Read Online My Own True Love by Susan Sizemore - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susan Sizemore
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she make someone who had never known anything but poverty and prejudice understand? "I have to."
"Mother Cummings won't like it." He brushed his hand through her curls. "Beng won't like it."
"I don't care."
He touched the tip of her chin. "I can tell. I can read your stubbornness right there."
"Help me," she pleaded.
"Toma!" Beth warned.
He sighed, then nodded. "How?"
She would have thrown her arms around him if it hadn't meant dropping the guitar. "1 need somewhere to play," she explained. "Some way to get paid for it. I think you English call it busking. You know, being a street musician. I've seen people do it in Dinkytown back home, over by the university, and in Seattle, but ! don't know where your equivalent of Pike Place Market is, so—"
"Sara?" This time he did shake her. "What are you talking about? Where are these places?" He touched the bag, sounding a muffled thrum from the bass string. "Guitar?" She nodded. "Can you really play the thing?"
Sara had to battle a combination of uncertainty and hard-earned, private pride before she could raise her head and say, "Of course."
Toma gave a curt nod. "Very well. Come with me."
She followed him to the steps behind the stage where Sandor waited, shifting nervously from foot to foot.
Sandor frowned at her and said to Toma, "Big crowd for the last day. Ready?"
"Not yet," Toma said. He pulled Sara up the steps. They were standing on the stage before she realized what he was doing. A burst of applause froze her in place. She couldn't bring herself to look out at the audience not twenty feet away.
"What are you doing?" she whispered at Toma.
He made a sweeping gesture toward the crowd. "You said you wanted to play."
"Not here. Not now!"
"If not here, where? If not now, when?" the ring piped up.
"I don't need any comments from you, thank you!"
"I didn't say anything."
"I wasn't talking to you!" Sara heard the panic in her voice and tried to get the better of it. "I mean, aren't you supposed to go on now?"
Toma left her to walk to the front of the stage. While Sara watched in horror, he bowed to the audience, then announced, "A fine gypsy musician to entertain you while I prepare for the death-defying feats to come." He glanced back at her for an instant, smiling encouragement. "Ladies and gentlemen," he went on to the waiting audience, "the incomparable Sara!"
As he stepped back there was a sprinkling of applause. She could feel people staring, waiting, but she couldn't look at them. She took a step forward, then another. She took the guitar from the bag without quite realizing she was doing it. Her blood felt frozen in her veins. It was the same cold fear of facing an audience that she'd always had, but this time she couldn't let it matter. The ring was right, as much as she hated to admit it. She had to do it. Her future in the past depended on it. She looked into Toma's eyes once more as she made it all the way to the front of the stage. He had given her a chance. She had to do it for him. He was there for her no matter what.
Nothing else matters, she thought. Which was also the title of a painfully beautiful love song she just happened to know how to play acoustically. It was as if Toma's caring fueled her courage. She didn't let herself think about the crowd as she began to play.
Toma wasn't anywhere in sight when she finished the song. She'd gone through it by rote, without any great feeling, but at least she'd gotten through it. A few people applauded. Sara looked up in surprise.
She was more than surprised. She liked it. She smiled.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?"
She ignored the ring, even if it did mirror her own thought. She managed to look at the audience for a second longer, and give them a shy smile. Then she lowered her head and played a folk song she hoped the people would find familiar. She played two more songs and got more enthusiastic response from the crowd before Toma came out carrying a round velvet cap in his hand. She watched in
"Mother Cummings won't like it." He brushed his hand through her curls. "Beng won't like it."
"I don't care."
He touched the tip of her chin. "I can tell. I can read your stubbornness right there."
"Help me," she pleaded.
"Toma!" Beth warned.
He sighed, then nodded. "How?"
She would have thrown her arms around him if it hadn't meant dropping the guitar. "1 need somewhere to play," she explained. "Some way to get paid for it. I think you English call it busking. You know, being a street musician. I've seen people do it in Dinkytown back home, over by the university, and in Seattle, but ! don't know where your equivalent of Pike Place Market is, so—"
"Sara?" This time he did shake her. "What are you talking about? Where are these places?" He touched the bag, sounding a muffled thrum from the bass string. "Guitar?" She nodded. "Can you really play the thing?"
Sara had to battle a combination of uncertainty and hard-earned, private pride before she could raise her head and say, "Of course."
Toma gave a curt nod. "Very well. Come with me."
She followed him to the steps behind the stage where Sandor waited, shifting nervously from foot to foot.
Sandor frowned at her and said to Toma, "Big crowd for the last day. Ready?"
"Not yet," Toma said. He pulled Sara up the steps. They were standing on the stage before she realized what he was doing. A burst of applause froze her in place. She couldn't bring herself to look out at the audience not twenty feet away.
"What are you doing?" she whispered at Toma.
He made a sweeping gesture toward the crowd. "You said you wanted to play."
"Not here. Not now!"
"If not here, where? If not now, when?" the ring piped up.
"I don't need any comments from you, thank you!"
"I didn't say anything."
"I wasn't talking to you!" Sara heard the panic in her voice and tried to get the better of it. "I mean, aren't you supposed to go on now?"
Toma left her to walk to the front of the stage. While Sara watched in horror, he bowed to the audience, then announced, "A fine gypsy musician to entertain you while I prepare for the death-defying feats to come." He glanced back at her for an instant, smiling encouragement. "Ladies and gentlemen," he went on to the waiting audience, "the incomparable Sara!"
As he stepped back there was a sprinkling of applause. She could feel people staring, waiting, but she couldn't look at them. She took a step forward, then another. She took the guitar from the bag without quite realizing she was doing it. Her blood felt frozen in her veins. It was the same cold fear of facing an audience that she'd always had, but this time she couldn't let it matter. The ring was right, as much as she hated to admit it. She had to do it. Her future in the past depended on it. She looked into Toma's eyes once more as she made it all the way to the front of the stage. He had given her a chance. She had to do it for him. He was there for her no matter what.
Nothing else matters, she thought. Which was also the title of a painfully beautiful love song she just happened to know how to play acoustically. It was as if Toma's caring fueled her courage. She didn't let herself think about the crowd as she began to play.
Toma wasn't anywhere in sight when she finished the song. She'd gone through it by rote, without any great feeling, but at least she'd gotten through it. A few people applauded. Sara looked up in surprise.
She was more than surprised. She liked it. She smiled.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?"
She ignored the ring, even if it did mirror her own thought. She managed to look at the audience for a second longer, and give them a shy smile. Then she lowered her head and played a folk song she hoped the people would find familiar. She played two more songs and got more enthusiastic response from the crowd before Toma came out carrying a round velvet cap in his hand. She watched in
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