Victoria Kimble - The Main Dish: A Novel

A NOVEL

VICTORIA KIMBLE

NEW YORK

LONDONNASHVILLEMELBOURNEVANCOUVER

The Main Dish

A Novel

2020 Victoria Kimble

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meanselectronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or otherexcept for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Published in New York, New York, by Morgan James Publishing. Morgan James is a trademark of Morgan James, LLC. www.MorganJamesPublishing.com

ISBN 9781642797794 paperback

ISBN 9781642797800 eBook

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019949508

Cover Design by:

Megan Dillon

Interior Design by:

Chris Treccani

www.3dogcreative.net

Morgan James is a proud partner of Habitat for Humanity Peninsula and Greater Williamsburg. Partners in building since 2006.

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I may have come up with the story, but the real credit to any novel goes to a whole village of people.

To my husband Lee, for allowing me to create space to write by jumping in a taking over so many of the morning tasks.

To my parents Jim and Cindy, for truly believing in every single word I write.

To the 209, the Storyteller Squad, for pouring over all these words and making them so much better. Also, for being willing to listen to the ups and downs and to constantly cheer this book on.

To Taylor Bennett and her lovely mom Terry, for the foodie ideas and inspiration. I dream of actually eating your amazing creations one day.

To the Monday Night Bible Study gals, for faithfully praying this story would find a home, and for acting interested in all the details when you really had no idea what I was talking about.

To Terry Whalin, for believing in the concept from the moment you heard it and pursuing this story with such diligence and persistence. Also, for patiently answering my many questions.

To the fantastic team at Morgan James Publishing, for their patience with me and for their enthusiasm for this project.

E mbarrassment was not a good look on me.

My best friend Jillian looked like an innocent model whenever she blushed. Me, on the other hand? My whole face turned splotchy and my zits shone like Christmas lights. I tried curling up in the hard, plastic chair to make myself small and unnoticeable, but that didnt stop everyone in the community college lobby from staring. I couldnt decide whether I should be utterly mortified or just plain annoyed. Knowing my face was now a disaster didnt help either. The last thing I needed to worry about was how I looked. I needed to concentrate on the piece I had been practicing for the past two months.

If only Mom had let me drive myself. I was way too old to have my mommy drive me to auditions. If I had my own car, she wouldnt always feel compelled to hang out and wait for me. Maybe she would even stop with the whole Youre a minor, Scarlet and Im legally responsible stuff. Its ridiculous.

I stood, straightened my skirt, and marched over to the table where Mom grilled the poor, harried-looking volunteer. I grabbed her elbow and opened my eyes wide, trying to communicate telepathically. As usual, she didnt get the message.

I wished Mrs. Chen had been with me right then. She could have rescued me from dying the slow death of shame, brought on by my own mother. Mom always listened to her. But Mrs. Chen was gone. Her last speech still echoed in my mind: Scarlet Williams, dont hide behind your violin. Speak up for yourself. You can talk to people with the same boldness you use to play that piece of wood.

Mom.

Mom turned and frowned. I just want to know why theyre running twenty minutes behind schedule. Thats not unreasonable.

The volunteer gave a tight smile and sat up straighter. Its like I told you, Mrs. Williams. Sometimes they ask to hear a bit more from a musician. We have a great talent pool today, so it probably means theyre asking almost everyone to play something else.

I tugged on Moms arm and pulled her away from the table. I sent an apologetic glance to the volunteer who slumped in his chair and smiled back. He could read my mind, and we werent even related.

They should have put that information in the audition packet. Mom plopped down onto the plastic chair she had claimed when we first arrived and reached for the red folder in her black tote. Is it in the audition packet? Did you know, Scar? Its not fair if you didnt have that information.

I lowered myself into my chair, careful not to bump my violin on the metal armrest. Mother, I have more than one piece memorized. If they ask for something else, Ill play the Jurassic Park theme song.

Mom dropped the packet onto her lap and turned, her mouth in a half-frown. I sighed and rolled my eyes. See, I could read my mothers mind. I knew exactly what she was thinking and exactly what she was about to say. She had said it a hundred times over the past few years.

Sweetie, they are looking for more than silly movie songs. They need to see your technique and your grasp of complicated music. You have that. You are good enough for this. If you want them to take you seriously, you have to play serious music.

Yep, thats what I expected. Well, if she was going to say the same thing again, I would also say the same thing. Again .

John Williams is one of the most prolific composers of our time. Even if hes not better than the old, dead guys, hes definitely not worse. I carefully brushed my hair back over my shoulder. I really didnt want it messed up before the audition. Any sudden movement might undo the hours of work I had put into taming my unruly brown curls.

Im aware of his accomplishments. But these judges are probably old like me, and us old people like the old dead guys. Mom crossed her eyes. I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling. I didnt want to encourage Moms corny jokes. Cant you play that Beethoven piece?

I heaved out the biggest sigh I could muster. Ill do the Vivaldi.

Mom sat back and smiled. She didnt say anything; she just stared at me, grinning. The feeling that she was about to kiss me or something grew strong. Embarrass Scarlet, round two. I shifted in my seat to put some distance between us.

What?

Im just so proud of you. Look at you! Youre the youngest one here. She squeezed my arm.

I couldnt stop the smile this time. The room was filled with musicians who all waited to audition for the Summerset Festival community orchestra. People came from all over the state of Colorado for the one-day festival that our town of Snowberry held every August. The concert the orchestra gave at the outdoor amphitheater in the evening was the best attended event of the year.

Oh, wait. She looks young. Mom nodded in the direction of the main doors.

I glanced at the younger woman on the other side of the room, then bit my cheek to keep from laughing. Mom. Shes probably thirty years old.

Mom wrinkled her brow. No way. She looks younger than that. How can you tell?

Her music bag has the University of Colorado logo on it. Only old people trying to look young carry around university stuff.

Well, shes listening to music on her phone through ear buds. Only young people own ear buds.

I did laugh then, but no one seemed to care. Normal kids might have been intimidated by the thought of auditioning with adults who had been playing their instruments longer than they had been alive. Not to brag or anything, but I wasnt. Playing the violin had always felt as natural as breathing, from the first time I picked it up in Mrs. Chens living room. She had been tough, but I sailed through the leveled books anyway.