She practiced every single evening that week.
Some nights she got so frustrated she cried. One night she threw her shoe across the living room and then went and picked it up and apologized to it, which made all three of us laugh.
Scott rearranged his whole schedule with his boss so he could drive her to Westbrook himself on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. He sat in the lobby the entire time and watched her through the glass. He brought a book he never once opened.
I drove her to Ms. Alvarez’s private sessions on Tuesday and Thursday nights, even though it meant leaving the hospital at four-thirty and making up the hours on Saturday mornings.
Westbrook’s office manager, a kind woman named Patrice, called me that week.
“Mrs. Hayes, Ms. Alvarez told me what happened. We’re crediting your account for the two weeks Audrey missed. That’s $35 back on next month’s tuition. It’s not much. But we wanted to do something.”
“It’s more than you had to do,” I said.
“And Mrs. Hayes? I’ve already updated the pickup list on Audrey’s file. Only you and Mr. Hayes. Nobody else. If anybody else ever shows up for her, we call you first.”
On Saturday morning, Audrey auditioned.
I wasn’t allowed in the room. I sat in the lobby with Scott, on the same bench where she’d done her homework alone for two weeks, and held his hand so tight he winced.
When she came out, her face was red and sweaty and completely unreadable.
“Well?” Scott said.
“They post the list on Wednesday,” Audrey said. Then she grinned. “But I didn’t fall.”
On Wednesday afternoon, my phone buzzed at my desk at St. Luke’s.
It was a photo. The cast list for the spring recital, taped to the glass of Studio B.
Halfway down the page, in black ink: “Audrey Hayes — Waltz of the Flowers (Featured).”
Under the photo, Audrey had typed one word in all capital letters.
“MOM!!!!!!”
I locked my office door and cried at my desk for ten minutes.
Laura called me a few days later.
She told me she and Derek were seeing a marriage counselor. She told me Mia had found out what her father did and hadn’t spoken to him in a week.
“Mia always wanted Audrey to do well,” Laura said. “She was so proud of her for getting in. She told everybody at school. This was Derek’s jealousy. Not Mia’s. Never Mia’s.”
“I know,” I said. “Tell Mia that Audrey knows that too. She just needs some time before she’s ready to see her.”
“Of course,” Laura said softly. “Of course she does.”
Sophia Rivers is an experienced News Content Editor with a sharp eye for detail and a passion for delivering accurate and engaging news stories. At TheArchivists, she specializes in curating, editing, and presenting news content that informs and resonates with a global audience.
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