start this fall, so it isn’t a big deal.” She glanced at me over her shoulder. “I wasn’t sure what you’d think.”
“I think it’s amazing! Why wouldn’t I?”
She shrugged and turned back to the frying pan. “I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t sure about it, so I didn’t know what anyone else would think, either.”
“Well, I think it’s awesome. I’m so excited for you!”
She looked at me over her shoulder, her lips turned up into a smile. “Really?”
“Really.” I returned her smile and pointed at the stove. “Your eggs.”
“Oh, shit.” She turned off the stove and dumped the steaming mess onto a plate. “I don’t even know why I bother.” She slid the plate between us on the bar. “Breakfast is served m’lady. You realize we’re both going to be college students again, right? How awesome is that going to be?”
I let out a long sigh. “Well, that remains to be seen. I’ve got less than a ten percent chance of making it, so, you know. Unlikely.” I waggled my fingers in front of me. “These babies haven’t really been playing much the past few years, you know? I think my odds are pretty low.”
She slid a fork over to me and took one herself. She took a bite from the plate of eggs, blowing on it first to cool it off. “I think you’re getting in. It’s meant to be, right?” She turned back to the coffee pot
and poured herself a cup of coffee. She came back to stand at the bar opposite of me. “Ever figure out who made it meant to be?” She raised an eyebrow in my direction.
I shook my head and took a tenuous bite from the eggs. They weren’t terrible—better than what usually happened when Melissa stepped foot in the kitchen.
She continued. “I mean, I’m glad he did it for you and everything. Hell, I wish I had thought of it because I would have done the same thing, but seriously. He should have talked it over with you. How could he really know that was what you wanted?”
I shrugged again. “We talked about it, I guess.” We had. Just not at any great length. Not enough for him to go out of his way like this.
“Hmm. I’d be pissed for you if I wasn’t so happy for you. I guess when they tell you you’re in, you should just call him and thank him. Where is he, anyway?”
I lifted my shoulders into another shrug. “No clue. He just said he had things to take care of. Super busy and all that.” I took another bite of eggs.
“That sounds like a crock. You believe him?” She blew on another bite of eggs.
“I don’t know. What choice do I have?”
She tilted her head. “You’re the one who tells me ‘you always have choices.’ Why don’t you have a choice now?”
“I guess I do. I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”
She reached out and patted my hand. “That’s why you have me, doll.”
15
My stomach would not stop flipping and flopping and generally making me sick after I arrived at the auditorium. I checked in, listened to the short spiel given by Marie St. Claire, the dean of admissions, and then received my assigned audition slot. Because the auditions were blind—the judges were seated behind a screen and didn’t know who was playing—we were all only known by our numbers. I drew number eight, which I figured wasn’t too bad considering there were twenty-one of us who were auditioning.
I walked out into the lobby of the auditorium to wait my turn to be called. I figured it would be more than an hour before I was called since each audition was ten minutes long.
