Later on, as I was preparing dinner, Aaliyah came rushing into the kitchen, carrying a piece of paper in her hands.
"Mmm, something smells good," she said, sniffing the air.
"Sméagol is making dinner, Precious," I said happily.
She smiled. "Watcha makin'?"
"Spaghetti."
"Oh, I love spaghetti."
"Yes, me, too. Very tasty it is."
"Do you need any help?"
"No, thank you, Precious. Nice Aaliyah taught Sméagol how to makes it."
"I know."
"Taught me very well she did."
Aaliyah smiled warmly. "Awww, thanks, Sméagol."
"What's in your hands, Precious?"
"Oh! Well, I was doing some research. I was looking to see if there were any performance opportunities around town, and I found this, Open Mic Night at the Ashfolk Tavern. It's for local musicians who are looking for gigs around town. You show up, perform one to three songs, and they give you a form to fill out."
"A form?"
"Yeah. They'll want information on what kind of venues you want to perform at, the kind of music you play, how much you charge, all that stuff."
"Charge?"
"Yeah, you can get paid for your shows."
I didn't know how I felt about charging for my music. On the one hand, I did want to helps pay for things we needed, rather than letting poor Aaliyah pay for everything herself. But, something did not sits right with me.
"I think you should do it," Aaliyah suggested.
"I... I don't knows, Precious."
"What's wrong?"
"I wants to bring joy to people. I offers my music as a gift. I don't feels right asking people to pays for a gift."
Aaliyah put her hand on my shoulder. "Sméagol, you're not charging your audience for your music. Whoever hires you will be paying you. These are people who work at the venues you'll sing at. They want to pay for entertainment. People who come to listen to you get to come for free."
"Are you sure, Precious?"
"I'm positive. However, there are some places where they will leave out a tip jar, and if people in the audience want to give you money, they'll put it in the jar. But, that doesn't mean you're charging them or making them pay. It's their choice. It's basically them giving you a gift in return if they really love what you've given them."
"So nice that is." I nearly burst into tears. "People are so nice here."
"Yeah. There are a lot of nice people here. There's a lot of really friendly and genuine people in the South. It's what they call southern hospitality."
"Sméagol likes southern hospitalitieses very much."
Aaliyah smiled warmly. "Me, too."
"So, when is Open Mic Night, Precious?"
Aaliyah looked at the paper, and her face dropped. "Oh, crap."
"What's the matter, Precious?"
"Well..." She hesitated. "It's this Friday... and it starts at six."
My heart sank. "But... what about... Grady's?"
"Well, we can still go the week after."
"Oh, I knows, but... what about Máiréad?"
"Ohh, right."
"I don't wants her to thinks I forgot about her."
"Hmmm." She thought for a moment. "Well, if we finish early enough, we'll go back to Grady's after."
I smiled, somewhat relieved. "Alright, Precious."
"So, you wanna do it?"
"Yes, very much."
I finished making dinner, and we both sat down to eat.
"How is it, Precious?" I asked. "Did I do a good job?"
"Mmm, oh, my Gosh, Sméagol," Aaliyah exclaimed with a mouth full of pasta, "this is the best spaghetti I've ever tasted!"
I lit up, and my heart fluttered with joy. "Really?" I cried.
"Yes, you did an excellent job. You're a wonderful cook, Sméagol. I don't know what you did to make it taste so good, but whatever it is, please keep it up."
I smiled lovingly. "I adds lots of love."
"Love?"
"Yes. I cooks with love. It's all from my heart, Precious."
"Awww, Sméagol! Well, I can taste the love, and it tastes amazing!"
"Do you feels it, too, my sweet friend?"
"Yes, I do. I can feel the love entering my heart. Thank you."
"Awwww, you're welcome, Precious. Sméagol loves you so much. So happy to have you as a best friend."
"Awwww, I'm so happy to have you as a best friend, too, Sméagol!"
I giggled softly as we finished our meal happily.