Page 112 of So Not My Thing
I could imagine the confusion on Miles’s face. The next act was supposed to be a well-known blues duo from Biloxi.
“This young lady hasn’t performed in public in over a decade, and if the rumors are to be believed, her voice is one of the best-kept secrets in contemporary music. Please put your hands together for Miss Elle!”
I forced myself to step onstage as the audience applauded, feeling good after an hour of cocktails and the Horn Dawgs. I waved as I walked past the music stands they’d left behind, crossing to the piano. I tried to smile too, but the curve of my lips felt hard and plastic, and I kept having to force myself to blink.
I sat at the piano and put my hands on the keys, but they shook, and my stomach churned hard. Jordan came over to adjust the mic for me, switching it off as he positioned it, quietly asking, “You good?” next to my ear.
No. I wasn’t good. I was terrified. I hadn’t sung for an audience since high school, and I was a nobody. But when I’d called Jordan and explained what I wanted to do, he’d agreed. “Miles is miserable. If this’ll help, let’s do it. He says you can sing, and he would know.” When I’d sent over the recording I’d made on my iPhone so he could figure out where to slot me, he’d texted back,Dang. He wasn’t lying.
I clung to those words now, settling my hands in my lap so I could squeeze them tight to steady them. “I’m good.”
He nodded, switched the mic back on, and withdrew.
I took a deep breath, my hands still tightly clasped, trying to will them apart. Restless sounds rose from the front tables, and even though I wasn’t ready, I’d run out of time. It was now or never.
I put my hands back on the keys. They shook again, but I played the first chord, determined to get through this, to show Miles how much I wanted us to work.
But I couldn’t calm the nerves, and I stumbled twice in the intro measures. This was a disaster, and the rustling of the audience grew louder, but there was no way I could make the words come out. I lifted my hands from the keys, squeezed them tight in my lap again, forced myself to take two deep breaths, and started over.
I stumbled in the same spot.
Tears pricked the backs of my eyes, and I didn’t know what to do, so I kept playing, passing the point where the lyrics began, hoping I could settle in before I tried to add my vocals. Because right now, my throat was closing like I’d just developed a deadly allergy to the mic in front of me. And the notes didn’t get better. The more I fumbled, the more I fumbled. I was ready to stand up and run when a warm hand touched my bare shoulder and Jordan was back, leaning down to whisper again.
“I can play if it would help. I listened to it a few times yesterday. Could you sing if I do that?”
I nodded. “I think so.”
“Go to the main mic,” he said. “I’ll cue the sound guy to turn it on.” He slid onto the bench and I slid off, walking over to the lead mic on legs that were as shaky as when they’d walked me to the stage. But at least here, I could hold the mic and the stand and keep my hands still.
As soon as I took my mark, the melody I’d been messing with for weeks poured from Jordan’s fingers as flawlessly as if he’d been the one practicing it the whole time, and this time, after the intro, I came in with the lyrics.
Been hard to get over it but I was trying
If I said it didn’t matter I’d be lying
But there’s a point I have to let it go
And now I just need you to know...
My nerves began to settle as I let the words sink in, trying to fill them with the same emotion that had poured from me when I wrote them. The audience had gone quiet again, at least. And maybe, maybe if I could sing this right, wrap each note with the love and longing that I’d been feeling for Miles for months, maybe he could see me standing here, terrified, but doing this. Doing this despite the shaking. Doing this despite the fear. And he would see that I could do this.Wecould do this.
You make me new, I’m whole with you
You’re all I ever want or need
We’re the love story I want to read
I eased into the second verse, my voice coming a little stronger, the emotion quieting my nerves.
I don’t want us to be a “what might have been”
Let’s turn the page and begin again
This chapter doesn’t have to be our ending
We can write our own brand new beginning
It took me back to the feeling of driving down the causeway, the wind blowing into my car and clearing from my mind everything that wasn’t the truth of my feelings. That I loved Miles. And that was everything.
