Sing

Chapter 4

Aunt Connie walks around the table, pouring everyone sweet lemonade, "So how was the ride over?"
"Bumpy," my father says jokingly. My parents seem to have some awkward tension, because you can clearly see my mom isn't entirely happy and my dad is talking with an on-edge tone.
"We had a little talk in the car about you, Vivian," my dad says tersely, almost relieved to get the words out of his mouth. I look up, acting surprised.
"Is that so?" I say mockingly, shoving lettuce in my face while making full eye contact with my father.
He clears his throat and shifts in his seat uncomfortably, "Um, yes. Your mother and I have established the interest and enthusiasm of Nicole's talents. But, we were wondering, if, uh..-"
"If you would like to share any sort of interest in something you are good at so we can help enroll you in it and encourage you," my mother says, almost out of breath.
"We have seen Nicole's clear talent," She continues, Nicole gleaming out of the corner of my eye, "but, we don't hear much from you. We want to see what your made of."
I gulp, my brain searching for something to say.
"Uh, okay," I say, easing the tension between my parents, "I love to draw, and sing. Mostly sing, I guess."
"Ah! She gets it from me!" Aunt Connie blurts from across the table, quickly apologizing for interupting an important "moment".
"Hm, really?" My dad mumbles, as if to joke about it. My mom shots him a searing look, and he puts his head down to eat.
My mother starts. "So, singing? Are you sure? We've never heard you sing before-"
"What about when I do the dishes?" I jump on her tongue like a lion on its prey, "what about the musical I was in? What about all the times you hear me humming around the house? You call that 'not ever hearing me sing'?
"If you haven't noticed, I've shown clear interest in things my whole life, but you just couldn't give a single damn about me because perfection here is your only focus." I stand, my mother stands up across from me.
"Honey, I-"
"Excuse me." I walk out of the room into the nearest guest bedroom and sit on the floor. I hear the door shut behind me, and I look to see my Aunt Connie standing before me, smiling.
"Sing."
"W-what?"
"Please? I want to hear you sing. They might not care, and may not have noticed, but I have. I notice a lot more than you think. I observe, like you. Now, can I please hear you sing?"
I move myself from the floor to the desk chair, pulling it out into the middle of the room, my aunt pulling up a chair in front of me. I smile, aligning my back straight against the old wooden chair.
" What should I sing?"
"Anything you want, go for it," She says with a light encouragement hanging in her voice. I've never sang in front of people by myself, usually I'm in a group of some numbers.
I think of a cute little tune I heard in the car in the midst of my parents exchange, and I let the words flow out, with every emotion I feel in the moment.