See You Soon Broadway (Broadway Series Book 1) Page 2

  “I know; I’m pretty exhausted.” I’m hoping she will get the hint. I could always tell her about the journal, but then she will want to read it too.

  “You went to the park, didn’t you? I don’t blame you.” She didn’t get my hint. “What did Guru Cassie have to say?”

  I let out a frustrated sigh. She isn’t going to let it go, so I may as well sit and talk to her.

  What seems like hours go by when Georgie finally stops with the million questions. I head to my room when my phone rings. I see that it’s Cassie calling. I let it go to voicemail because I already know what she’s going to say. I’m about to open the journal when she calls again. Seriously, this girl has to get up in four hours for her meditation. Why does she keep calling?

  “Hello?” I finally answer.

  “I knew you were still awake,” she says immediately.

  I scowl. “Well, I wouldn’t be if someone wasn’t calling me over and over again. Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?”

  “Yes, I should be, but I felt like we should talk.” Here comes my lecture. “I know the news was shocking for you. I was also shocked when I first found out. A few weeks ago, I stopped by to bring Mom some kale chips I made and I answered a phone call from a realtor. My first reaction was similar to yours, but I’ve had the time to get used to it.” She continues talking but, admittedly, I’m still focused on the kale chips—gross.

  “I felt like you needed to know so you didn’t feel like you were the only one to be unhappy about it.”

  “Thanks,” I say softly. “So, are you and Mark going to stay nearby?” The temptation to bring up my New York idea is overpowering.

  “Oh, yes! I’m having way too much fun with the house, and we’re established here, no reason to leave.” Cassie and Mark bought an old farmhouse and they’ve been renovating it. I’m actually impressed with all they’ve done; I was very skeptical when they first bought it because, honestly, it was a dump.

  “Oh good.”

  “How about you?” she asks. “Things seem to be moving along nicely with Kyle.” And there it is, my perfect window to ask my all-knowing sister what I should do with my life.

  “Yes! Kyle is great.” I hesitate, not because I don’t think he’s great, but because he is. I just don’t know what to say or how to bring it up. Lucky for me, my sister is very in tune with everything around her.

  “But?” she asks. “Go ahead and tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “Well—you remember when I had that wild idea to move to New York and pursue my performing career? Life happened and I met Kyle. He has no desire to ever move and I don’t know . . . I guess it’s been on my mind again.” I finally stop to take a breath and wait for her response.

  “Wow. Really?” She seems really surprised. “I thought you had moved on from that? I mean, you haven’t mentioned it in a while.” She stops talking and, unlike her, I don’t have the power to read other people’s minds or their energies.

  “Do you think I’m crazy?” I ask finally.

  “Crazy? Of course I don’t think that. But I do think you have to search for your answer,” she says thoughtfully.

  Search? What does she mean by search? Like on Google?

  “Um, okay?”

  “You need to search within yourself. Ask yourself for the answer to this life-changing question. What do you really want?”

  I’m more confused than ever. “Are you asking me this or telling me to ask myself?”

  I can hear the frustration as she lets out a big sigh. “I have faith in you that you will make the right decision.”

  I know that means she’s tired of talking to me. I glance at the clock next to my bed. Ugh! I can feel my eyes start to close, so I do us both a favor and get off the phone.

  I close my eyes for two seconds then I remember Grandma’s journal. I really want to read, but I’m so tired—maybe just a page or two.

  March 10, 1948

  I have been meaning to begin this journal for weeks. A birthday gift from my lovely friend Beatrice, according to her I must make a record of my endeavors. I suppose I should make her proud. So I will do so.

  What a day I had today. Perhaps my hours, days, and years of rehearsals will pay off after all. I auditioned at one of New York City’s top radio stations today. Truthfully, it’s difficult to fathom that I, Maris Goodwin, could actually perform on the radio.

  They told me that I sounded lovely and that they would be in contact. Tonight, I’m planning on staring out my window to watch for shooting stars; that would be my greatest wish—to be able to perform on the radio.

  Wow. Just wow. How did I not know any of this about my grandmother? I knew that she sang in church, but I had no idea that she auditioned for a radio station. I read on until I can barely hold my eyes open.

  ~*~*~

  I hear my phone ringing from somewhere under my covers. Crap! I totally forgot to charge it after my phone call with Cassie. I glance at the clock, 7:15.

  “Hello?” I wonder if I sound as bad as I think.

  “Morning, my dear, Lucy here. Terribly sorry for the early wake-up call.”

  No she’s not, I think to myself. I don’t actually say that out loud because I have no desire to get on Lucy’s bad side. I sit up so I don’t sound like I’m completely hung over.

  “Hi, Lucy.” I clear my throat as quietly as I possibly can. “It’s totally fine. What can I do for you?”

  I wish she wouldn’t have called so early because I’m still half asleep and I only hear half of what she’s saying regarding our end-of-year recital. That is until she says something that grabs my attention.

  “Now for the exciting news!” she exclaims. I think this woman has already had five cups of coffee. “I have made arrangements to have a few agents fly in from New York for the show. This could be a huge opportunity for a few of our superstars and for the studio. Don’t you think?”

  Agents? Oh my gosh!

  “Yes!” I shout. “I mean, this is so exciting, for everyone.” Suddenly, I’m wide-awake.

  She continues talking about the recital, but I have completely zoned out. Not only is this a chance to show off my students and all of their hard work, but also Lucy gives each instructor a chance to showcase our own talents at the recital. After we hang up, I practically leap out of my bed. I have a lot of work to do.

  ~*~*~

  Several hours later, I’m still hard at work on my grand plan. I have another little secret that I haven’t told anyone. I actually started writing my own songs a few years ago. Every once in a while I will work on them, but now with a goal in mind, I think I can finally finish one. I would love to perform one of my original songs in the showcase. While I’m sitting at my keyboard, something catches the corner of my eye. I look over to see my grandmother’s journal still sitting on my nightstand.

  “Maris? Are you home?” I hear Georgie call out.

  “In here.”

  Georgie walks in wearing her hot pink scrubs. She says those are the best pair to wear when the dashing resident doctors are on shift.

  “Guess who asked me out today?” she raises her eyebrows.

  “Hmm . . . my guess would be one of the many hot residents? You know I can’t remember names.”

  “Are you kidding me? You can’t remember Dr. Scott? I have only talked about him every minute of everyday for two months.” She rolls her eyes, but in my defense, she knows I don’t keep track of the drama of her hospital or the continuing saga of her love life.

  “Dr. Scott or Dr. McHotty?” I let out a little giggle.

  “You have no idea! Well, Scott is his first name but everyone calls him Dr. Scott. Ahhh . . .” She lets out a big sigh and falls back on my bed as if she’s madly in love. “Anyway, Dr. Scott has invited me to this fabulous ritzy rooftop charity benefit this weekend, and he told me to invite some friends. So, do you and Kyle want to join us?”

  I can see the exhilaration in her eyes. She loves that kind of stuff.

  “I think so
, but I will check with Kyle just to make sure.”

  Georgie was in a relationship for three years with her college boyfriend. I was sure they were going to get married but they broke up rather suddenly. Georgie says they just grew apart, but I still wonder if there’s more to the story. Anyway, she’s been serial dating for a while now. She claims that with her crazy schedule she can’t commit to a relationship, but I’m not buying that.

  “Whatcha working on over here?” She finally notices that I’m hard at work at my keyboard. I subtly move my music sheets under some songbooks. I don’t feel like getting into all of that. It’s not that I have stage fright exactly, but it can be nerve-wracking when it’s your own material.

  “End-of-year recital pieces,” I say quickly. “It’s going to be a huge event this year. Lucy is bringing in some big time agents from New York.” I’m practically bouncing out of my chair because I’m dying to tell Georgie that I’m planning to use this event as an audition for myself. I know that if I say anything I will open a huge can of worms and I will have to face the dilemma that’s staring me in the face.

  “Really?” she says thoughtfully. “That’s exciting, maybe you should talk to one of them about getting you some gigs?”

  What did she say? Is she a mind reader, too? Has she been hanging out with Cassie behind my back?

  “Why do you say that?” I ask nonchalantly.

  “Seriously, Maris? You’re one of the most talented people I know, and you have wanted to perform since I don’t know—birth? So, why not?”

  I don’t know how to respond to this? I mean, I guess I could tell her what I’ve been thinking but I wonder if I should talk to Kyle first.

  “Well, maybe.” I hesitate. “I mean, it’s kind of hard to get gigs when I’m not living in the city?”

  I look at her as I secretly hope she will give me an answer, any answer, on what to do. I catch myself holding my breath, so I let it out.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right,” she says. Unfortunately, she didn’t follow my lead. “So, when are we going shopping for this party? I need a new outfit, something hot, something that screams doctor’s girlfriend.”

  I try not to show my disappointment, and we make plans to take a shopping trip. I text Kyle to make sure he’s free the night of the party, and he says yes, of course, being the perfect boyfriend that he is.

  I start to daydream about Kyle. I hate to admit that I met him at a bar, even though it’s actually a very upscale bar/restaurant. Because of this I usually tell people that it was a restaurant. Anyway, we were there celebrating a friend’s pinning ceremony. There were five of us girls and Kyle was at the next table with four of his friends. How perfect could those numbers be, right? Anyway, one of his friends made a joke about fate bringing the ten of us together on that night in time. Kyle didn’t say much and neither did I, but he was definitely the guy that caught my eye. He told me later that he thought the same thing about me. The five of them ended up joining our table and we had an absolute blast. Two of us girls are still dating two of them and one couple got married, so I guess fate could have had something to do with it.

  When I awake from my daydream, I get back to my song writing. I already have songs picked out for all my students, and truthfully, I know Mimi is ready. I would love to bring them all together to do a medley. Thankfully, Lucy gives each instructor creative control over our own students. I think that’s why our shows are so dynamic.

  Before my lessons for the day, I want to run to the park to practice one of my songs. As I’m gathering my things, I glance at Grandma’s journal still sitting on my nightstand. For some reason I have the feeling that I was meant to find it, and I can’t wait to learn more about this fascinating person. I quickly hide it under my mattress – just in case-- and run out the door.

  Chapter 3

  Wow, we do look hot! We stand in front of the full-length mirror that’s hanging in our hallway. Georgie and I had a very successful shopping trip and we’re getting ready for the rooftop benefit. Apparently, this charity bash is just as VIP as Georgie thought it was going to be because even Lucy is attending.

  “So, Dr. Scott says he will introduce us to everyone tonight,” she says excitedly. “You never know who we might get to meet.”

  She slips on her very expensive little black dress. I think it cost her at least two paychecks.

  “Let me ask you something. Are you ever going to call him just Scott?” I ask curiously. She gives me an odd look as if I’ve asked her something completely ridiculous.

  “Everyone calls him Dr. Scott,” she says firmly.

  I want to respond with the ever appropriate “if everyone jumped off a bridge” question. Instead, I just keep my big mouth shut.

  We finish all of our primping just in time for Kyle to arrive. Georgie is giving him the rundown of the party when Dr. Scott arrives.

  Wow. She wasn’t kidding; Dr. Scott is very handsome and extremely friendly. Kyle and he instantly connect, and I can see the excitement in Georgie’s eyes. She would love for us to all become best friends. I can see the wheels turning; I’m sure she has visions of us being neighbors, having BBQs, our kids playing soccer, and taking vacations together.

  I haven’t said a single word to Georgie regarding my thoughts of a possible move. It’s not like I’m avoiding it exactly. It’s . . . well, okay, I guess I am avoiding it.

  Georgie takes Dr. Scott on a tour of our apartment, leaving Kyle and me to have a few minutes alone.

  “You look great as usual,” Kyle says, checking out my outfit. My thoughts are interrupted by his warm smile. He really has the best smile, so calming and sincere. I must have serious issues; I would be crazy to give up this life. Kyle is everything I need.

  “Thanks! I’m actually looking forward to this party. According to Georgie, it’s going to be pretty memorable.” I wrap my arms around his neck and give him a passionate kiss.

  “Nice! What was that for?” he asks curiously. “Not that I mind, trust me.”

  “Just because you’re wonderful.”

  “Enough of that mushy stuff; let’s go,” Georgie says, interrupting our private moment. She winks at me as she pulls Dr. Scott out the door.

  ~*~*~

  There are no words to describe this event. I’ve seen parties like this in movies but I’ve never actually been anywhere like this. After we arrive, we’re escorted to the roof. Our tour guide checks us in and we’re given swag bags. (Swag bags!) Georgie gives me a smug “I told you so” look. I just nod my head because I’m still a bit speechless.

  The roof is decorated with twinkling lights with sheer white fabric cascading down from somewhere. There are soft white velvet couches everywhere. There’s a live band playing in front of a small dance floor. Kyle and Dr. Scott have become best friends and have discussed everything from football to cooking.

  Georgie and I already checked out the goodies in our swag bags, very subtly of course. After an hour, a few drinks, and many introductions by Dr. Scott, I excuse myself to go the restroom. On my way back, I wander around the roof and stare out at the sunset; it really is a beautiful spring night. I love this time of year in Northern Virginia, and I know I would miss it if I moved. I think I know what I need to do; I need to stay here with Kyle, Georgie, and my sister. This is my home even if my parents sell their house.

  I must still be daydreaming as I quickly turn around and run smack into a man, spilling his drink all over his obviously very expensive suit.

  “Oh crap! I’m so sorry,” I yell. I start brushing my hand along his suit coat. Crap, what am I doing touching this man? I finally glance up at his face and wow—tall, dark hair, and very . . . um . . . masculine. I must be staring because I don’t even realize that I’m still brushing the front of his coat and now his pants. I’m beyond humiliated now.

  “Please don’t worry. It’s fine.” He smiles, holding up his hands. “I mean, it’s only a brand new suit, but hey, that’s what dry cleaners are for, right?”

 
“Um, right.” I hesitate. “Sorry for um, brushing, um.” Really, Maris, shut up, I think to myself.

  He holds out his hand. “Trevor Ericson.”

  “Hi, I’m Maris Forrester.” I shake his hand and smile thankfully. I really appreciate him changing the subject from my invading his personal space.

  “Maris? That a nickname?” he asks curiously.

  “No, a family name actually; I’m named after my grandmother.” He has managed to find a few cocktail napkins lying around and wipes off his coat.

  “That’s a cool name. So, how do you know the Phillips?”