A Simple Song (22 page)

“I don't think I care much for the English world,” she told him. “I like the people. But the fast way of life . . . the noise . . . the shiny, glitzy shallowness . . . I don't like it.”

He chuckled. “I'm sure a lot of English would agree with that.”

“Then why do they stay with it?” She pointed out to his fancy backyard. “Why do you?”

He shrugged. “I suppose it's not that different from heroin. It's an addiction.”

She suddenly felt sorry for him. “You asked if Mammi was happy in her life. Now I wonder how you would answer that same question.”

“Well . . . I made a lot of money. Especially considering I only have an eighth-grade Amish education.” He chuckled. “I own my own recording company. Live in a beautiful home. Have lots of impressive friends in the music industry. Happy?” He took in a deep breath, slowly exhaling. “Yeah, I guess so. Relatively happy.”

“What about God?” she asked. “Does he fit into your life?”

“That's a good question, Katrina.” Larry leaned back in his chair with his hands lying limply in his lap. “Maybe it's something I should give some thought to . . . especially seeing how I'm not getting any younger.”

Katrina could tell he was tired, and she suspected this conversation had been draining for him. Aunt Alma looked worn out too. Katrina thanked Larry for his hospitality and said it was time to go. As he walked them to the front door, he gave her what sounded almost like a warning. “I do wonder what Starla would say to you, Katrina. Have you ever considered what sort of advice she might give you?”

As they were being driven back to the hotel, Aunt Alma closed her eyes, but Katrina didn't think she was asleep. More likely she was thinking about what Larry had told them about Mammi. It was shocking to imagine that she'd been in love with a man who was a drug addict and had even become an addict herself. And then to lose the man she loved like that—it was all so sad and tragic. Now things were beginning to
make sense too. Katrina understood why Mammi had mostly buried her music, along with her past. It was probably too painful to take it with her. Yet she had still listened to her little radio. As much as she had appeared to despise music, she must have loved it too.

When Katrina and Aunt Alma got up to their room, they were surprised to discover that their key card no longer worked. Katrina knocked on the door, hoping Breezy would let them in, but no one answered. They went back downstairs and walked up to the big desk, but even before Katrina could explain, the woman began talking.

“Yes, I know who you are. Katrina Yoder, one of the top eight finalists of
American Star
. Congratulations. From here on out, you and your aunt have a private suite on the thirty-sixth floor. That's just one of the perks of the show. Your things have already been moved up there.” She handed her a new packet of plastic key cards. “You're in suite 3620.”

“A suite?” Katrina remembered the stylists' fancy rooms. “And you do not mean dessert either.”

She chuckled. “A suite is like a small apartment. Very comfortable, with two master bedrooms and a living room and kitchenette. Everything you need for the rest of the competition.”

“Oh . . . thank you.”

“By the way, Katrina, I noticed that you haven't had any additional expenses.”

“Additional expenses?”

“Room charges. You know, for food or the spa or salon or whatever. Your roommate had plenty of charges on her statement. But you don't have a single one.”

“
Ja
. That's a good thing.”

“No, that's not a good thing.
American Star
is covering the bill for your stay here, Katrina. They will pay for all your food and other expenses. Tell me, have you been paying for your own meals and laundry services and—”

“I do the laundry,” Aunt Alma explained. “And I go to the grocery store and I fix our food. Every day I do these things.”

“But you don't need to go to all that trouble,” the woman explained. “It's all covered by the show. Why not just enjoy our services and give yourselves a break?” She smiled at Aunt Alma. “We have some great restaurants in this hotel.”

“Thank you,” Katrina told her. “We'll keep that in mind.”

“I have something else for you too. The producer wanted to give it to you earlier, but you were out. I'll go get it.”

Katrina just nodded, waiting for the woman to return with whatever it was.

She came back with a large envelope that said
American Star
on the outside. “You'll have to sign for it.” The woman pointed to a place for Katrina to sign. “Have a nice evening,” she told her. “And good luck. I've been voting for you.”

“You have?”

The woman laughed. “Of course. You're the best singer on the show. I'm wagering that you'll win. You and Tyler.”

Katrina made a stiff smile and thanked her again. Then she and Aunt Alma rode the elevator again, this time to the thirty-
sixth floor. When they opened the door to their new room, they were stunned to see that it was as big as a house. “This is like where the stylists stay,” Katrina told her as they went in.

“So big.” Aunt Alma shook her head. “So extravagant.”

Katrina examined a basket of fruit and other food. “Look, this card says it's for us.”

“And these flowers too?” Aunt Alma sniffed. “I've never seen such fancy flowers. Have you?”

Katrina was opening the envelope now, removing a letter and what appeared to be a very large check. “Look,” she told her aunt. “The letter says that
American Star
wants to pay me for making the top eight. The full amount was fifty thousand dollars, but they've deducted the taxes so it's not as much.” She waved it in the air. “But it's still more than enough to pay for Daed's surgery.” She was dancing around the room now. “That means we can go home, Aunt Alma.”

“Truly?” Aunt Alma's eyes filled with tears. “We can go home?”

“I think so. Why else would they pay me this money now?”

Aunt Alma came to look at the check and the letter. “It says to call Brandy if you have questions.”

“
Ja
. I should do that.” While Aunt Alma was exploring the rooms, Katrina called Brandy—even using the hotel's phone since everything was supposed to be free.

“Yes,” Brandy told her. “We knew how badly you needed the money for your father's surgery, Katrina, so we made an exception to pay you early. You don't need to mention this to any of the other contestants. And we gave you a cashier's check so that you could sign it and send it to your family immediately. Just make sure that you send it registered mail to guarantee it arrives safely.”

“But since I am paid, I'd like to go home. Aunt Alma and I want to—”

“Katrina, you can't go home until the competition ends.”

“You are not sending me home?”

“No. Of course not. Remember how you signed a contract for the top eight? You are legally responsible to fulfill it. If you don't fulfill your contract, we cannot let you have that money. You do understand that, don't you?”

“Oh . . .” Katrina was trying to grasp this. “
Ja
, I remember now. I was just so excited that my father could have the surgery.”

“Yes. We hoped that would please you. We are all so thrilled with your performances, Katrina. This is our way of showing you our appreciation. I'm sorry you misunderstood and thought we were sending you home. Far from it.”

“
Ja
. I understand now.” Katrina felt like there was a rock in the pit of her stomach.

“I'm so looking forward to seeing your next performance. As you know, from here on out, it will only be solo performances. And I know you'll honor your contract and continue to give us your very best, Katrina. This is your chance to really shine.”

“How many more shows are there?” Katrina asked in a meek voice.

“Five more shows. Can you believe it? In less than two weeks, this season will end.”

“Two weeks . . .”

“Yes. Well, unless you have any other questions, I should probably take this call that's coming in.”

Katrina thanked her, then hung up. “Two more weeks.”

“I found our airplane tickets,” Aunt Alma said happily as
she emerged from one of the rooms. “They were in my bag, right where I left them.” She waved the envelope as she hurried over. “The hotel people put my things in one bedroom and yours in the other. But if we're going home, we won't—”

“You're going to have to go home without me,” Katrina said firmly.

“What?” Aunt Alma's smile faded.

“It's all right.” Katrina tried to sound happy. “I just talked to Brandy and it seems I need to stay a little longer. But I really want you to go home, Aunt Alma.” She handed her the check, making a plan as she spoke. “I need you to get this back home as soon as possible so that Daed can have his surgery. Brandy said I can sign the back of it and it is just like money. But we
need
you to take it there. It would be too dangerous to send this much money by mail.”

“Ja.”
She nodded. “You are probably right. But I cannot leave you—”

“You have to,” Katrina insisted. “You know that I'll be fine. I am perfectly safe in this hotel. And
American Star
will take good care of me. Plus, you heard them saying I can eat food at the hotel. They will even do my laundry.”

Aunt Alma was not easily convinced, but finally she agreed, and she and Katrina went back downstairs to get help with arranging the airline ticket. After that was settled, Katrina called the Zooks' guesthouse in Cleveland.

“Katrina Yoder!” Mrs. Zook exclaimed. “I am so happy to talk to you. We have been watching you on
American Star
. You have made us so proud.”

“Proud?”

“I guess that is the wrong word. I cannot describe it, Katrina. We are so happy. You are like a light shining in a dark place.”

“Thank you.” Katrina explained that Aunt Alma would be flying home on Monday. “Her flight gets in at night, so—”

“We will pick her up at the airport,” Mrs. Zook assured her. “You just give us the time and her flight numbers and we are happy to do this.”

“Thank you.” Katrina explained how her aunt needed to get home to take the check to Daed.

“We will drive her to wherever she needs to go,” Mrs. Zook said. Katrina started to protest, saying it was too much trouble, but Mrs. Zook insisted. “We are so happy to be a part of this, Katrina. You don't understand. And when you come home, we will go get you at the airport too, if that is all right with you.”

“
Ja
. I would love that. Thank you.”

“And if your family, or your settlement or district—if they do not welcome you back with open arms, we will welcome you, Katrina. You can become part of our family. You and your aunt.”

Although it warmed Katrina's heart to hear this, she hoped that it wouldn't be necessary. Still, she didn't know what would await her when she got home . . . if they would even want her to come home. After giving Mrs. Zook the information regarding Aunt Alma's travel to Cleveland, Katrina thanked her for her help and support.

“We are all voting for you,” Mrs. Zook told her.

Katrina knew she should feel encouraged by this, but she no longer cared if anyone voted for her. In fact, if people would stop voting for her, it seemed she would be allowed to go home sooner.

Before Aunt Alma left, Katrina asked her to promise something. “I want you to take the check straight to the hospital in Millersburg, where Daed is staying. I want you to pay the
people directly for what Daed needs. You do not need to tell my parents where the money came from . . . or even mention my name. I don't want them to refuse it or say that it's not honorable money. Do you understand?”

“
Ja
.” She nodded sadly. “I do.”

As relieved as Katrina was to receive the call from Bekka that Aunt Alma had made it safely back home and delivered the check to the hospital, she missed her aunt more than she could have imagined. Rambling around in the suite, practicing the song she planned to sing on Wednesday night, Katrina felt so lonely that she actually called Breezy's room.

“I miss you,” Katrina told her.

Breezy laughed. “I thought you'd be glad to be rid of me. I'm sure Alma was happy to part ways with my messes.”

Katrina explained that her aunt had gone home.

“Oh, so are you lonely?”

“
Ja
. . . a little.”

“Why don't you come visit me?” Breezy told her which suite she was in, and to Katrina's surprise it was only two doors down. When Breezy opened the door, Katrina was so happy to see her old roommate that she hugged her. It was even comforting to see Breezy's messiness again.

“I wanted to go home with Aunt Alma,” Katrina confessed as they sat on the big couch together, “but Brandy said the contract won't allow me to do that. So I'm stuck here.”

“Until they send you home, anyway.”

“I wish they would send me home.”

“Me too.” Breezy made a sheepish smile. “Sorry, that doesn't sound very nice, but if you were out of the picture, my chances would improve a lot.”

“You've been getting better and better,” Katrina told her. “I'm not the only one who thinks so.”

“Yes, but you're still the favorite. ‘The little Amish girl who sings like an angel,'” Breezy said teasingly. “But I should be thankful. My connection with you has probably helped me more than I care to admit.” She got a serious expression. “And I should thank you for being kind to me right from the start. You know that first night—when I went out partying and came home drunk as a skunk? I was certain you'd ask for a different roommate, and I even hoped that you would.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn't like the idea of rooming with some uptight Amish chick.”

Katrina frowned.

“Sorry. You're not like that. But at the time, when I met you and Alma, I thought someone was pulling a fast one on me.”

“What?”

“I figured you couldn't really sing and you were probably just something they'd dragged in to bring their ratings up. And I knew that when the camera crews came to my town, they saw that I was from a good Christian family and that I'd grown up singing in church—so I thought they stuck me with you to make us out to be the goody-goody girls. And that made me want to go out partying, you know, to prove that I wasn't.”

“I understand.”

“But you and your aunt got me up that morning—or I would've missed the first day and been kicked out. And then I heard you sing . . . and I realized you were going to be my competition.”

“Every girl here was your competition.”

“Yeah, but I could tell you were really good, Katrina. I knew I was good too, but I also knew I wasn't as good as you.”

“I disagree. When you really put your heart into it, you're great. And besides that, you know music. You can arrange it and write it and play it on your guitar. All I can do is learn a song and sing it.”

“But when you sing it”—Breezy shook her head—“you really sing it.” She chuckled. “That whole Amish bit doesn't hurt either.”

“I haven't told anyone, but I think I'm not going to go to the stylists for the rest of the competition,” she confided.

“Seriously?” Breezy looked shocked. “That could ruin it for you.”

“I want to be true to myself. No more compromising.”

“But what if it makes you lose?”

“Then I don't deserve to win.”

“You mean you don't
want
to win.” Breezy scowled. “I don't get that, Katrina. I mean, you've come this far. You've got voters out there who love you. You can't just roll over now. That seems unsportsmanlike, if you ask me.”

“You think I should compromise myself in order to win?” Katrina stood up now, pacing back and forth. “You think I should shave my legs and wear short skirts and face paint and tall-heeled shoes, even though it makes me feel like a liar and a fake? I should turn myself into something I am not in order to win a prize I don't want?”