Tenney

Ellie Cale

The next morning, Tenney restocks guitar strings at Dad’s store, slipping packets onto their hooks as she replays the Tri-Stars show. She got through both songs without a mistake and loved singing lead, but wishes she’d performed something of her own. When she asks Dad, punching numbers into a calculator behind the register, for a break to write, he waves her toward the listening room and her favorite guitar.

Tenney’s usual guitar is a “beater,” plain and scratched but reliable. Lately, she’s fallen for a mini Taylor, aquamarine with rosebuds and vines swirling around its body and a tiny songbird on the bridge. She carries it to the listening room, a small wood-lined nook in back where Dad taught her to play, and shuts the door.

Tenney plays through the melody first, working out two verses and a bridge into a chorus with a different feel. She hasn’t written lyrics yet, so she fills the gaps with “la-la-la.” The new guitar sounds richer than her beater, stirring up the joy and heartache she wants the song to carry.

A knock on the window startles Tenney so badly she drops her pick. A young woman with spiky dark hair peers in, a retro pink shawl over her tank top and jeans, hoop earrings glinting along one ear. She introduces herself as Ellie Cale, an A&R Coordinator with Mockingbird Records, handing over a card. Mason wanders up, teases that his sister must have been playing too loud, then calls her their little star and brags that she writes her own songs, too.

Ellie replies that she’d love to hear more. She caught Tenney’s Tri-Stars performance at East Park the day before and was struck by her voice, guitar skills, and stage presence. She’s impressed further to learn Tenney writes songs, too. She explains that Mockingbird hosts a new-talent showcase at the Bluebird Cafe twice a year, a rare chance to be heard by labels, and invites Tenney to perform an original song at the next one, a month away.

Tenney blurts out yes before she can think it through. Mason, buzzing, asks whether she could have a career in music, and Ellie assures her the potential is clearly there. She reminds them the Bluebird isn’t just any club, everyone from Garth Brooks to Faith Hill has played there, and Taylor Swift was discovered there during a songwriter night. All she asks is that Tenney finish her new song, or polish an old one, and check with her parents first.

Tenney nods so hard her teeth chatter. The moment Ellie leaves, she and Mason race to tell Dad. “Wow,” he marvels. “That is something.” “It’s more than something,” Mason argues. “It’s amazing!” He picks Tenney up and spins her around. Dad laughs, though she can’t tell what he’s really thinking.

At dinner, Mom and Dad trade a look before Mom hands Aubrey the rolls. Mason needles Mom about the demo she recorded with Silver Sun Records, while Tenney’s mind races through next steps, a showcase, a demo, maybe a record. When she insists this could be her first step toward a music career, her parents grow serious. Dad admits he worries she’s too young, which stings since they let her sing lead with the Tri-Stars without hesitating. Mom insists this feels different and isn’t a decision to make lightly. Tenney reminds her she once recorded a demo herself, but Mom counters that she was older, and promises she and Dad will think it over.