Opus One

Chapter 35: Finale - Langsam. Ruhevoll. Empfunden.

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

The moon was overhead when the first hint of eastern glow touched the horizon.  Jupiter was close by, accompanying the hemicycle as it fled from the coming sun.

Closer to the earth, strains of music tentatively began to sound; quiet hours were coming to an end.  All around, the Wexford dormitory was stirring.  The banal sounds of students trudging to the restroom to bathe were merged with the footfalls of early risers, who were already headed to the conservatory to find a better practice room.

None of this was enough to wake the sleeping trio. 

All was peaceful inside their room.  Ruddy light filtered in through the glass, and the morning breeze surged and waned like surf, occasionally slipping through the open window to sway the blinds gently. 

They slept deeply, like they hadn’t slept in months.  At first, their dreams had been filled with the music of the performance.  It was no longer the imposition it had been during the restless nights leading up to the concert.  Now, it was a reward to experience the event again in slumber. 

Later in their rest, when the quietest part of the night was reached, the recital was replaced by older memories.  They were younger for a while, reliving those moments when concerts had been just dreams themselves:  times when the shining lights and the applauding audience had been a goal, rather than a reflection of hard work, and love.

And then, they dreamt of each other, and how the music they made individually was just a part of that which they made together. 

As the trio slept, and their minds found tranquility, the threads they had worked so hard to intertwine over the past year were slowly pulled tighter and tighter…

It was close to lunchtime when the first hints of movement came.

Richard’s eyes opened slightly.  For a moment, he wondered where he was, since his father’s voice echoed in his thoughts.  It didn’t look like his bedroom at home. 

He opened his eyes further.

Finally the disorientation vanished, and he looked to either side of him, smiling.  Memories of the previous night flooded back into his thoughts, as he watched his peaceful lovers continue to sleep. 

This is my life…

Happiness welled up inside of him. 

He felt like he hadn’t looked at them in a very long while.  He took his time, gazing at every detail of their faces.  The curve of Emily’s eyelashes, the smoothness of Sandra’s cheek…  Sandra’s beautiful hair, and Emily’s cute nose…

At last he couldn’t resist, and he touched Emily’s cheek with his fingers.  Her eyes fluttered open.  For a moment, she just looked at him, her face expressionless.  Then she softened into a smile, as she too realized where she was.  Richard kissed her on the tip of the nose.

He turned to Sandra, and also caressed her face.  Emily laughed as Sandra let out a slight murmur of protest.  She was not so easily roused.

“Rise and shine, love,” Richard said.

Sandra remained still for a moment, and then sighed deeply.  As she woke up, she found Emily and Richard smiling at her.

“Let’s just stay in bed all day…” she said dreamily as her eyes closed again.

Richard laughed gently, kissing her cheek.

“You have German in a half hour,” he said.

Sandra’s eyes popped open, and her content look turned into a frown.  “If it’s really seven-thirty, I’m going to – ”  Then she saw the impish grins, and she let out a disapproving breath.

“I’m hungry,” Emily said, stretching her body against Richard’s.

“Let’s call room service,” Sandra answered.

Richard laughed.  “We should have gone back to the Concorde for the night, then.”

Sandra murmured in agreement.  “Yeah.  Why didn’t we?  That was the life.  Big bed, food and drink in the room, dancing…  Lots of yummy sex…”

Sandra grinned and turned to stretch, and promptly fell off the edge of the bed with a  surprised cry.  Richard and Emily couldn’t help but start laughing. 

“Ow!  How come I’m always on the outside?” she wailed, as she appeared in view again.  Richard held out a hand, and Sandra swatted it away.  After trying to hold a stern look for a few moments, she started laughing as well.

“Are you all right?” Richard asked, when she finally got to her feet.

“Oh, I’m fine…  Okay, let’s get up.  I guess I am hungry.  Whoa, it’s almost noon.”

Sandra stretched luxuriously, and Richard took in the sight of her body.  It was intoxicating.  She went to the mirror and tried to get rid of some crazy hair.

“Come back to bed,” he said gently.

“Yeah,” Emily agreed.

Sandra looked at them suspiciously.  “What about breakfast?”  She glanced at the clock.  “Or lunch…”

“We can eat food later.”

Sandra came closer.  “I’m not lying on the outside again.”

Richard shook his head and moved to the edge.  “Nah, you get in between us this time.”

She grinned as she slid her body over Richard’s.  “Now I really wish we had room service…”

Putting clothes on to go to the cafeteria was as unappealing as the grub they would have to eat there, so Emily dug through her closet with hope.  She found some soup and dry rice, left over from a less busy month when they still had time to make a meal in the room.  Emily held it out to Richard and Sandra, and they nodded hungrily from the bed.  She fired up the steamer and water heater, and after some time had a lunch of sorts prepared.

“Rather anticlimactic, I know,” she said, as she passed out spoons.

They greedily ate the meal, nonetheless. 

“Still better than going to Crapler,” Richard announced, after he had inhaled the food.

The girls agreed.  It was still too early to venture into the world.

The phone rang, intruding on the end of their lunch. 

“It’s your dad, Richard,” Sandra said immediately.  Even though Richard had managed to lessen Vittorio’s phone calls to only two or three per week over the course of the year, the girls still occasionally teased him about it.

“Probably wants to know what time we’re eating dinner,” Richard said.

Emily answered.  “Hello…?  Hey, William.  You’re up early.”

She laughed.  “I’m not going to comment on that.  Here, talk to Richard.  I’m still eating.”

Richard took the phone.  “What’s up?”

“What time do you want to get together?” William asked without preamble.

“I think we said dinner would be around six.”

“I wasn’t talking about dinner!  Did you want to talk about the Etudes this afternoon?”

“Um.  We can,” he said slowly.  He glanced at the girls.  Their state of undress made him pause.  “Or tomorrow…?”

“It’s now or never.  I’m taking Arlene to Baltimore, and we’re going to get on the road tomorrow morning.”

“What’s with that?  I thought you were here until this weekend.”

“A little getaway.  Clark invited us to come observe the Mahler Three rehearsals.”

Richard laughed.  “I suppose you got a photo from him, too…”

“Not yet.  We’ll spend a few days there.  Maybe we’ll see something at the Kennedy Center on Friday night.  Arlene has to get back; otherwise we’d stay for the actual concert…  But that’s over a week away.”

“Ditched!”

“Sorry,” William said, laughing.

“Nah, don’t be.  I’d go too, if I could.  Let’s meet at three, then, in the lobby.”

“Excellent.  We’ll see you then.”

Richard hung up.  “William and Arlene are going to go to Baltimore and hang out with your dad, Em.”

Emily looked at him.  “Really?”

“He invited them to observe a rehearsal or two.”

Emily smiled.  “That would be good reason to go.  Wish I could see that concert.”

Richard nodded at her.  “Go for it.”

“It’s the weekend after this one.  If you haven’t noticed, the semester is still going.”

“So?  Just go for one night.” Sandra said.

Emily considered.  “I don’t know.  Juries and finals are coming up.”              

Richard dismissed that with a wave of his hand.  “You’re not really worried about that, are you?”

Emily shrugged.  “No, I guess not.  Hmm…  I’ll think about it.”

“You could even surprise him.  Just show up at the concert, unannounced…”

“It’s just that I haven’t seen him conduct in… many years.”

“Even more reason to go, Em.  Especially now.”

Emily stared off, her mind elsewhere.

After a brief cleanup, they retreated to the comfort of the bed again.

“I realized something at the party,” Sandra said, after they spent some time just relaxing.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t know what I want, with Suzanne.”

“What do you mean?”

“I love her…  But last night I realized that besides kissing her, it can’t go any further, in that way.  Not right now, anyway.  I don’t know why, but it felt like I’d have to force it to happen.”

“Hmm…” Richard murmured.

“What?”

“I kind of thought the same about Viktoriya, when we went to the garden.  I couldn’t see anything happening either.”

“I thought you kissed her, though?” Emily asked.

Richard nodded.  “Yes, I did.  But beyond that…  Maybe it’s just the way we three came together so strongly, or maybe it’s just too hard to bring someone else into our relationship right now.  Even she knew, last night.  I feel a spark with her, but it’s not the right time…”

“I know,” Emily said.  “It’s probably because we haven’t all spent enough time with her, or with Suzanne.  But also, there’s something right about the three of us.”

“So you feel the same too, Em?” Sandra asked her.

“Yeah.  Ever since the thing with Joel, I’ve known.  Like, I find Kyle to be an interesting guy, and it’s sweet the way he treats me, but it’s not something that I would go after.  It’s weird, because we understand each other, especially after what happened with Billy.  It’s one of those things I can’t really explain.  It’s probably how you feel when you play music with Suzanne, Sandra.  Or how you share the piano experiences with Arlene and William.  Still, I keep realizing that the best thing I have is right here, next to me.”

“Yeah,” Sandra agreed.  “That’s true.”

Richard sighed.  “I guess our connections really run on so many levels.  It’s…  I don’t know…  kind of sad that we only live one life.  How many interesting relationships and events have we missed?  But then again, I wouldn’t trade us for anything, either.”

Sandra squeezed his hand.

Emily said, “But what if it does feel right, sometime later?”

“Then it will be,” Richard said.  “It will probably take just the right person, though.  I don’t know, maybe it is Suzanne.  I liked playing with her on the recital, and she’s really fun…  But I don’t know her that well.  Maybe that will change that this month.”

“I’m sure it will,” Emily said quietly.

“What’s with you and Viktoriya, then?” Sandra asked.

“She’s going to be in Hawaii for a week, and then she’ll be back in New York.  I’ll get to see her when I go back for the summer, but it’ll be as friends.  That’s really what I want, anyway.”

“Yeah right,” Emily said, elbowing him.

Richard just chuckled at the dig.  “Not everything can be, that could have been.”

Sandra sniggered.  “Deep thoughts, by Richard…”

“All right, sounds like we’ve reached the end of serious conversation,” he said, tickling them.

There were a few shrieks, and a feeble attempt at tickling back, but they soon fell quiet again with comfortable sighs.

“I does kind of feel like the semester is over,” Richard said after some time.

Emily snorted.  “That’s bad thinking, Richard!”

“I know,” he said, grinning.  “But I already missed all my classes today…  Are you going to class?” he asked Sandra.

“I think I will, just to see if Dobra is back.”  Sandra glanced at the clock.  “Oh.  Guess I should get moving, then.”

Sandra started to rise.

“Wait,” Emily said.

“What?”

“One more kiss,” she said, pulling her close. 

Richard smiled as he watched their lips touch and part.

“I’ll walk over with you, since I’m meeting William and Arlene,” he said.

“I’m going to take a nap,” Emily said, not moving to get up after they vacated the bed.

“Lazy shit…” Sandra whispered, laughing.

“Hey, I was the one who slaved in the kitchen while you two chilled!”

Everything in the conservatory was the same as it had been before the recital.  The same students chatted and went about their business.  The practice rooms were as busy as ever.  Classes went on as usual…

Sandra took her customary seat in class. 

The recital really is over…

The thought didn’t dampen the elation she still felt, though.

At three minutes before the hour, Ms. Connelly arrived.  Sandra felt a flash of disappointment.  Maybe he’s not back…

The class proceeded as always.  Sandra was distracted as she watched her fellow classmates work on dictations.  She pretended to write out the examples, but her mind was really elsewhere.  Dobra’s appearance at the recital now seemed like a dream.

But I did see him.  Maybe he did sneak in just for the recital.

Ms. Connelly called on her close to the end of class.  Sandra didn’t register her voice until the second attempt.

“Come on Sandra,” she said sweetly.  “Just one more example, then you’ll be rid of me.”

As she went to the board, Sandra looked at her quizzically, wondering what she meant.  Before she could worry about it, Ms. Connelly played the harmonic dictation example.  Absentmindedly, Sandra wrote it out, starting before Ms. Connelly had even finished. 

Rid of her?  He’s back then, or what?

She didn’t even remember putting the chalk in the tray. 

“Very nice,” Ms. Connelly said.

Sandra looked up at her work, pulled back into the classroom again.  Then she went back to her seat.

When the end of class approached, Ms. Connelly addressed the class, with her usual good natured smile.

“Today is the last day you will have me.  You may or may not have heard that Dr. Dobra is returning from his leave of absence.”

There were a few murmurs, and a few groans.  Connelly was definitely more lenient than Dobra was.

Sandra felt a smile spread across her face as the news was announced.

“He will continue from here, tomorrow.  I still have my office open to you, should you wish assistance outside of class, naturally.  That’s all, then.  Have a great day!”

Sandra immediately grabbed her things and ran out of the classroom.

Richard had taken Arlene and William down to the lower level of the building, where the practice rooms were located, and they were now making a second circuit through the hallways in search of a free piano.

One of the doors ahead of them opened up, and Richard didn’t even react.

“There!” Arlene said, hurrying.

“No piano,” Richard replied.

“Oh.”

“These rooms are so small,” William said, peering into the vacant room.  “Even without a piano.”

As they continued on, the door closed behind them as a viola player hurried in.

“There are a few large rooms for piano majors.  They’re always taken by the same five or six girls, though.  The piano mafia.”

William frowned.  “Piano mafia?  Interesting!  Show me.”

Richard led them down to the piano rooms.  “Of course, now that I said that, I’m sure the rooms will be open.”

Arlene laughed.  “Hopefully.”

They were occupied, however, as always.  Richard peered in through the small window, and then stepped aside.  “See?  There’s her friend, sitting in the room, waiting to take over.  There’s no way to get in until close to closing time.  Then you get a half hour, at best.”

“How early do they get here?”

“I don’t know,” Richard admitted, grinning sheepishly.  “Before I get up, for sure.”

William looked through the glass, and watched the pianist as she repeated a passage over and over again. 

“That’s a tricky section,” he murmured.  “Have you heard them play anything?  Do you know them?”

Richard shook his head.  “No.”

William murmured.  The music stopped for a second, and he suddenly grabbed the door handle and opened the door.

The two faces inside looked at him questioningly.

“Hello,” William announced, nodding at them seriously.  “William P. Landman, visiting pianist from New York.  Uh, I think I have this room scheduled for a lesson now.”

The two girls glanced at each other, neither finding an answer in the other’s questioning look.

“Um, okay…” one said tentatively.  “Are you sure it’s in here, though?”

“This is room… uh, 16F, right?” William asked.

The girls nodded. 

“That’s what they told me,” he said jovially.  “Well, it’s three o’clock.  Sorry to displace you, but the studio I was promised was double booked.  You know, end of semester, and what have you…  Say, will you be attending my master class on Friday?”

The girls frowned at him.  “Master class?” one asked, dubiously.

“At one o’clock.  We will discuss the proper tone for playing Schumann.”

The girls vaguely nodded and said something unintelligible.  William smiled at them aloofly as they packed up.

Richard stood out in the hallway with Arlene, trying his best to keep a straight face as the two Mafiosi walked out and disappeared down the hall.

Once they were in the room, Richard closed the door and dropped the music onto the piano.

“What the fuck was that?” he blurted out.

William grinned.  “We needed a room.”

“And when they find out you were bullshitting?”

“They won’t.  This will look like a lesson.  If they ask anyone about room scheduling, no one will know what to tell them, because we obviously didn’t schedule the room!”

“And the master class?” Richard reminded him.

William chuckled and waved a hand loftily.  “Who cares?  We’ll be in Baltimore by then.”

“Yeah, but I won’t!”

William shrugged.  “Not my fault you’re not coming.”

Richard shook his head and sat at the piano, laughing.  “You’re more of a troublemaker than I ever knew,” he said, fingering some chords.  “This piano is really nice, though.  Maybe you should move out here so you can pull this trick every day.”

William laughed.  “No, I think I’ll pass.”

“We’ll take over,” Arlene said after a moment.  “Start our own practice club.”

Richard eyed her, and then smiled.  “You’re right.  We could tag team, too.”

Arlene grinned.  “It’ll just be a matter of securing the room before they do.”

“We can alternate – ”

“All right, enough with the battle plans,” William interrupted grandly. “You two can figure that out later.  We only have a few hours before we need to get ready for dinner.  Richard, play.”

Richard laughed.  “Okay, okay…  Where do we start?”

“From the beginning.  Opus twenty-five, number one.  Here, pass us the music.”

He did so as William took a seat next to Arlene.  Clearing his mind of the fun, he considered the beginning of the Etude for a moment, and then started to play.

Sandra paused, her hand balled into a fist in front of her.  Then she rapped on the door.  For a moment, she waited, her ear listening for any sound from within.

The door handle suddenly turned, and Dr. Dobra pulled the door open.

Sandra smiled broadly at him.  “I wasn’t sure if you’d be here.”

He shrugged slightly, smiling back at her.  “Here I am.  Do you want to come in?”

“Sure.”

Sandra followed him in, and took a seat.  “I saw you last night.”

He smiled again.  “A great concert.  I should go to more of them, but then again, they might not be as good as last night’s was.  For me, at any rate.”

“Ms. Connelly said you’ll be in class again tomorrow.”

“Yes, it’s back to work.  It was a nice vacation, but now it’s over,” Dr. Dobra said enigmatically.

Sandra suddenly got the feeling she should not inquire about the details of his return, as much as she wanted to.

“I’m glad your back,” she said simply.

“Thank you.  Hopefully Anita kept things going in my place?”

“She did.”

“Good, good…  I do seem to remember asking you about being a theory major some time ago?”

Sandra smiled apologetically.  “Yeah, I know.  I’ll admit I haven’t had a chance to think about it since you asked.”

“Understandable,” Dobra said, nodding.  “Registration for next year is open now.  I don’t expect a rush of students clamoring to join fifth semester theory, but… it’s still a good idea to think about your classes for next year in case adjustments need to be made to class schedules.”

“Okay.  I’ll let you know soon.  I really need to sit down and figure out what I’m doing next year.”

“Good.  If you don’t want to add the major, you can still take the class, naturally.  It’s up to you to figure out how much you can commit to.”

Sandra nodded slowly. 

There was a brief moment of silence.  She felt like he wanted to talk about his hiatus, but she didn’t dare ask.  Perhaps he was not allowed to talk to students about it.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back,” she repeated, rising from her seat.  “I’ll see you in class tomorrow?”

“Yes, of course.”

She went towards the door.

“Sandra, one more thing.”

She turned towards him expectantly.

“I know it’s not what we’ve done before, but I’ll have to have you take the ear training and sight singing final this semester.  I need to… follow the rules.”

Sandra nodded.  “Yeah, of course.  I don’t mind.”

“No, I know you don’t.”  Dobra seemed about to say something else about it, and then waved his hand.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sandra went to the door, and turned back to him once more.

He grinned at her, and Sandra felt some relief as she stepped out of his office.

“Okay, enough, you two,” Richard protested dramatically. 

William had been demonstrating a different way of phrasing one section, when Arlene had moved to the piano to offer a third approach.   Sitting next to each other, they had grown suddenly younger, and soon their hands were starting to tickle things other than the keyboard. 

“Sorry,” Arlene said primly, returning her hands to the keys.  William just chuckled.

“I know we’ve been here for a while, and these rooms do tend to get to you, but there are windows on the doors,” Richard reminded them.

“No wild sex on the piano, dear,” William said simply to Arlene.

She backhanded his chest.  “William!”

Richard drummed his fingers in mock ennui.

“Is this how your lessons with William go?” he asked her, before thinking.  “Actually, forget I asked that,” he quickly added, noting William’s grin.

“It’s your fault,” William said.

“My fault?” Richard protested.

“You brought it up at my apartment.”

“I…” 

Arlene’s brow raised questioningly, as Richard hesitated.

“He knows,” Richard said to her.

She frowned.  “Knows what?”

“That you wanted me to talk to William, when we were there in March.”

“I know that!” she said.

“Oh, okay.”

“But he still won’t tell me about that girl you told me about!” she added, laughing a little.

Richard felt his heart twist up.  He had not forgotten about Miss Walker, but he had also put her tragic story out of his immediate thoughts.  He wondered how often William had to hear Arlene ask about her, or tease him about it, like Richard had done.

But he’s the one keeping it secret…

Arlene immediately sensed it.  William was a master at hiding that pain, even though his was a thousand times greater that of Richard’s.  But she read it right off of Richard’s face.

“What?” she asked quietly, after Richard and William shared a look.

“Sorry,” Richard said.  He looked at both of them, and Arlene didn’t know to whom he meant it.

“No, it’s all right,” William said softly.  He turned to Arlene, and took her hand.  “I’ll tell you about her on the ride to Baltimore.”

“What is it?”

“Now is not the time, or place.  Put it out of your mind until tomorrow.  It’s in the past, and nothing to worry about.”

Arlene nodded slowly.  “Okay.  Will I be… mad?”

“No,” Richard said.

“It only concerns you in that I didn’t want to scare you,” William said.  “Or hurt you.”

She nodded again. 

William caressed her cheek, and for a moment they looked at each other. 

They’ve sure bonded this year, Richard thought.

William turned to Richard.  “Well…  I suppose we should think about getting ready for dinner.”

“Yeah.  Do you need to go back to the hotel first?”

“We do,” Arlene confirmed.

Richard smiled.  “Okay.  Thanks for the lesson,” he said honestly. 

“Not a lesson, so much, but an exchange.  I learned, too,” William said.  “I am envious that you and Arlene will have all next year to discuss the piano without me.”

Richard grinned.  “Yeah, that will be a good thing,” he agreed.

William looked at him with narrowed eyes, but didn’t challenge the statement.

As they walked out of the building, William hummed part of an Etude.  Richard and Arlene joined in, and an impromptu choral version was born.  It quickly disintegrated into laughter when the notes got more chromatic.

“Are you really leaving tomorrow?” Richard asked.

“Yes,” William replied.  “I can’t pass up Emily’s dad’s offer.  Besides, you have plenty of guests to attend to here.”

“We’ll see you in a month when you come back to New York,” Arlene said.  “We’ll have all summer to hang out.”

“Well, most of the summer.  I’m probably going back to Italy.  Actually, I need to get on that, before it’s too late.”

“That will be a long time away from your ladies,” she said.

Richard laughed.  “Not so much.  I’m going to take them with me!”

Arlene stared at him wide-eyed.  “Really?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, they’re so lucky!  I want to go!”

Richard shrugged.  “Have William take you.”

William shot him a look.  “I’m already taking her to Baltimore!”

“Taking me?  I’m the one driving!” Arlene protested. 

He considered this.  “True,” he admitted.  “We’ll see.”

Arlene narrowed her eyes at him.  “We’ll see what?  What’s that supposed to mean?”

William shrugged, his face taking on an impish quality.  She pressed him for more, but he ignored her questions.

“You are impossible!” Arlene announced, waving a dismissive hand at him.  “If you’re going to say something like that, and then clam up, then I’m not talking to you.”

William turned to Richard.  “Let me know when you book your flight,” he said.

Richard laughed as Arlene turned back to William, her sudden indifference quickly lost.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she repeated.

William winked at Richard. 

“Well, I’m off to the dorm,” Richard said, branching off to cross the grass.  “See you in an hour!”

William extended his hand in a wave, and Richard quickly left behind a flustered Arlene and grinning William.

When Sandra entered the dorm room, she found Emily sitting at her desk.  Her mother’s violin case was open before her.

“Wish you played violin instead of horn?” Sandra asked gently.

Emily smiled wistfully at her.  “A little.  But also not.  I never could play any stringed instrument, when I tried a few times.  I guess I’m more like my dad in that way.”

Sandra nodded.  “The horn is your calling.”

Emily shrugged.  “Yeah…”

She seems down, Sandra noticed.  “How are you doing?”

“I’m all right.”

“You must still be overwhelmed by the violin…”

“Yeah.  It’s good to see it again, but also sad to know my mom won’t play it ever again.”

Sandra put an arm around her shoulder.  “When you think of her, can you hear her playing it?”

“Like she is in the room,” Emily agreed quietly.  “But no one else can.”

“I know,” Sandra said, understanding.

Emily looked up at her.  “Can you play something on it?”

Sandra took a step back, shaking her head.  “No.”

“Why?”

“I – I don’t know anything that I could play on an instrument like that.”

“It doesn’t matter what you play, Sandra.  It’s music.  There’s no rulebook inside the case.”

Sandra eyed the instrument warily as Emily stood up. 

Emily undid the bow clasp, picked up the violin and held it out to her.

“Em, no…”

“Please.”

Sandra relented after a moment, and reached out a slightly shaking hand.  She took the bow.  Her other hand hesitated, though.

Who else has played this violin?

Her hand moved closer, and at last she closed her fingers around the neck.  For a few seconds, she held it at arm’s length.  Then she slowly settled the chinrest into place, and took a deep breath.

Emily sat down again, waiting expectantly.

Fragments of music swirled around in her head, none of which she wanted to play.  She stood there, unmoving for some time.

“Richard said you played something beautiful the day Billy passed on,” Emily said quietly.  “I’d like to hear it too…”

Richard heard…? 

Sandra shivered, and then put the bow to the strings.

She was completely unprepared for how the instrument responded.

With a mix of amazement and fear, she played for a few minutes, quietly sounding out the simple melody.  After finishing softly, she held the instrument in place, looking at Emily over the purfling.

Emily smiled a little.  “That was nice, Sandra.  Not so bad, was it?”

Sandra lowered the instrument and reverently handed it back to Emily.  “Whoa.  That’s…”

“What?”

Sandra considered for a moment.  “I think one reason I went into singing is because I could never really connect with instruments like I could with my voice.  The piano, the violin…  It always was harder to really make music on those than to just sing it, for me…  But that…  It’s so different.  It’s like an extension of me.  I can feel the instrument resonating; not just against my chin, but like it is my voice…  I can’t imagine how it must feel to someone who can really play it.  Like Suzanne.” 

“Yeah.  That was pretty amazing last night,”  Emily agreed, her thoughts distant as she loosened the bow.  “You’re welcome to play it, whenever you want.”

Sandra sniffed.  “Thanks, but don’t tempt me.  I can’t afford to get lost in playing your violin, and I’m pretty sure I would, if I play it any more.  The last thing I need right now is more things on my plate!”

“I know.  But still, if the mood strikes you, don’t hesitate.”

Sandra nodded, and hugged Emily as they looked down at the violin.  “That’s beautiful.”

Emily nodded, and then closed the case.  It seemed to sweep her melancholy mood away somewhat, and she turned to Sandra with a smile.

“So is he back?”

Sandra nodded.  “He is.”

“Did you talk to him about the whole thing?”

Sandra shook her head.  “I got the feeling I shouldn’t ask.  Maybe he’s too embarrassed, or wants to put things behind him.”

“Or he’s not allowed to talk about it.”

“Maybe.  At any rate, he still wants me to be a theory major.”

“Are you?”

“I’m still thinking about it.”

“What about Mr. Menlos?  Didn’t he want you to work with him on conducting?”

“Still thinking about that too,” Sandra said, laughing.  She pointed at the black case.  “See!  Don’t tempt me with that!”

Emily chuckled.  “Too late…”

Sandra sighed and sat on her bed.  “No, I can control myself.  You do have it insured and everything, right?”

“Oh, for sure.  My dad gave me a copy of the papers last night.  Although, I will be needing to make a change to the policy.”

Sandra frowned questioningly at her, but they were distracted by sound of Richard unlocking the door.

“Ah, here comes our love,” Emily said, moving to the door to greet him with a big kiss.

“Mmm,” he murmured.  “That’s one way to come home.”

Emily smiled warmly.  “Home?”

“…is wherever the two of you are,” he added.

Sandra pulled them both into a hug.

“Eloquently put, Richard,” Sandra said, imitating William and garnering a laugh from them.

“We need to talk,” Richard announced, when they had separated.

“What about?”

“I’ve been slacking.”

“With…?”

“Figuring out our summer.”

The girls turned to him with interest as he continued.

“If we’re going to Italy, we need to book flights.  Otherwise we’ll be out of luck.  I hope we’re not too late.”

“I’m in,” Emily said immediately.

Sandra looked at him.  “How much is a ticket?”

“Um, usually about seven or eight hundred.”

Her face sank.  “Oh…  I’ve been saving my ushering money, but I’m not even close.”

Richard smiled.  “I still have my money from the editing project, since William ended up treating us to the concerts in New York.”

“No, you can’t use that.  That’s your money.  You need it for your ticket, anyway.”

“I’m going to work with my dad when I get back.”

“Richard…”

“I really want you both to come.”

Emily came close to them.  “I’ll help too.  My dad doesn’t want me to return the money he gave me when he pretended to sell the violin, so I need to use it on something, heh heh.  There’s enough for hundreds of tickets…”

Sandra looked back and forth between them.  “I so want to say yes, but I wouldn’t feel right letting you – ”

“Oh, just say yes, then!” Emily blurted out.

“Yeah,” Richard agreed.  “If you really feel the need, you can pay us back later.”

Sandra wavered, and then finally nodded her head.  Incredulity spread across her face.

“Cool,” Richard said, grinning.  “I’ll let my dad know, and he can get us our tickets when he gets back home.  He knows someone in New York who has good rates.”

“When would we go?” Sandra asked, her voice quietly excited.

“June.  We usually spent a month there.  How long could you go for?”

Emily shrugged.  “If I bring my horn, I can go for whatever.”

“I guess I could do that, too.  We’d stay in your family’s house, right?”

Richard nodded.  “It won’t cost any more to stay longer, since there are no hotels to worry about.  We might spend a little more on food, but it’s not a big deal.”

“I’ll ask my parents tonight, just to check,” Sandra said.  “I was just going to be practicing all summer, at home.”

“You can do that in Italy,” Richard said.

Sandra smiled.  “I don’t know…  There will be so many distractions.”

“Emily and I will lock you in a room while we go out, then.”

“No!  I’ll be good, I promise!” she cried.

Richard laughed.  “Well, let me know.  My parents already have their tickets.”

Sandra took their hands in hers.  “This is crazy!”

“What?”

“Going to Italy with you two!”

She started jumping up and down in excitement, like a child.

Richard and Emily laughed, and even joined in.

Over the course of the week that followed the concert, things returned to normal for the trio.  The immediate high of the recital turned into a rosy memory, and one by one those who had traveled to Wexford for the event went back to their homes.  Kyle stayed an extra day, unwilling to leave Emily so quickly.  Sandra’s and Richard’s parents stayed through to the end of the week, but eventually work demanded that they leave as well.  Allison was last to go, and the night before she left, Suzanne invited her and the trio over for dinner.

Sandra found herself cooking with Suzanne in the kitchen again, much like she had some weeks ago when the world had been upside down.  Despite chatting with Suzanne a few times in the hallways, Sandra felt like she hadn’t spent any time with her since the recital.  The semester would be over in four weeks, and then Suzanne would be gone.

But with family here, and Suzanne getting ready for the last orchestra concert, I should have expected not to see her all that much.

Allison had yet to arrive, having picked up Emily and Richard earlier in the afternoon for a last minute tour of the lab she was working in.  Sandra had been interested, but had also promised Suzanne she would come help with the meal.

“So, how does it feel to be done?” Suzanne asked.

“I’m hardly done,” Sandra replied, looking at her quizzically.  “Finals, juries?  Don’t you have that when you are a senior?”

Suzanne laughed.  “Sure, but it’s not a big deal.  Juries are just a formality, if you are doing well.”

“I guess I’m doing well.”

“Oh, you’re doing well.”

“And you?” Sandra asked.  “Are you ready?”

“I think so.  I kind of wish I got picked for an earlier orchestra concert, because then I’d really be finished, but so it goes.”

“It’s a honor, though, to be the soloist on the last concert of the year.”

“Yeah, I know.  I’m also ready to move on though,” Suzanne said openly.  “I’ve been playing this concerto all semester, and I hate to say it, but I’m getting a little burnt out on it.  I’ve taken it basically as far as I can go, and now I’m just sitting on it.”

“I know what you mean.  I felt that way for a while with the songs I sang on the recital.  A month ago, I was getting to that point.  Then all that stuff happened, and it ended up breathing new life into them.”

Suzanne chuckled.  “Yeah… That’s what I need, new life.”

“Well, part of it was meeting you.  The reason I put the Strauss back on the recital was because of you.  That’s what was missing, even though I didn’t know it.”

Suzanne paused from cutting up the eggplant and smiled sweetly at her.  “Thanks, Sandra.  And meeting you has changed my playing too.  The only problem is that you won’t be conducting next week.  I love Gary to death, but I’ve never felt anything like what I felt with you during the recital, or when you conducted the Schoenberg.”

“I’m sure it will be good, though.”

“Maybe we can slip something into Gary’s water bottle right before the show…”

“Why?”

“So you could take his place!” Suzanne said, biting her lip as she grinned.

Sandra burst out laughing.  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!  That sounds like a scene from a cheesy movie…”

Suzanne still was grinning.  “But it would be cool…”

Sandra gestured wildly.  “For who?  I don’t even know the piece.”

“You have five days.  Plenty of time!”

“Oh, you’re just messing with me!”

Suzanne giggled.  “I know.  But I also meant what I said.  It would be better if you were up there.”

Sandra took a deep breath to clear the mirth.  “Someday, Suzanne.  Someday.”

Suzanne nodded, her expression suddenly serious.  “I’m going to miss you when I’m in L.A.”

“I know.  Then again, we might be seeing each other more than we might think.”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe,” Sandra said vaguely.  “Never mind.”

Suzanne looked at her thoughtfully.  “She turns mysterious…”

Sandra started to speak, and then stopped.

“When do you leave for L.A.?” she finally asked.

“I’m leaving a week from Monday.  Have a truck rented, and all.”

A week from Monday!  Nine days? 

Sandra looked at her wide-eyed.  “Really?  That soon?  You’re – you’re not going to walk at graduation?”

“No.  I came to Wexford to study with John, and get a good position somewhere.  That’s done.  I don’t have any finals, and like I said, juries are a formality.  I’m done, after this Thursday.  I don’t care about the paperwork as much:  they’ll mail me my diploma, I think.”

Sandra nodded sadly.  “Wow.  Why are you going to an orchestra, instead of doing solo work?”

“I’m a sucker for orchestra, I guess.  I love being concertmistress, and I love sitting on stage with a hundred other musicians.”

“I can understand that, just a little bit, from Gary’s class.”

“Yeah… Besides, I get to do some solo work with the symphony.  On the fourth or fifth concert series, I’m playing a concerto with them.  It’s kind of like my introduction to their audience.”

“What are you going to play?”

“Not the Tchaik!” Suzanne said.  “They wanted that, since it’s a big draw, but I said no.  I’m going to do Prokofiev’s Second, instead.”

“That’s so cool, Suzanne.  I can’t wait to hear how it goes.  Are you nervous?”

Suzanne grinned.  “Not yet.  One show at a time…”

“It’s nice to have something like that to look forward too.  The three of us were talking about another recital next year, but I’m not sure if we will do one, or not.  Rumor has it we’re getting a guy in to direct an opera next spring.”

“That would be awesome!  I’m sure you’ll have fun doing that.  Plus you have Jeff’s concerto to conduct.”

“Oh, yeah.  I guess he told you?” 

“Are you kidding?  That’s all he talks about!”

Sandra winced.  “Well, I’ve been trying not to think about it at all.  It’s a little freaky.”

“No, it’s something to look forward to,” Suzanne reminded her.

“True…”

Soon after, there was a knock on the door.  When Suzanne opened the door for Allison, Emily and Richard, she let out a low whistle after greeting them.

“Oh, no…”

“What?” Emily asked.

“You had to bring it?”

“I’m carrying it everywhere with me,” she explained.

Suzanne nodded, her eyes lingering on the violin case.  “I don’t mind, really.  But… It’s like a drug.  A really good drug…”

Emily laughed.  “Well, after dinner you can get high for us, then!  I’d love to hear you play some more.”

Suzanne nodded greedily.

At dinner, Sandra found herself somewhat conflicted.  Besides coming to Suzanne’s on her own to cook, she had also intended to bring up how she felt about her.  But during the food preparation, it never seemed like the right moment. 

Allison’s boyfriend had given Sandra an out.  Maybe Suzanne leaving for L.A. is why I can’t say anything…

But she knew that wasn’t true either.  The only thing she knew is that the truth was hard to tease out.

“I wish I was here for your concert next week,” Allison said to Suzanne.  “Is this your first concerto?”

“No,” Suzanne said.  “I’ve done a number of them, here and there.”

“What’s it like, to be up there with the orchestra?”

Suzanne laughed.  “It’s incredible, really.  It’s a challenge, playing over everyone else, but most of the conductors I’ve gotten to work with have kept the orchestra under control.  Gary is pretty good about that.”

“You should see if your orchestra will let you do a concerto with them,” Sandra said to Allison.

Allison shook her head.  “I wouldn’t be so presumptuous!”

“I’m sure they’d love it.  Sounds like you are among the better players in the group.”

“What orchestra?” Suzanne asked.

“Oh, just a local orchestra, back where I live.  Nothing special.”

“I don’t know…  I had some really great shows with my local group, when I was growing up.”

Allison blushed.  “I didn’t mean to say they didn’t play well.  Just that they’re not the L.A. Philharmonic, or anything.”

Suzanne smiled.  “The people in the small orchestras love to play music as much as those in the biggest.  And they really get energized if someone better than average participates.”

Allison looked at Suzanne thoughtfully.  “I never thought about it that way.”

“You should ask about doing a concerto,” Suzanne urged.

She laughed.  “I’d be scared, for sure.  I can hide in the orchestra without too much trouble, but stand out front?”

“My first few times, with the regional orchestra back where I grew up, I was pretty freaked out.  But once I got over that, it’s been great.  It made playing in the group so much better.”

“Suzanne’s playing a concerto with her new orchestra in the fall,” Sandra said.

“Sweet,” Richard said.  “Are you excited about L.A.?”

“Oh yeah,” Suzanne answered brightly.  “I can’t wait…  Although, I will miss this place.”

After dessert, Suzanne seemed to be on pins and needles.  Emily grinned when Suzanne shot up out of her chair at Emily’s suggestion that she play some music.  After admiring the instrument for some time, she tuned up and stood in the middle of the living room, facing the window.  The four guests migrated to the comfort of the couches.

“Oh, it’s not a concert,” Suzanne said dismissively.

“Why not?” Richard said, stretching out next to Emily. 

Suzanne looked at the expectant faces.  “Well… I hope you don’t mind hearing some more Bach.”

No one protested.

Suzanne started with a Gigue, a lively dance tune from the second Partita. 

Although the complete surprise she had felt at Irina’s party had dissipated somewhat, the awe had not.  The instrument seemed to be even more sensitive tonight, perhaps from being played a little after its long slumber.

Suzanne took the repeats in the music, not wishing to stop exploring the phrasing she could create.  The quietest playing was so smooth, and yet when she urged the bow to bite, the instrument bit back. 

When the movement ended, the others clapped for a moment.  Emily had a light in her eyes, and she was smiling warmly.

“Thanks,” Suzanne said, somewhat shyly.  Then she took a deep breath.  “I guess I’m warmed up now, so I’m going to try the next movement.”

The real test…

Richard sat up straight as Suzanne drew out the slow melody which began the Chaconne.  A long time ago, his piano teacher had assigned him to learn the Brahms piano transcription of the piece.  Initially it was an exercise for his left hand, but he grew to like the music as well.  Despite that, he had never sought out the original version on a recording, and now he found himself wondering why not.

He liked the piece on the piano, but it was sublime on the violin.  The three and four voices could be drawn out and made to grow, unlike on his own instrument, where sound diminished once a key was struck.

Suzanne played passionately through the first section, her bow attacking the strings, and at times even bordering on being violent.  The violin took the punishment, and never grew shrill.

More and more he was drawn into the music, as it moved through variations of introspection and intensity.  Suzanne was beginning to flush as she played, and clearly was caught up in the moment. 

Richard didn’t expect to see her working so hard, but then again, he realized he had really only seen her play the Strauss with Sandra and him, and the Bach at Irina’s house.  While the violin part on the recital piece was beautiful and emotional, it presented few technical challenges. 

Nothing like the Chaconne…  And at Irina’s, she was probably holding back.

She didn’t hold back now.  She reached a section of arpeggios which started somewhat quietly but quickly grew in power.  The violin sang even fuller as Suzanne accented the melody on the lowest string.  Richard couldn’t imagine things getting any more intense, and she was not even halfway through the fifteen minute long piece.

Suddenly, she stopped abruptly.  As her bow flew off the strings, the violin made its first unpleasant sound, perhaps in protest at having been cut off at such a climactic moment.

Suzanne was staring at the instrument as it moved up and down, in time with her heaving chest.  Everyone waited silently.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. 

“Keep going,” Sandra whispered.

“It’s too overwhelming.  I can’t play on this instrument like I’m used to.  It just explodes!”  She rubbed her arm for a second.

“Keep going…”

Suzanne’s eyes narrowed and she slowly turned her head towards Sandra.  They shared a look, and Sandra smiled slightly.

Suzanne took a slower breath, and then reset herself.  She returned to the beginning of the arpeggios, trying the section again.

This time, she controlled the buildup with better pacing, but stopped again in the same place.

She lowered the instrument from her chin.  “I can’t play it.  I’m not used to getting such a response from a violin, and it keeps getting ahead of me.  Sorry.”

Emily frowned slightly.  “Is there something wrong with the setup?”

Suzanne shook her head.  “It’s not the violin.  It’s me.  I can adjust to it, but not on that piece.  Not on the Chaconne.”

Suzanne looked at the violin reverently. 

“Give me a few hours, maybe…” she added, chuckling at the idea.  She held the instrument out to Emily.  “Like I said, it’s a drug.  Incredible…”

Emily stood and moved closer to Suzanne.  She didn’t take the violin from her hands, but looked her in the eyes. 

“I know you are playing the Tchaik concerto in a few days, so if it’s too close, I understand.”

Suzanne was looking at her, not understanding the relevance of the statement.

Emily took a deep breath, and then smiled.  “I would love it if you played my mother’s violin.”

Suzanne seemed to lose her balance for a moment as she swayed, her face unbelieving.

“What?” she whispered.  “Play it…  this Thursday?”

“Well, I know you just said that you’re not used to it, but – ”

Suzanne was breathing heavily as a wondrous smile spread across her face.  “No, I just meant tonight.  I can’t play that piece tonight, without getting to know the violin better.  It’s too hard.  But the Tchaik… in five days…  I don’t know.”

“New life,” Sandra said quietly. 

Suzanne turned to her, again sharing a look for a moment.

“I – I can try.  But I’d have to practice on it.”

“I’ll leave it here with you,” Emily said.

Suzanne’s face was visibly moved.

“Are you sure, Emily?” she asked after some time.  “I know what this violin means to you.”

“I’d love to hear you play it next week.”

Suzanne suddenly felt her throat tighten as she pulled Emily into a hug. 

Am I dreaming again?

She stepped back, and looked at Emily carefully, shaking her head.  “I must be crazy, thinking about switching to a new instrument this close…  But, it feels so right to play.   I just need a few days to get used to its response…  I have to admit I even have been having daydreams about playing it.  But I never thought something like this would happen.”

“You are the perfect match for it,” Emily said simply.

“I can’t believe this.  I am so… honored,” Suzanne said quietly.  “I’m going to try.  And if I do, I hope I can live up to it.”

“You will,” Emily said. 

The audience hushed expectantly as orchestra finished tuning.  Richard sat between Sandra and Emily in the center of the fourth row, seats they had secured through Sandra’s ushering connections.

The side door opened, and Suzanne walked across the front of the stage to rousing applause from the packed house. 

Her reputation precedes her, Richard thought.  He was somewhat amazed at the response she received, having not yet played a note.

What’s going to happen at the end?

Once he got the nod of readiness from Suzanne, Mr. Menlos turned to the orchestra.  With careful control, he started the concerto.  The strings responded to his beat and played the simple theme that set the stage for the coming half-hour.  With expected Russian flair, Tchaikovsky quickly moved the music to the more dramatic, and soon the cadence led into Suzanne’s first phrase.

Richard squeezed Emily’s hand as the first low notes of the violin filled the hall.  Twenty-five feet away on stage, Suzanne closed her eyes as the phrase arched up to its high note, and then settled back down. 

Wow…  This is going to be good.  

Barely a minute into the piece, the many hundreds in the audience were captivated.  The instrument, in Suzanne’s capable hands, spoke immediately to everyone present.

Richard looked over at Emily as the main theme of the first movement began.  She was spellbound.  She didn’t even appear to notice Richard turning to her.

Maybe she’s imagining her mother there…

You are the perfect match for it, Emily had said of Suzanne. 

Suzanne was playing like she was possessed.  She had no trouble penetrating through the accompaniment of the orchestra behind her, so full was the sound of the instrument.

The perfect match…  How true, Richard thought, as he listened.

The first movement cadenza was a work of art.  The incredibly sweet tone of the violin at times sounded like a human voice.  Richard felt like he was floating as the final trill led to the return of the orchestra. 

No one could stop their hands from applauding as the first movement came to a close.  The house erupted before Mr. Menlos had even cut the orchestra off.  Richard felt a huge surge of emotion, and he wondered what Suzanne had to be feeling as she looked out into the packed hall.

She acknowledged with a slight nod, and then turned to Mr. Menlos.  The audience quickly quieted.  Even though it would be unheard of for him to start the slow movement during the remaining applause, they crowd dared not miss a note, just in case.

Again the orchestra provided a brief introduction to the thematic elements of the movement, before Suzanne came in.

It seemed as if even the quietest sounds of the instrument could carry to every corner of the hall easily.  The slow melody had so much expression that Richard found himself struggling to stay relaxed.  His body and face were tight from the emotion.

Mr. Menlos kept the orchestra just beneath Suzanne in volume, following her movements as she shaped the violin lines. 

Eventually the sad song came to an end, and the orchestra left off with a final commentary before launching into the dramatic closing movement.  The sadness shaken off, Richard sat up straight as Suzanne poured fire through the bow and strings and attacked the short solo that preceded the full statement of the theme.

Damn…  She’s amazing…

At one point, during a particularly energetic run, a small smile passed across Suzanne’s lips. 

It must be so fun to be able to be up there, playing like that with the orchestra behind you…

The movement alternated between the exciting and the introspective several times, but even in the quietest moments, there was an underlying energy to the performance which kept everyone’s eyes glued to the stage.

What more can she do?

Already Richard felt like he had been pressed in a vise.  As the last fast section grew from almost nothing, the simmering energy that had pervaded the movement was suddenly left to grow unchecked by both Suzanne and Mr. Menlos alike. 

With a series of impossible double stops, Suzanne pushed the violin harder and harder.  It seemed to take delight in this, however, and it never faltered.  Richard felt like he was watching two beings play the concerto. 

Suzanne reached her limit before the violin did.  She looked suddenly like she was on the edge of losing command of her playing.  The energy had exploded and the last thirty seconds were a race to see if she could keep up with the intensity she had established.  To back down was impossible; it was either finish what she had started, or lose control altogether, like she had during the Chaconne some days previous.

It was all Richard could do not to stand up right then.

Mr. Menlos drove the orchestra on as Suzanne executed the last few ascending scales with determination.  Her body arched and bent as she fought to keep playing. 

At last, she reached the end.  Two last notes from her, and two echoed in the orchestra, and the piece was over.

People were on their feet before the sound of the last chord reached the back half of the hall.

The place sounded like a stadium of a hundred thousand.

Suzanne stood as still as stone for a moment, her face a mixture of relief and amazement.  Then she at last lowered the instrument.  She immediately found Emily with her eyes, and smiled at her for several long seconds.  Emily had her hand over her mouth as she fought off tears. 

Suzanne at last acknowledged the rest of the audience.  She was called to the stage three times.  Despite some calls for one, Suzanne did not play an encore since it was not permitted at Wexford.

When the last bit of applause petered out, Emily sank back down into her chair.  Richard and Sandra remained standing, stretching out the tension that the piece had caused.

“Are you all right?” Richard asked Emily.

“Yeah.  Wow…  She’s incredible.”

“I wasn’t sure she was going to make it, at the end,” Sandra said, her voice touched with relief.  “But she hung on.”

“Do you two want to stay for the Shostakovich?” Emily asked.

“We don’t have to.  We can go hang with Suzanne in the green room.”

Emily nodded, and stood.  “I’m shaking a little.”

Richard smiled and offered a hand, and they slowly filed out of the hall with the rest of the audience.

The green room was surprisingly full, considering it was only intermission.  The trio waited in the rehearsal room for the crowds to clear.  They chatted with Jer over the noise of musicians warming up.  He held his bass casually against him, waiting for the stage to be reset for the expanded forces that the second half of the concert required.

“Did you watch that?” Sandra asked him.

“Nah.  I was warming up.”

“Really?  You missed an amazing performance,” she chided.

“Sounds like it.  People were going ape shit in there.  I heard a little of her playing at the first rehearsal, though.  I was supposed to play the Tchaik, but I guess Menlos got pissed at me and moved me to the back stand.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.  The usual, I guess.  Goofing off… That’s what he said.”

Sandra gave him a disapproving look.  “You, goofing off?”

Jer laughed her sarcasm aside.  “I know, right?”  He glanced at the stage manager, who announced that the stage was prepared.

“All right,” Jer said, hefting his bass.  “I’m out.  Time to fuck with Gary.”

“You’re going to do that on the concert?” Emily asked.

Jer grinned.  “Last one of the year; what can he say?”

With a snigger, Jer fought his way through music stands and instrument cases.  “Bass coming through!” 

The trio stayed out of the way as the musicians hurried out of the rehearsal space.

“Have you ever seen him in rehearsal?” Emily asked.

Richard and Sandra shook their heads.

“When the music gets exciting, he starts making faces and sometimes he’s head banging.  It’s pretty funny.  Mr. Menlos gets mad, because people start laughing.”

“Maybe that’s how he feels the music,” Sandra said, sniggering at the image.

“Yeah, but it’s Jer, you know?” Emily said.  “I can’t look at him when I’m playing, or I mess up because my lips start turning into a smile!”

After following the last of the musicians out into the hallway, the trio entered the green room.  The crowd had dissipated significantly, since the Shostakovich was about to start.  Suzanne was still surrounded by some dozen admirers, including a few who looked to be related to her.

She caught sight of the trio right away, and escaped the circle of people around her to rush over and give them hugs.  She held on especially tightly to Emily.

The three of them congratulated her enthusiastically, and Suzanne at last let out a breath.  She appeared to not be able to diminish the smile on her face. 

“That was so, so fun…!” she said, laughing.  “Come, I want you to say hi to my family.”

Suzanne led them back to the other people in the room, and made the introductions.

“Emily’s the one who let me borrow her violin for tonight.”

Emily nodded shyly as they turned to her with sudden interest.

“That is one fine instrument,” Suzanne’s father said emphatically.  “Do you play?”

“No, I play the horn,” Emily replied, laughing slightly.  “Never got along with the violin all that well.”

“Wow…  How did you come by it, then?”

“It’s been in my mother’s family for a long time.”

Emily showed signs of becoming emotional.  Suzanne seemed to detect it, because she deflected the conversation to mention the trio’s recital, and how well it had gone.

After a few minutes, the stage manager entered the room, warning everyone of the impending start.  Suzanne’s family and friends wanted to listen to the second half, so they hurried off to find their seats.

“You’re not going to watch?” Suzanne asked the trio, when they didn’t depart.

“No,” Emily said.  “We can hang out with you, if you want.”

Suzanne nodded.

“I do want to see if Jer does it, though,” Richard said. 

“Me too.  We can slip into the wing and peek,” Sandra offered.

“Who?” Suzanne asked.

“Jer Ascher?” Richard said.

“You know…”  Emily imitated holding a bass, and bopped her head around.

Suzanne started laughing.  “Oh, yeah!  That guy is funny as hell.”

“You want to go watch now?” Richard asked.

“Wait until later,” Emily suggested, “when things get rocking.”

The four of them sat down.  Suzanne seemed to relax for the first time since the concert had ended.

“People were asking me about the violin,” she said to Emily.  “They loved how it sounded out there, so loud and full.”

Emily nodded.  “Good.  Sounds like you got pretty comfortable with it.”

Suzanne nodded.  “It just took a little time playing it to figure out how it would respond.”  She chuckled wistfully.  “Now I have to unlearn it all, going back to my violin.”

“No, you don’t,” Emily said slowly.

“If I play my violin like that, it doesn’t react so well,” Suzanne explained.

“That’s your violin now,” Emily said, looking at Suzanne meaningfully.

She appeared not to hear.  “When I push it, it kind of reaches this ceiling and starts – What did you say?”

“That’s your violin now,” Emily repeated.

Suzanne stared at her for a long moment, and then burst out laughing.  “Emily, don’t tease me!  I appreciate you letting me use it, but…”  Suzanne trailed off.  “What are you talking about?”

“I want to loan it to you, for the long term.  Really.”

Suzanne slowly descended into disbelief.  “Emily, I’m not around for the long term.  I’m leaving for L.A. in a few days.”

Emily smiled.  “And you’re taking it with you.  Just please carry it on, when you’re on the plane, okay?”

“I’m driving a truck,” Suzanne said absently.  “You’re serious?” 

Emily nodded, her face hopeful.

Suzanne stood up, her face suddenly in shock.  “I can’t accept this!  I mean…  No!”  She laughed uneasily, and then her face turned sympathetic.  “Emily.  You are too sweet.  I – I really love this instrument.  I mean, really, really love it.  Who wouldn’t?  But…  But it’s yours!  And your mother’s…  I know what you’ve been through, and how this is your link with her.  So taking it with me would be like… like taking a part of you!”

Emily smiled and nodded.  “I know.  And taking a part of my mom, too.  When I closed my eyes tonight, she was alive again.  I don’t want it to sit in my closet.  It’s been doing that for years, and I really didn’t like the idea.  I don’t play, so the next best thing is to let someone else play it.”

Suzanne shook her head.  “But, you won’t be able to look at it!  Or even hear it, if I have it.”

Emily smiled.  “I’ll come to L.A. for some of your concerts.”

Suzanne struggled to speak.

“Suzanne, I’ve been without this violin for years,” Emily said quietly.  She tapped the side of her head.  “I already know how it sounds.  I don’t want to be the only one, though.  I remember my mom in other ways besides looking at her instrument.  I don’t need to see it, or touch it, to be able to hear her play for me, anymore.  I learned that a while ago.”

Suzanne was in tears now.  “This is too much,” she said, her voice overwhelmed. 

Emily moved beside her and put her arms around her. 

“You were amazing, tonight,” she whispered.  “I know you never knew my mom, or her playing, but you have a similar style.  And playing her violin…  The hairs on my arm were up for the whole thing.”

Suzanne looked at Emily with wet eyes.  “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll take it.”

“My god…  I can’t believe this.”  She nodded after a moment.  “Yes, of course.  If you really want this…”

“I do.  I really do,” Emily said.

Richard punched the code on the control room door lock, and then let Sandra pass through before quietly slipping in and closing the door silently.  The dim room was filled with the sound of the orchestra.

Dave glanced up from his chair in front of the mixer, and waved them in from the anteroom. 

“Evening, Sandra, Richard.  Good concert, huh?” he said.

“Yeah,” Richard agreed.  “All alone tonight?”

“Are you suggesting I can’t handle it?” Dave asked.

Richard shrugged, his face mischievous.

Dave laughed.  “Everything sounds good, so Jake just took off.  What brings you up here?”

“Just wanted to watch a little,” Richard said, as they looked out through the window which opened onto the hall.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” Dave said, indicating the chairs.

Sandra sat, but Richard chose to stand behind her, occasionally rubbing her shoulders.  The first touch drew a questioning look from her, but after that she didn’t challenge the massage. 

The slow third movement was just starting, so they enjoyed the music, knowing they’d have to wait to see Jer goof off, if he did at all. 

The quiet last chords of the movement reminded Sandra of Verklaerte Nacht.  She put herself in Mr. Menlos’s place for a minute, imagining taking the orchestra through the symphony.  That would be so awesome…

Her mood was swept away by the start of the finale.  The timpani and brass kicked off the raucous movement, and Richard started laughing. 

“Look!  Heh heh…”

Sandra giggled. 

Not only Jer, but a few other bass players next to him were emphasizing the rhythm with their heads. 

“He’s getting the whole section into it!”

Dave came over to look.  “That’s not very classical,” he said, laughing heartily.  “Sweet.”

After a few minutes, the energetic march calmed, and Jer’s show was over, for the moment.

Richard pulled away from the window, and Sandra stood up. 

“Well, that’s what we wanted to see,” he said to Dave.  “We better get back to the green room before this ends.  See you, man.”

“Later.  Do you know that bass player?” Dave asked, as they headed for the door.

“Roommate,” Richard explained.

“Ah.  It must be interesting living with him.”

Sandra laughed.  “Oh, Richard wouldn’t know.”

Dave frowned, and then he also laughed.  “Okay then…  Have a good evening, you two!”

On their way back to the green room, Sandra made a face.

“Oops.  That kind of came out before I thought about it.”

“Nah, Dave’s cool.  He sees us together all the time.  So does everyone, really.  They all know what’s going on.”

Sandra nodded.  “I know.  My parents even asked.”

Richard looked at her.  “Really?”

“Yeah.  The night before they left, they asked if I was with you.”

“And?”

“I said yes.”

“Did Emily come up?”

Sandra nodded.

“What did they say?”

“What can they say?  I’m not sure they understand, but they weren’t too weird about it.”

“How much did you tell them?”

“Just that the three of us had a relationship together.  I obviously am not going to tell them the details!”

“No, I guess not.”

“They like the two of you a lot.  My mom really likes you.”

“Until she found out I was with Emily, too!”

“No, no…  She thinks you’re very caring.  She really was moved by how you drove me to see Billy, and helped out that weekend.”

“Helped…?  I just sat around in a daze most of the time.”

“It was still helpful for you to be there,” Sandra said softly.

Richard didn’t answer.

Back in the green room, Emily and Suzanne were talking quietly.  Muted by the intervening walls, the orchestra was just beginning to enter the final crescendo of the piece.

The four of them listened to the last couple of minutes.  The brass held onto a complicated harmony, before the orchestra exploded into the final triumphant chorale.  The timpani blasts shook the room, and then with a final loud hit it was over.

“Mmm, that’s such an awesome piece,” Suzanne said.  Then she looked at the trio.  “Sure you don’t want to come to my place for the party?”

Emily smiled wistfully.  “My flight tomorrow is really early.”

“We’re going to go with her to the airport,” Richard said.

Suzanne nodded.  “Okay.  Will I see you before I leave, Emily?”

“Yeah.  I’m just going for the weekend.”

“Oh, good.  Have fun there.”

“I will,” Emily said, hope in her voice.

Clark Rathbourne was never overly theatrical on the podium.  Unlike some conductors who appeared to generate the music from the air, with their large and at times wild movements, he preferred to keep things on track with accuracy and control.

Most of his work was done in rehearsal.  He didn’t leave the discernment of emotion and feeling in the music to what the players might see in his eyes or arms during the concert.  No, everything was already in place.  The performances were preordained, his role being mainly to guide the orchestra, not power it.

Rehearsals for Mahler’s longest work had been intense.  No detail of the score had been overlooked.  With relentless persistence, Clark had extracted every ounce of precision he could from his musicians. 

He could, if necessary, remind them of some details during the performance, but for the most part, his tenure at the orchestra was long enough that the players knew how he worked, and how to deliver his vision.

Everything was going as planned, as Clark started the penultimate movement.  He could sense the growing charge in the air behind him, as the audience had become captivated by the first hour of music.  The boys’ choir and bells responded to his pulse.  A cautionary hand to the strings kept them from becoming too ebullient too fast. 

He was pleased at how the orchestra followed the alto’s soaring cadences exactly.  He allowed the drama to build up in the central section, before the movement returned to the lighter sounds of the opening.

The choir held its last angelic note until Clark cut them off.

A small smile on his face dissipated quickly, as he turned his thoughts to the last movement.  He took a few breaths, allowing the lightness of the fifth movement to clear, making way for the finale.

He turned to the violins, holding his hands out before him.  He glanced at their faces, making sure they were ready.

Clark was never distracted by things external to the rounded trapezoid of his stage.  Even the rare cell phone or watch beep couldn’t pull him out.  He never glanced at the people sitting in the box seats above and behind the heads of his violin and cello sections.

Until tonight.  Maybe it was the way one of the violinists momentarily moved his bow, causing it to point upwards.  Or perhaps it was the small cough…

He did look at those seats tonight, and was stunned immobile by the sight of Emily’s face looking back at him.

Emily…?  Emily…!  Here… to watch me conduct…

His hands were still held out before him, poised to start the quiet beginning of the finale. 

Those in the orchestra wondered what vision he was seeing off in the distance.

Emily shivered as she realized her dad had seen her.  She hadn’t intended for that to happen, although she knew it was possible when Audrey had shown her to her seat. 

“It’s the best place to watch him from,” she had said, and she was right; from most other seats in the hall, Emily would not be able to see his face.

Now, he stood frozen in surprise.  Emily smiled emotionally, acknowledging the connection.

Clark stared for some moments more. 

I wonder what he is thinking…

At last, he lowered his eyes, and his frame expanded visibly in response to his deep breath.

With care, he started the movement.  Emily listened as the first phrase drew itself out of the strings. 

This, is too fast?  She was momentarily surprised; a conversation with William had revealed that he thought Clark had interpreted the final movement at a speed that was quicker than William’s liking. 

For perhaps a minute, Emily could sense the conflict in the orchestra.  Clark held out a restraining hand as the violins seemed to get ahead of him in pace.  They reacted, and began to follow his pulse. 

He never conducts like this…

The first five movements had looked easy.  Her dad had been somewhat passive and detached, as was his style.  Despite his relative distance, though, the music had been impressively wrought.  Emily knew how much rehearsal had gone into the piece, and she knew, from her own experience and approach, how that time behind-the-scenes affected the end result.

But now, her dad seemed to be willing each note out of his musicians as if they had never played it before. 

Emily sat forward in her chair as the movement unfolded.  There was an underlying peace to the music which Emily hadn’t expected, especially given William’s warning.

Her dad slowly built up the emotional aspect of the piece over ten minutes, and Emily became very much absorbed by it.  The first climactic moment filled the hall, and Emily felt her throat tighten a little.

The continuation was more unsteady.  The orchestra appeared to lose any further desire to play what was crafted in rehearsal, and follow her dad’s lead instead.  The next buildup was more urgent.  Despite the return to quiet for a few minutes, the emotional elements had been sprung, and now the strings were plaintive in their melody, even seeming tremulous. 

The horns arrived with the cascading statement of the theme as the brass grew around them.  On the podium, her dad was caught up in the moment, emphatically driving the brass and percussion with stabs of the baton.  Emily watched in fascination as the music grew angry.  The calm peace had been derailed, and it showed in Clark’s face.

With a final stopped horn note, the second climax passed.  Emily took a breath, unsure when she had last taken one before that.

Emily was shaken now, as the flutes and violins offered one last pastoral moment, enigmatic as it was.  The plucked pulses in the basses and cellos matched everyone’s anticipative heartbeats.

Just before her dad cued the beginning of the end, he glanced at Emily.  It was so brief, Emily almost missed it.  But in that instant, she knew where he was: in that place she had so often wished to visit, and yet didn’t let herself.  A place of love and reconciliation, surrounded by a glare of grudges and resentment.  Her mother had never entered it, but now, she could.  With her father, she would…

Emily let the music sweep over her.  The orchestra’s sound grew and grew, as long phrases began to build upon each other.  Melodies and countermelodies intertwined and layered, bringing together everything that had happened in the previous ninety minutes, a small lifetime. 

She kept her eyes fixed on her father.  The music pushed aside feelings of guilt and shame, and she began to realize she was not so different from him, after all.  She had never allowed herself to love, after her mother died.  Never allowed herself to be loved…

Then the world had changed at Wexford.

The triumphant theme returned with overwhelming sonority.  She held her hands clasped firmly before her, struggling to keep from closing her eyes under the emotion.  The brass chorale resonated everything inside her, both as a musician and a human. 

As if taking one last breath before letting go, the music drew to a pause.  Clark held the orchestra silent for a few seconds, letting the moment grow, even as no one played a note.

The last hopeful buildup was too much.  Emily didn’t bother wiping the tears away, knowing more would follow.  She was shaking now, and her vision was blurred.

With five final blasts by the two timpanists, the final chord was reached.  The vibrations shook everyone in the hall, as Clark held onto it.  At last, he gave a slight movement with his arms, and the musicians cut off the sound.

The reverberations bounced through the concert hall, were absorbed by the listeners, and then it was over.

Silence.

Complete silence.

Some twenty seconds passed.  Clark stood rooted on the podium, his hands still hovering out before him, his lip trembling, and his eyes unseeing.  The hall was as silent as it was when it was empty, and yet some twenty-six hundred people were present.

At last, Clark lowered his hands, turned to his left, and looked up.  Emily was standing, transfixed, her hands clasped in front of her chin.

His movement at last broke the spell, and the applause came.  Thousands were on their feet, making a thunderous noise with their hands and throats. 

Clark didn’t even hear it.

The day before Suzanne left, Richard, Sandra, and Emily were at her place to help her load up the truck she had rented for her trip west.  Mark, the cellist from conducting class was also involved, as was Suzanne’s older brother, Charlie, who had flown out to assist her with the driving.  He had coincidentally arrived around the same time Emily had returned from Baltimore, and Suzanne was glad to pick them both up from the airport that morning.

The piano took some muscle, but eventually sat in the front end of the truck’s cargo area.  The loading of boxes and furniture went faster than expected, but it was the last items, those odd shaped things that were put off until the day of moving, that took the longest.  The six of them ended up spending the day there and staying for dinner.

At last, her place was essentially emptied.  A couple of sleeping bags and pillows, and a box of cleaning supplies were all that remained.  While the men worked on loading Suzanne’s car on the trailer, the women were busy scrubbing down the house, despite Suzanne’s plea for them to relax.

“When you get a chance,” Emily said, “send us your concert dates.  I really want to come see one or two.  Maybe I’ll even drag Sandra and Richard along,” she added with a grin.

Suzanne smiled.  “That would be great.”

“We’re going to miss you,” Sandra said.

Suzanne stopped scouring the stovetop and turned to them.  “I will too.”  She shook her head.  “Like I’ve told Sandra, I really wish I’d met you sooner.  All three of you.  I really enjoy hanging out, and playing music…”

“We’ll see each other,” Emily said confidently.

“I know.  It won’t be enough.  And…”

“And what?” Sandra asked.

Suzanne sighed.  “Well, I still don’t know how I fit in with the three of you.  I…  I love being friends.  And, well…”  She looked at Sandra, and then at Emily.  “There have been a few times we’ve kissed, Sandra and me.”

Emily chuckled at her apologetic tone.  “I know, Suzanne.”

“I didn’t know if you did,” she said thoughtfully.

“You kissed Sandra when you got offstage at our recital.  I was right there.”

“Really?” Suzanne asked.

“Yeah, you did.  Besides, Sandra already told Richard and me about it, on the night you two met.”

“Oh…”

“We share everything,” Sandra added.

“Yeah, I know,” Suzanne said without thinking.

The other two laughed, and then Suzanne realized the second meaning.  She laughed a little as well, and then grew serious again.

“Richard said I would know.”

“Know what?” Emily asked.

“Know what was right.”

The girls looked at her expectantly.

Suzanne wavered for a moment.  “I’m still confused,” she blurted out.  Then she turned back to the stove top, scrubbing furiously at a burned remnant.  “Until I kissed you, I never even thought about kissing another woman.  Never.  But that day, in the conducting class…  It was such a connection!  And it still is.  But I see the three of you, and there’s so much going on that I’ve missed.  Normally, when I’ve met guys, it’s a fresh start, you know?  One on one…  You find out about each other, and then you start from there.”

Sandra had moved closer to her.  “It can be the same with us.”

Suzanne looked up from the stove.  “How?”

“We’ve already been getting to know each other, and we’ve also started some new things.  Look at our music together…  And you’re playing Emily’s mother’s violin…  We have a relationship that’s growing.”

“But how far does it extend?” Suzanne whispered.  She scrubbed again.  “I was busy last month because of the concerto, and before that it was your recital…  But also, I was afraid to get together with you three too often.”

“Why?” Emily asked, frowning.

“Because, I look at you, and I see such love, and such a cool, different thing going on.  And I don’t want to get in the way of that.  But…”

Sandra and Emily waited for her to continue.  “Just say what’s on your mind,” Sandra said quietly.

Suzanne stared at the burners.  “Sometimes… sometimes I want to be in the middle of it, too…  There, I said it.”  Suzanne took a ragged breath, and continued to work on the stubborn spot.

“We’ve thought the same, too,” Emily said.

Suzanne looked up.  “Really?”

“Yeah,” Sandra agreed. 

Suzanne shook her head sadly, and then laughed slightly.  “Well, this is awkward.”

Sandra put down the cleaning bottle and paper towel she was holding, and hugged Suzanne from the side.  “No, it’s not.”

Suzanne held her gloved hands out helplessly.  “Yeah it is.  I’m leaving tomorrow, and I feel dumb telling you all this now.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.  I won’t see you for a while.”

“Things don’t have to happen right away,” Emily said.

Suzanne shook her head.  “They’ll never happen.  I should have kept quiet.”

“Then this would never have happened,” Emily said.  She turned Suzanne slightly by the arm, and kissed her.  Sandra still held on to her tightly, smiling.

Suzanne looked at Emily in surprise. 

“That wasn’t fair,” she said quietly.  “But I liked it.”

“We’re really going to try to come out to L.A. this fall,” Emily said.  “And who knows what might happen down the road.”

Suzanne nodded, somewhat dazed.  Outside, happy voices indicated that the guys had been successful in mounting her car on the trailer.

“It’s pizza time,” her brother Charlie had called out, as they approached.

“I’m really going to miss you,” Suzanne said, looking at each of them for a moment.

Sandra added her kiss, and a last hug.  “Things will happen, one way or the other.  We’re going to miss you too.”

They pulled apart as the screen door opened with a clatter, and the guys spilled inside, carrying the three pies they had collected from the driver outside. 

“Time to eat, ladies,” Mark said, spreading the pies out on the counter.

Charlie went to the fridge, distributing the last six pack, and unaware of the mood.

Only Richard stood in the entrance to the kitchen, staring at the three girls with an amused look.

They caught sight of him, giggled, and then took the beers that were offered.

Finals arrived, two weeks after Suzanne had closed the door to her empty place.  She stole a kiss from the trio while the truck hid them from her brother, and then she had driven away to her new life.  But it held promise.

Juries had been, as Suzanne had said, a formality.  The polish from the recital preparations had not dulled at all, and all three of them had performed at their best for the small assembly of teachers from their respective departments.

As expected, finals kept them busy until the end.  The music history final was their only real worry.  Since they were in the same class, though, study sessions were hardly the tedium that they would have been had they been studying on their own.  Whether they actually studied more by doing it together is something they debated, but the rewards were certainly greater.

On the way back from their history final, Sandra pulled a handful of things out of the mailbox.  There were fewer recital announcements now, since only three days remained in the semester.  Nestled between two programs was a letter.

“From Allison,” she announced, as they climbed the steps.

Once in the room, Sandra opened it.

“Read it for us, love,” Emily said.

“ ‘Dear Emily, Sandra and Richard.  I hope this letter reaches you in time.  I just wanted to thank you for everything when I came to visit last month.  The recital was especially inspiring.  Well done!

“ ‘I don’t know when I’ll next be in the U.S., since my research at the lab is finished for now.  But, I am still looking at the options for next year, after I get my degree in November.  This includes some possibilities in the U.S.  At any rate, I’m sure we’ll see each other again sometime in the next few years.

“ ‘I’m really excited to tell you about the orchestra I’ve been playing with.  I was talking to the harpist, and she used to play professionally.  Somehow, you came up, and Suzanne, and how she was going to L.A., and we got to talking about concertos.  It turns out I will be playing with her in the spring!  We will play the flute and harp concerto by Mozart.  It’s on October twelfth, and I’m terribly excited, but also completely petrified!’”

“Poor thing,” Sandra laughed, before continuing.  “ ‘But it’s good for me.  My bloke is really supporting this all the way, which is a relief.’ ” 

Richard was grinning.  “Hmm, maybe we should plan a trip to Australia,” he joked.

The girls chuckled. 

“That would go over well with our teachers next semester,” Emily said.  “Keep reading.”

“ ‘Every time I play my flute now, I think of the three of you at the recital, and Suzanne too.  I hope her concerto went well, and that your finals are going (or went?) well, too.

“ ‘I know it’s impossible to think you’d be able to attend, as much as I’d like that.  So, I will try to have the concert recorded, or even filmed.  But I don’t promise that I’ll let you listen (unless it comes out well enough!).  We will see. 

“ ‘I will be at this address and number until November.  Have a good summer, and stay in touch when you can.  Love and hugs, Allison.’ ”

“That is so cool,” Emily said.

“Yeah,” Sandra agreed, scanning the letter again with a smile.  “I’ll be thinking of her, for sure.”

Irina was staring out the window when the knock came.

“Come,” she called out loudly.

“Good morning, Irina.”

She turned after a moment.  “Good morning, Riccardo.”

He frowned in surprise as he sat on the bench, and then started to adjust the height.

Irina chuckled.  “Sorry.”

“No problem.  I can do the bench.”

When Richard finished, he looked up and found Irina holding out a CD. 

“Oh, cool!  They’re finished.”

“Yes.  Dave got some promo copies yesterday.  This is for you.  Dave has more, if you want some extra.”

“Thanks,” he said, examining the CD.  She had signed it for him.

“Thank you for your help on it,” she said.

“Thanks for letting me be a part of it.”

She kept his last lesson of the year laid back.  They decided on a practice plan for the summer, and set some goals.  After playing a few sections of some of his new pieces, Irina called an end to the lesson.

“You have made good progress this year, Richard.  Especially this semester.”

“I feel like I’ve learned a lot.”

“Yes, you have.  Keep on practicing in the summer, as if we have lessons every week.  You don’t want to lose what you have gained.”

Richard nodded.  “I will.”

“Good.”

He fingered the CD case.  “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes?”

“Why did you never record the Etudes?”

Irina smiled, and did not answer immediately.  “Yes, the Etudes.”

The Etudes…  How can I answer you, Richard?  How, and not have you discouraged at the end?

She stood and walked to the window.  “I was waiting until I could give them my best performance.”

Richard frowned.  “What do you mean?”

“As you get older, you play the piano differently.  You are still young, and may not realize that.”

Richard shrugged.  “I’ve changed this year.  I know it doesn’t stay the same.”

Irina nodded.  “Yes.  But I mean over long periods.  Many years…  When I was your age, I thought I knew everything about how to play.  Then I learned more and more that I didn’t.  Each year brought new ideas.  Whenever I played the Etudes, after leaving them for a time, I found so many new things in there.”

She sighed.  “I was waiting for the right time to record them.  Waiting until I had them the way I wanted them.  But it never happened.”

“I thought that the tape of the faculty recital where you played them was pretty amazing.”

“Eh,” Irina said, smiling at but also dismissing the compliment.  “I was out of practice.  I just moved here to become faculty, and Nadia was still a baby.”

“It must have been hard with two children,” Richard acknowledged.

“Nadia, yes,” she said carefully.  “I had Viktoriya when I was very young.  Harvey raised her, so I could become a pianist.  But with Nadia, I wanted to raise her too.  That is why I came to teach, and stopped performing so much.”

Richard nodded, seeming to understand. 

“I never played them like I wanted to,” Irina continued.  “So I never recorded them.  Once I started teaching, I practiced less, too.”

Richard held up the CD.  “But you still are recording and playing some concerts.  What about doing the Etudes now?”

Irina turned to him and shook her head.  “No.  I cannot play them well enough anymore.”

“But the pieces on this CD were not easy,” he pressed.

“Here is not the problem,” Irina said, holding up her hands.  Then she moved them to her heart.  “Here is.”

Richard looked at her as she smiled wistfully.

“I will never perform them again.  It would take too much out of me.”

He seemed to be sad at her words, so she looked at him with hope.

She walked closer to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.  “It is my students who play the Etudes, now.  I can teach them, because I love them.”

Richard nodded thoughtfully. 

“I will see you in August,” she said, giving his shoulder a squeeze before releasing it.

He stood up slowly and shouldered his bag.

“Okay…  Thank you, for everything you’ve taught me this year.”

She nodded.  “Of course.”

Richard smiled, and then left the studio.

Irina smiled as well, and then looked around the studio.  She went over to the piano, fingered a few chords, and then quietly closed the lid.

See you next semester, she thought.

With a final look around, she picked up a pile of scores under one arm, and let herself out.

Sandra knocked on the door to Dobra’s office, and entered when he acknowledged.

“Hello, Sandra.”

“Hi, Dr. Dobra.”

“Ready for the final?” he asked, his voice heavy with amusement and sarcasm.

Sandra grinned.  “Rules are rules,” she reminded him.

Dobra sighed.  “Yes, indeed.  Idiocy…  Let’s get it over with, then.”

He handed her a paper with five melodies.

“Sing a few of those,” he said, forcing patience into his voice.

Sandra did, and Dobra immediately notated in his ledger.

“Okay, melodic dictation.”

Dobra gave her the details after Sandra had prepared her staff paper.  Once she looked up, he played the melody once.  A minute later, he gave the details for the harmonic dictation, and again played the example once.

Sandra passed her paper to him, and Dobra silently looked it over.  After scanning it for five seconds, he wrote in his book again, and then placed her sheet in a manila folder.

“That was a waste of five minutes,” he said, slapping the folder onto the piano.  He closed his eyes and shook his head. 

He turned to Sandra and smiled, clearing the mood.  “Well, now that the business end of things is concluded, how are you?  How did juries go?”

“Great.  No problem compared to the recital, in the end.”

“I figured as much.  And Richard and…” Dobra narrowed his eyes questioningly.

“Emily?”

“Yes, sorry.  I’ve seen too many students today.  Did they fare well?”

“Yeah, they did great.”

“Good, good.  Now, if I recall, a few weeks ago you said you’d have an answer for me?”

Sandra smiled.  “I did.  And I think I want to add the theory major.”

Dobra nodded happily.  “Good.  That’s excellent!”

“So I have to register for the fifth level class, and the seminar?”

“Yes.  The seminar will be fun.  I am teaching it next semester, and we will spend a good part of the time looking at Rite of Spring.  You may wish to get a recording of it and listen over the summer.”

Sandra nodded.  “I will.”

“I believe we have someone coming in next year as a freshman theory major, which is quite rare.  So we will probably be five people in the class, unless I can persuade a few others.”

“Cool.  It’s going to be a busy semester.  At least I won’t have a recital hanging over my head, though!”

“Gary Menlos tells me that you will be studying some conducting with him as well?”

“Yeah.  I’m taking the conducting class again next semester, but also some extra lessons with him.  I might even get to run part of an orchestra rehearsal, if he feels I’m up for it.  Oh, and I guess I’m also conducting a small orchestra for someone’s recital, too.  Somehow I agreed to that.  It sounded like a good idea at the time…”  Sandra scrunched up her face.

Dobra shook his head as he smiled.  “I’m starting to really dread what your senior year schedule will look like!”

Sandra laughed.  “Yes, it could be crazy.  I’m just glad there isn’t an undergraduate conducting degree.  Otherwise I’m sure Mr. Menlos would be trying to get me to do it!”

He laughed richly.  “That he would.  Ah, well…”  He looked at her with pride for a moment.  “You’ll do great, at all of it.”

“Thanks.”

 “It’s been great having you in my class, Sandra.  And, of course, I can’t thank you enough for, well…  helping me out.”

Sandra nodded slowly.  Finally an opening…

“I’m really glad things went your way.  But…  What was the story with Dr. Wilcox and Mrs. Warner?”

Dobra considered her for a moment, and then sighed.  “He was a student of mine, once.  Some things happened…  Things I really should not discuss, even with you, Sandra.  Suffice it to say that it was another difficult situation.”

“Was the whole thing this semester their doing?” Sandra asked.  “Or did they just take advantage of it once it came up?”

Dobra smiled sadly.  “I’m sorry, Sandra.  Things went as they should have.  I wish I could say, but my return was conditional on certain arrangements.  Like having everyone in the class actually take the final exam, for instance.  And,” he said seriously, “not discussing the details of the case, past or present.”

“Shouldn’t people know the truth?”

Dobra laughed.  “The truth… Yes, the truth is ugly.  Competition for students between the top conservatories in this country is tough.  Really tough.  A few superstars coming out of a place can make a school’s reputation soar.  So the top students are courted.  Wexford doesn’t have a preparatory division and youth chamber music camps just for the fun of it.”

“They’re grooming the kids?”

Dobra laughed.  “Well, that sounds a bit too much like an assembly line, which is not the truth.  The primary goal is to offer opportunities for young people to study music at a high level.  But, on the side, any exceptional talent is courted early.  Wexford wants them to come here, and the offers are big when they come.  A big chunk of donor contributions goes to cover tuition.”

“I know some people are here on a full ride.”

“Full ride, and more…  But back to the topic:  any scandal, especially with a big donor, does not make for a good recruitment tool.  So the situation with Joanna and me is much bigger than either of us, when it comes down to it.  Luckily, I’ve been let out of it, relatively unscathed, and for that I am thankful.  I’ll gladly let the administration figure out the other stuff, as long as they let me get back to doing what I love.” 

Sandra nodded.  “I understand.”

“Someday, if the situation is different, I may tell you about Evan Scurly.”

Sandra frowned, and he just smiled enigmatically. 

Before she could ask anything, Dobra continued, wearing an impish grin Sandra was sure she had never seen on his face.  “For now, I’m going to behave.  I gave you the final, like a good boy, and I’m also going to say no more about Mrs. Warner.”

A knock on the door interrupted them.

“One moment,” Dobra called out.  He stood, and smiled warmly at Sandra.

“Have a good break,” he said.

Sandra smiled.  “I will.  You too.”

“And thank you, for everything,” he said, his eyes fixed on hers.

Sandra managed a nod and then left his office.

Despite wishing for the end of the semester to stay away, the trio’s last full day together arrived with a warm May morning.  After waking up late, making love, and enjoying a leisurely breakfast at Belinda’s, they had at last turned to the undesirable task of packing up their belongings.

Richard had amassed a significant amount of his items in their room over the course of nine months.  Having filled a box with CDs and books, he took it to his room to give the girls some more space to organize. 

He did a double take when he walked in.  Jer’s side of the room was empty, and the bed was stripped.  It made the place feel very unfamiliar, and suddenly larger.

Wistfully, he prepared himself a final espresso.  The girls’ gift had been one reason he’d survived the semester.  He was sad to have to pack it up for the summer, since it would be unneeded at his house. 

As he started the machine, he pictured it on the counter of the place they were going to be renting.  We’ll need stuff for the house…  Dishes, utensils…  The thought was somewhat overwhelming.  Then he realized the girls had probably thought of those things months ago…

Richard sat on his bed and was sipping the black elixir, when Jer came in.

“Hey, man.  I’m out of here.”

Richard placed the cup on his desk and stood up.  “Yeah, I figured as much,” he said, looking around.  “You packed up quick.”

“Not sure you can call what I did ‘packing,’ but whatever.  I’ll sort shit out when I get home.  Anyway, dude, it’s been good, uh, not being your roommate this year.”

Richard laughed.  “Sorry I wasn’t here for you…”

“Nah.  I didn’t mind.”  He grinned.  “Neither did Jenna.”

“Glad I could help.”

“What are you doing next year?”

“Coming back?” Richard said sarcastically.

“You’re gonna be in the dorm?”

“Oh, no.  The girls and I are renting a house down on Highland.”

“Nice!  That’ll be killer.”

“Yeah, it’ll beat being stuffed into the dorm room on these small beds.  What about you?”

“Not sure yet.”

“Moving in with Jenna?”

“Thought about it.  Don’t think my folks would go for it, though.”

Richard laughed.  “Get a third person to share the house.  Then tell them you’re all just friends.  That’s what I did.”

Jer shook his head.  “Nah.  They know her already.  They won’t fall for that.”

“Too bad.”

“Yeah.  Anyway, my dad’s waiting down in the van, so I’m gonna head out.”

Richard offered his hand, and Jer gripped it tightly.

“Have a good summer, man,” he said.

Richard nodded.  “You too.”

Jer looked at him for a moment, and then walked towards the door.

“You mind if I take this?” he asked, grabbing the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign from the wall.

“Go for it.”

“Might need it at my new place next year,” Jer said, grinning.  Then he was gone.

He’s still a trip…  Then again, he probably thinks the same thing of me…

Sandra was going through her back pack when she pulled out a white envelope from her bag, and looked at it strangely.

“What’s that?” Richard asked.  Having removed the majority of his things from their room, he was now resting on the bed.  His offer to help them pack had been promptly rescinded when Sandra saw how he ‘folded’ one of her shirts.

“It’s a tape that the president’s secretary gave me,” Sandra said.  “A recording of me getting into it with that woman on the board.”

“Really?” Emily asked, interested.

“Yeah.  Weird…  I forgot all about it.”

“I want to hear it!” Emily said, as Sandra tossed it onto the desk.

Sandra turned to her.  “Why?”

“I want to hear what you said!”

Sandra shrugged.  “But it’s a little cassette for those voice recorders.  I don’t have a player.”

“I can get one from the audio room,” Richard said.

“Okay, let’s go,” Emily said, standing immediately.

“Now?”

Emily was already at the door.  “We’re leaving tomorrow.  No time like the present.”

Richard shrugged at Sandra and followed Emily out. 

Sandra continued to pack, and considered hiding the tape.  That was not a time she remembered with fondness, even though things had worked out well in the end.

They were back about five minutes later.  Sandra watched as Richard took the microcassette from the envelope.

“What’s the big deal?” Sandra asked.

“I always wished I could have been there to see you,” Emily said.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.  I’ve never heard you get really angry.  It might be cute.”

Sandra laughed uneasily.  “It was freaky, actually.  I’m not sure I want to hear it…”

“Okay, it’s rewound,” Richard said.  “Here goes.” 

He played the tape. 

There were a few noises as the machine was manipulated by the person handling it.  Then came the steady ambient noise of an empty room, interrupted only by the click of a door closing.  They listened to the silence, and then Emily grew impatient.

“Fast forward.”

Richard did, and the airy noise turned into a whine as the tape moved quickly.

“It’s blank,” Sandra said, feeling a sense of relief.  She continued organizing her backpack.  “She must have erased it by accident.”

Then there was a noise and a burst of high-pitched talking.

Richard quickly backed up the tape.

A door opened, and then a voice could be heard.

“Sue, send them in directly when they get here, please.”

“That’s Dr. Jensen,” Sandra said, frowning.  “Must have been before I showed up.  But…”

There were the sounds of Dr. Jensen moving about the room, settling in his chair, and rustling papers.  Richard fast forwarded through a long section of mostly silence. 

“Weird… It’s like the tape is just rolling in his office,” Sandra said.

Eventually the door could be heard opening again.

“Good morning,” came a female voice.

“Ugh, that’s her,” Sandra said immediately.

“Good morning, Joanna.  Allan,” said Dr. Jensen politely.

“Allan?  What?” Sandra echoed the tape, frowning.

“Who’s that?” Emily asked.

“That’s Wilcox,” she whispered.  “But he wasn’t there that day…”

“Please, have a seat,” Jensen offered.  The chairs creaked.

“You said you had some new information today?” Joanna asked.

“Yes.  But first, I need to speak with you about what happened yesterday.”

“Yesterday?”

“With Ms. d’Arcy,” Jensen said.

Sandra, having so far been doing things around the room as she listened, suddenly came over next to Richard.  She frowned as she listened closely.

Joanna laughed.  “Ah, yes, Ms. d’Arcy.  I will be requesting a full review of her efforts here, and recommending disciplinary action.  I will not tolerate that insolence at Wexford.”

“That will not be necessary,” Jensen said simply.

“Hold on, stop,” Sandra said.  “Stop…”

Richard paused the tape.

He and Emily looked at Sandra.

She was breathing a little hard.  “This must have happened the day after.  I – I think…”

“What?”

“Somehow, I don’t think this meeting was supposed to be recorded.”

Sue the secretary… 

She waved Richard on, urgently.  Richard gave her a funny look, which she chose to ignore.

He rewound a little and pressed play, and they listened to Mrs. Warner again.

“…requesting a full review of her efforts here, and recommending disciplinary action.  I will not tolerate that insolence at Wexford.”

“That will not be necessary,” Jensen said simply.

“Not be necessary?”

“Your actions were inappropriate.”

“Inappr – Inappropriate!” Joanna stammered.  “My actions?  Did you not hear how she – ”

“I was present,” Jensen interrupted.  “I heard Sandra giving a statement, and then I watched you interrupt her and make threats.  Threats which are not yours to make.”

There was a moment of silence.  “Carl, have you forgotten who I am?”

“As a member of the board at Wexford, it’s not your job to make decisions about the future of particular students.”

“That girl is a poor excuse for a musician and student.  Did you hear how she talked about my son?  I have not heard such disrespect in a very long time.  She’s desperate, Carl.  But you know that, right?  Now that her facilitator is absent, she is in a position to fail her theory requirement.”

“I actually find that to be extremely unlikely.  Wouldn’t you agree, Dr. Wilcox?  How was her performance on the surprise midterm?”

“Well… Ms. d’Arcy was… unable to complete the exam.”

“Really?  She said she took it, even given the completely unreasonable circumstances.”

“She was the one acting unreasonably.  I was forced to terminate the exam early.”

Sandra made a strangling gesture at the tape machine.

“Do you really wish to argue that Sandra is not up to the level of the class she is in?”

Wilcox did not answer immediately.  “I have no reason to believe she can do that level of work.  Yesterday, she was unable to write a single note of the dictation I had her do at the board, during class time.  And with no history of ear training and sight singing exams in her file…”

Sandra could picture the bastard shrugging arrogantly.

“I suggest we organize an exam, then,” Dr. Jensen said immediately.  “I can have my secretary find Sandra right now, and we can have an examination right here.  You can use my piano.  Shall I ring Sue?”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Carl, what does this have to do with anything?” Joanna asked, at last.

“I am very disturbed by the actions of Dr. Wilcox towards what appears to be an exceptional student.  Exceptional, from a number of sources.”

Richard and Emily looked at Sandra with grins.

“Exceptional!  If that is your idea of exceptional, then you have really reached a low point, Carl.  She must be removed!”

“Joanna, you do not decide – ”

“Perhaps not.  But as a member of the panel investigating Dr. Dobra – ”

“Ah, well… We are investigating Dr. Dobra, not Sandra.  Furthermore, you are no longer on the panel.”

They could almost hear Joanna turning red.

“What did you say?” she finally exclaimed.

“Effective immediately, you and Dr. Wilcox are no longer on the panel.”

“This is ridiculous!  I was appointed by the board.  You cannot remove me!”

“Dr. Wilcox was never really on the panel, since you appointed him yourself with no prior consultation.  But I did not remove you.  The board did.”

“I demand you explain yourself, Carl!” she stammered.

“I called an emergency board meeting this morning and explained the situation,” Jensen said calmly.

“What situation?” Joanna asked.

There was the sound of rustling papers.

“There appears to be a serious conflict of interest here,” Dr. Jensen said.

“What are you talking about?”

“I have Dr. Wilcox’s records from Eastman.”

“What?  Allan went to UCLA…”  Joanna’s voice was suddenly weak.

“Yes, but one Evan Scurly went to Eastman for a year.”

Evan Scurly!  Dobra mentioned him!

The tape was silent for a moment.

“What does this have to do with anything?” Joanna asked again.

“Joanna, please.  I’ve always let you have free rein, even when I disagreed with you.  But this…  This is simply unjust.  It really makes me question all your actions as a board member over the years.”

“The man is a predator!  He should have been fired long ago!”

“The investigation continues, I assure you.  But we promised an impartial panel, and we did not deliver…  Not in the least.”

There was the sound of a chair creaking.

“This is a mistake, Carl,” Joanna said vilely.  “You have gone too far.  I will be calling my own emergency meeting.  You have sided with the pathetic.  One way or another, we will not be working together.  You know what I bring to Wexford.  I’m not near the top of the donor list in every program to listen to some – ”

A loud banging sound made Sandra, Emily and Richard jump.  Whatever it was, it silenced Joanna Warner in an instant.

Dr. Jensen’s voice was unrecognizable when it came a moment later.

“Mrs. Warner… I’ve let you stomp on me and this school for far too long.  I urge you to call your emergency board meeting.  In fact, I think one is already scheduled for this afternoon.  You really should attend, since you will be the topic of discussion.”

“Goodbye, Carl,” she spat.  “Come on, Allan, move.”

“Goodbye to you too.  And Evan, if you ever set foot in this building again – ”

The door slammed.

Jensen sighed loudly, and then was still for a while.  Then he could be heard moving in the room.  A moment later, the door opened again.

“Sue, I’m going to go for a walk.  Can you air out my office?  That’s the last time I ever want to smell that awful stink in there.”

“Sure thing.”

There was another short period of silence, and then the sound of the recorder being manipulated.  The recording went dead.  Richard fast forwarded for a bit, but it was over.

“Damn…” Sandra said.

“I guess we know where Wilcox disappeared to.”

“I don’t get it, though,” Emily said.  “What were they talking about with this Evan guy?”

Sandra shook her head.  “I don’t know, exactly.  It’s something that happened with Dr. Dobra a long time ago.  Dr. Jensen called Wilcox ‘Evan’ at the end.”

“I bet Dr. Dobra failed him out of theory at Eastman, so he changed his name and went to UCLA,” Richard said slowly.

Sandra nodded.  “Yeah.  Dobra once said she’s had it in for him ever since he came to Wexford.  At my final, he mentioned something about an Evan Scurly, too.  But he didn’t tell me more.”

They all breathed out, expelling the tension that had gripped them while listening to the tape.

“Where did you get this, again?” Emily asked.

“Dr. Jensen’s secretary gave it to me.  She must have taped it in secret.”

“You don’t think Dr. Jensen knew?”

Sandra shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Didn’t seem like it.  His secretary was in the room when I had my fight with Joanna.”

“Maybe she took a liking to you.”

“I guess.  She was looking up at me with this funny smile at one point.”

“This is priceless,” Richard said, holding out the tape.

Sandra pulled the little folded paper out of the case.

“She wrote this note, too:  Live your life with passion, and you will inspire others to be brave…”

“Mmm…  Sounds like you shook things up at Wexford.”

Sandra shook her head.  “I’m just glad it’s all over.”

“I guess we’ll never know what really happened between them and Dobra,” Emily said.  “Especially since he won’t tell you his side.”

“At this point, I don’t care anymore.  Things worked out, for both of us.  He’s back, I’m still here, and everything is good.”

The three of them nodded and smiled, and Sandra put the tape back in the envelope and stashed it back in her bag.

It took her a while to quell her rapidly beating heart.

The evening was both hopeful and sad for the trio.  The prospect of a month apart weighed on them, and yet they made the most of their last hours together.  There was much to look forward to, and they talked of both reality and dreams for the coming year. 

They explored each other’s lips and bodies like it was a hot night back in August.  Their lovemaking was slow and intense.  They clung to each other, perhaps trying to postpone the morning light that would pull them apart after they fell asleep.

It was quite late when they collapsed to the bed, satisfied and spent.  The faint blue glow from the string of lights above the window remained one of the few things left to pack up in the morning. 

“How do we not die?” Richard said, his voice quiet in the stillness.

“I don’t know.  I felt like I did, a little while ago, and it wasn’t so bad,” Emily answered.

He laughed gently.  “I meant as artists.  I don’t want to fade away.  I just want to feel the high forever.”

“Hmm…  Me too.”

“There are so few musicians who reach their late years with full satisfying careers,” he said.  “Look at Irina.  Before I came out here, I thought she was a piano goddess.  She still is, but my idea of her now is so different.  I mean, she admitted to me that she’s not at the top of her form.  She has kids, a husband… A garden…”

“That’s probably what she wants now,” Emily said simply.

“True.  I guess she gets pleasure out of teaching now, and playing occasionally.  But still.  Look at so many others: a flash of brilliance for a few years, and then they end up moving into business, or working some crappy job, hating music.  Or worse.”

“I know,” Sandra agreed. 

“How do we hold on to this?” Richard asked.

They were silent for a long time.

“I guess it comes down to the music,” he said at last.  “The music keeps us interested, if it’s good.”

“Until we’ve played everything,” Emily said.

“We can’t play everything.”

“No. But most of the things we like.”

Richard considered.  “Then we start over, find something new in what we’ve played before.  I’m sure I’ll come back to these Etudes some day.”

“I really wish there were more pieces for our instruments,” Emily said.  “Not likely, though.”

“We can commission something,” Richard suggested.

“Yeah, but that’s only one more work,” Emily said.  “Still a good idea, though,” she added.

Sandra, who had been listening, suddenly spoke.  “It comes down to love,” she said, her voice quiet.  “That’s how we remain artists.  I know you said it’s in the music, but you meant love, Richard.  Think of all the moments this last year that were amazing, either playing music, listening to it, watching it, conducting it…  there’s love in every one.  Love growing, like ours, or love lost, like…”

Sandra trailed off for a moment, her voice catching.  Then she continued.

“That’s the only way we can keep going forever, and not fade away.  Love never stays the same.  It grows, or it wanes, but never is it static.  That’s how we have to live as artists.  Pushing forward, always looking to expose what we feel inside, and leaving that completely on the stage as we look for the next experience.  Once we settle for the unchanging, we are lost.  That’s where we fade away, and become irrelevant.”

Sandra sat up.  “The music is just a vehicle.  We chose to show different feelings at different times though different pieces, and even different interpretations…  Richard, a long time ago, the first night we made love, you explained something about how you were not ready for the Beethoven piece you played for us.  Do you remember?”

“Yeah.  I told you how I didn’t understand that section until that moment.  I didn’t understand how the music intertwined and needed to be played.”

“I thought about that for a long time, trying to understand, and only thought I did.  But what was it really, that you understood?”

Richard was silent.  “You’re right,” he said after some time. “It was because of you and Emily.  I imagined the three of us singing the music together.  And the feelings you two gave me at the time were exactly what that was like.  The excitement, the hope…”

“Yeah, that’s it!” Sandra said.  “I understand, because I do the same thing!  But that was love.  You knew how to play the notes.  I mean, you could play what was written.  It wasn’t until you felt that love for us that the music made sense!”

“But what about sadness?” Emily asked.  “Not every piece is happy.”

“It’s still love, gained or lost.  When I conducted the Schoenberg piece that one day in class, I was not happy.  I thought I’d lost so much.  Billy, my career, and worst of all, you and Richard.  The piece completely changed for me, that day.  It had been a romantic idyll up until then.  I always pictured the three of us out on a calm, romantic night…  That would have led to such a different performance.  Instead, it turned out very sad and moving for me.”

“And everyone else who was there,” Emily said quietly.

“Yeah…  And the same on the recital.  We’d been through so much.  I always thought it was funny, how we were onstage, playing and singing, and anyone who walked in would have just thought it was a regular recital.  They’d have no idea that when we got off the stage we hugged, or kissed, or any of that.  They wouldn’t know all that we went through to be there, just by looking at us all dressed up fancy and under the lights.  All they get is the formal stage show that way.  But then it’s up to us to show the real thing through the music.

“The people who listen to us have to feel it, and if we can do that, then we’ll never fade away.”

After a moment of silence, Richard and Emily each gave her a kiss, surprising her.

“What was that?”

“A little love,” Emily said gently.

“Oh, I have so much of that for you two,” Sandra said emotionally.  “I just wish we weren’t leaving tomorrow.  It seems too soon.”

“But we have lots to look forward to,” Richard said quietly.

“Yes, we do,” Sandra agreed.  “We do.”

“What do you want to listen to first?” Vittorio asked.

Richard had chosen to drive, since the tight pack had left slightly more legroom on the driver’s side.  He glanced over at the shoebox full of cassettes that Vittorio was browsing through.  His mind was still on the girls, and the emotional goodbye they had just gone through. 

One month, until I see them…

He shook out of it.  “What did you bring?”

“Turandot…  Beethoven piano concertos.  Also, a concert from Wexford…”

Richard laughed a little.  He wondered how many times Vittorio had listened to the recording of their recital in the past month. 

“No, not that one,” he said.  “Some other time, maybe.”

Vittorio started naming some of the other tapes he had brought.

“Don’t put anything in,” Richard said, after the listing ended.

His dad considered, and then nodded.  “You must be tired of music all the time.”

“No, not at all.  I want to tell you about some stories from school this year.”

Vittorio seemed surprised, and then smiled.  “I would love that,” he said.

Richard nodded.  “Where to start…?”

“Anywhere you like.  We have a long ride.”

“So true,” Richard said, already stretching his legs.  He considered for a moment, and then laughed.  “My first lesson, I was late by three minutes, and Irina was a little displeased.  The first thing I thought of was…”

“Welcome to Alitalia flight six-one-one, with non-stop service to Rome-Fiumicino…”

The last hint of a blazing sunset had disappeared while they boarded the giant red and green striped plane.  Emily was peering out through the window at the baggage workers as they loaded the belly of the aircraft.

“There’s my bag!” she said, pointing.

Richard peeked out, sharing her excitement.  Sandra ignored the comment.

“Are you all right?” he asked her.  She was sitting in the aisle seat next to him.

“I’m hanging in there.”

“Just think about this:  in eight and a half hours, we’ll be stepping off the plane in Rome.”

Sandra smiled slightly.  “I know.  But it seems like a really long time away.”

Richard kissed her hand.  “You’ll be fine.”

Emily turned to them.  “One day, you’ll be flying all over the world, giving concerts, and you’ll remember this flight and laugh.”

Sandra chuckled.  “I don’t know about that.  Are you sure this thing can get off the ground?”

Richard laughed gently.  An hour ago, when they arrived at the gate, Sandra had visibly staggered back when she looked out through the tall windows and caught sight of the nose of the seven-forty-seven.  Her slight apprehension at being on her first plane trip suddenly had become full-blown fear when presented with the massive aircraft.  Typical Italian bustle and vivacious discussion all around the waiting area didn’t help to calm her down, either.

The doors closed, and people at last settled down.  Vittorio and Angelina, in the row ahead, were already preparing to snooze, waiting only for the opportunity to recline their seats.  Emily was still watching the tarmac activity with childlike enthusiasm, despite having flown many times in her life.

Richard kept his excitement outwardly in check, not wanting to further unnerve Sandra with giddy comments.  He suggested that she close her eyes and listen to her favorite aria, knowing she didn’t need a Walkman to do so.

Inside, he felt unusually happy.  For almost a month, they would be leaving behind their responsibilities, and just enjoying themselves.  He couldn’t wait to show them around Rome for a few days, and then expose them to life in the small town where his family was from.  They would meet his aunt, and his Italian friends, and have fun at the town’s annual summer festival…  Then there were the beaches a few hours east, and perhaps a trip to the Amalfi coast if he could persuade his aunt to loan him his uncle’s old Fiat…  William and Arlene would be there for part of the time, too…

As he looked back and forth at his two lovers and best friends, he thought back to the conservatory where they had met, and been through so much.  The recital was ages ago, it seemed.  Despite knowing that there had been long hours of practicing put in by all three of them, that part was harder to remember than the actual event itself, and the exhilaration they felt afterwards. 

He thought back to that first heady week in the dorms, when the pressures of Wexford had not yet presented themselves.  He remembered an innocent conversation over Thai food where he had promised to take them to Italy.  It had been a dream, and even a joke…

And yet…

The movement of the plane shook him out of his thoughts, and he soon left behind his memories and squeezed Emily’s arm as they backed out of the gate.

Emily gave him an excited smile, and then turned back to watch the departure.

Time to make some new memories, he thought.

I hope you enjoyed the story of Richard, Emily, and Sandra. Stay tuned for a companion guide which talks more about the music used in the story (coming late-September). Feedback and critique is greatly appreciated! A couple of minutes spent writing some feedback now can translate into hours of enjoying a new story down the road. Thanks!

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