Rachel Reads & Reviews

I know I haven’t posted my writing in a while, but since I didn’t get much engagement when I did my previous excerpts. Now that I have this nice new format and more user-friendly site, I hope there will be more comments. If you want to see more excerpts and bts of my work in progress, please say so. Or subscribe.

Previously I gave sneak peeks primarily concerning the main character, Kitty and her potential romance with James. Now here’s the other contender, Frederick Tilney, and what could be better to encourage intimacy than a private singing lesson.

Ch. 4 The Speed Test

“Kitty, what are you doing here? I thought you went home after work,” Julia chirped when Kitty nearly crashed into her at the front door of the theater. 

Kitty bent over, hands on her knees as she caught her breath. She had run out after work. Partly to avoid the yelling from Mr. Price when he checked at the cashier log and saw that she had to comp a muffin she dropped. Partly because it was almost 5:00, and she didn’t want Frederick to think she had forgotten or was trying to waste his time. 

In making sure he wasn’t forgotten, she had forgotten that the dance classes occasionally took over the auditorium stage instead of working out in the gym, and there was a chance of seeing Julia. 

“I wasn’t coming here, I was . . .  I was . . . I think I forgot my notebook in a classroom?” Kitty said, trying to move past Julia so she could go down the wing toward the music classrooms. 

“When you get it, want to study with me at the library?” Julia asked. 

“Um, sorry, I-I can’t. I want to practice my singing, and I need to do it alone. Mentally by myself, you know,” Kitty stammered, her heart pounding against her chest like the imaginary clock in her head ticking the time away for her voice lesson.

Julie shrugged casually. She guessed her friend was used to actors’ superstitions. “Okay. But Frank is having a get-together at my house at 7 sometime next week. We’re going to watch musical episodes of shows like Buffy and Grey’s Anatomy and compare them.” 

“I’ll be there. . . Wait, pick me up at my house. Lizzy usually hogs the car after dinner, and Mom won’t let me use hers,” Kitty said quickly, beginning to walk backwards toward the music rooms. Julie laughed as she walked away. 

Kitty waited until she was out of sight, and ran the rest of the way, down the hall and down the stairs where the music classrooms occupied what had been the storage room of the factory. Today with its grass-green walls and tiled floors, one could hardly tell it had been the dusty, hot room to store yarn and weaving materials. She slipped into the empty enclave under the stairs as Frederick had instructed. It was smaller than the other rooms, but it was out of sight unless students turned the corner. 

She pulled her phone out of her bag and checked again, 5:07. She was late, but so was Frederick. It gave her time to pull down her jeans and put them in her bag and straighten out her summer dress. No need for him to see the muffin top again, but doubts were starting to creep into her mind.

Why isn’t he here? Did he forget? No, he couldn’t. He’s the one that suggested this.  Maybe Mr. Willoughby sent him on an errand. That makes sense, but how long should I wait? The whole hour? Would it be pathetic if I waited that long for him? Maybe I should do homework instead.

She went to her Notes app to check her assignments: read the next chapter in the theater history book and answer questions at the end of the chapter. Choose a topic and create an outline for public speaking. Read the poem by Robert Frost for English and write a two-page response paper. 

Kitty could feel her eyes glaze over at the list. It was just her luck that she had signed up too late to get into any acting classes. She got stuck with the supplemental classes for theater majors. Besides, looking at the tiny 3 x 5 space, half taken up by a piano and piano bench, there wasn’t much room to work. She preferred to lay on the ground or pace when she was in the zone. 

I’ll practice my scales. If he walks in, it’ll show him that I have initiative.

She shook out her hands, legs and feet, sat down at the piano bench and tried warming up with a few tongue-twisters. 

“Mama made me mash my M&Ms. Mama made me mash my M&Ms. Do, Re, Mi, Fa, So, La, Ti, Do. Do, Ti, La, So, Fa, Mi, Re, Do.” 

She hadn’t gotten very far when she heard, “You’re swallowing your words.” 

Kitty yelped, and turned around to face Frederick leaning against the doorway. She knew it was her crush on the guy, but he looked like the cover of one of her mom’s romance novels. Chin tilted up, legs apart, hands on hips. The white button-down shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, hinting at the swirl of dark hair underneath. His lips were curved into that amused smirk and his eyes directly gazing into her own. 

“Sorry I scared you.” Frederick snorted playfully. It made his eyes crinkle up in little laugh lines that were surprisingly cute. 

“Wow.” She sighed, then abruptly coughed, hoping to cover what she’d said out loud. It didn’t help that she could feel a stupid blush crawl up her neck and cheeks. Once again, Kitty wished she had her sisters’ darker coloring. They didn’t get a neon sign highlighting their embarrassment. 

“Good to see you’re ready to begin. Show me your scales.” Frederick leaned on the wall across from her, one leg crossed over his knee, which reminded her of James Bond for some reason. Maybe the casual way he did it. Casual yet sophisticated. 

And handsome. That shirt really accentuates his shoulders.

A sensible voice cut off her musings. Don’t fall deeper into your crush. You’re his co-worker. No, you work under him. You’re supposed to be professional!

“Katherine? Are you going to do the scales?” he asked. 

“Yes, of course.” Kitty had to stop staring at him even if she felt tingles run up her spine at the way he said her full name. Like he was savoring a drink with a surprisingly refreshing aftertaste. 

She began climbing up the scales and then down, but it was hard to concentrate. The practice room was so small since they were for the music students to practice alone with their instruments. There was only a foot of space between Frederick and her, but it felt like even less with the way he was focusing so intently on her. His gaze was unwavering, yet his face left nothing for her to read. 

Suddenly, Kitty’s nerves at the audition felt silly. Onstage there had been the bright glare of spotlight obscuring the director’s judgment. Here Frederick’s eyes were the only thing Kitty could focus on. Like how his left eye twitched when her voice cracked, or how his eyes brightened when she settled within her range. 

“Your main problem is breath control, and the high notes. The good news is that Chicago isn’t like Oscar and Hammerstein, so we can focus on your diction in the mezzo range rather than the soprano. Let’s start with something simple. Do you know how to breathe in yoga?” 

“The inhale for 8 seconds, hold for 8, and exhale for 8?”
            “Yes, let’s start with that so you can understand the difference between breathing in singing, and breathing in your day-to-day life. Now stand up, so you can have your full lung capacity.” 

From there, Kitty’s focus on Frederick’s looks faded to frustration at yoga breathing. He was right, she did have a problem with breath control when it came to exhaling. Whenever she tried to prolong the exhale, she ended up losing her breath. Same with the humming exercises. 

Kitty had known she was amateurish compared to everyone else who had known they’d wanted to act since they were ten, but there was nothing so frustrating as being told you were breathing or humming wrong. And getting it wrong for twenty minutes. 

Frederick seemed to understand her frustration was getting to her when she started to grit her teeth during the humming in a futile attempt to keep from exhaling too quickly. Not that it helped.

“I think you get the idea. Why don’t we try an actual song? Do you know any patter songs?” 

“Um, I kind of know ‘The Speed Test’ from Thoroughly Modern Millie,” Kitty answered. She had sung it all week after watching the movie, so she knew how it was supposed to go, and she hoped she could prove she did have some breath control. 

“So do I, I’ll play.” Frederick’s chest briefly pressed against Kitty’s side when he moved to sit at the piano bench, and the close scent of his sandalwood cologne took her breath away. 

The first note sounded. . . then sounded again with a curt “Ah-hem.” 

Kitty blinked back to reality, feeling her stomach flip-flop in anticipation of the song and from the image of Frederick’s straight-lined back. He was helping to direct and he could play piano. He had so many talents. 

She was going to show him she was talented too. She could sing, and he’d applaud her again and maybe take her in his arms for a quick hug.

However, her performance was not hug-worthy. After being repeatedly told how bad her breath control was, Kitty felt too aware whenever she took a breath and tried slowing down to enunciate. That made her miss a cue and it was a mess. 

“Katherine.” Frederick twisted around in his seat to look at her soberly. “I appreciate that you’re trying to take my advice but don’t let it cloud your head. You had such enthusiasm and emotion for the character when you sang at auditions. That matters as much as technique. Try again.” 

Kitty began to sing the first line but he held a hand for her to pause, “Better. The problem is you’re anticipating when you’re taking a breath and it is obvious when you do so. You pause and it interrupts the whole song.”

“Sorry,” Kitty murmured, her optimism fading into feeling amateurish and unprepared. How did I get the role of understudy if I’m so bad at breathing?

It was like he could read her thoughts because he smiled at her reassuringly. “Don’t apologize. You’re good, you need more training. That’s what I’m here for.”    

Seeing his face filled with encouragement, Kitty tried to shrug off the feelings of inferiority. He wouldn’t have applauded before if she was untalented, and he wouldn’t be helping her if he didn’t believe she could do it. She needed to get back into Katherine Hepburn mode and take this as an opportunity to improve. 

“I really appreciate that. It means so much you want to help,” Kitty said, resisting the urge to grab his hand like he had done to her before. It felt like crossing an invisible boundary of some sort. The boundary between being professional and letting her crush overtake her sense of reason. 

Stop it! Stop looking at his piercing brown eyes. Or his lips. Damn, he has a nice smile.

But the sly amusement that made him look approachable contrasted with his hyper-focused voice coaching, and she felt her knees weaken. 

Frederick shrugged. “I told you, it’s my duty as a director.” 

That reminder burst some of the fizzy tingles in her chest. He probably was offering everyone singing lessons. He didn’t feel electricity when they touched. This was all duty to him. Yet he appreciated her talent. 

Somehow, that was enough for her to envision a small glowing heart around his aristocratic features. He saw something in her that no one else had seen in her until now. That was special enough. 

“So why do you want to help direct a community college production of Chicago?” Kitty asked shyly. “Where do you go to school? You could help there.” 

“Yale—” Frederick’s chest puffed out in undisguised pride at the name-drop, “—can be pretty competitive when it comes to student directors helming its shows. A lot of it is new work, which can be such a crap-shoot. I prefer reinterpreting older works like Rent, Chicago. The second wave of musicals.” 

Kitty leaned against the wall, taking advantage of the singing break. She couldn’t help smiling at the situation. She was possibly the only one in the show who knew about the mysterious, new guy, and he was casually confiding in her! 

“Did you always know you wanted to be a director?” Kitty asked. 

“No, I figured it out in college actually. Before that, I dabbled in photography. Still do, but directing is more of a challenge. It feels right.”

Frederick’s face was overtaken by a full smile and though it was not directed at her, Kitty felt a sort of specialness that she was getting to bask in his obvious passion for directing. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as if he was embarrassed to be caught being so enthusiastic. It made him even more appealing. 

“I’m talking too much. How about you? You say this is your first show, so when did you realize you wanted to act?” 

“Um, I think around May? Mom showed me some TCM musicals, and I was hooked. I kinda wanted to be like them, you know. All elegant and suave with the right line for everything,” she said. 

“Show off your pipes,” Frederick added and Kitty’s cheeks flushed again at his attention. 

“That too. I guess I’m like every other actor in the world. I want to wear pretty clothes with the spotlight on me.” 

“That’s because you’re the youngest right? I heard you had other sisters running around here. Mr. Willoughby said one of them was the best in his public speaking class.” 

“Yep, that would be Mary. She transferred last year. Before that it was Elizabeth, and Jane.” 

“Youngest child syndrome,” Frederick confirmed knowingly. 

“Second youngest,” she corrected. 

He raised his eyebrow. 

“I have four sisters. Yes, my parents love each other very much.” 

That earned a bark of laughter, “Youngest, second youngest. You weren’t the middle child to me yesterday. You were the only one worth watching in the room.”

“Oh please.” Kitty batted his arm. She’d thought as much since she was the only one he applauded, but she loved hearing it confirmed. 

“It’s true! You were confident, and having fun. All those other kids can be so polished, trying to show off how versatile they are.”

“Thank you,” Kitty said, resisting the urge to fan the hot blush on her cheeks. 

Then there was a pregnant pause when she expected him to continue with their lesson. He looked at her a cat studying a mouse, curious and amused. He lifted his hand as if he was about to brush her cheek. 

Was he going to kiss me? The butterflies multiplied ten-fold, and she held herself still, too nervous to lean into it and break the moment. With a flick of his wrist, he turned to get his phone out of his pocket.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Of course. Why would I hold his attention more than his phone? 

“Do you still do photography?” Kitty asked, and winced. He was clearly done with their lesson yet she didn’t want it to end. He was someone new and mysterious in this same-old town and he was the first person that knew her, and only her without comparison to her sisters. 

“My mother is a patron for various arts benefits. She convinced a friend of hers to allow me to put up an exhibit at the end of the year. My theme is vintage beauty influenced and co-opted by contemporary beauty standards.” 

He leaned close to her again, holding out his phone for both of them to see. Kitty leaned in, but made sure that she was hovering, not brushing any part of his body. Even though she wanted to.

The sleek screen displayed a collage of photos on a white desk. It looked minimalist until Frederick zoomed in on one of the photos in the center. “Sorry, I don’t have any of the photos here. I use a Nikon for my shoots, but Mother wanted to check on my progress. This one is my favorite.” 

He enlarged the black and white photo showcasing a brunette with her face in profile and her back toward the camera as she lounged on a settee chair. A backless, diaphanous white gown shimmered in contrast to the grey background and the model’s raven hair. It outlined the impossible slimness of her figure, but Kitty was drawn to the peek-a-boo bangs nearly covering the woman’s eye. 

“She looks a bit like Veronica Lake,” Kitty murmured. 

“Exactly! You’re the first one who got who I’m referencing.” Frederick grasped her wrist in excitement and her chest burst with mini-fireworks. 

“Like I said, I love TCM. I don’t see how it’s contemporary though,” Kitty said too breathlessly, her wrist unnaturally still as if she had a butterfly on her wrist and didn’t want to scare it away. 

But Frederick released his grasp anyway, oblivious to her silent sigh of disappointment. “I plan to show the evolution so this photo is a straight-up recreation of early Hollywood, then I’ll show the change in the sixties and seventies, and then recreate the photos with a modern lens.” 

“Sounds brilliant!” Kitty nodded eagerly though she couldn’t quite grasp the concept. She didn’t see much of a difference between beauty in the 1930s, ’40s, and ’50s in comparison to today. Short hair was still in. Skinny was still in. It was the clothing that evolved to show off leaner figures rather than curvy hourglasses, and bare much more skin. 

“Thank you. I think our hour is nearly up and we’ll work again on Monday after rehearsals. I know you don’t feel it, but breathing practice will make you a better singer. Keep working on it over the weekend.” Frederick held his hand out expectantly. 

“Your phone?’ He prompted, “Since this is between us, we’ll need a way to stay in touch.” 

“Su-sure,” Kitty clumsily fumbled through her bag before giving him her phone with the non-customized case it came with. She internally cursed at the familiar feel of her blushing cheeks. 

He’s just asking your number for lessons. Chill!

But he didn’t seem to notice her flustered state as he continued to talk, “I know this is unorthodox, and this will probably get me in trouble, but for you it’s worth it.” 

“It is?” she said a bit too breathlessly. 

“There are some born to shine who can’t do it alone. Think of me as your key to the next level,” He winked, handing the phone back to her. She glanced at the contact he labeled for himself before slipping it into her bag. 

Music of the Night.  

Kitty couldn’t contain her smile. It was a reference to the most romantic song from Phantom of the Opera. It was perfect. 

“Yes, I’ll be there. Thank you so much again.” Kitty gushed, and picked up her bag, trying to ignore the insistent bump of her heart as he held open the door for her. 

Damn crush!