Playing the Game

Playing the Game

JL Paul

Smashwords Edition © 2011 JL
Paul

All rights reserved
worldwide.
No part of this ebook may be
copied or sold
or distributed without
prior written permission -- if you have this file (or a printout)
and didn't pay for it, you are depriving the author and publisher
of their rightful royalties.

All characters in this book
are entirely imaginary and any resemblance to persons living or
dead or actual events is purely coincidental.

Republished 2011

Chapter One

Skipping like an idiot to the mailbox, I
gathered the conglomeration of bills and junk mail in my hands,
thumbing through the stack without much care.

“
Bills, bills, bills,” I
bellowed as I walked through the door, trying to sound like my dad.
It didn’t work, of course, but it usually cracked him up. Dumping
the mail into his lap, I purposely ignored the television. He was
watching baseball and I’d developed a dislike for that particular
sport years ago.

“
This is one is for you,
Miss Aubrey Rose,” my dad said.

Frowning, I snatched the envelope from his
outstretched hand. Probably another application my mother had sent
to some production or other. She always used my full name. I hated
that.

The return address was
from
American Star: Indianapolis
and I just rolled my eyes. She’d sent tapes
to
American Star: Dallas, American Star:
L.A. and American Star: Orlando
. And all
we got back in return were polite rejection letters.

“
You gonna open that?” my
dad asked, eyeing me furtively. I shrugged, brow lifted. Since when
did it matter to him whether or not some talent reality show wanted
me to audition? Baseball was on and the rest of the world could go
to hell for all he cared. “You might as well open it now before
your mother gets home.”

Sinking to the sofa, I tore open the
envelope. The crisp, white letterhead suddenly felt heavy in my
hands. I shook it open and allowed my eyes to roam over the
words.

Miss Aubrey Rose Quinn,

Thank you for your recent
submission to
American
Star: Indianapolis.

After viewing your tape, we would like for
you to audition in person. Please contact us at the number below to
set up an audition time.

I skimmed through the rest of the letter,
not believing I had actually made it that far.

“
Hmph,” I said. My father
turned his eyes from the television to give me a thoughtful glance.
“They want me to audition.”

“
Wonderful,” he said.
Someone on the television had hit the ball so I wasn’t sure if he
meant me or the player. I couldn’t blame him, really. I’d been to
many auditions and had participated in a ton of productions. It was
pretty much old news to him.

“
Mom will be happy,” I
sighed. I knew I should be excited but I couldn’t be. Not yet.
Auditions didn’t mean anything. It was the call backs that
mattered. Still, I set the letter on the coffee table and trudged
up the steps to my room. Clearing my throat, I began the scales my
mother insisted I do every day, sometimes more than once, before
jumping into other warm-up exercises.

My mother ruled my life entirely. Granted, I
was of legal age, twenty-one years-old in fact, but still under her
thumb. Ever since my music teacher extolled my talent after a third
grade musical, my mother had plunged me into the world of music.
For the most part, I did enjoy it. I often dreamt of a career on a
stage, singing for thousands of fans. But it hadn’t happened yet
and sometimes, I longed for a real life.

During my high school years, I’d had a real
life. Sort of. I was allowed to go out with friends on the weekends
that Mom didn’t have auditions lined up for me. And I was allowed
to date.

I cringed. I wouldn’t
think of
him
. Mom
hadn’t approved of him and maybe that was what had attracted me to
him at first. Yes, he was extremely good-looking and popular and
athletic. But I had found there to be more to him on the inside.
During the entire relationship, I was the popular, peppy,
happy
girl.

My happiness had ended
when he graduated. Oh, we'd tried to stay together but then
baseball
had stepped in
and became his love. I’m sure the love was there all along, hiding
behind the love he'd professed to have for me. But baseball won and
I lost and we all moved on. End of story.

And I didn’t want to think
of
him
anymore.

My mother came home an hour later. I didn’t
hear her car but I did hear her excited scream. Rolling my eyes, I
planted a smile on my face, and raced down the stairs.

“
Aubrey Rose! Oh baby!
This is your shot!” My mother always said this but the look in her
eyes confirmed she actually meant it this time.

“
Sure, Mom,” I grinned.
“It’s exciting.”

“
I’ll call them now,” she
said, running to grab the cordless. “I’ll set it up as soon as
possible.”

And then I heard
his
name on the
television.

“
Jess Rivers has lasted
seven quality innings. We’ll see if Lou Harding lets him continue.
The pitcher's spot is due up third and if Lou sticks a pinch hitter
in, we’ll know Rivers is done. We’ll be back after
this.”

How stupid was I? I always ignored baseball
to the point of staying out of the room when Dad watched it.

My traitorous eyes darted to the TV and
caught a glimpse of him stalking toward the dugout before the
station cut to commercial. My eyes flickered to my dad and for a
brief second I saw the horror on his face. He replaced it quickly
with a sympathetic smile. I returned it before scampering off after
my mother.

I found her in the kitchen, talking to
someone on the phone so I dropped into a chair and pretended to
listen. My mind wasn't on her conversation, though. It was on the
little look I got of Jess Rivers that had sent my heart to my toes.
He'd looked just as wonderful as I remembered; even more so. The
longing was nearly overpowering and it took my breath away. It’d
been years – five actually - since I’d last been in his arms.

“
Okay, honey,” my mother
said as soon as she clicked off the phone. “We have two weeks to
prepare.” Her eyes sparkled pure energy and I knew it was going to
be a long two weeks. “We need to select your music immediately and
figure out your wardrobe.”

I nodded as she continued with her list of
things to do. I’d been through this before so I was able to inject
the appropriate answers in the appropriate places with not much
effort.

Once we went through her list two more times
and she confirmed that I was doing my daily exercises, she excused
me so she could make her phone calls. I knew the first would be to
my sister, Gwen.

Gwen was five years older than me and sort
of the black sheep of the family. It wasn’t fair and I probably
knew it better than anyone but her. When I was much, much younger,
I had totally been a daddy’s girl. My mother already had a little
princess in Gwen so my dad was content to take me fishing and to
ball games.

And I was happy. I had trailed after him in
the garage, shop rag shoved in my back pocket just like him and
grease smeared on my face. In the winter, my mother would often
have to shake me awake after I’d fallen asleep squeezed beside him
on his recliner watching Monday Night Football. She’d just sigh,
shake her head, and run off to sew another dress for Gwen.

Then, in third grade, I tried out for the
school play. It was a musical celebrating fairy tales and my music
teacher had assigned me the lead. My voice had been good back then,
even though it was still immature and untrained. But I had caught
my mother’s attention. Suddenly, she had a star. Gwen, who never
really showed interest in anything but boys, had been pushed to the
backburner. I became everyone’s girl while she was…well…still
Gwen.

And I loved her fiercely as only a little
sister could. I admired her, too, for her bravery. She'd left our
family home after receiving an Associates degree and moved in with
her boyfriend. It had horrified my mother enough to distract her
from me for two weeks and I'd called Gwen every night to thank her.
She'd just laughed and told me to get my ass back to work. Oddly
enough, Gwen wanted me to succeed as much as my mother, if not
more. She was just a little more reasonable about it.

She was my only friend, too. As I said
before, I didn’t really have a life and the few friends I did make
were all in the same business as me and therefore always busy. But
Gwen made time for me. I truly didn’t deserve her. She laughed
every time I told her that which in turn made me laugh. That’s one
of the things I loved most about her. She made it her personal duty
to keep me real.

I listened on the top of the stairs and as
soon as my mother ended her call, I raced to my room to call Gwen
on my cell.

“
What took you so long?”
she asked.

“
Please,” I
snorted.

“
Good job,” she said and I
knew she meant it. Gwen didn’t mince words.

“
Thanks,” I
grumbled.

“
Okay, what’s the
matter?”

“
Baseball.”

“
Oh. Did you see him on TV
tonight?”

“
Only for a second. But it
was enough.” I sighed dramatically. Maybe I should go into
acting.

“
Call him, Aubrey, geez,”
she said. “He’s in Indy and Mom’s not dragging you all over God’s
green earth.”

“
No.”

“
You do need a life. That
woman hardly allows you to have friends. You’re twenty-one, you
know.”

She was right, like always, and I knew it.
But what could I do? “I’m not calling him. I’m not going back
there.”

“
Aubrey, you know deep
down he had a point. Geez, you were just kids.” I could hear her
light a cigarette which signaled that she was upset. She rarely
smoked.

“
And things have changed
since then.” I groaned. “You know it would be nice if I could get a
job or something. I mean, I’m not complaining about all Mom’s done
but I’m not getting any younger and I have nothing to fall back
on.” It was a complaint Gwen had heard from my lips before. “The
only education I have is performing arts classes.”

“
I agree, kid,” she mused.
“If you ever get truly desperate, you can work for me.”

Gwen owned an antiques shop. It wasn’t
prosperous by any means but she enjoyed her work. I envied her
sometimes.

“
Can we just switch places
for awhile? I’m trying very hard not to whine here. I know I’m
lucky to be blessed with the voice I have, but sometimes I’d like
to just be a regular person.”

“
Not a chance in hell,”
she laughed. “We both have our roles in life; yours is to make the
parents proud and mine is to antagonize the hell out of
them.”

I couldn’t hold back the smile. Gwen had a
wonderfully succinct way of putting things into perspective. And
unfortunately, she was right once again. I was tired of always
doing what Mom wanted. I just wished I had the guts to be more like
Gwen.

“
I better go,” I murmured.
I could no longer hear my mother’s voice singing my praises. “I’ll
call you later.”

“
Sure, kid. Take care.
Love ya.”

“
I love you, too,” I said,
ending the call. I held my phone in my fist as I waited for Mom to
bellow for me. It didn’t take long. Running down the steps, I found
her standing in the living room. I took a chance and glanced at the
TV but the pitcher on the mound was not Jess Rivers. Obviously, he
hadn't been able to complete the game.

“
Once your father is
finished, we’re going out to celebrate. Please change into
something more appropriate,” she ordered. I resisted the urge to
roll my eyes as I ran back upstairs.

***

Later that night, I stared
at the ceiling as my thoughts once more turned to Jess. He’d been a
senior when I was a sophomore and he'd dazzled me like no other boy
had. I never could figure out why he wanted to be with someone like
me; I wasn’t the cheerleader type. I wasn’t
ugly
, per se, but I wasn’t a
sparkling, buxom beauty, either. He’d once told me that was one of
the reasons why he loved me. I was me – a short, brown-eyed
brunette who could belt out a tune not many could. He'd admired my
work ethic, even though it was mostly my mother’s work ethic, and
had always told me I’d go far.