"I can't. I--"
"Just do it or he'll keep bugging you. That's Bobby."
Reluctantly, I stepped forward and everyone cheered. Mommy and Richard stood beside each other watching with interest and surprise. Although Richard looked pleased, a strange look came over Mommy's face. If I didn't know better I'd have thought she was jealous.
"This is a song an old friend taught me," I began as I took the fiddle. The crowd grew still, but I tried not to think of them and instead thought of Papa George and his pleasure whenever I played for him. "It's an old mountain folks song about a woman whose lover dies in a feud. She mourns him so much that her heart turns into a bird and flies away, up to join his soul."
Someone laughed and someone else said, "Shut up, you idiot."
I lifted the bow and began, singing softly at first and then lifting my voice and closing my eyes. When I ended, there was dead silence.
"That was great," Mel said just loud enough for everyone to hear. There were murmurs of agreement and then there was loud applause and cheers.
"Looks like you got a real good new client, Richard," Bobby shouted across the room. Richard smiled and nodded.
"Do I know talent when I see it or don't I?"
"Is that a question?" Someone shouted and there was more laughter. Bobby and his band started again and the wild, happy mood returned.
"That was very sweet," Mommy said coming up to me. "You
didn't waste much time getting to know everyone and letting them know you played the fiddle."
"I didn't. It just--"
"But I really don't think that kind of music is successful in Hollywood these days, Melody, so don't get your hopes up."
"Oh, I don't expect the fiddle to make me famous. I didn't even want to play it now. I didn't come here for that."
She laughed.
"Oh, maybe you did," she said with a wink. Without another word, she grabbed the arm of a tall, dark young man and went off to dance again.
As I walked through the room everyone congratulated me on my performance and Sandy gave me a big hug.
"You're great," she declared. "You're going to make it."
"Make it? Make what?"
"Success, silly," she said before rushing off to dance. Mel stepped up beside me.
"You're a hit. No one has moved into this complex and won everyone's attention so quickly," he declared. "I'm not looking to do that."
"What are you looking for then? A job in the supermarket? I can help you get that," he teased. "Somehow, I think you want more, just like the rest of us."
"No," I insisted.
I looked around at the gathering of young hopefuls, everyone believing something wonderful would happen if only they tried hard enough. They came from all over, the East, the Midwest, northern California, each of them waiting to get their big break. It wasn't wrong to have ambition, but there was a line, a difference between ambition and false dreams, dreams that would only bring pain and
disappointment. I had no idea where the line was or who was crossing it, but I wasn't going to be one to do so, I vowed. Yet I could see how easily someone could be tempted to believe in fairy tales. I couldn't deny the compliments and encouragement had me daydreaming about being a famous musician.
Cary's words came thundering through ray memory. It's more glamorous than living in an old house and harvesting cranberries. I don't blame you.
"I'm tired," I told Mel as my thoughts came back down to earth. "I've had a big day." I flashed a smile at him and grabbed Mommy's arm as soon as she danced near me. "I'm going back to our place. I'm tired, Sis."
"Whatever," she said, barely hearing me. She was too involved in her dancing.
"Hey, it's so early," Mel said as I headed for the door.