Free This Could Have Been Our Song!: A coulda woulda shoulda ballad by Danielle-Claude Ngontang Mba Page A

actually chatting with me. See you this afternoon.
                  Are you bringing anything today? I suddenly feel like eating one of your famous apple strudel s .
                   Marcu s .
     
    I need a drink and not a cup of tea. It’s our second day of interviewing backup singers and Matt has been driving us mad. None of them are good enough for him and so far we have heard over thirty auditions and have chosen none. Lucia silently keeps putting notes in her laptop. She came with a lemon, poppy-seed muffin basket this morning; not apple strudels, but delicious nonetheless. She’s completely concentrated on her writing from what I can see, her profile. Her hair looks very…youthful today. Two cornrow braids, one of each side, and she’s wearing a simple, black tank top and dark-blue jeans. I can’t help smiling; she’s still wearing my charm bracelet.
    The four of us in the studio for the past three hours is starting to take a toll on all of us, except Lucia. Matt ’s pretty much stopped listening to the singers; Beesly, so dedicated a couple of hours ago, is now just following Matt’s lead before saying anything. I’m no better; I can’t remember how good or bad the five we heard were.
    Lucia presses the button to speak to our thirty-something audition. “Thank you, Mira. We’ll let you know our decision soon,” she tells her. She writes more notes. “I think we need a break,” she adds as the singer lets herself out of booth. “So, Matt, what did you think?” She turns to me. “Marcus?” Then Beesly. “Beesly?”
    “ Off key, like the others,” Matt says.
    “ I agree. We need a break,” Beesly, the peacemaker, answers.
    “ Not sure. Her voice was fine,” I tell Matt. I turn to Lucia. “A break would be fantastic. I don’t think she fits for what we’re working on right now.”
    “ Yes, I agree,” she tells me with a small smile. That’s a surprise! First smile in a month. She gets up and closes her laptop. “I think we’re done here.”
    I spoke too quickly. We can ’t be done; we haven’t decided on anyone yet. Matt looks at me. I know this look; it’s the do-something-now look. Beesly looks at Lucia, waiting for the next bomb to drop I’m sure.
    “ The hell we are!” Matt yells. Not what I would have done. “I haven’t decided on anyone yet,” he adds. Again, not what I would have done.
    “ Lucia, what’s going on?” I ask her. I know we still have about a dozen singers to see. I come closer. “Are you trying to make our lives even more hellish?” I add, lower.
    “ That’s yours and Matt’s job not mine,” she whispers. She faces the couple. “Let’s meet in two hours and discuss it further.” She turns to me one last time. “Things always look better on a full stomach.” She opens the door and turns back. “Beesly, you’re coming? I know this great place not far from here,” she says with a bright smile. Beesly happily leaves the room with her. Nicely played Lucia, leaving me with grumpy.
    “ Okay, Matt, I need a drink and I’m sure you need one as well. So, let’s go.”
    “ How about two, mate!” he laughs and heads to the exit. “My treat.”
    I stop in my tracks. Matt ’s generosity is never a good sign. What’s he up to now? We walk to the elevator together. Matt is texting. Again, he has been doing that quite a bit this morning. He smiles and turns to me as we get inside. “The car is waiting for us downstairs,” he says.
    I press the lobby button. “Already?” 
    “ They have been waiting for about twenty minutes,” he says.
    They? Who the blood hell are they? “Who’s they?” I ask.
    “ The car.” He reaches for his ciggies. “And Johnny.”             
    The elevator opens to the lobby. As soon as we get outside, he lights up. We get in the car and John is right there on his phone.
    “Carosa restaurant please,” I tell the driver. “Hi, Johnny.”
    “ About time you showed up,” John says.