Opus One

Chapter 28: Interlude

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ryansylander/www/

“Bob, come away from that goddamn thing!” Betty called out from the back door.

“Just another minute,” he said.  “The light is on again.”

Bob grinned as he heard Betty’s footsteps tapping across the patio stones.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“Nothing yet.”

“Let me see,” she urged.

Bob moved aside.

“Lights out,” she said, straightening up.

Bob crouched down, confirming her observation.

“Oh well,” he said, and started putting things away. 

He turned to find Betty watching him.

“Are you finished, now?” she asked.

“I guess so.”

“Good.  I’ve been waiting for the last hour for you.”

“For what?”

Betty pointed upwards.  “I want to do that…”

“Oh.  Did you invite a friend, then?”

Betty made a face at him, and then swatted him on the arm.  “Pervert.”  She marched towards the door.

“Me?  You were the one who turned the telescope towards the hotel!” he called out, as he went after her.

Betty just turned and grinned, before disappearing into the house.

Richard awoke slowly.  Light had come at last, unwelcome; but it had come.  He found his hand still clasped between those of his two lovers, and smiled.  He pulled at the memories of the night, finding that he could still call the feeling of bliss to him at will.  It was part of him now.

He looked back and forth to each side, smiling at the two faces sleeping peacefully beside him.  He didn’t know how they could be any more beautiful than they looked just then.  He recalled their faces when they entered the hotel, took their first bite of food, felt the elevator rise, floated into the room…

And now he took in their faces as they slept.

They were images he’d remember forever.

Tearing himself away, he checked his watch.  It was later than he expected, but he had woken up in time. 

Very slowly, and reluctantly, he extricated himself from between his sleeping beauties.  Letting out a breath as he finally escaped without rousing them, he covered them to their waists with a sheet.  Then he found his pants on the floor, and went to the window to put them on. 

He took a few minutes to look out at the city, bright with morning sun now.  It was completely different than the prickled silhouette they had enjoyed looking out over the night before.  He felt sad, as he watched the moving busses, and the sidewalks full of people bustling to work.  They had all been asleep some hours earlier, oblivious of the passionate night that had ensued on the top floor of the Concorde.

And now it’s ending, Richard knew.  It will be a long time before I have another night quite like this…

A light knock brought him out of his thoughts.

He opened the door, and the aroma of breakfast made his stomach lurch.  He was starving. 

The attendant pushed the cart through the door.  Richard almost stopped him, but then stepped aside, suddenly feeling rich. 

Who cares!  I won’t be back here for a long time.

“Can you put it over by the bed?” he asked quietly, holding the door open and keeping his voice as smooth as he could.

The young man nodded and pushed the cart in.

Richard grinned as he caught the man’s misstep when he pushed the cart around the corner.  He wiped the look from his face as the man turned around quickly and came back towards the door. 

Richard held out a tip.  “Thanks,” he said nonchalantly.

The man nodded, smiling and glancing at Richard for only a quick moment before he disappeared down the hallway.  Richard shut the door and laughed.

He disrobed and crawled back into bed, less carefully this time, and that elicited some murmurs from the snoozers.

“Good morning!” he said, as they opened squinty eyes at him.

They smiled broadly as they stretched in satisfaction.  Then the aroma of the food entered their system, and they perked up.

“Mm, I’m starving!” Sandra said, sitting up and looking at the tray.

“Me too!” Emily agreed.

They looked at Richard, pausing to take him in.

Emily shook her head slowly.  “You do realize you’ve completely spoiled us?”

Richard shrugged happily.

“I could get used to this,” Sandra agreed, running a hand over the sheets.

“I wish I could do this every day for you,” Richard said honestly.

“I know.  But, I also know we can’t.  I’ll be living off of last night for a long time,” Sandra said.

“Good.  I’m really glad you had a good time.”

They shared a hug, and then Richard served up the food.

“What time do we have to leave paradise?” Emily asked.

“Too soon,” Sandra said wistfully.

Richard glanced at his watch.  “We have a little time.  One hour, thirty four minutes.”

“Oh, good,” Emily said.  “Another bath would be wonderful.  And, I think I’m still going to be a little hungry, even after we eat,” she said suggestively.

Richard laughed, and pulled the sheet over himself as protection.  “Ah, but I’m sore.”

“Really?” Emily asked.

“Yeah.  Rubbed raw,” he said. 

“I might be too,” Sandra agreed. 

“Wusses,” Emily said, and they all shared a chuckle.

Richard took a drink of his espresso, and let out a sigh. 

“Good?” Sandra asked, suddenly looking at him with interest.

“Average,” he said.  “But it will do.”

“There’s no need to settle,” Emily said suddenly.

Richard looked blankly at her.  “Huh?”

Sandra and Emily grinned at each other, and then hopped off the bed.

Richard frowned, confused, as they went into the closet.  For a few moments, there was some noise of rummaging through things, and then they returned.

Sandra was carrying a large box, and Emily had three smaller boxes.  All four were wrapped in Christmas paper.

“We thought about giving you this last night, but we felt a little overwhelmed by your gift,” Sandra said.

“But, now seems like just the right moment.”

Richard grabbed the big package as Sandra held it out to him. 

“Where were you hiding this?” Richard asked, surprised at the appearance of the large box.

“Why do you think I had three bags with me this afternoon?” Sandra said.

“I don’t know, clothes…  Girl stuff…”

Sandra raised a brow, but then started laughing.  “Girl stuff?”

“All right, just open it!” Emily urged him, cutting off the banter.

Richard tore the paper, and then let his mouth fall open.  Before he could cry out in surprise, his throat tightened up. 

“Merry Christmas,” they said happily.

Richard stared at them, still very moved.  “I don’t know what to say,” he managed.

“Is it okay?” Emily asked.

“Okay?  Yeah it’s okay!”  Richard took them into an embrace.  “Thank you, both.  I can’t believe it…!  You are amazing!”

The girls kissed him twice, and then Emily handed him one of the smaller boxes.  He opened it, and was met by the aroma of rich coffee.  He pulled out the paper bag, and then did a double take when he read the label.

Giovanni’s…  But how…?

He looked at them, unbelieving.

“How did you get this?”

“I had a few hours before my flight back when I was in New York.  Your dad told me where the coffee place was, down on Arthur’s Avenue.”

“Oh my god!” he exclaimed, breathing in the aroma deeply.

The second box contained a set of six espresso cups.

Finally Emily handed him the last box.  “Bet you can guess what this is.”

Richard grinned as he unwrapped the coffee grinder.

“Now you don’t have to settle.  Well, set it up!” Sandra urged.

“Yeah, breakfast is getting cold,” Emily added, eyeing the food.

Richard had the girls help him set up the machine, and in a short while he had served up the first espresso.  He sipped it like it was an elixir.

“Oh…  Wow.”

The girls smiled.

Then he turned to them, shaking his head.  “This is an awesome present.  It’s going to make getting up so much easier this year.  Thank you…  I’m really touched.”

With that, he hugged them tight. 

Can life get any better, he wondered.

Richard flipped through the score that he found on the desk.  He wondered why Mrs. Tertychnaya had never recorded the Etudes.  As he was reminding himself to make a copy of her concert performance of them for William, Dave strode into the sound room. 

“Good afternoon!”

“Hey, Dave.”

“How was your aunt’s house?  You look a little tired!”

“Great.  It was good to see her,” Richard said evenly.  “We stayed up late talking.”

“Cool.  Well, today will be easy.  You’ll just load the tapes into the computer.  Tomorrow we’ll get going on the actual editing.”

“Okay, cool.”

Dave pressed the start button on the computer keyboard, fired up the rack of equipment and the amplifiers for the speakers, and then grabbed the first tape from the stack on the desk.

It took him about twenty minutes to show Richard how to get the editing system going, and how to set things properly to match the recording settings of the tapes.  Then they started loading the audio from the tape. 

“It’s a digital transfer, so there’s no need to watch levels or anything.  Basically, all you need to do is load each take as a separate file, and keep the names straight.  If you hear anything funny, let me know.  Leave some space before and after the takes, especially in the ring off at the end of the movements.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Richard agreed.

“Well, I’ll be in my office.”

“What about false starts?  Do I load them?”

Dave nodded.  “Load everything.  We have the disk space, and you never know when you might need to pull something from an out take.”  Dave leaned closer to Richard, even though the audio wing was deserted and the room was soundproofed.  “You know how Jarrett is,” he said quietly, and then laughed.

Richard laughed too, and then Dave waved.

“Have fun!”

Richard turned back to the computer, and followed the score as take one progressed. 

I’m going to be hearing this music a lot this week, he thought.

The late night of loading tapes led to a late start to the following day.  He rode in with Dave, glad that the dorm was reopening.  He had been very comfortable on Dave’s pull out couch, he admitted, but he also hadn’t seen Sandra and Emily since he dropped them off at Emily’s teacher’s house the day before.  It seemed like an eternity, especially after the wondrous night they had shared at the hotel.

After unpacking a few things from his bags, including setting up his espresso machine on his desk, he headed downstairs to meet the girls for a quick lunch.  Then it would be back to the studio to continue his work for Dave.

Richard had just arrived at their room and was kissing Emily deeply, when Sandra burst in behind him.  She waltzed around the rug, flicking a little stick in the air, and holding a small pile of books.

“Good morning,” she sang happily, kissing them both.

“What’s that?” Richard asked.

“I got it at the music store.  I’m taking conducting class.”

“What?”

“I just added it to my schedule.”

Emily laughed from the bed.  “It’s a baton, Sandra, not a fairy wand.”

Sandra shot her a frown.  “Be quiet, then, or I’ll turn you to stone!”

“Conducting?” Richard asked skeptically.

“Yeah.”

“Okay…  So, does your wand have magic powers?” he asked, grinning at Emily.

“No, I doubt it.”  Sandra pointed it at Emily, and scrunched up her face.  “Nope,” she said, visually disappointed.

“What did you try to do to me?” Emily asked, frowning at her.

“You don’t want to know,” Sandra answered, her face serious.  She looked down at her baton sadly.  “Oh well.  At least we do have one wand around here with magic powers,” she said.

Richard laughed as she passed him and took hold of the second baton for a moment.

“My Mondays are going to be crazy, though,” she said.

“What time is the conducting class?”

“Four to six.  So I have German, counterpoint, piano class, ear training and conducting on Mondays,” Sandra counted off, opening her hand a finger at a time.  She threw the hand in the air and turned to her desk to clean up.

Emily laughed.  “You’re crazy.”

“Eh.  Conducting is not a big deal.  It’s only one credit.”

“How many credits are you taking?”

“Twenty.”

“Twenty!  Damn…  Guess we won’t be seeing you much this semester,” Emily said.

“No, I’ll be fine,” Sandra said.  “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Now I feel bad.  I’m only taking fourteen,” Richard said.

“Which is what normal people do!” Emily exclaimed.

“Well, if anyone can do it, you can,” Richard told Sandra.

She smiled sincerely at him.

“Well, are we doing lunch, or what?” Richard suddenly asked.  “I have to get back to the studio soon.  Dave’s waiting.”

“Yeah, let’s go.  I’m starving,” Sandra said.

“I think you can eat here, Sandra,” Emily said mischievously.  She turned to Richard.   “Maybe if Witch Sandra waves your wand around for a while, she can magically get a meal out of it.”

“Emily!”

“What?  You started it!”

Richard headed back to the studio after a less than satisfying meal at Crapler.  The month away from the cafeteria had significantly lessened the acceptance of the place that they had grudgingly grown during the first semester.  Still, Richard felt it necessary to eat there, given the amount of money he had spent a few nights before.

Dave was sitting at the desk, loading more of the session tapes.  They had enough in the computer now that Richard could start editing.  Loading the remaining tapes was something Dave could do while he worked on other things.

For the next hour, Dave walked Richard through the process of assembling the edited version of each piece on Irina’s album.  After demonstrating, and then watching a few edits, Dave was satisfied enough to leave Richard on his own.

“Seems like you’ve got it.  I’ll hang out for a while, in case you have questions.  When in doubt, just leave it and we’ll come back to it tomorrow.  Remember, this is non-destructive editing, so there’s not much you can do wrong… except lose all the edits you’ve made, of course!  Just save every few minutes, and you’ll be fine.”

Richard nodded, and Dave clapped him on the shoulder.

“And, don’t forget to keep track of your hours.”

“I won’t.”

“I’ll be in my office.”

Richard breathed in as he watched Dave close the door.  The room was almost dead silent.  Besides the blood pumping in his ears, the hum of a few quiet fans on the equipment rack was the only sound he could hear.  He took a moment to relax.

He looked at the score, finding the next edit as marked by Jarrett.  Go into take thirty somewhere in this bar, Richard translated from Jarrett’s marking.

Richard brought up take thirty in the edit window, and then found and marked the same point in the music on the old and new takes.  Then he pressed the edit key, and the two takes were assembled.  With a little shifting of the cross fade, he had it to a point where he could not tell the edit was there.  He found it somewhat unbelievable.

Over the ensuing hours, Richard worked through the music, finding that it went really quickly.  Irina had such control and precision in her playing that he found Dave’s warnings about matching the sonority between takes to be extremely easy.  Rarely did he have to move a cross fade to accommodate a difference in her playing between takes.

A few times Jarrett’s notes were incomplete.  There were a few sections where no preferred take was indicated.  Since Dave had already gone home, Richard took the initiative, and listened to the available takes.  He assembled the section with the best take he found.

He forced himself to take a dinner break with Sandra and Emily, lest they cry foul at his self imposed imprisonment.  By the time he became too tired to keep his eyes open late that night, he had edited about fifteen minutes of the music together.

After he packed up, he left a note for Dave telling him where he had left off, and went back to the dorm for a night of heavy sleep.

The trio found themselves deep in work even before the semester officially started the following Wednesday.  On Monday, Richard had chanced upon Nelson in the hallways of Wexford, and that led to a rehearsal of the Serenade with him that evening.  They also established a weekly meeting time with him on Fridays.

On the night before classes, the three of them found themselves with a couple of rare hours together, since Richard had finished the editing that afternoon.

“Well, that’s one thing off my list,” Richard said, as he crossed off the top line on the paper he held.

“Glad to be done?”

“Yeah.  It’s pretty intense.”

“What happens with the project now?”

“Dave said he’ll have Jarrett listen to what I did.  If he hears any problems, Dave will have me come in and fix them, if I have the time.  Then it goes to Irina, and she’ll give it a listen.  I think the majority of the work is done, though.  Dave said probably they will ask if there are any alternate takes for a few sections if they’re not convinced with the chosen take.  Other than that…”  Richard shrugged.

“Cool.”

“This list is still big,” Richard said, sighing.  “I won’t be crossing anything else off for a while.  I have all the music for the recital to practice…  Keep up my solo stuff for juries…  Sandra, have you finalized the songs you want to do?  I’ve liked trying them all out, but at this point I want to just focus on the ones we’ll be doing.”

“I’m going to do the three Wolf songs, and probably the Strauss one.  Let’s work on those four.  If the Strauss doesn’t come together, we’ll bag it.  We have to file our program with the events office in a month or so.  But that will be it, I promise.”

“Cool…  I think I’m just going to start the semester right off by meeting with Dobra every week, surprised as I am to say that,” Richard said, returning to his list.  “But I can’t afford to get behind, you know?  Not with the recital near the end of the semester.”

“I agree,” Sandra said.  “I’m doing the same thing.”

“What is this piece?” Emily asked, pointing to the stereo.

“Verklaerte Nacht,” Sandra replied.  “I borrowed the CD from Ben.”

“Oh, that’s Schoenberg, right?”

“Yeah.  We’re going to be conducting it in class this semester.  I am so in love with this music!” she said emphatically.

“But there’s no horn part in it!” Emily said, making a face.

“No, just strings,” Sandra said.  “Not all music has to have a horn part!”

“All good music does.”

“Brass snob!” Sandra teased.

“How does conducting class work?  Do you conduct to a recording?” Richard asked.

“No, I think the students make up the orchestra when they’re not conducting.  I’ll find out next week.  Mr. Menlos left a note in everyone’s box telling us to be ready to go, and bring our instruments.  Obviously I’ll just be watching.”

“You can bust out your fiddle.”

“I don’t have it with me, and I wouldn’t even if I did,” Sandra said.

“I still haven’t heard you play,” Richard said.

“Some day.”

“I hope so.”

“When you come to my house, I promise.”

The phone rang, and Emily grabbed it.

“Hello?  Oh, hi…”

Emily listened, smiling after a while.

“Thanks…  Okay, I will… Bye.”

She hung up.

“Who was that?” Sandra asked.

“My dad.”

“What did he want?”

“Just wanted to wish me luck this semester, getting ready for the recital.”

“Really?  That was nice of him.”

Emily nodded.  “He’s been different lately.”

“What’s up?”

“I think it’s his new fiancée.”

“The one he took to New York?” Richard asked.

“Yeah.”

“Do you like her?”

“I kind of have to.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s my dad’s assistant.  Been so for years and years.  We used to hang out during rehearsals, when I was younger.  I’ve always liked her.”

“So it’s a good thing, then?”

Emily shrugged.  “It’s weird.  I haven’t brought it up, because I’m still trying to figure it out.”

“What?”

“I guess I’m just used to automatically hating anyone my dad gets together with.”

Richard and Sandra nodded in understanding.

“I mean, he betrayed my mom.  It’s as simple as that, really.  I can’t imagine what she went through.  She was beautiful, you know.  She was a beautiful, amazing violinist.  After she gave up hopes of keeping her career going, she would still play for me.  Even when she was going through chemo…  I’d listen to her play all day.  She didn’t need to talk to me with words.  Instead of bedtime stories, she would play for me, weaving a new story with music every night.”

Emily was staring out the window, her hand absently imitating a bowing motion.

“I knew what she was going through, just by the way she played.  It was like the music was… a window on her heart.  When she died…”

Richard put an arm on her shoulder as she trailed off.  Her voice had grown too tight.

“I’ve never told this to anyone,” Emily said at last, swallowing hard.  “When she died, I wanted to have her buried with her violin.  I wanted her to be able to play for me, even after she was gone…”

A tear trickled down Emily’s cheek.

“But…  My dad said no.  Her violin was too valuable for that, he said.  So he took it away from me at the funeral.”

“Really?” Sandra said incredulously, a tear on her cheek as well.

“Yeah.  I never saw it again.  A few months later, he told me he sold it and put the money in the fund my mom left for me.”

“That’s awful,” Sandra whispered.

“He said that material possessions didn’t matter.  He said I needed to remember her playing, in my head.  The violin was not her soul mate any more, but just an instrument now.  The music in it was dead.  ‘Only in your memories can your mother’s music live on.’  Those were his words.  And maybe he was right…”

“He didn’t have to sell the violin,” Richard said quietly.

Emily shrugged, as she wiped the tears from her face and returned to the room from her distant memories.  “He thought I’d be better off with the money.  Maybe he was right about that too.  It was a really rare violin.  I was young, and didn’t know what she really had until years after she died.  He wasn’t about to let an eleven year old girl bury that instrument out of sentimentality.”

Richard sighed.  “Who has it now?  Someone famous must be playing it?”

“Nah, not that I’ve seen.  It went to a collector, and it’s probably sitting deep in a safe somewhere, in the dark.”

“Then the music in it really is dead,” Sandra murmured.  “What a waste…”

“Maybe it’ll come back to you someday, Em,” Richard said.

“Like I could ever afford it now!” Emily said, suddenly laughing off the depressing spell she’d gone through. 

“Do you still have the money from the sale?”

Emily shrugged.  “Sure.  But that maker’s violins have doubled in price in the last five years.  Every time I hear of one up for sale, I check it out, just to see if it’s my mother’s violin.”

“That’s really sad, Emily,” Richard said.  “I can’t imagine how it must have felt to lose your mother, and then her violin too.”

Emily did not say anything as Richard and Sandra hugged her.

“Now you know why I’ve never liked my dad.  And then he goes and gets engaged to Audrey.”

“Is that his assistant?”

“Yeah.  She even looks a little like my mom.  And she’s someone I’ve liked for years.”  Emily closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “Suddenly it’s like my dad cares about me, for some reason.”

“Is it her influence?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe…  I was looking at the calendar in his office, and I realized how amazing it is that he’s even coming to the recital.”

“Why?”

“He’s flying out that morning, and leaving the next, because that’s his one night off from Mahler Three rehearsals.”

Richard and Sandra nodded.

“I mean, part of me is still expecting him to call one day and say he’s had to cancel.  Mahler Three is like one of the most massive pieces in the repertoire.  It’s hard to believe he won’t need that time, a couple of weeks before the concert.”

“But he called to wish you luck.  Sounds like he’s looking forward to the recital.”

“I know.  And even though most of me keeps doubting it, a small part of me keeps telling me this is real.  I don’t know why he’s reaching out.”

“How was break with him?”

“Oh, I don’t know.  Kind of the same, but not…  We talked more.  Never about anything important, you know.  I stopped telling him about anything I really cared about after my mother died.  I couldn’t trust him not to take it away from me, somehow.”

Emily sighed.  “But, even talking about whatever with him this last month, he seemed like he was actually interested.  He wanted to know all about you two, and how my lessons with Mr. Tyler were going.  I mean, he was busy, and I didn’t see him all that much, but he tried to make time to have dinner and stuff.”

“I hope he comes out,” Sandra said.  “It sounds like he was terrible to you and your mother, but he’s still your dad, too.  Maybe he’s changed.”

“Maybe.  I’m not really going to believe it until I see him sitting in that hall.  That’s when I’ll believe.  Maybe.”

The first shortened week of classes passed in a blur.  Even though the workloads were still light, the pressure of the recital began to weigh on them immediately.  It seemed to Richard that he was spending every available moment practicing.  It felt good, since things were starting to come together. 

With a few exceptions, most movements of the Serenade were feeling more natural to play, and the trio was starting to gel musically.  Richard found himself really getting into the music for the first time, as opposed to just trying to stay with the girls and keep things from falling apart.  They began to share satisfied looks at least as often as laughs or even frowns.  As Sandra had predicted when they planned the recital, it was really nice to be able to spend time together while working.

Still, there was much work to be done.  Many sections of the Serenade were still rough.  The songs and the sonata that the girls were playing for their part of the recital were also still in the learning stages.

Getting up for an eight o’clock music history class on Tuesdays and Thursdays was already old after the first day.  Sandra had the additional burden of her second semester of German being at eight on the other three weekdays, which allowed her only weekends for sleeping in.

Even Jer seemed drained as the semester got rolling.

“Dude, you’ve been moping all day,” Richard said, as he came back from practicing to find Jer still staring at the ceiling.

“I have no energy right now.”

“Everything cool?”

“Eh.  Jenna’s acting weird.  She’s always a little… different after we have a long break apart.  It’s only been a week, so I shouldn’t get worried.  Still, I don’t feel like doing much.”

Richard laughed.  “She’s got you in her grip.”

“Nah.  I’m just tired.  I slept too much over break.”

The phone rang.  Jer was out of bed instantly, and answered it. 

“Hello?  Yeah, hold on…”

Jer passed the phone to Richard.  “Arlene?” he whispered.

Richard smiled.

“Hey you.  I was just going to call you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  I wanted to see how things were going back at school.”

There was a pause.  “Well, things are happening.  But how are you?”

“I’m good.  Busy as hell with recital stuff, but…”

“Are you giving a recital?  I didn’t know.”

“I guess it didn’t come up.  But yeah, April ninth.  It’s joint, with a couple of friends.  We’re just doing it for fun, but sometimes I wonder if it was the best decision.  It’s a lot of work.”

“I bet.”

“So, what’s up with you?”

“Well…  I’m not going back to Juilliard,” Arlene announced.

“What?  Really?”

“Yeah.  I took your advice.  You said some things that night which really made sense.”

“I don’t remember making much sense of anything that night,” Richard said with a laugh.

Arlene chuckled too.  “Maybe not.  But you were still right.  I needed to get out of that situation.  So I’m transferring out.”

“To where?” Richard asked.

“I’m not sure yet.  I’ve lined up some auditions.”

“Are you going to audition here?”

“Actually I am.  And also at Curtis and Eastman.  I was talking to William – ”

“William?  Really?  I thought you hated him.”

“No.  I hated everyone that night.  It wasn’t personal.”

Richard nodded.  “Okay.”

“I got together with him, because I needed to talk to someone…”

“You could have called me.”

“I know.  And I almost did.  But… I know William is obsessive about pianists.  And you said that he knew Mr. Smith was wrong for me.  So I thought maybe he’d know who was right for me.”

“How did your teacher take the news that you were cutting out?”

“Haven’t heard a word, which worries me a little.  But, I need to move on.”

“True.  What can he do, if you’re not there?”

“Exactly.  So when I got together with William, I asked him for suggestions of who to study with.  He had a few names he thought would really be a good match for me.”

“Who would you work with here?  Mrs. T.?”

“Actually, Michel Auber.”

“Oh.  I can see that.  I recorded his faculty recital last semester.  I actually did think of you when he was playing.”

“Was he good?  I don’t know him very well, yet.”

“Yeah, very pretty playing.  How’s your arm, by the way?”

“Better.  Once I made the decision a few weeks ago, it started to go away.”

“Stress?”

“Maybe.  But it’s still a technique thing, too.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it’s getting better.  So, wow… You might actually be at Wexford next year.”

“Maybe.  And, I’ll definitely be there on the second of March to audition.”

“Oh, cool!  I’ll personally show you around.”

“That would be lovely.  How are things with your girlfriend?” she asked.

“Really nice.  You’ll meet when you’re here, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” she said simply.

“Well, I have to run.  I need to eat lunch and then meet Sandra to rehearse her recital songs.”

“Is that her name?”

Richard paused.  “Yeah.  We are playing the recital together.”

“That’s so sweet, Richard.”

“You know, it is.  It really is.”

Sandra took a deep breath as she entered the large rehearsal room on the bottom floor of the conservatory building.  The space was used for a variety of events, including chamber orchestra and section rehearsals, warm up space before orchestra concerts, a dining area for special functions, and as the classroom for the conducting class.

A number of people were already there, tuning their instruments and warming up.  Sandra recognized Mr. Menlos from seeing him conduct the orchestra concerts. 

Nerves flared up within her, as she realized she was going to be standing up in front of dozens of people, trying to conduct.  The class had looked much less intimidating in the registrar’s office.

Sandra sat in the rear corner as the room filled up with students.  Maybe with this many students, I’ll only conduct once or twice this semester…

Mr. Menlos strode to the podium a few minutes past four, and clapped his hands.

“All right, let’s settle down,” he called out.  “Sarah, give us an A, please.”

The oboe sounded for a moment, and then the rest of the musicians tuned up.  When they quieted down, Mr. Menlos raised his hands.

“From the top.”

He conducted the piece for about three minutes, and then cut them off.

“Okay, now that you all know how it goes, we can get the semester rolling.”  He stepped off the podium and walked towards the back corner, on the opposite side of the room from Sandra’s chosen seat.  She felt a little relieved that he seemed to be set up over there, far away from her.

“We have a pretty big class, so you might not get to go every week.  That does not mean you should not practice.  Chances are, you will conduct in every class.”

He looked around.  “Those of you who are here, but not taking the class, thank you for volunteering your time.  Make sure you sign your name on this list,” he held up a clipboard, “and your assistance in forming an orchestra will be duly noted by me.  Remember, I’m the one who decides seating for the orchestra concerts.  Tell your friends, too.”

A chuckle spread through the room.

“All right.  I chose something light and easy for today.  I think I know most of you.  But there are a few names and faces I haven’t seen before.”  Mr. Menlos stood up and grabbed a sheet of paper from his things.

“Let’s see here.  Sandra d’Arcy?”

Sandra’s heart jumped to her throat.  “Yes?” she answered.

“Please,” he said, gesturing to the podium.

Sandra stared for a moment.  Then she jumped up and made her way to the front, before realizing she had forgotten her baton in her bag.

“Um, hold on.  Sorry.”

She ran back to her seat, trying to keep her heart from racing even more, and pulled the baton out of her bag. 

At last she was in front of the orchestra.  She held up her baton for a moment in explanation of her double trip to the podium.

“Helps to be prepared,” Mr. Menlos said.  “Go ahead.”

Sandra looked at him for a moment, and then down at the score, feeling like she was on a different planet.  This was not what she was expecting at all.  She looked around at the players, who waited for some sort of indication from her.

The baton felt like a tree trunk in her hand as she held it out unsteadily.  She started to move it up and down.

The orchestra didn’t do anything at all.

Sandra felt her face heating up as she stopped and stared at the score. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled. 

No one came to her rescue, and the earth didn’t open up and swallow her, no matter how much she urged her fairy wand to make that happen.

She cleared her head, and looked up.  She tried again, trying to give impetus to her baton.

A few players came in, and then a few more tried to catch up.  Sandra realized in horror that she was beating the time way too fast, and the music quickly turned into a cacophonous mess.  The players stopped first, and then Sandra did too.

She took a deep breath, and then looked at Mr. Menlos, steeling herself.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” she admitted.

“Clearly,” he said, grinning as the orchestra laughed.  “Have you listened to this piece?”

“Yes.”

“Do you really want to go that fast?” he said wincing.

“No,” she squeaked.

“Good,” he agreed.  “You need to hear the music in your head, before you even raise your hands.”

Sandra nodded.

“What is your instrument?” he asked.

“I sing.”

“Ah,” he said.  “Have you ever played in an orchestra?”

“No.”

“Have you ever watched an orchestra?” he asked, raising a brow.

The musicians tittered.

“Yes,” Sandra said, still wishing to disappear on the spot.

Mr. Menlos stood and came around to the podium.

“The reason nothing happened the first time you flailed around,” he demonstrated, “is that you didn’t give them any indication of where you were.  You just waved your arm up and down.  They probably thought your friend had walked by outside, there.”

Sandra felt the heat on her face expand to her neck.

“As for the second attempt… I’m not sure why they came in.  Maybe they felt bad for you.”

He turned to the musicians with a grin.  “If you don’t get a clear beat, or a proper cue in this class, please don’t play!  We’re not here to perform; we’re here to teach conducting.  Be mean!  Be anal about what you see up here, and respond accordingly.”

He turned back to Sandra.  “What’s our time signature?”

“Four-four,” Sandra said, glancing at the score.

“Do you know how to beat four-four time?”

Sandra, still quite red, didn’t answer.

Mr. Menlos put a hand on her shoulder.  “Just relax.  It will be much more fun, if you relax.”

Sandra did, but only slightly.

“I don’t know,” she answered weakly.

“It’s okay,” Mr. Menlos said gently.  “Most people are not born knowing that.”

He held out his baton and demonstrated.  “Down, left, right, up.  One, two, three, four.”

Sandra matched him.

“Okay, good.  Now, let’s try again.”

Sandra turned to the orchestra, and they raised their instruments.  She was certain they were all laughing at her, even behind their serious faces.

Sandra started the pattern.  The orchestra came in suddenly, jerking to a start.

Mr. Menlos yelled and glared out at them.  “Hey, I said be mean!  Why did you come in?  If I did that to you in a rehearsal, you’d throw a fit!”

Satisfied with their smiles, he addressed Sandra once more.  “What do you do before you start singing?”

“Um…  I don’t know.”

“Hopefully you breathe?”

The musicians chuckled yet again.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“Imagine if I just told you to sing right now, immediately.  Go!  No breath.  Wouldn’t work so well, huh?”

Sandra shook her head.

“The piece starts on the downbeat.  You need to give them their breath.  That means you give beats three and four, or at least beat four, if you are clear enough.  Try again.”

Sandra thought about the pattern, trying out the third and fourth beats in little movements down by the score.  It felt unusually awkward.

“Yes, right and up, and then downbeat,” Mr. Menlos said, demonstrating for her.

Sandra tried for real, and this time the orchestra came in.  Again the tempo was lightning fast. 

For a few moments Sandra held on to the ridiculous pace, happy to have gotten anything happening at all.  The musicians valiantly flew through the music at the absurd speed Sandra was beating. 

Then Mr. Menlos waved them to stop.

He looked around at the players.  “Whew… What does Andante mean?”

Sandra stared at the indication in the score.  “Like, medium slow?”

“No, no.  Andante!” he repeated in an exaggerated Italian accent. 

Sandra started to speak, understanding, but orchestra members began to call it out as Mr. Menlos looked at them.

“Going forth.”

“Walking.”

“Ambling.”

“Ambling,” Mr. Menlos repeated, savoring the word with a smile.  “I like that one.”

He turned to Sandra once again, and jabbed at the music with a finger.  “You need to know what every word in this score means.  Allegro does not mean fast.  Adagio: not medium slow, either.  Look them up, if you have to.”

“I actually did know that,” Sandra said quietly.

“Okay, thinking Andante then: hum the first lines,” he said.

Sandra did, taking a more moderate pace in her singing than she had in her conducting.  Her voice wavered unsteadily.

“Okay, good.  I’ll say it again.  You need to hear the music in your head.  Always.  Always, always!  You cannot conduct something that’s not in your head.  Let’s try again.  Give a little more impetus to your beats, especially at first.  That will keep them together and establish the pulse better.”

Sandra took a deep breath.  She couldn’t seem to find the right tempo against her speeding heart.  At last she settled down, and gave beats three and four.

Then the orchestra started.  It was right!  She felt a wave of relief as nothing fell apart after eight bars. 

Mr. Menlos grabbed her wrist, adding some pulse to her waving arm.

“Feel that?” he asked.

Sandra nodded.

He let her go and returned to his corner to watch from behind the orchestra.  Sandra just fought to keep her hand moving correctly.  Down, left, right, up; Down left right up down left right up down right left up down right up… shit…

The orchestra kept going, despite her dyslexic patterning. 

Then she realized some people had stopped playing.  Half the music was missing.  The melody had disappeared altogether, and all that remained was some rhythmic accompaniment.  Several players were grinning as they lowered their instruments.

She stopped conducting, and the orchestra trailed off.

“Good,” Mr. Menlos called out.  Sandra looked up in surprise, and then her heart returned to the floor as she realized he was addressing himself to the orchestra, not to her. 

“Thank you for not coming in,” he said to them, before looking her in the eyes.  “Sandra, you need to cue people.  They don’t have the score in front of them to follow along and know when to come in.  That’s up to you.  We can hope that they would actually count,” he said exaggeratedly, and several people sniggered, “but we know that’s never going to happen.”

Sandra nodded faintly, wondering how people conducted full symphonies of complicated music.  She couldn’t even get through a minute of this simple piece without having the thing crash and burn.

“Okay, enough torture for one day,” Mr. Menlos announced.  “Dismissed.  Who’s next?  I don’t know who Robert Freni is.  Are you here?”

Sandra walked back to her seat as Robert made his way up to the podium.  Her knees were shaking like she had been running for three hours straight.

“I think I’m going to drop conducting,” Sandra announced, when the three of them met for dinner after her class.

“Why?” Richard asked.

“I got up there first, out of everyone.  I swear, I almost died!”

“Didn’t go so well?” Emily asked, laughing.

“No, it didn’t go at all!  I’m clueless.  I’m retarded, thinking I can get up there and conduct!  I’ve never even really watched conductors at concerts.  I have no idea what I’m doing.  I can’t even remember left from right.”

“That bad, huh?”

Sandra held out her arm.  “Look!  I’m still shaking.”

Emily shrugged.  “It’ll pass.”

“Yeah, it’ll pass, because I’m not going back.  Traffic outside was coming to a complete stop, I was so red!”

Richard and Emily laughed, and patted her arm consolingly.

“I’m going to be famous for this episode, just watch.”

“I haven’t heard anything yet,” Emily said.  “Then again, it’s only been a few hours…”

Sandra gave her a stricken look.

“Well, you do have enough things going on,” Richard said.

“I know.  I don’t need to be freaking out about some elective.  Tomorrow, I’m dropping.  God, what was I thinking!”

“Go for it,” Richard urged.  “Oh, by the way, guess who’s coming to audition here in March.”

The girls shrugged. 

“Arlene.”

“Oh really?  Is she going to wear panties at her audition?” Emily asked, tittering.

“Hey now…  I told you she was a little insane that night.  She’s actually a pretty normal girl.  I want her to feel calm and welcome when she’s here, and I’ll need your help, not your barbs.”

“Okay.  But I couldn’t help it,” Emily said, grinning.

“I know.  And it was funny,” Richard admitted, laughing now.

“It might be the semester of ex-lovers,” Sandra said.

“Why?”

“I talked to Billy and he’s seriously considering coming up for the recital.  He’ll know for sure later in the semester, but I think it’ll happen.”

“Well, cool!  Our audience continues to grow!” Richard said.

“Hey, is Viktoriya coming?” Emily asked him.

Richard shrugged.  “I have no idea.  I doubt it.”

“Why didn’t you call her when you were in New York?”

“Um…  I don’t know.  I don’t have her number or anything.  Why would I?”

“It was obvious you felt a connection with her,” Sandra said.

Richard looked at them, and then raised a brow in consideration.  “Well, we had a good time, but, you know…”

“Come on, Richard.  I even I’m interested in meeting her, from what you told us,” Sandra offered.

“If you weren’t taken, you’d have totally been all over each other in that garden,” Emily said.

“Maybe sooner, at the telescope,” Richard admitted, grinning, before he turned serious again.  “But really, I’m with you two.  I’m not looking to add lovers…”

“It’s not necessarily about sex,” Emily said.

“You were the one who said we have a number of soul mates,” Sandra added.

“Think of us three,” Emily continued.  “I don’t know if it would be quite as amazing if it just any pair of us was together.”

Richard conceded with nod.  “Maybe not.  I definitely don’t want to find out, either.”

“So what if we find more people to share our lives with?” Sandra asked him.  “It can be in all different ways.  Not just a physical thing.”

Richard laughed.  “I can barely handle the two of you, and you want more?”

They suddenly caught the girl at the next table looking at them.  She turned her face back to her plate, smiling slightly.

Richard grimaced, and then the three of them laughed.  They did keep their voices a little quieter, though.

“I see what you’re saying,” Richard said slowly.  “But it seems like many times things go towards the physical, when you find that connection.”

“True,” Sandra agreed.

“Look at you and Allison,” Richard said, and then grinned.  “Then again, look at what that did to our relationship.”

“See?” Sandra said, suddenly excited.  “It’s like Emily just said; things are dynamic when we interact with these other people.”

“But what about the physical part?  I mean, I never felt weird about you and Allison,” Richard said.

“Me neither,” Emily admitted.

“When it’s right, it won’t feel weird.  Even…” Sandra paused.

“What?”

“Well, even your thing with Joel, Emily…  It was a weird night, but I don’t think that was because of you being with him, at all.  It was about what we were going through with school, and with us, and you getting attacked.”

Emily shook her head emphatically.  “No, that was a totally different thing than what we’re talking about.”

“Maybe,” Richard said.  “But it also really made our relationship stronger, too.”

Emily shrugged.  “It did…  But that night with him was a mistake.  It wasn’t some sudden spark I felt, like you did with Allison, or Viktoriya.  I was just stupid.”

“Not everyone in the pool is going to be someone we meet fresh.  Some we may already have known.”

“True,” Richard agreed.  “I’ve just never thought of things in this way.”

“Well, I’ve known Joel for a long time, but…”

“I’m not saying he is,” Sandra said.  “I can’t judge him based on that night.”

Emily shrugged.

“So do you think at some point we’ll be meeting others?” Richard asked.

“I’m sure of it.”

“And what if something does happen, like with Allison?”

“If it’s right, then it will be right,” Sandra said.  “But we need to always be honest, no matter what.  Honest with ourselves, and with each other.  If we do it for selfish reasons, then we’re in trouble.”

“Sounds like you have thought of this just a little bit,” Richard said, grinning.

“I have.  But I still don’t know much, though.”

“I think she’s saying all this because she wants to hole up with Allison when she gets here,” Emily joked.

“Emily!  No, I’m being serious.  I do know one thing:  I love the two of you like nothing else.  Whatever happens, we always need to share what we are feeling.”

Emily grinned impishly.  “Hmm… We’re going to have to be on good behavior those couple of days when everyone is here.”

“Will people suspect anything?”

“I don’t know.  It may depend on how the recital goes…”

The following morning, Sandra was just stepping out of the registrar’s office when she spotted Mr. Menlos walking towards her.  He was the last person she wanted to see, but he was unavoidable in the long hallway.  She considered running away, but he called out to her.

“Ah Sandra.  I need to speak with you.  Do you have a minute?”

“Sure.  But… there’s not really anything to talk about.”

“Oh?”  He frowned at her.

“I just dropped your class,” she admitted apologetically.  “I mean, I liked it, but I had twenty credit hours going, and I think it would have been too much for me.”

Mr. Menlos laughed.  “You liked it?” he asked, skepticism on his face.

Sandra relaxed her shoulders, and looked at him.  “Okay, you’re right.  I was freaking out up there!  But the part about twenty credit hours is true.”

She smiled sweetly, hoping he’d understand.

“Well, don’t be too hard on yourself.  I’ve seen worse than that.  If you had stood up there and known what you were doing, given your background, I would have been amazed.  If you noticed, no one else did much better, really.”

“I was too busy waiting to burst on fire to notice much after I got down from there.”

“Ah, I see…  Well, I’m disappointed.  I was going to ask if you would sing for us when we got to the Mozart opera excerpt.”

“What do you mean?” Sandra asked, looking at him.

“If you wanted to sing the soprano part for that class.”

“Oh.”

“It does get easier,” Mr. Menlos said gently.

Sandra shook her head.  “I don’t think that it’s for me.  I got up there and couldn’t even think.”

Mr. Menlos laughed.  “You did look a little stunned.  It was… amusing, if you don’t mind me saying so.” 

Sandra laughed nervously.

He spread his hands.  “Well, I’m sorry you won’t be with us.  If you change your mind, or even if you still would like to at least sing, please let me know.  It’s not every day you get to sing with an orchestra.  It will be a little repetitive, but still.”

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course.  Just let me know,” he said, smiling.

Sandra watched him go, and she sat down heavily on a nearby bench. 

He’s not mean, really…  And he did say it would get easier…

She finally stood up and entered the registrar’s office. 

I came to Wexford knowing I’d be challenged.  What the hell is my problem…?

“Could I have that drop form back, please?”

“Can you show me the conducting patterns for the different meters?” Sandra asked Emily at dinner.

Emily looked at her for a moment.  “I thought you were dropping.”

“Changed my mind.”

“Why?”

Sandra sighed.  “I have no idea.”

“Going to go back for more punishment, huh?”

“I guess.  He said it would get easier.”

“Maybe.  But the pieces will get harder, too.”

“I really want to learn, for some reason.  And I’m still obsessed with that one Schoenberg piece.”

Emily laughed.  “Tell me about it.  That’s all we’ve listened to this last week!”

“Sorry.  You can just change it if you get tired of it.”

“Okay, good.”

“So, can you show me those patterns?”

Emily smiled.  “Somehow, I didn’t think you’d drop out.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.  Just a feeling,” she said cryptically.

Sandra looked at her, but before she could probe the remark, Emily was beating out three-four time.

Three weeks passed, during which the editing of Mrs. Tertychnaya’s album was finished.  Dave initially received a moderate list of things to change on the first edit, from Jarrett and Irina.  Despite feeling the pressures of school, Richard offered to fix them himself.  He did not want to drop out of the project partway again, like he had during the recording sessions.  Besides, he was beginning to realize that knowing how to edit could one day come in handy.

After Richard performed the changes as requested, CDs of the new edit were passed around.  This time, Jarrett and Irina were satisfied.  Richard’s part of the project was done.  Dave was going to master the album and send it to the record company, and then within a few months, Mrs. Tertychnaya’s new CD would be released.

The next thing Richard knew, Dave was handing him a check. 

Richard glanced down, and opened his eyes wide.

“Is this just for the editing?”

Dave was grinning at him.  “Yeah.”

Richard turned the check towards Dave, pointing at the number.

“You worked a whole bunch of hours, Richard, and the rate the record company pays is much higher than what you get here recording recitals.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure!  Just take the money and run, man!”

Richard did.  When he got to his dorm room, he pulled the check out of his pocket again, staring at the number one last time. 

After smiling in satisfaction, he slid the check into his desk drawer, and then lay on his bed, considering what to use the windfall for.  Another night at the Concorde? He decided to keep the amount a secret from the girls, for now.

There was a knock on his door as he was about to drift off.

“Come in,” he called out.

“Hi,” Sandra greeted, as she entered the room.

“Hey.  What’s up?  Class go all right?”

“This conducting thing is driving me crazy.  It seems like I’m spending all my time on it, for some reason,” Sandra said wearily.

“Why?” Richard asked, as he moved over to let her lie down next to him on his bed.

“Because I suck at it.”

“Can you still drop?”

She looked over at him with an offended expression.

“Guess not,” Richard said.

“I actually really like it.  It scares the shit out of me every time I get up there, but it’s exhilarating, too.  Mr. Menlos has taught me a lot.  I actually got through the piece today.  Hanging on for dear life, but I got through it without having it spontaneously turn into a twentieth century atonal composition.”

Richard laughed.  “Well, that’s a step forward!”

“But for a one credit hour course, it’s sure kicking my butt.”

“How is counterpoint going?”

“Fine.  It’s pretty formal.  I have to write an invention for next Monday.”

“Like a Bach invention?”

“Yeah.  Two parts.  Do you know any of them?”

“I’ve played them, a long time ago.”

“Cool.  I need to write one in that style.”

“Let me know if you want me to play it when you have something.”

“Thanks.”

Richard paused.  “Then again, you can just play it in your head, right?”

Sandra laughed knowingly.  “Yeah.  But that’s not as fun as watching you play.”

Richard squeezed her hand.

The phone rang.

Sandra started to move to let Richard up, but he held her down.

“I’m too tired to get up.  Let the machine get it.”

After the fourth ring, William’s voice sounded over the speaker.

“Richard…  Saint Richard…  Got the package today.  Unbelievable.  I don’t know what else to say, except you made my year.  Call me…” 

There was a long period of silence.  Richard waited for the machine to shut off, but then William’s voice continued, sounding tighter. 

“Did you listen to twenty-five, number seven?  I mean really listen?  I think you said you were playing that one.  I’m choking up just thinking about it.  She’s… brilliant.  You are one lucky bastard to be studying with her.  I – I have to go…”

There was a click, and then the machine went silent.

“Who was that?”

“William, my friend in New York.  I guess he got the CDs I sent him,” Richard said, grinning.

“He sounds like a character.”

“He is.  We’ve always gotten along, but over break it was a little different.”

“Hmm?”

“He was a little more… childish, in a funny kind of way.  He’s like the classic polite rich New York gentleman, when you first get to know him.  But, he also has this kind of funny crude side to him that I never saw before.  I told him about us.”

Sandra turned to him.  “About you, me, and Emily?”

“Yeah.  He’d never tell anyone, don’t worry.”

“What did he say?”

“He was intrigued, to say the least.  You could see his mind going around as he imagined things.”

“Have you told anyone else?” Sandra asked.

“No.  You?”

“No.  I think people have to suspect, though.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.  We’ve been a little less careful lately.  But so it is.  I don’t really care anymore.”

Sandra had her eyes closed.  “I’m going to fall asleep, if I stay like this.”

“Fine with me.”

“No, I can’t,” she said, starting to rise.  “I’ll regret it later.”

“All right.  I guess we can rest when we’re dead.”

“Sure feels that way, doesn’t it?” Sandra said, smiling tiredly.

“Yeah.  This semester is definitely tougher.  Mrs. T. is driving me harder, for sure.”

“Same here.  I guess last semester was just a warm up.”

“Yeah.  Then again, we chose to do a recital.  Maybe this is why they don’t have first-years do them.”

“True.  It’s our own damn fault,” Sandra moaned.

“Are you regretting it?” Richard asked quietly.

Sandra breathed deeply, and then shook her head.  “No, not at all.  I didn’t come here to put my feet up and watch other people play.  Before I came to Wexford… I told myself I was going to live this time to the fullest, you know?  I had no idea what I was getting into.  No idea that meant meeting you and Emily, and… playing music with you both.  It’s a dream, really… as hard as it is.  I think about my friends sometimes, and wonder what they’re going to be doing in a few years when they get out of school.  Working the fields, sitting in an office… And I realize how lucky we are.”

Sandra turned to him, her eyes simmering.  “I’ve felt things I’ve never felt before, Richard.  Things so deep, that it makes my chest tight just thinking about it now.  We get to live this… this crazy, amazing life.  I mean, there’s just such a range of emotions that come with what we do.  Sometimes, I’m just so overwhelmed I don’t know how to handle it.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Richard said quietly.

“I was looking at pictures of conductors in the library, earlier.  It just made me start crying.  We see all these musicians on stage all the time, in this completely public situation…  And yet, with some, you can see right inside them.  They just play, or conduct, and you can see everything they’ve suffered through when they’re off the stage.  Everything they love, and hate, and feel…  It’s through the music, in the end, that we connect to these people.”

Richard held her gaze.

“I’ve felt that way, with you and Emily,” Sandra said.  “It’s starting to come now, when we play together.”

“I know.  I’ve felt it too.  It’s like everything we’ve been through is coming out in our music.”

“I just hope we can connect with the audience that way,” Sandra said.

“We will, if we just keep working.”

Sandra nodded slowly, relaxing the tension in her body.  “I guess we should go eat so we can get back to that working thing.”

Richard sniffed, closing his eyes.  “Yup.  Are you going to be okay?”

She nodded.  “As long as things stay like they are, I’ll be all right.  I can’t handle anything else right now, though.”

“I know.”

Sandra kissed him.  It was a kiss full of emotion, and deep love.

“I’m missing you both,” she whispered.

“Me too.  In two days it’s Valentine’s Day.”

Sandra sniffed.  “Slash your birthday, slash Emily’s birthday.  What have we come to, that we’re lumping our special moments together like that?”

Richard smiled wistfully.  “Emily has orchestra rehearsal on mine, and…”

Sandra held out a hand.  “I know.  I know we need to, but it’s still tough.”

“We’ll be all right.  Just think, in less than two months, we’ll be done with the recital, and things will be easier.  We can relax then.”

“No… juries!” Sandra said, laughing through an anguished face.

“After this, juries will be a walk in the park.”

“Finals…”

Richard shrugged in acknowledgment.  “I know.  It’ll be crazy.  At least, we have the summer.  I still want to take you two to Italy with me.  Somehow.”

Sandra smiled at him.  “I know.  And right now, that’s one of the things keeping me going.”

Richard stood and offered her his hand.  He pulled her up into a hug, and held her tight for a long time.

“Just remember, I love you, Sandra.”

“I love you too, Richard.  I really do.”

“What time is it?” Emily asked. 

Richard noticed her eyes were a little red, and very tired.

“Eleven forty.  I’m not sure I have another twenty minutes in me.”

“Me neither.  Let’s just take it from the top, one more time,” Emily said.  “Then we’ll go to bed.”

Richard flipped back a couple of pages in his music, and looked at Emily expectantly.  She put on the metronome, listened to it for a moment, and then clicked it up one notch.

“Getting there,” she said. 

“One hundred seems like it’s going to be flying,” Richard said, noting the tempo marking on his score.

“It’s not an easy piece.  But we’ll make it.”

She turned the metronome off, and put the horn to her lips. 

They began to play.  Richard accompanied her initial four measure melody, before he repeated it alone on the piano.  As she prepared to enter with her next phrase, she stopped instead.

“Sorry,” she said, lowering her horn and staring at the music.

“Done?” he asked, hope in his eyes.

“No.  I’m just not sure we’re playing it the same way.”

“Do you want me to phrase it differently?”

“Maybe.  Listen.  Don’t play.”

Emily repeated her phrase twice.

“I think it’s bar seven that’s bothering me.  It’s a little unclear” she said, pointing to the measure in his music.

“Hmm…  I guess it could be my pedaling.  I have that jump in the left hand and the inner melody with the right.”

Richard played it a few times, trying some different fingerings and approaches.

“That’s better,” Emily said during one attempt.  “Keep the melody legato if you can, so it doesn’t get choppy.”

Richard nodded, and highlighted the top notes so he’d remember to phrase it through the measure.

“I hope I’m not being a pest,” Emily said suddenly.

“Pest?”

“I don’t know.  You’re probably going to hate playing with me since I’m constantly nitpicking every measure.”

“No, I think it’s great.”

“You’re not getting annoyed?” she asked.

“Not at all.  I’m still learning the piece, so I appreciate everything you can offer.”

Emily nodded.  “I guess I feel like I’m doing the same thing in the Serenade.”

Richard shrugged.  “We all contribute.”

“I’m always suggesting things, and you two are really awesome because you just do them.  But then later I feel like I’m being bossy.”  Emily looked down at the floor.

Richard smiled and turned around.  “Em, don’t worry about it.  You have an eye for the details, which is awesome.  Every time you point something out, I always think, ‘Why didn’t I hear that?’  I don’t think your being bossy or picky.”

Emily looked at him.  “Really?”

“Yeah.  Just say what comes to you.  I want to have the same relationship in our music that we have in other ways.”

Emily nodded, clearly relieved.  She moved her chair closer, leaning over to kiss him.  Then she put her head on his shoulder. 

“I just know it’s hard having people telling you how to play.  I’m used to it, playing in ensembles and orchestra, but I wasn’t sure if you and Sandra were okay with it.”

“So you’re saying we’re prima donnas?”

They both laughed.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Richard noted.

Emily just laughed again, rubbing her head on his shoulder. 

“I guess that answers that.” 

Richard yawned, and Emily did the same.

“I just want to fall asleep right here,” she said lovingly.

“Yeah.  You know you’re exhausted when these concrete floors start looking like the most comfortable thing you’ve ever seen.  The other night I was one minute from lying down on the ground, while I was practicing.  Luckily Sandra came by to see what I was up to.”

“Wednesday night will be nice,” Emily said.

“Sandra and I were talking earlier…”

“We’re not practicing on our first Valentine’s Day,” Emily interjected with finality.

Richard chuckled.  “No, we weren’t suggesting that.”

“Good.  Because I need a break, and I need to be loved by both of you.  The night at the Concorde was enough to keep me going for a while, and I know we’ve had couple of fun weekend nights, too.  But…”

“We’ll have fun.  Let’s ban all talk of the recital that night.”

“Sounds good to me.  What were you talking about with Sandra.”

“Huh?”

“You said you were talking about Valentine’s Day?”

“I don’t remember now,” Richard said, yawning.

“Okay.”

“What do you want to do on Wednesday?”

Emily sighed.  “Normally, I’d have some naughty thing to say right now, but I can’t even think straight.”

Richard murmured in agreement.  “We might end up eating and just passing out.”

“Sad as it sounds, that might be true.”

“No, it won’t.  We’re not even twenty yet, and here we are acting like we’re about to choose our rooms at a nursing home.  Fuck…”

Emily groaned, and stretched upright.  “You’re right.  What happened to our fun nights playing games in the room until who knows what time?  And after that we’d stay up another hour or two just kissing and touching and making love?  Seems like it was years ago.  We’d stay up until one or two with no problem.”

“The recital happened.  It’s a bear.  People weren’t kidding when they said it was a lot of work.  I love rehearsing, but it’s also so draining.  I’m having trouble seeing straight right now.”

“And you have the most work of all.”

“Well…”

“You do.  Not only are you doing your solo stuff and playing the Serenade like me and Sandra, but you’re also playing the accompaniment for both of us.”

Richard shrugged.  “I’d be jealous if someone else was up there with you.”

Emily smiled.  “Still, it’s too much.”

“I stayed light on the classes on purpose this semester.  I’m not worried.  I’ll be tired, but I think I’m rounding the corner, now that things are getting into the fingers more…  I’m actually worried more about Sandra.”

Emily looked at him for a moment.  “Yeah, me too.  She’s starting to really wear down.”

“We should massage her on Wednesday.”

“She won’t have it, since it’s our birthday parties, too.  She’s going to want to be massaging us.”

“Well, we’ll just have to say we want our present to be her body so we can massage her.”

“We can try.”  Emily seemed doubtful.

“She’s really into this conducting thing, have you noticed?”

“How can I not?  It’s all she talks about, besides the recital.”

“We should go watch her sometime.”

“She doesn’t want us to.”

“I know.  Maybe through the window.”

Emily shrugged.  “We have enough to do.”

They looked at each other.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” Emily said, reading his mind.

Richard took her arm as she turned to put away her horn. 

“Em, I love you.  Don’t stop being who you are, even if things get tough.  Keep telling me what your thoughts are on my accompaniment.  I want to do the best I can for you on the Sonata.”

Emily’s last bit of energy seemed to drain at his words.  She hugged him awkwardly, still holding her horn.  “You are the best, Richard.  I’m so glad I’m working with you, and not someone else.  You’re going to spoil me, though, because at some point you won’t be able to play for me.”

“True.  But for now, let’s enjoy it.  Sandra said that now is the time to live these feelings, and she’s right.  Let’s make this recital kick ass.”

“That sounds really hard right now!  And really far away!”

“I know…  Let’s go.  I’m about to fall over.”

They packed up and headed out, walking slowly in silence. 

A door down the hall opened, and what appeared to be a brass quintet spilled out into the hallway and said goodbye to one member still inside.  Four of the players turned and made for the stairwell. 

As Richard and Emily passed the small rehearsal room, the light went off and a horn player came out into the hallway.

It was Joel Brent.

Eye contact was inevitable.

“Hey.” Joel spoke first.

“Hi,” Emily said.  She stopped, so Richard did too.

There was a moment when no one knew what to say.

“What’s up?” Joel asked her at last.

“Rehearsing.”

“Same here.”

“Cool…”

“What ever happened with you and the cops?” Richard asked directly, quickly tiring of the standoff. 

Joel eyed him warily for a moment.  “Nothing.  Not yet, anyway.  I never heard from them again.”

“Sounds like they were just messing with you,” Richard said.

“Yeah.  I’m… Joel,” he said, putting his hand out. 

Richard offered his hand after a moment.

“We’ve met, twice, but… Richard.”

“I know it’s probably too late to say this, but I am sorry about how things went that night,” Joel said to Emily.  He also glanced quickly at Richard.

“I was just freaked out, you know.  I was strung out, and I took it out on you.  But I shouldn’t have.” 

He looked at Richard.  “Emily and I go way back.  I’m not usually a dick.  I was hardly sleeping back then, because my recital was a couple of weeks away.”

Richard laughed, which surprised Joel.  “We actually know exactly what you mean.”

He blinked at Richard, and then remembered.  “Oh, that’s right… you are giving a joint recital this semester.  I just remembered you telling me, Emily.”

“We’re already beat, and we’re still about two months away,” Emily added.

“Second semester is tough,” Joel said.  “I had the hardest time that semester.  I think there’s some unwritten code here that the teachers take it easy the first semester, and then they rip into you after that.”

“Sure feels like it,” Richard said.  He finally started feeling a little more relaxed.  Joel seemed quite different, now that he wasn’t facing a recital and jail time. 

Richard wasn’t sure which he’d choose, right then.

“It gets better, though,” Joel said with a shrug.  “Second year, you kind of get into the groove.  You’ve passed your first-year juries, so you’re pretty much through the weed out phase.  And you’re done with some of those annoying classes like piano class and English.”

“Tell me about it,” Richard said.  “I still have to take one more elective, but it feels so nice not having to take English.”

“Modern dance,” Joel said confidently.  “Easiest elective, trust me.”

“I don’t know.  I can’t dance to save my life.”

“You just move around, pretty much do whatever you want.  Heck, you can go in and say your dance is about a sack of potatoes that fell off a truck.  Flail around for a second, and then lay there for five minutes.  Easy A…”

Richard laughed.  “Well, we’ll see.  I’d probably fail, and have to take a third elective.”

“You can’t fail that class.  Anyway, we need to get out of the building.  Are you two walking out the back?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too.  I’ll walk out with you.”

“So are you done, now that your recital is over?”  Richard asked him, as they started making their way outside.

“Pretty much.  Right now I’m just working on orchestra excerpts, and I have some auditions coming up.  If they don’t work out, I might stay and get a masters.”

“Cool.  Must be nice to be finished.”

“Definitely.  Your third and fourth years are the best.  They’re hard work, but hopefully your theory requirement is done, and you have a lot more time to practice.”

“And a lot more time to make recital posters.”

Joel frowned, and then laughed hard.  “Yeah, did you see that?”

Richard grinned.

“See what?” Emily asked.

“Some girl photocopied the label of a St. Pauli Girl beer bottle, and then changed it so she was holding a bow and a violin instead of the steins,” Richard said.  “Also I think she enhanced the, uh, you know…”

“It’s pretty damn funny,” Joel said.

“Who did that?” Emily asked.

“Margo Downon.” 

“Oh, figures!” Emily dismissed.  “She’s such a tramp.  I’m surprised you even noticed the violin, from the sound of it!”

“I don’t know.  I’m thinking about going, now,” Joel said.

“Yeah, you would!”

“If she’s going to dress like that…” Richard said, shrugging.

Emily gave him a foul look as he and Joel laughed. 

Before she could say anything, Joel rescued him. 

“So, when exactly is your recital?”

“April ninth,” they both said at once.

“April ninth.  April ninth…  Good.  I probably don’t have anything.  I might try and come.  What are you playing, Em?”

“Hindemith, and Britten’s Serenade.”

“Nice.  The Hindemith is killer.  Tough to pull off, but I bet you can do it.”

Emily smiled a little.  “Thanks, Joel.”

“Well, I guess you’re going to the dorm, and I’m going that way, so I’ll catch you later, all right?”

Richard and Emily said goodbye, and then he headed off.

Once out of earshot, Emily spoke first.

“I actually knew that about the cops.”

“Oh yeah?”

“He told me at the first orchestra rehearsal this year that he hadn’t heard anything.  I hadn’t talked to him before that, but since we were playing the same concert, I kind of had to acknowledge him.”

“You didn’t tell us.”

“Well, I guess I didn’t.  I put it out of my mind, since it wasn’t really any news.”

“No news is good news in this case.  I think at this point, the incident is over.  I wish they had found the bastards, but…”

“I’m glad the pawnshop didn’t push it, and just took the horn for the hundred dollars.”

“True.  If they had questioned it, things might have gone differently.  They might have taken the horn and ran.  Who knows where it would be now?”

“Yeah, you’re right.  Scary…”  Emily shivered at the thought.  “Anyway, I’m glad Joel didn’t get nailed.”

“If you’ve seen him since, why did he just apologize tonight?”

Emily shrugged.  “Maybe because you were glaring at him.”

“I wasn’t glaring!”

“You were, at first.  I wasn’t sure why you stopped walking.  I was going to just say hi and keep going.”

“What?  You stopped!  I was going to keep walking,” Richard said, amused.

Emily laughed.  “Man, you know it’s late when we can’t even agree on something like that.” 

“I wasn’t glaring, really, but I did feel a little bristly for a few minutes.”

“And then, I couldn’t shut you up.”

“What?” Richard exclaimed.

“You just started talking like you were old friends.”

“I was tired of the awkward pauses.  He did most of the talking.”

“You went from bristly to chummy pretty fast.”

Richard swiped his card at the dorm entrance, and let Emily pass.

“Well…  What do you want me to say?  I’m not going to hold a grudge.  I don’t like the way he talked to you that night.  But I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.  Unless you want me to be angry at him?”

Emily stopped in the hall, and turned to him.  She put down her horn, and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“No.  I’m just making sure you’re not doing this for some weird reason.”

“What weird reason?”

Emily thought for a long moment.  Then she shrugged.  “I don’t know.”

“I don’t know either.”

“What are we even talking about?” Emily asked, putting a hand to her eyes.

“I don’t know,” Richard said, chuckling.  “It’s obviously time for bed.”

Emily laughed wildly, and then clung onto Richard as she fell against him.

“Look, there’s the laundry room.”

“So?” Richard said.

“Take me in there.  Fuck me,” she whispered deliriously.

“If I hadn’t been with you the last four hours, I’d say you were completely drunk.”

“We can do it on the washing machine.  I have some quarters, somewhere.  In here, I think.  Wait, I feel something…”

Richard felt her hand snake into his pocket.  He threw his head back and laughed.  “I’m almost tired enough to say yes.”

For a while Richard stood there, as Emily leaned against his chest.

“Emily?”

“Mmm.  I’m falling asleep right here.”

“All right, that’s it.”

“Carry me?” she asked in a tiny voice.

Richard laughed, and then squatted down and threw her over his shoulder.  His arms and back protested, and Emily did as well. 

“I was just kidding!  Put me down!” she squealed.

Richard leaned down, and tried to grab Emily’s horn. 

It turned out to be much too late for games.  Before he was even close to making contact with the handle, his legs gave way and they fell down in a heap.

Richard groaned, while Emily just laughed uncontrollably.  He closed his eyes, unwilling and unable to move.  The hard floor was comfortable, after all, now that he finally was trying it out.

After what seemed like an hour, Emily finally stopped her laughing.

“We’re so lame.  We can’t even get up to the room,” she said, setting off another peal of laughter.

“This is ridiculous.”

“You’re a comfy bed.  I think I’m going to sleep here.”

“We’ve gone crazy.”

There were several minutes of silence.  Richard shook her. 

“Quit it!” she murmured.  “I’m trying to sleep.”

The door to the building suddenly opened.

“Dude… What the fuck?”

Richard looked up at an upside-down Jer and Jenna, relieved it was them.

“Hey,” he said nonchalantly.

“What are you doing on the floor?” Jer asked.

“I don’t know,” Richard said.

“We’re sleeping here,” Emily said.

“Do you… like, need help?” Jenna asked, giggling.

“No.”

They all looked at each other for a while.

“All right,” Jer dismissed, shrugging.  They stepped over and disappeared around the corner.  “That’s just fucking weird,” his voice carried down the hallway.

“Get up Em, before we get trampled.”

“Come on, there’s hardly any traffic here at midnight.”

Richard started to push her off, and Emily finally responded.

Silently, they gathered their things and walked up the thousands of steps to the second floor.

Emily opened the door.  They were surprised to see a light on.

“Oh, shit!  Look… We thought we were tired!”

Richard pushed into the room and laughed.  “That’s actually kind of cute.”

Sandra was asleep.

She was at her desk.  Her hand still held a pencil, and her head was lying on some music paper.  Richard went over, and slid the paper out from under her.  There were only six notes on it.  At the top it said ‘Invention.’

He grinned and passed it to Emily, who was already undressed and putting on her nightshirt.

She took it, and laughed as well. 

“Must have been tiring to write so much music.”

Richard shook Sandra’s shoulder.  It took more than he expected to rouse her.

Suddenly she came to, and snapped her head up.  She looked around in confusion for a few seconds.

“Whoa…  What…?”

“Bedtime,” Richard said gently.

She looked down at the desk.  “Oh.  I thought I wrote my Invention.  Where is it?”

“Here,” he said, handing back the paper.  He was disrobing.  “It looks really hard.  Let me know if you want me to play it for you tomorrow.”

“Oh, no!” she cried.  “I must have been dreaming.  I thought I finished it!  What time is it?”

“Midnight.”

“Crap, I just wasted two hours…  You two look beat,” she said, as she observed their movements.

“Funny that, coming from someone who fell asleep at their desk.”

Sandra stood up.  She trudged to her closet, and stood there staring at the closed doors for a while debating whether the effort was worth the comfort.  Instead of opening the doors, she just slipped off her shoes and got under her sheets.

“To sleepy to change,” she explained.  “Get the lights when you go to bed?” she added.

Neither Richard or Emily heard her.

Another week passed slowly, and also quickly.  The one night break to celebrate the three February milestones was only a temporary relief from the grueling semester.  Even  their sexual interactions were different now.  Their usual playful and physical romps were replaced by slow, clinging lovemaking sessions, which ended in exhausted sleep. 

The exhaustion carried over into all parts of their lives, as they worked through their full schedules. 

Sandra found herself struggling to stay awake in Dr. Dobra’s class.  She eyed the clock, happy to see only a few minutes remaining.  Another long Monday is close to being over, she thought, starting to feel relieved. 

She’d probably have to fight her way through a few minutes of the Beethoven symphony in conducting class, but she had prepared enough that she wasn’t too worried about that.  The rest of the time she would be able to relax in her corner seat.  I’ll make sure to get Mr. Menlos’s attention, so I can go first…

Her only worry was possibly falling asleep on the podium.  Even though her five Monday classes occupied only six hours of class time, she really had a full ten hour block of work before dinner.  If she wanted to get any meaningful practicing in, she had to eat during piano class and practice during both two hour slots she had in between classes.  Practicing after dinner on Mondays was useless.  She had tried that twice, and returned to the room crying both times.  She was grateful that Emily had a free hour to grab some food from Crapler to bring to piano class, and that their teacher did not mind the intrusion of a sandwich or bowl of pasta. 

At last Dr. Dobra dismissed them, and she hastily threw her notebook into her bag.  She was walking to the door when he called out to her.

“Sandra, do you have a minute?”

She came over to the piano.  He was sitting at the keyboard.

“Sure.  What’s up?”

Dr. Dobra fingered a few atonal chords, and then looked up at her.

“Have you considered adding a second major?”

She stared at him.  “Second major?”

“We do have a theory major here at Wexford.  Few people do it, perhaps one or two every year.  It’s quite challenging, naturally.”

“I… I never thought about it.”

“You should.  You would have no trouble completing the requirements.  It would require you taking some additional courses beyond the standard two year sequence everyone takes.  But you are already ahead, and by squeezing in counterpoint this semester, even more so.  You could gain a lot by doing it.”

Sandra took a deep breath.  “I…”

Dr. Dobra smiled.  “You don’t have to decide right now.  I’m sure you have more than a few things on your mind.  You look quite tired.  But…  I just wanted to plant the seed.  We are a month into the semester already, and soon you’ll be deciding what to take next year.  You will, of course, be finished with the required theory core after this semester.  But, I urge you to consider going on.”

“What happens in the next level classes?”

“We continue with some of the same types of exercises: dictations, analysis, and so forth.  Naturally it gets more and more complex.  I’ve yet to see you pushed hard in the ear training area, to tell the truth, so you may breeze through it.  Still, we do other things, like learn to sight sing in more clefs, sight read from orchestra scores at the piano, analyze interesting compositions… Lots of fun things like that.  Well, I don’t know if you find that sort of thing fun, but…”

“It does sound interesting.  I don’t know…  I’m swamped as it is this semester.  I can’t imagine doing anything more.”

“Well, nothing would change for this semester, and next semester you would just add a seminar course we hold for theory and composition majors.  And take two theory classes, but that’s the same as you are doing now.”

“Are the advanced classes tiny?  You said there’s only a handful of majors in the whole school.”

“True, but the upper level ear training courses are open to anyone who has completed the core.  You’d be surprised how many people do actually take them, especially the fifth and sixth level classes.  A lot of master’s and doctoral candidates…  They realize how important theory can be to helping their playing.”

Sandra shrugged.  “Well, I’ll think about it, for sure.”

Dr. Dobra nodded and smiled.  “I can help you add the major if you want.  Just let me know.”

“Okay.  Thanks.”

Sandra hurried to conducting class, realizing she was already two minutes late.  She considered Dobra’s offer for a few moments, before putting it out of her head for the moment.

I don’t have time to even think about that, she said to herself, as she began to run through the Beethoven symphony in her head.

Richard was listening to Emily demonstrate something she was having trouble with in the Hindemith Sonata, when the door opened.

“Oh, I so need a break!” Sandra wailed as she wearily plodded into the room, tired from conducting class and the rest of her day.  She barely had dropped her bag to the floor when she collapsed onto her bed.  Her position looked uncomfortable, but she was too tired to change it.  Richard went to close the door.

“Not a rest in sight until spring break in three weeks,” Emily said, smiling consolingly at her.  “Birthdays are over.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to make it that far!  Besides, it won’t even be a break.  I need to be here, practicing, and catching up with things.  There’s no way I can go home.  I already told my parents I’m not coming.  I’m so behind!  I’m still not even close to having my Invention done.  Luckily Dobra gave everyone another week.  Who’s idea was it to take twenty credit hours?”

“We warned you,” Emily said, as she put her horn down and went over to hug her.  “You look beat.”

“I am.  First Dobra asked if I wanted to add a theory major.”

“What?”

“Add a theory major,” Sandra repeated. 

“What’s that about?” Emily asked.

“I don’t even really remember what he said.  The whole time I was just thinking, No!  I can’t even consider that until after the recital.”

“Crazy.”

“Yeah.  Then Mr. Menlos had me on the podium for like half the class, conducting through the Beethoven.  I think he picks on me because I have a disability with my patterns.  I start out fine, and then it comes time to give cues and all that, and my arm starts doing something else.”

“It’s the whole rub the head, pat the tummy thing,” Emily agreed.

“Arrgh.  It’s frustrating, is what it is!  How hard can it be?”

“Hard.  Otherwise everyone would be doing it.”

“I guess.”  Sandra beat out a pattern.  “This movement thing just gets in the way…  See!  I can’t even talk and not mess it up.  I wish I could just forget the stupid baton and just communicate through ESP or something!”

Emily laughed.  “Some conductors seem to do that.”

“I actually had a great version of the Beethoven playing in my head when he called on me.  Then I got up, and it sounded nothing like that.  Nothing!  I couldn’t tell the players what I wanted.”

“It’s like anything, Sandra.  You need to practice the technique to get the music out.  It must be the same in conducting.  This is only, what, the fourth or fifth class?”

“Fifth.  I know, I know…  I just want to be good at it, but I’m not.”

“Well, don’t go crazy.  You don’t want to burn out,” Richard said.  “Speaking of burning out, I’ve been thinking.  I got paid way more than I thought for the editing on Mrs. T’s album.  What if we hang out here the first part of spring break, and then we rent a car and drive to New York?  We can catch a few concerts, or an opera or something?  It would be fun.  I think we could use a little change up in what we’re doing, and a little inspiration.  Whenever I stand at the fountain at Lincoln Center, I remember why I play music.”

The girls looked at him.  “Can we really do that?”

“Why not?”

“It’s a little far to drive,” Emily noted.

“I shouldn’t,” Sandra said.  “I really need that time.”

“You need a break.  Short.  We’ll go out Thursday, come back Sunday.  It will be really fun.  Road trip.”

The girls looked at each other. 

“Do you have some big surprised planned again?” Sandra asked him with narrowed eyes.

Richard laughed.  “Like I have the time to do that, right now!  No, sorry…  There’s no hidden agenda.  Besides, three nights in a hotel room like the Concorde in New York would eat up my editing check in a flash.”

“It sounds like just what we’ll be needing in three weeks,” Emily agreed, glancing at Sandra.

“We’ll stay at my folk’s house,” Richard said.  “My piano is there, if we’re really dying to rehearse.  But I suggest we take the four days off.”

“A change of scenery would be nice.  I say we do it.  I’ll chip in, too,” Emily said.

“All right, I’m in too,” Sandra agreed.  She suddenly seemed to gain energy as she sat up.  “It actually sounds like a heavenly idea right now.  What will we go see?”

“We need to find some concert schedules,” Emily said.

“I know just who to call,” Richard said, smiling.

“Hello?”

“William?  It’s Richard.”

“Richard!  How are you?”

“I’m good.  You?”

“Excellent.  Do you hear what’s playing in the background?”

Richard laughed.  “You’re going to wear it out.”

“It’s a CD, luckily.”

“True.  Glad you are still enjoying it.”

“Oh, I am.  And the other CDs as well, but I’m still fascinated by the Etudes at the moment.”

“Good.  Hey, what’s going on out there, the weekend of March fifteenth?”

“March fifteenth?  Let me see… I have a hair appointment…”

“Not with you, William.  In New York.  I want to take Emily and Sandra to see a concert or something.  We’re on break and we’re coming out for a few days.”

“Oh, good!  I get to meet your two muses!”

“Who said you were invited?” Richard retorted with a laugh. 

“Heh heh…  Touché.  Hold on.  My schedules are in the kitchen.”

Richard suddenly felt a lot less tired as he held onto his grin. 

William returned after a minute.  “Let’s see here.  Friday night, we have Elektra, and… Carmen on Saturday night.  That’s at the Met, of course…  Ooh, aren’t you lucky!  Because on Friday…” William paused to increase the suspense.  “Emperor Concerto at the New York Phil with Reston!”

“That’s it!” Richard said simply.  “Look no further.”

“That does look tasty,” William agreed.  “When are you coming out?”

“Um… Probably we’ll drive out Thursday, get in late.  We’ll take off Sunday morning.”

“You could see two concerts, if you wanted to,” William suggested.  “Three even, if you want to hit the matinee at the Met.  They’re doing La Forza.  You know, the Italian Jedi opera.”

“Very funny…  I think the Phil will be good.  I’ll take them around the city on Saturday.”

“Your friends might want to see something besides piano music.  The Reston concert could be taken as a selfish choice on your part.  Trust me, I’ve been there!”

Richard laughed.  “What else is on that program, by the way?”

“A newly commissioned symphony by Holmeese.  I’ve heard some of her other works.  It’s up and down, for me, but you never know.  Could be amazing… Or not.”

“Okay, what else?  An opera would go over big with Sandra,” Richard admitted.  “Actually, it’s probably a must.  She’s only been to the Met once.”

“Well, you do have the Met, like I said.  Hmm… If you like ballet, there’s Romeo and Juliet on Saturday night.  Oh, wait a second…  That’s going to be good, too.  They’re using Neumeier’s 1974 choreography.  God, I’m going to have to go see that at some point.”

“That sounds interesting.”

“Oh, it will be more than interesting.  Very dramatic version, and the Prokofiev score is exceptional, of course.  Well worth considering, Richard.  Nothing like a little romantic tragedy for your women.  They’ll be in the palm of your hand after that.  Take it from me:  if you just go to the Reston, you’ll end up with something else in your palm that weekend.”

“All right, fine, I get the point!  I don’t remember you being this…”

“Vulgar…?” William supplied.

“…vulgar, when I was living there.”

“You’re an adult now.  That comes with a new set of challenges to deal with.”  William laughed, and then stopped abruptly.  “Okay, enough.  I need to get back to listening to this CD.  What are you going to pick?”

Richard weighed the options.  “Choices, choices.  Why do there have to be so many good things at once?” he lamented.

“It’s New York,” William said patiently.  “And we haven’t even looked outside of Lincoln Center yet!”

“Don’t,” Richard said, unwilling to hear more temptations.  He decided quickly.  “We’ll do the Met on Friday, ballet on Saturday.  That way we’ll see something different than usual.”

“But… the Reston concert?”

“I’ve seen him before.  Plus, this is for my friends, like you said.  Sandra’s obsessed with late romantic music lately, so Strauss and Prokofiev will be perfect.  She’s been playing this one piece every day since we got to school.”

“What’s that?”

“Some Schoenberg piece for strings.  I’ve blocked the name out of my head.”

“Verklaerte Nacht?”

“Yeah, that.  Emily and I have banned it while we’re in the room.”

William laughed.  “You and Emily definitely won’t want to come around here, then.  Unless you really like the CDs you sent me.”

Richard laughed.  “Can you get us tickets?”

“When did I become a box office?” William asked, trying to sound offended.

“Go ahead and get four tickets,” Richard answered dramatically.

William laughed.  “No, I was kidding.  You don’t need an old fart tagging along on your dates.”

“Yes we do.  Really.  The girls are a load of fun, and they’ll like meeting you.  Sandra thinks you sound like a character.”

“Does she?  Hmm…  It’s too bad you weren’t out here last month.  I saw a great ballet about a man who went back and forth between two women.  Very sensual.  Would have been right up your alley.”

“I don’t go back and forth, William.  Well, that’s not necessarily true…”

“Do go on…?  Please, I’m all ears.”

“Just get us the tickets, man,” Richard said, laughing.  “Wait, do they even let kids like you into the theatre anyway?”

“All right, all right, very funny!”  William paused.  “Can I call Arlene and make it five?”

“Arlene?  Are you and her…?”

“Richard!  I know I still look like I’m in my twenties, but I’m sixty-seven, for God’s sake!”

“Two words…” Richard said, grinning.  “Lindsey Walker.”

“You, my friend… are a fucker!”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that before.  Eloquently put, William.”

William laughed richly.  “I’ll get us tickets.  Four, or five, depending on Arlene.  Take care of her when she comes out in a few weeks, huh?”

“I will.”

“She could use some support.  She’s still not recovered from the torture that bastard Smith put on her.”

“Don’t worry.  I’ll try to keep her calm for the audition.  Thanks for helping her out with picking some teachers, by the way.”

“It was my pleasure… You’re a good man, Richard,” William said, his voice serious.  “Most would have pushed her away.”

Richard didn’t have an answer.

“Well, I’ll call you later to confirm.  Where do you want to sit, by the way?  Cheap, or loge?”

“Somewhere decent in between.  I’m not going to drive all the way out there to suffer in Family Circle.”

“Okay, I’ll make it good.”

“Thanks.  Oh, and uh, Arlene doesn’t really know about my situation with the ladies.  Not yet anyway.”

“What situation?” William said, laughing.

“Good man.  Okay…  You’re in charge of the tix.  This will be fun.”

“I agree.  Take care.”

“Bye.”

Richard hung up the phone.  He found himself wanting to leave for New York at that moment.

He sighed.  Off to practice again…

“Mm.  This waffle is really good,” Richard said, chewing slowly.

“Really?” Sandra asked, as she went to eat the first bite from hers.

“No, not really.”

Sandra sighed.  “Well, I’m just glad the cafeteria is open at six.”

“I’m not.  Then I’d have no excuse to get up.”

“Like we need more excuses,” Emily said.

Sandra pulled a sheet of paper out of her bag.

“We need to finalize the program so they can print them up.”

Richard pulled the paper towards him, and held out his hand.  “Do you have a pen?”

“Here.”

Richard started filling out the information.  “Whose name gets listed first?”

“Sandra, me, you,” Emily said.  “That’s standard form for the instruments we play.”

“Okay…  So, songs.  Which are you going to do first?”

“Are we sure we want to start with the songs?” Sandra said.  “They’re all kind of melancholy.  Maybe Emily should go first.”

“No.  My dad always said to start with something familiar if you can.  He’s programmed a million concerts, so I trust him.  The Hindemith is too modern.  I think the songs are perfect.”

“I could go first,” Richard said.

“Hmm.  But then the second half would be both the vocal pieces.  The Serenade has to go last, right?”

“It ends with my Epilogue.  Is it weird to end the concert with a long solo horn call?”

Richard rubbed his chin.  “I don’t know.  Not necessarily…”

They considered the choices for a moment.  At last, Richard spoke.

“I think we should stick to the original plan we figured out last year.  It made sense then, when things were fresh.  We’re obsessed with the recital now, so we’re going to be nitpicking everything.”

The girls nodded knowingly.  “You’re right.”

“So, Sandra, Emily, intermission, me, Serenade?”

“Perfect.  That’s standard order for our names, too,” Sandra noted.

“Told you,” Emily said grinning.

“Sandra, are you doing the Strauss song, then?”

“No.  I’m just going to do the Wolf lieder,” she said, resignedly.  “I don’t know if I can pull the Strauss off, with everything going on.  We’re just missing something on that one, and I don’t know what it is.”

“Me?” Emily suggested. 

Sandra patted her sweetly.

“I’m not sure I’m doing my best on the piano part,” Richard said.  “Maybe we can get a better arrangement.

“No, it’s not you at all.  I’m just not singing it right.  I haven’t captured the feeling.  And I don’t want to risk not having it in April, so it’s out.”

Richard nodded slowly in acknowledgement, and then he took down the names of the pieces they were playing, checking the spellings and movement indications carefully.  After a last proofread, they were satisfied.

“Well, it’ll be official in a few days,” Sandra said, putting the paper back into her bag.

They smiled at each other, feeling like the concert was suddenly closer.

The three of them stood in front of the corkboard in the main hallway of the conservatory.  It was crowded with pinned up recital and concert programs, arranged by date.  It took them a moment to find it amidst the sea of sheets.

“Look, there it is!” Sandra exclaimed.

They all grinned as they examined their program. 

“Looks good to me,” Richard said.

“Yeah.  We should probably put a few up somewhere else.  No one’s going to pick ours out, in this,” Emily said, waving at the board.

“Let’s go to the events office and pick up some extras after we rehearse.”

Richard pulled the girls close to him on either side.

“I’m really excited.  I can almost imagine it.”

“I’m glad we’re doing this.”

“It’s going to be awesome.  Things are finally coming together.”

Armed with renewed excitement, the trio headed off towards the practice rooms. 

Forward to Chapter 29

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