Cynthia smirked a little and said, “I will say, it made our senior year super interesting. There were rumors that you and Fitzgerald snuck off together.”
“I can’t imagine why,” I said, running my hand over my navy eyelet dress.
“He disappeared the same day you did. Although he turned up with the BSO a week later.”
I tilted my head and said, “What, did he take leave or something? What do you mean disappeared?”
She gave me a stare. “He stopped teaching. Surely you knew that.”
I took a sharp breath, surprised. But maybe not. He hated teaching anyway. Though I wondered how he managed to pay for that giant monument to his ego ... the one-of-a-kind cello he toted around as if it held the secrets to his soul.
It probably did.
“Savannah!”
The shout startled me, and immediately a smile spread across my face.
Nathan!
“Excuse me,” I said, and walked away from Cynthia without another word.
A moment later I was laughing as Nathan wrapped me into a warm hug. We squeezed each other tightly, and unexpectedly I began to choke up, tears flooding my eyes. I hadn’t seen Nathan in years. We’d talked on the phone, emailed, and chatted online, of course. But I missed looking into his eyes and watching his dimples. I missed being hugged.
“Christ,” he whispered. “I missed you so much.”
I leaned back and looked up into his eyes. “Where were you earlier? I looked for you at the ceremony.”
He shook his head. “Flight got delayed.”
“We’re going out for drinks this weekend. I need to spend some time with you.”
He slipped his hands down to my shoulders. “How long are you in town?”
I shrugged. “I’m off for the summer. No firm plans.”
He blinked then said, “We need to talk then. I’ve got a short term suggestion anyway.”
Over his shoulder, I saw Madeline chatting with a small group of women. “Okay, let’s talk later. We need to catch up, anyway, but let’s go say hi to Madeline.”
He nodded and fell into step beside me as I approached Madeline’s group.
“She looks so happy,” Nathan whispered as we neared Madeline. “Do you know how long she and James have been together?”
I chuckled a little. “I do. They started dating the summer I worked at Tanglewood with Madeline.”
That dimple appeared as Nathan laughed, too. “That must have been interesting.”
“That whole summer …” I trailed off, shaking my head at what I once thought was the best summer of my life. After all, a man I highly respected and found incredibly attractive told me he was falling in love with me.
It wasn’t so great, after all.
“You okay? Is he here?” Nathan’s eyes surfed the crowd briefly.
“He is,” I nodded, “but I’ve been able to avoid him so far.”
Despite the rocky road our friendship endured during Nathan’s last year at the conservatory, I hadn’t thought twice about showing up at his Chicago apartment unannounced a day after I quit school. I drove all night from Boston to Chicago, showing up at his apartment at around 3:30 a.m. Though I could see “I told you so” wired through his tense jaw as my chin quivered through the details of Gregory, he never said it. Not once. He just handed me a pillow and a blanket and told me to get some sleep. Said I looked like crap. I left for Europe a week later.
“Madeline.” I gently placed my hand on her lace-covered shoulder as Nathan and I stood behind her. Her long ginger hair was held in place at the base of her neck with a floral clip. The skirt of her off-white gown rustled as she turned around.
“Savannah! Nathan!” Madeline hugged us at the same time and kissed our cheeks. “I wasn’t sure you’d be able to make it!” she said, looking at me through green eyes glittered with happiness.
“I wouldn’t miss it, Madeline. I’m back for the summer.” Even if I didn’t know what my plans were from here, I could play the part.
Madeline nodded with a slight smile on her lips. Her eyes were warm as she took in my words. Reassuring, somehow. I would be just fine.
She turned to Nathan, asking him about how things were with the symphony. They discussed the unsteady finances of American orchestras as I tuned them out, feeling like a stranger to the conversation, and fixed my eyes on a familiar woman just across the group. It took a moment to recognize her, because her hair was now dyed almost black, and when I’d known her it was the color of honey.
Oh. Karin Briggs.
It was the woman from the conservatory’s administrative office that Gregory casually dated during the semester I was his student. Her hair was cut into a reverse bob that fell just beneath her chin. She looked stunning in her floor-length chocolate colored gown.
When she caught me studying her I gave a polite smile, but she didn’t return it. She seemed to pale a little, if anything, and I looked over my shoulder to see why, but found nothing there. Meeting her eyes again, she grinned a sort of half grin that did little to make one feel warm. Confused, I sipped the rest of my wine, set it on the tray of a passing waiter, and retrieved another.
It was already shaping up to be a long night before I looked past Karin and saw Gregory Fitzgerald approaching from behind her. I’d seen him already at the church, but his proximity at the moment was disconcerting. My pulse raced as I realized it would do no good to try to hide. He would see me in a few seconds and that would be that.
His jet-black hair had flecks of grey scattered throughout it. His tightly shaven goatee displayed a little more grey, but not much. He was devastatingly handsome in his tux—the only man I’d ever seen who looked comfortable in one.
Gregory handed Karin a drink and she turned slightly sideways as she sipped her drink and placed her hand awkwardly on his arm. I opened my mouth, contemplating saying hello before he realized I’d been watching him this whole time, but shut it as the movement of Karin’s hand arrested my attention. It was her left hand. Adorned with an exquisite diamond solitaire, easily a carat given it looked large from several feet away, and a platinum band saddled up behind it on her slender finger.
I’d long since gotten over Gregory. But all the same, I shut my mouth, clenching my teeth as my eyes moved over to his hand, which showcased a matching, though wider, platinum band.
Gregory and Karin. Married.
Gregory
I threaded my way back through the wedding guests with our drinks in hand. I’d been unreasonably irritated for weeks, so I’d welcomed even a few minutes of space to go stand in line at the open bar and get drinks.
Halfway back I was stopped in place by Lillian Brown from the Pops, who wanted to ask me a question which was both work related and trivial. I answered her question, at the same time brushing her off a little. We were at a wedding ... it was hardly the time.
After I turned away from her, I continued making my way through the crowd. This was a huge wedding, far larger than mine and Karin’s had been. I’d insisted on a smaller, more private ceremony, though I think she’d have preferred the same sort of huge, lavish party as Madeline and James. This wasn’t my style, an event that required a huge hall to house four hundred or more guests. Bluntly, I was feeling claustrophobic as I finally made it through the crowd and slid into place beside my wife.
“Here you are,” I said, passing her the glass of wine.
She took the drink, then pressed her left hand into my arm, a touch that felt forced and uncomfortable. I took a too long sip of my gin and tonic and looked up, right into the eyes of Savannah Marshall.
I froze in place, involuntarily falling into Savannah’s huge brown eyes as she took me in. She was standing right there in front of me, while Karin’s grip on my upper arm squeezed a little bit tighter.
Savannah’s lips parted when I met her eyes. Her hair was piled high on her head, leaving her graceful, beautiful neck bare. She wore a deep blue sleeveless dress, which accentuated every curve of her body, ey
elets giving a tantalizing and constantly shifting guess at what might lie underneath.
She was … what? Twenty-six now? Twenty-seven, maybe, but I didn’t know when her birthday was. She no longer had the too-young, intentionally challenging look of a teenager trying to prove her independence. Now she looked like a confident, professional woman. A bit of color touched her cheeks as her eyes met mine, and I swallowed as her tongue brushed against her lips. Running just over that tiny scar.
I couldn’t see it from this distance, but I could still feel it.
Silence fell over the little group, and I don’t know if that was because they saw the sudden tension or if I just didn’t hear them anymore.
“Gregory,” she said. I was instantly steeping in her rich voice.
I swallowed. “Savannah.”
Karin’s grip on my arm tightened. Which was odd, all things considered. Savannah and I had a frenzied love affair years ago. But that was long over.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again,” I said, trying to maintain an even tone.
Savannah huffed softly through her nose as her raspberry colored lips twitched into a quirky grin. “Yeah, you, too. Congratulations.” She raised her glass just slightly as she nodded toward Karin and me. Her forced smile failed to light up her gorgeous eyes.
Karin’s grip on my arm loosened just slightly. “Thank you,” she answered Savannah as my mouth inexplicably ran dry.
“Yes,” I cleared my throat and raised my glass back, “thank you.”
As Madeline turned back around, she raised her eyebrow in my direction but turned away quickly again as more people approached her with congratulations. Nathan Connors appeared out of nowhere behind Madeline. Maybe he was standing there the whole time. It was hard for me to focus on anything besides the sinful curve of Savannah’s breasts in that dress.
“Ready to find our table? They’re about to serve dinner.” She kept her eyes trained on me as he spoke. Finally his eyes followed. Then darkened.
“Yeah,” she said, finally breaking her gaze from me, “let’s go.” She turned away from me and walked side-by-side with Nathan to their table. They didn’t hold hands, and he didn’t put his hand on the small of her back.
Foolish boy.
“Gregory?” Karin’s irritated voice cut through my thoughts.
“Yes.” I couldn’t enunciate properly as I tried to find Savannah in the periphery of my vision. Of my past.
“I said, shall we sit for dinner?” She spoke through her teeth as her eyes unabashedly glared at the empty space created by Savannah’s exit.
“Yes. Let’s.” I took Karin’s hand and led her to our table.
“Your hand is sweating,” she said, her voice sounding distant.
I shrugged. “It’s hot in here.”
Karin rolled her eyes as I pulled her chair out for her. Needing to change the course of our evening and fast, I leaned over her and pressed my lips softly against her cheek.
“You look absolutely stunning tonight, darling,” I whispered into her ear.
The corners of her eyes creased as a large smile took residence in her face. “Thank you, Gregory.”
Dinner went smoothly and the cake was served with mediocre coffee. I didn’t finish chewing my second bite before Sadie Daniels, oboe, turned to Karin and said, “So, when are you two going to start your family?” As she rubbed her growing belly, I swallowed a mouthful of the bitter coffee to cover up nearly choking.
Not this conversation. Not here.
“Soon,” Karin answered confidently as her hand glided over to my thigh underneath the crisp champagne colored linen tablecloth.
“Don’t look so excited, Gregory,” Sadie teased. Tasteless.
“Well,” I was honest, “we haven’t discussed it much, really. What with our work schedules and traveling this summer—”
“Traveling?” Karin dropped her hand and pulled her head back a bit.
“Yes, for the Big Five Tour,” I said matter-of-factly. Because it was fact.
American orchestras had been losing money at an alarming rate since 2000. Each year, it seemed, there was another long-standing orchestra ending their year in the red for the first time in decades. The Big Five decided to take initiative on the matter by forming an orchestra made up of members from each orchestra, and touring the United States. While the goal was to raise awareness of and increase excitement for classical music, the underlying goal was to gain new donors to keep this cornerstone of American arts above water.
“I thought we decided you were going to abstain from that tour.” Karin worked to keep her voice even. “James and Madeline aren’t participating.”
I took a deep breath and tried to diffuse a potential scene. “James and Madeline have just gotten married, Karin. They’ll be on their honeymoon when the tour starts in two weeks.”
I agreed to participate in the tour before checking with Karin first. The idea of checking with another person for professional decisions still seemed foreign to me, even after three years of marriage. And then Karin declared during the winter that while the BSO was on break for the season in the summer, we would start trying to have a baby.
A baby.
Something she wanted without a doubt, and something we hadn’t discussed much before getting married. Any time I tried to have a rational discussion with her about it, she became defensive and overly emotional. Those discussions were short.
The conversation about my joining the tour during what was deemed by Karin to be a very important summer in our marriage, however, was anything but short. We’d just discussed it this morning, too. I told her this was beyond being important for my career, that it was important for music as a whole. Not something I expected her to fully understand, not being a musician herself. But something I thought she could accept. Staring at her in the middle of our friends’ wedding, with all of our tablemates’ eyes on us, however, it was apparent she did not, in fact, understand.
As the band cued up and the dancing started, I saw the blue eyelet dress twirling on the far end of the dance floor and I had to get out of there.
“Excuse me.” I set my napkin on my chair, adjusted my bowtie, and headed for the bar. Karin wasn’t far behind me.
“You can’t run away from this, Gregory,” she snapped as I waited for the bartender to mix my drink.
“And you can’t run away from my decision, Karin. This tour is important.”
“To you!” Her voice was louder than I cared for.
“To music,” I shot back through gritted teeth. “If you don’t understand that …”
“What? If I don’t understand you placing the tour … this life over our life? Over starting a family?” Her blue eyes filled with tears.
I leaned in close, not wanting to invite an audience. “Karin, we never discussed having children. I’m open to the discussion, but not open to being forced into fatherhood.”
Her eyes cast to the floor for several seconds. When they looked up they were devoid of tears. Of any emotion at all. “I’m going home. I trust you can find your way there when you’re finished up here?” She looked past my shoulder waiting for an answer.
I nodded. “Yes.” At my response her eyes shot to mine as if she were shocked by my reply.
“Wow,” she sighed, “you have no fight left in you for anything but music, do you?” She picked up her purse and made her way toward the exit.
“Sir?” the bartender called out, handing me my drink.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, shoving a twenty into his tip jar before searching for a way outside that wasn’t the way Karin went. I needed fresh air.
Leaning against a rail and taking a long sip of my gin, I thought about this summer. I was going. There wasn’t much else to think about. Some colleagues I’d worked with during my days as a student at the conservatory who’d gone on to other orchestras would be participating, and it would be good to catch up. Before I could give it much more thought, Savannah’s melodic laughter burst through the French d
oors opposite where I was standing. She and Nathan were fanning themselves and looking up at the starlit sky. This afforded me an extra second to take in the way her neck glistened under the moonlight before they saw me.
“Oh!” Savannah seemed startled as her smile faltered on her lips. “Sorry.” She looked around the open space.
“No need to apologize. I’m just getting some air.”
I didn’t like the way Nathan Connors was eyeing me. It likely had to do with whatever Savannah told him about the last time we saw each other face-to-face, as I recklessly dismissed our relationship on the steps of my townhouse. I wondered if Savannah had received any of the emails I sent her in those first few weeks. She didn’t reply to any of them. Once Madeline told me Savannah had left for Europe, I stopped emailing. Putting an ocean between us was signal enough. She wanted nothing to do with me.
“Can you give us a minute?” Savannah turned toward Nathan, who looked shocked at her request.
Not as shocked as I felt.
“Savannah …” Nathan cocked his head to the side as he took a frustrated breath.
“Nathan …” she retorted mockingly, mimicking his head tilt.
“You’re impossible.” He shook his head, gave her a playful smile, and headed inside without another word.
The click of the doors shutting behind him lingered in the space between us, as she slowly turned around to face me. Her eyes were dark, longing, as she walked slowly toward me. My heart echoed the sound of her heels clicking against the paved patio as she walked toward me. Uneven steps. Uneven beats.
“I’m sorry I rushed off at the beginning of dinner,” she started.
I waved my hand. “No worries.” She laughed. Oh, her laugh. “What?” I asked.
“That thing you do with your hand. You do that when you’re annoyed. You did that at my audition … and any time I came to your office.”
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