They were going forward. She was almost out of school. Danny had a job that would display her talent and could lead to better things. They might both have new careers this time next year. Anxiety fluttered in her chest and she tried to swallow it down, but it bubbled. Her heart pounded in her ears. She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and hoped to release the sudden tension. Finding that impossible, she nestled Haydn close and he pushed her over. She laughed, despite him panting his hot breath right in her face. At least he kept his tongue to himself.
“Hey, quiet over there. Trying to make sense of a script.” Danny waved the script in the air. The smile on her face made her eyes twinkle.
Nicole chuckled. “Sorry. Your son’s unruly today.”
Danny arched an eyebrow. “Oh, he’s mine when he’s unruly? Now, I know what to expect when we have kids.”
Nicole straightened for a second, and her heart thumped harder against her ribs. “Really? When?”
Danny blinked. “I said ‘when’?”
Nicole smiled. “You did. Even if it was a slip, it’s nice to see you have that kind of faith subconsciously.”
Sighing, Danny leaned back and smiled. “It’s weird to even have a thought like that.” She shook her head. “Five years ago, I’d never consider it. Hell, I’d never consider this.” She motioned around them with her finger and then laughed.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?”
Danny flashed her a monster grin. “You know it is. Then, maybe it is when.”
And just like that, the anxiety was gone. Nicole wondered if her smile and faith did this to Danny. She grinned back at Danny, just in case.
***
Monday came sooner than Dane wanted, but unfortunately none of Nicole’s super powers included stopping time. Not that she would’ve if she could. When Nicole woke up, it would’ve been easy to think she had the new job. She was all smiles and practically floated around the house. Dane made breakfast for them. She was in the middle of scrambling eggs when Nicole showed up.
“Baby, you should probably get dressed,” Nicole said as she entered the kitchen, in her usual work clothes.
“Oh, right.” Dane had somewhere to be for once. The butterflies in her stomach should’ve kept her mind right on that. “Right back.”
“I’ll finish up in here.”
For some reason, the offer made Dane’s already flustered belly flip. She was supposed to make breakfast. That’s my thing. I make breakfast and make sure Nick’s out the door on time. This is weird. Shaking it off, she went to get dressed.
How was she supposed to dress anyway? Was it causal? She was creating music, not saving the world. It wasn’t like she’d really be interacting with people. Did it matter what she wore? Besides, this wasn’t an office job. Hell, Andrew was dressed like a hipster when they met, but he was the director. She was…she didn’t even know. Probably should’ve asked what the heck my job title was, but at least I found out my salary.
Scratching her head, Dane decided to play it safe. She didn’t have any business clothes, but she put on some of her better gear. First and foremost, she went with black cargoes. A red long-sleeve t-shirt went underneath a plain blue short-sleeve one. It was probably good enough. Maybe. She groaned as she looked in the mirror.
“I look fine, but I feel like an ass,” Dane grumbled. It felt wrong, for some reason, to be dressed and ready to go out, when there was breakfast to finish. I should be taking care of Nick, and she needs a proper breakfast to make it through the day.
“Danny! Food,” Nicole called.
“Shit, how long have I been up here?” Dane ran her hand through her hair and looked in the mirror again. “And this is the best I can do? I look like some punk kid. Shit.” I’m gonna fuck this up. It was too late to change, and she doubted she’d come up with something better a second time, anyway. Maybe I should take my piercings out. But, she met with Calvin with them in, then why take them out now? It seems professional. Really? Now, she was talking to herself. Damn, this is gonna be a disaster. Can I get fired over how I look on the first day?
Taking a breath, she marched back downstairs. Nicole had their meals plated and waiting in the nook. Dane sat down, staring at her eggs, sausage, and toast like she didn’t know what it was. Food wasn’t supposed to wait for her in the morning.
“Something wrong, love?” Nicole asked as she settled across from Dane.
Dane scratched her head, wrinkling her brow. Her eyes drifted to Nicole and then back to her plate. “This is weird, right?”
Nicole offered her a soft smile. “It’s not weird. I think you’re nervous, which makes sense. It’s your first day of work, on a job you’ve never done before, with a script you still can’t make heads or tails of. It’s natural to be nervous.”
Those words sounded like they made sense, especially since everything was true. She didn’t want to mess up on her first day. If she didn’t understand the story, how could she put the right music to it? She had an idea of what she wanted to do, but still needed several pieces to this puzzle. Then, there was the mystery band. I’d rather pick who’s in my band than have random people thrown together. The troubling sensation clouding her thinking felt like something more than that, though. Her heart was in her throat, and her belly refused to untangle itself from the knot it was in.
“Is this how it’ll be every morning? I’ll start breakfast, and you’ll finish it?” Dane asked, her mouth pulled to one side and her eyebrows bent in. What the hell kind of housewife would I be if I let that happen?
Nicole blinked and then smiled at her again, as if she knew exactly what was wrong. “Baby, we’ll work up new routines. I know you like the housewife gig, but I think you’ll enjoy working. You have music on a wider scale, love. Music. In front of an audience.”
Sighing, Dane nodded. The idea was enough to make her heart speed up, even though she always had music that mattered. Nicole was the one who gave music back to her, gave worth back to her, but something about this was different. Something about this made her insides flutter and twist into knots.
It was as Nicole said, music on a larger scale than what Dane had now and a different level than when she was a local legend. The job, the experience might be good, but it could also be a disaster of epic proportions. She had never done anything like it before. What if I suck? Then a voice in her head asked a better question. What if you don’t?
Dane needed to give the job a chance. This could be something magnificent, and I can’t let fear control me. She took a breath and tried to settle into the change.
“You have to eat, love. We don’t have a lot of time to spare to get you and me to work on time,” Nicole said around a mouthful of eggs.
“True.” In the end, though, Dane had to take most of her meal to go. When they got into the car, she stared down at her eggs and one sausage link, housed in a plastic container. “I don’t think I’m going to finish this.” She barely managed to get her toast down.
“It’s okay. Hell, every first day I’ve had, I threw up, including going back to school,” Nicole said, keeping her eyes on the road.
The revelation didn’t surprise Dane, as Nicole tended to fret. “Did you think you wouldn’t be good?” She couldn’t help wondering why Nicole would want to put herself through changing careers after she got her degree. Besides the fact that she works with a bunch of jerks.
“No. Just wondering how people would act or what was ahead of on this new path. Sometimes wondering if I set high enough standards for myself or if I set too high a standard because I’ve misunderstood the situation.”
Dane nodded. How would people at the play react to her? The director wasn’t in favor of having music and might still be hostile. Would she be able to change his mind? And how would everyone else act, especially if they see the director not getting along with her? What if this job was like Nicole’s and she was bombarded by assholes for most of the day? Would she be able to cope with that? No, you need to do this. You can be better, and make Ni
ck proud of you. You can be like a real adult.
“You’ll be fine, love. I know it.” Nicole’s smile made it believable, if only for a couple of minutes.
The butterflies in Dane’s stomach vanished briefly, but returned and seemed to multiply as they pulled up to the theater. It got to the point she thought butterflies might burst from her gut. Before she even realized it, Dane put her hand through her hair. She was about to pull her hair when Nicole leaned over and kissed her cheek.
“You’ll be fine.” Nicole caressed her other cheek.
“Okay.” Dane hoped that was true. Her angel tried not to steer her wrong, after all. Yeah, but your angel certainly gets you into trouble, too, when she thinks she’s doing what’s best for you.
“You’ll be fine.”
This didn’t make her believe it anymore, but it got her out of the car. She gave Nicole a short wave, feeling the cold bite at her fingertips, before turning to look at the theater. Just like before, it loomed. For a moment, it seemed to hiss and roar. Taking a breath, she managed to walk inside.
She had expected a bustle of energy, but it was all rather muted. The lobby was empty and there weren’t that many people in the theater proper. Andrew was off to the side, talking with some folks. He happened to glance up and meet her eyes. Waving the people away, Andrew approached her with a sneer already firmly affixed to his face.
“I cobbled together an orchestra for you,” he said as if he had done her a favor. He looked her up and down. “You do know what an orchestra is, right?”
Oh, that’s how he wants to play it? Dane scoffed. “I could ask you the same thing.” She could only imagine what crippled little band he threw together to try to get rid of her and the music.
He had the nerve to frown, as if he hadn’t insulted her first. “Don’t think this job is a lock for you.”
“Never think anything is.” The only thing she ever knew for sure was that Nicole would be there for her. The rest of life was up in the air and had been that way since Henry and Lynn returned her to her parents.
He gave her another look and led her to a small room, which reminded her of a band room back in high school, where the ‘orchestra’ waited. It was obvious he had no idea what the hell an orchestra was. Seven people waited for them, their instruments pretty random. Did he grab people off the street while they were playing their instruments?
“Did you put up a poster of instruments and throw darts to find musicians?” Dane inquired. There was a violin, a trumpet, a piccolo, a tambourine, a piano, a sax, and a harp. This guy seriously got someone who plays the harp? Is he hoping to add class to his confusing mash-up? “Was a sitar player unavailable?” Of course, she might’ve been able to do some fun things with a sitar. Probably could with a harp, too, but I probably won’t have the chance to be that artsy.
He scowled, his blue eyes trying to cut into her. “This is what you have. Work with it.”
He can’t be serious. She wasn’t sure if she could work with it. Her art had a process to a degree, and she might not be able to compromise it to do her job. Dane needed to be able to put her band together, if only to make sense of what her universe was. This was like some mutant beast. There wasn’t even a percussion instrument; well, beyond the tambourine anyway.
Glancing away from the instruments, Dane saw who came attached to them. Everyone looked roughly her age, maybe a little older. She wouldn’t judge experience by that, though. Maybe they were all good, but it didn’t matter. They didn’t seem bothered by her words, like they had these jobs already, like she didn’t matter. To hell with that.
“Okay, I was led to believe I’d have creative control over the music, which would also mean having creative control over the orchestra,” Dane said. She thought Calvin would put something together and trusted he’d do something serious. Instead, Andrew tried to give her a mess.
Andrew scoffed, folding his arms across his narrow chest. “Who told you that?”
“The man who hired me.” Maybe if this so-called orchestra was Calvin’s doing, she’d try to do something with it, but that wasn’t the case. She’d have to be a little difficult and not let Andrew set the tone of their relationship by walking all over her. Besides, she’d like for the music to not suck. Her music had to touch people, make them feel, make her feel, and connect them to the story more than the story itself already did. She couldn’t do that with this group of instruments.
Andrew stared at her, as if trying to force her to back down. He pointed to the floor with authority. “This is my show.”
“I don’t doubt that. Your name is on the script twice, after all. In fact, I’d like to talk to you about that. I want to better understand your vision and do it justice. I’m supposed to be in charge of the music, though, and I wanna make awesome music.” She motioned to his collection. “This is noise.”
Andrew’s square jaw tensed. “Oh, you can’t make any music with this? I guess you’re not the genius Calvin thinks you are.”
Dane tilted her head. He said “Calvin” in a weird way, beyond obviously making fun of her. She already suspected they were related, but she felt like Calvin had to be his dad because he didn’t seem comfortable with saying his given name.
“Yes, well, I’m not sure how much sound you expect to get out of the tambourine, but if this is the sound you want, I’m sure I can make something out of it that won’t suck and have people ripping into your work.” She shrugged, but had to roll her eyes. Sound? Who are we kidding here? Now, this shit made no difference to her. She’d do her best with this madness and let the critics yammer on about the work.
He flinched. “My work doesn’t need music.”
“Not saying it does, but Calvin wants it and I’m guessing the buck stops there.”
“I’m the writer and director.” He puffed out his chest.
“Fine. Call Calvin. We can settle this, see who picks the orchestra, who makes the music, and move on with our lives.” She wouldn’t let him push her around, even if he was the director. She wanted to do her best and if she could get better than this, she’d like that. She needed the instruments to go together in some order. Maybe he doesn’t take his art seriously, but I do.
Folding his arms across his chest again, Andrew glowered at her. Seconds ticked by, but she refused to look away. She wouldn’t back down. She had a real gig, a job. She could step up her game, make actual money, and take care of Nicole, like Raymond wanted her to, like Kathleen wanted her to, like she wanted to. She wouldn’t let this ass screw that up for her.
“If you think you can do better, then fire these guys and hire new ones. Just don’t go over budget,” Andrew hissed before slinking away.
Dane shrugged. She had no idea what the budget was. Calvin was supposed to handle that part of things. Why hadn’t he? Where was her five-piece orchestra rather than this seven-piece collection? She shook that off. She’d fix this, find out the budget, as she’d need to hire new musicians. I still need to talk to Andrew to figure out what the hell he’s trying to do, then I can write music for it. Turning, she took in the orchestra.
“Okay, tambourine, do you play anything else?” Dane asked. A tambourine wouldn’t come in handy, but maybe there were other talents there.
The woman, possibly the only person over thirty among them, rolled her eyes. “No. What does it matter?”
Dane nodded. “I’m sure you’re awesome at what you do, but it’s not 1970.” She pointed behind her with her thumb.
“You can’t just fire me,” the woman protested.
Dane had some experience in cutting people loose, in the sense that she told club managers where to go when she was at the top of her game. “Sorta just did. Thanks for your time.”
“The director said I was hired.”
“Go chat with him, then. Maybe he didn’t tell you, but I’m in charge of music.” Dane motioned to the door with both hands. She didn’t have time to argue. She really needed to see what she was working with.
The tambou
rine player huffed, stomped her foot on the painted cement floor, and marched off. Dane turned her attention to the others. The harp player looked at her, and they seemed to come to an understanding.
“I was wondering why I got hired for this in the first place,” the woman said.
“As much as I’d like to get a chance to compose with a harp, I don’t think it’ll work, especially for this play,” Dane replied. She needed a string instrument with a little more range. Surely working with a harpist would be an experience, but she wouldn’t experiment right now. Maybe one day I’ll be established enough to try that. And maybe one day she’d understand the story enough to feel comfortable experimenting.
“I’m always up for a challenge if you do get a reason for a harp.”
Dane chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
The woman marched off without the harp, which easily could’ve been one of the many instruments dumped backstage. Maybe Andrew told her not to bring her instrument. Traveling with a harp couldn’t be easy. Before she was totally gone, Dane noticed the woman roll her eyes. Dane ignored the snub and turned her attention back to the orchestra. Should I make more cuts?
The way the other musicians looked at her, Dane knew they awaited her next dismissal. The sax was a little out of place, but she might be able to make it work. There was always room for jazz. She’d need to find a drummer. Before that, she wanted to see what these guys could do. Finding out their abilities could help her come up with a plan. Maybe things wouldn’t be about cutting the instruments, but cutting the players.
“All right. I’ve got some music and I’d like to hear each of you play,” Dane said.
“Is it ‘Pop Goes the Weasel’?” The trumpet player smirked, devilish happiness twinkling in his green eyes. He earned snickers from the others.
Dane shrugged. She wasn’t new to mockery, even in music. She remembered being fifteen, stepping on stage, hearing laughs, jeers, and taunts. Until she played her guitar. From that moment, she’d been a snake charmer and the crowd had been her cobras. It still happened whenever she ventured into new places, like jazz clubs. Blues clubs had never taken her seriously until the music started.
Learning to Walk Again Page 14
