The Metropolis Case_ A Novel - Matthew Gallaway [62]
As Maria finished her song, Anna knew she would do everything in her power to bring this girl to New York and, with any luck, transform her into a singer for the history books. It hardly needed to be said that she would never whisper a word to anyone about a biological relationship; this was not a second chance to be a mother but a first to be a teacher. Anna dried her eyes, ran her fingers through her hair—these days she kept it short—and repositioned her scarf around her shoulders. She felt something familiar pass through her, a queasy sense of anticipation, and realized that she was quietly singing to herself, just as she had always done in her career during those excruciating, delirious minutes before taking the stage.
18
The Psychology of the Transference
PITTSBURGH, 1977. After winning the Heinz Recitals, Maria—with Kathy Warren’s help—prepared her application for Juilliard. She recorded a selection of songs and arias, and in early September sent them in with the necessary forms and essays. Less than a week later, Anna called to let her know that everything was in order. “We’re inviting you to audition. The committee was very impressed …”
Maria had not enjoyed the recording process, particularly the playback, which to her ear made her voice sound shrill and forced. “Really? I thought the tapes were”—she caught herself before she said “crappy” and substituted—“less than outstanding.” When she spoke to Anna, she liked to think she had swallowed a pill that had already transformed her into the famous singer she wanted to become.
A few days later, Anna called again to inform Maria about a few administrative details pertaining to the audition before she asked about Gina. “Will your mother be coming to New York?”
To Maria’s consternation, the two women had developed a surprising rapport at the awards ceremony and had talked several times since about tuition and other practical arrangements. “She might,” Maria answered, “although she hasn’t mentioned it.”
“Please let her know that I’d be happy to answer any questions,” Anna offered.
“Okay,” Maria responded, “but—just so you know—my mother doesn’t really like New York, and Kathy’s been there, so—” Maria realized as she said this that she didn’t want her mother to go, and she wanted to see how Anna would react to this possibility.
“Whatever you and your mother decide is fine with me,” Anna said in an efficient tone that left Maria with the impression she wouldn’t interfere.
After hanging up, Maria went into the kitchen, where Gina was making dinner. “That was Anna,” she said, as she sat down and absently began to shred a napkin. “She wants to know if you’re coming to New York.”
“I will if you want me to.”
“Well, sure, but I didn’t think you really wanted to go, and well—since Kathy’s driving, I already asked her.”
Gina frowned. “I’m sure Kathy would be happy to drive both of us.” She sighed as she set down her spoon and walked toward the door. “But if you don’t want me to go, just say so.”
“I didn’t say that,” insisted Maria, annoyed that Gina was taking this in exactly the wrong way.
“Then what are you saying?”
“I don’t know—just that it might be easier if—”
“Does that sound like an invitation to you?”
Maria shook her head but, having gone this far, found herself unable to stop. “I think it might be better if we all went up together after the audition, if I get in.”
“Honey, you’re getting in,” Gina muttered as she tossed a dish towel on the counter and left for the living room. “But if you don’t want me there, that’s fine. Just let me know if you need any help from your mother before you leave.”
Maria had second thoughts and chased after Gina. “Are you really upset? Because if you are, I could call Anna and make sure—”
“I’m not upset, Maria. Please—just do what you have to.” Gina paused. “I mean it.”
This thin display of stoicism provided the justification Maria had been looking for all along, so with equally exaggerated pretense, she stormed off to her bedroom.
An hour or so later,