Goldilocks Forever

Chapter 50

Ithaca, New York

August 2006

You can do this, she reminded herself. You've done it before and you can do it again. For the occasion, she even put on some lipstick and curled her eyelashes. She tied her hair into a French braid. As a final touch, she wore one of her mother's necklaces. The velvet-lined jewelry box was no longer on her father's dresser, but tucked away into a closet. She'd had to ask him where it was. She touched the gold heart as it rested between her collarbones. Her hands shook. Her stomach fluttered with nerves and sickness.

"I'm ready," she said to Grant when he opened the door to his office. The bright light streaming in from the window made her wince and shield her eyes. Her head pounded.

He smiled and guided her into the room. Already seated were three other men. He introduced them by their names and the roles they held with the orchestra.

"Play whenever you're ready."

The men smiled and looked at her with interest. No doubt they knew. She was sure Grant had told them, probably like it was some juicy piece of gossip.

Anna ignored the throbbing in her head and prepared herself to play. She considered asking Grant to close the blinds. The sunlight in her face made her dizzy and hurt her eyes. She decided to plow ahead. She could close her eyes and play the pieces by memory.

She shifted and brought the bow to the strings. Barely a minute into the piece—the most complex she'd mastered—her headache exploded behind her eyes. Her vision dotted with blackness. She winced. Her fingers slid on the fingerboard. The notes came out sour.

Gasping, she put down her bow. "I'm sorry. I—I'll try again."

She started again and only made slight progress before she had to stop. She sucked in her breath. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead, yet cold chills consumed her.

"Stacy—" Grant looked at her with concern.

"No, no," she said. "I want...finish." She could barely speak, but she brought her bow to the strings again. It scraped them in a long dissonant squeal. All four men winced at the sound. The bow fell to the floor as Anna huddled over her violin, gasping for air, her face contorted in pain.

Grant picked up her bow and held her up. He guided her toward the hallway and shut the door behind them. "Stacy," his voice was low. "Are you okay?"

"I don't feel well." She stared at the floor, watched the tiles swirl beneath her feet. She tightened her grip on Grant's arm.

"It's okay." He tried gently to extricate himself from her grasp. He handed her bow and the case to her violin. "Go home and get some rest."

She leaned up against the wall, catching her breath. After several moments, she could gather her things and hobble to the parking lot. Just walking upright was a challenge. She told herself to focus on walking at a normal pace so she would attract as little attention as possible.

She sat in her car for a long moment. The heat inside comforted her and made her dizzy at the same time. She rolled down the window and breathed deeply. Waves of nausea flowed through her. She fished the key out of her purse and, with shaking hands, turned it in the ignition.

Just get home. She couldn't dwell on the failure of the audition. She only wanted to get home without causing an accident. When she was about a mile from the house, she could take no more and had to pull over and vomit out the window. It relieved her slightly. She managed the rest of the way home and immediately headed up to her room.