“Why did you wait two years to take lessons once you realized you wanted to write songs and play the piano?”
“My mom and I never got along, so when I asked to take piano lessons, she blew it off as me being silly again.”
“So you’ve been storing up all that music in your head for years without being able to express your talent in any way?”
“I did take a couple of music classes during my junior and senior year of high school, which helped me learn the basics and to start writing down the songs that were filling up my head more and more every day.”
“Excuse me. I have your pizza.” Chase and I sat back in our chairs so the waiter could place the pan in the middle of the table.
“Thank you,” Chase said, eyeing the pizza, then the waiter.
“This pizza smells like rich ripe tomato sauce and melting cheese,” I said. “I’m so hungry. I haven’t eaten since this morning. How about you?”
“Starving. But, if writing music and playing the piano is your dream, what are you going to do until you’re able to take lessons?”
“I have to find a job and save every penny I can so that not too far down the road I can rent an apartment where I can have a piano and sign up for lessons. I did save up some money the last two years, but I’m sure it’s not nearly enough to rent a place like that.”
“Are you going to stay at the Blue Sky until you have the money?” Chase inquired.
“I signed a six-month lease, so, yes, I’ll be staying at the Blue Sky for at least that long. The lady said I could rent the apartment on a monthly basis after my first six months, so guess that’s what I’ll do for now.” I inhaled another piece of pizza, then said, “Enough about me. What are you doing in New York?”
He stopped eating and replied, “I just graduated from the University of Missouri in Columbia with a degree in journalism, and am now looking for a job at one of New York’s newspapers, even if I have to be a flunky at first. Like you, I have a dream. One day I’d like to be the author of a Pulitzer Prize-winning story.”
“Will you be moving out of the Blue Sky as soon as you find a job?” I asked.
“Nope. I’ll have to work a while before I can do that. I’m afraid we’re probably stuck with one another as neighbors for the time being.” He gave me a wicked grin. “If you’re finished, we can take a stroll around the neighborhood before returning to the great Blue Sky Apartments.” We both laughed.
Chase pointed out some of the places he knew I’d need to stop at in the next few days and gave me some advice about finding a job. After listening to him, I figured retail would be my best and easiest option. As Chase leaned into the door of Joe’s Liquor Store, he waited for me to enter in front of him, then said, “Thought I’d pick up a six-pack of beer while we’re out and about. Hope you don’t mind.”
“No. You go ahead,” I said with a smile as I stood by the door thinking about my mother and the endless number of liquor bottles I’d seen her throw out over the years.
Back out on the sidewalk, Chase led me to a newsstand selling the latest edition of several New York papers. Handing me a couple, he said, “I know for sure these two have classified sections in them that might help you find a job.”
“But, I could just look online for jobs,” I replied.
“Sure, but it’s more fun to look at the current classifieds and circle the ones you want to call or drop by to fill out an application.”
“That’s right. You want to be a newspaper man yourself,” I said with a grin as I paid and thanked the vendor for the papers.
Smiling, Chase picked up a couple of copies for himself, then we headed back to the Blue Sky so we could each browse through the classifieds with a fine-tooth comb. “Thanks for the pizza, and good luck finding a job,” Chase said, unlocking the door to his apartment.
“Thanks for all of your help today. I know I’d still be cleaning up the mess in my apartment if it weren’t for you. Good luck to you, too, Chase.” Even though it’d been a long day, once inside, I immediately found myself looking through the classifieds for any job I thought I might be able to do.
~ ~ ~
I didn’t see much of Chase for the next week or so. Just a glimpse here and there when coming or going. “Any luck finding a job?” I asked as I strode behind him near the Blue Sky on a Friday evening.
He stopped and turned around, causing me to almost bump into him. “Hi, Anna Louise. I’ve about walked my legs off this week, but a couple of interviews for openings at the New York Times went well, so I’ve got my fingers crossed. How about you?”
“Well, as luck would have it, I went into this place called the Piano Emporium today, and the owner, Mr. Cutler, an engaging, white-haired gentleman, interviewed me right there on the spot. We talked as he showed me each and every piano in the store. His blues eyes sparkling with pride.
“Then, as we stopped at the last piano, he asked if I could play. Of course, I said no, but he insisted I give it a try, and before I knew it, I was playing one of the most fanciful songs that had been rolling around in my head for years.” I laughed. “I couldn’t believe it when Mr. Cutler clapped and told me I had the hands of a pianist. I’m sure my face turned every shade of red in the universe.” Suddenly, my hands flew to my face. “Chase, he not only hired me, but he also gave me the name of a school where I can take piano lessons. I could’ve kissed him.”
Hearing his phone ring, Chase excused himself as he pulled the phone out of his pocket, glancing at caller ID, then putting it on speaker. “Hello. This is Chase Monroe.”
“This is Sheila Parks from the New York Times. I interviewed you yesterday and I would like to offer you the news reporter opening we talked about. You’ll be out in the field, grabbing information on all of the biggest stories you can. Would you be able to start as soon as Monday?”
“Yes, ma’am. I would. What time would you like me to be there?”
“Let’s say nine a.m.”
“I’ll be there. Thank you. Have a great weekend!”
Excited, Chase thrust his phone back into his pocket, then, to my surprise, picked me up and twirled me around right there in the middle of the sidewalk. Being in New York, no one even noticed. Setting me back down, he declared, “It’s been a good day for both of us. Let’s go celebrate.”
Chapter 2
As I walked in the front door of the Piano Emporium on Monday morning, Mr. Cutler looked up from his computer when he heard the entry bell chime, and smiled at me through the window in his office.
“Good morning, Anna Louise,” he said, stepping around the corner. “Follow me. I’ll show you where you can hang and store your things in the back entryway, then I’m sending you out with my piano tuner to one of the mansions here in New York whose mistress is planning a big shindig this weekend for some of the wealthier folks around the city.”
My big brown eyes grew even bigger. “You have to be kidding.”
He laughed, then said, “Fasten your seatbelt, Anna Louise. You’re going to be in for the ride of your life if you love music as much as I think you do.”
“Thank you, Mr. Cutler. I’m ready to learn everything I can from you. And on my way home from work this afternoon, I’m going to stop by that music school you told me about the other day.”
“I’m glad,” he replied. “Thomas is waiting out back in the SUV. Hurry along now.”
“I’ll see you later, then. Bye.”
Opening the back door of the Emporium, I stepped outside and smiled as Thomas jumped out of the SUV and came around to open the passenger door for me. “Thank you,” I said. “I’m Anna Louise Armstrong. Guess I’m going with you this morning to observe while you tune a piano.”
“Nice to meet you, Anna Louise. I’m Thomas. Hop in, then sit back and enjoy the ride. If you’re new to New York, you’ll be su
rprised at how far we need to travel and at the sights you’ll see along the way.”
I stared out the window as we drove along, taking in everything I could. After a while, I asked, “Was it hard learning how to tune a piano?”
“Not really. I grew up watching my father do it for years. Before Pop opened the Emporium, he used to tune every piano for miles around, working out of our home. Between the two of us we’ve gotten to know a lot of New Yorkers, most of them a lot wealthier than they were years ago.”
“You’re Mr. Cutler’s son?”
“The one and only. Hang on. The road ahead has a whole lot of curves in it before we get to the house on the top of the hill.”
“The view of New York from up here is extraordinary!” I said excitedly. “Never thought I’d ever get to see anything like this. There’s the Statue of Liberty.”
Parking the SUV in the driveway, Thomas hopped out. “Follow me. You’ll do fine.”
After grabbing his brown leather bag out of the back, Thomas rang the doorbell. As the door opened, a trim, glamorous woman appeared. “Good morning, Olivia,” Thomas said, “I’ve brought a helper along today. This is Anna Louise Armstrong.”
“Nice to meet you, Anna Louise. Come on in. I’ll walk with you to the piano.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” I replied. “This is my first day at the Piano Emporium and I’m so excited.”
“Mr. Cutler and Thomas are two of my favorite people and the Emporium is one of my most guilty pleasures when I’m out shopping in the neighborhood near Times Square.” She stopped next to a beautiful grand piano. “Here we are. I’ll see you a little later.”
“Thanks. We’ll get busy,” Thomas replied, setting his bag of tuning instruments down next to the piano.
I watched in awe for the next couple of hours as Thomas worked away tuning the piano. His hands moved smoothly and gracefully over the keys and tuning pins, as if he were doing it with his eyes closed. Toward the end, with everything back in place, Thomas asked if I’d like to try playing something.
“Oh, I couldn’t,” I said, my voice cracking.
“Sure you can. Pop says you have a good ear.”
I sat down on the piano bench and began to play a song I’d written while still in high school. I couldn’t believe I was actually playing on such a magnificent musical instrument. It felt surreal. I raised my hands up off of the keys.
“Keep playing, Anna Louise. I want to listen to be sure everything is in tune.”
He watched and listened as my fingers glided over the keys once again.
“Whatever that song is, it’s beautiful. I hope you have it written down because one day Pop and I’ll produce it for you.”
“Produce it for me?” I had to pinch myself to believe what he was saying. I guess Mr. Cutler was right when he told me to fasten my seatbelt for the ride ahead.
“Sure. We’ll record it with the sound of an orchestra in the background so everyone who comes into the store can hear you playing.” Thomas glanced over at me from under the lid of the piano. “Maybe some big music mogul will come in and want to buy it,” he chortled.
“You’re joking, right?” His comment could’ve knocked me over with a feather.
“I never joke about great music, young lady, and that song may just be award winning.”
Back at the store, Thomas told his father about our day tuning the piano on the hill. When he was finished, Mr. Cutler gave me a sly smile and a wink. “I think you’re going to be a real asset to the Emporium, Anna Louise.”
~ ~ ~
Exhausted, but happy, I flagged down a cab and gave the driver the address Mr. Cutler had given me for the music school where he said I could sign up for piano lessons. As the cab pulled up, I saw a weathered sign with black letters hanging on the front of a big, old, brick building, at least three or four stories high, that said The School of Musical Arts on it. He’d also told me the school was run by a Mrs. Kristina McKenzie and that only those students the teachers felt were talented enough to go on to become accomplished pianists were accepted into the program. Not too much pressure!
I was beyond nervous, but I rang the doorbell and waited. Slowly, the huge front door opened and I was greeted by a cheerful face smiling at me. She was an attractive woman, who appeared to be about the same age as my mother. Her eyes were a lively blue-green and her hair reddish brown. I liked her already.
“Hello, miss,” she said. “Can I help you?”
“I’ve come to ask about piano lessons. Mr. Cutler from the Piano Emporium sent me.”
“Yes, do come in. I’m Ms. Sara Thompson.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Anna Louise Armstrong.”
Ms. Thompson led me down a long hallway, then turned into one of the rooms. There, in the middle of the room, stood a stunning baby grand piano. The light from the windows set it aglow. It was hard to believe I might be taking lessons on something this spectacular.
As I glanced around the room, Ms. Thompson began to speak. “Mr. Cutler called ahead to let us know you’d be coming. He said you haven’t had any prior lessons, but he was sure you would turn out to be one of the best pupils we’ve ever had, so on his recommendation, the school is going to accept you into the program.”
“I didn’t know about any of that, but I’ll do my best to live up to his recommendation. Thank you.”
Ms. Thompson walked over to the piano, picked up two music books, and returned. Handing them to me, she asked, “When would you like your lessons to begin?”
“Oh, as soon as possible,” I replied. “I can hardly wait to get started.”
“Okay then, today is Monday. Let’s set up your first lesson for one week from today. In the meantime, if you’re able to practice, this first book will teach you about the keys on the piano and some chords. And once you feel comfortable with those, I’d like you to practice the first two songs in the second book.”
“Thank you, Ms. Thompson. I work until five o’clock each day, so what time would you like me to be here?”
“Could you make it by five-thirty?”
“I could. See you next Monday, then.”
“I’ll walk you out so you don’t get lost,” Ms. Thompson said.
I felt ten feet tall as I stepped out of the big, brick building. I thought my heart was going to burst. Mr. Cutler had said I could practice after hours on one of his used pianos until I could afford one of my own, from the Emporium, of course.
Suddenly, it dawned on me, I’d forgotten one very important question. I hurried back up to the front of the building and rang the doorbell. Ms. Thompson answered again.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “but I forgot to ask how much the program is going to cost me.” My hands were shaking so much I thought I might drop the music books.
“For now you’ll be on a scholarship sponsored by Mr. Cutler in memory of his wife, but after a year you’ll need to start paying and we’ll talk about that when we get there.” Ms. Thompson had a wide smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes. “You’re a lucky young lady. Mr. Cutler seems to really like you.”
“I don’t know how to thank you or Mr. Cutler. I’m almost certain I wouldn’t have had the money to be in your program otherwise. I’ll be sure to thank Mr. Cutler right away in the morning. Goodnight, Ms. Thompson.”
“Goodnight, Anna Louise. See you next Monday.”
~ ~ ~
It was after six o’clock when I climbed out of the cab in front of the Blue Sky Apartments with my backpack and music books, not only tired, but hungry too. I reached up to open the door.
“Let me get that for you. Looks like you have your hands full.”
Chase looked amazing, like he’d just walked out of a Calvin Klein ad. He had to be at least six feet tall. His shiny, black hair was combed straight back
. And, as usual, his friendly green eyes seemed to be filled with questions. No wonder he wanted to be a journalist.
“I’d whistle if I knew how. You look like a fashion model in your news reporter duds.”
“Why, thank you, Miss Armstrong. I’ll take that as a compliment. You appear to have had a long day.”
“I have, but in a good way. Would you like to come by for a green salad and red grapes topped with grated cheddar cheese, some garlic breadsticks, and chocolate mousse for dessert while we talk about our first day on the job?”
“Um. Not exactly my kind of food, but I accept your invitation. Give me twenty minutes to shower and change, then I’ll be over.”
“Knock three times and come in. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”
“You’re pretty trusting, young lady. I’ll knock three times, but please lock your door.”
“Okay. I forgot I’m living in the big city now. See you in twenty.”
By the time Chase rapped three times, I had the table set and was busy putting the salad together. The grated cheese rested on the cutting board as the breadsticks browned in the oven.
“You’re out of breath,” I said, opening the door. He had one hand behind his back.
“Just raced up three flights of stairs so I wouldn’t be late,” Chase replied. “Oh, these are for you.” He handed me a bouquet of white daisies with bright yellow centers in a clear vase.
“I’ve never received flowers before,” I sang out, taking the vase. “They’re beautiful. Thank you. Come on in.” He followed me into the kitchen. I set the bouquet in the middle of the rickety, old, chrome table that stood along one wall accompanied by two bent up chairs with red plastic seats. They left a lot to be desired, but at least I had them for now.
“Have a seat,” I said. “The breadsticks will be ready in a second.” As I set the salads down on the table, Chase asked me about my first day of work in New York.
The Gift of Goodbye Page 2