Symphony in Blue

by M. J. Duncan

  “That’s nuts,” one of the older boys muttered.

  “Do any of you play an instrument?” Gwen asked, shifting the focus from herself to the group. She was pleased to see that, while the majority of the kids shook their head no, three of them nodded. “What do you play?”

  “Piano,” a boy and a girl who looked like they were siblings chirped.

  “Were you able to pick out the piano in some of the pieces we played today?” Gwen smiled when they both nodded. “Good!” She held out her hands and gave each of them a high five. “And how about you?” she asked, looking at the third child, a little girl of about nine or ten, who had been the only one to not look confused when she’d said she played the cello.

  “Cello,” the girl replied shyly.

  “Excellent choice, my dear.” Gwen winked at her and held out her fist. “Cellos for the win.”

  The little girl laughed and tapped her knuckles to Gwen’s. “Cellos.”

  “What was your favorite song to play?” one of the boys asked.

  Gwen bobbed her head from side to side thoughtfully before answering, “I think the Pirates of the Caribbean theme. Or Star Wars. How about you guys? Which was your favorite?” She nodded encouragingly as they went down the line, sharing their favorites. When they had finished sharing, she asked, “Do you guys have any other questions?”

  The kids all shook their heads no.

  Gwen smiled. “Well, on behalf of the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra, I would like to thank you for coming to our rehearsal today.” She made a face and added in a mock whisper, like she was confessing a deep, dark secret, “It’s a lot more fun to play for other people than it is to just play for ourselves.”

  “You’re welcome!” one of the younger children chirped. “Bye!” the rest of the kids chorused, waving at her quickly before they turned and sprinted back up the stairs to where their mothers were watching.

  Gwen laughed softly to herself shook her head as she climbed the few steps between her and Dana, who looked amazing in a pair of khaki shorts that fell to the middle of her thighs and a loosely tailored, nearly see-through plain white tee. Of course, the most striking part of her ensemble was her prosthetic, which was different than either of the ones Gwen had seen her before—the area between the foot and the socket an ornate, steampunk inspired carved copper-looking metal frame that was shaped like a typical lower limb. It was beautiful, a truly functional work of art that was nearly as striking as the woman who wore it. “Sorry about that,” she apologized as she stopped on the small landing at the end of Dana’s row.

  “Why?” Dana’s forehead wrinkled. “It was cute.”

  “I’m glad you think so, but I am sorry that I made you wait.”

  “It wasn’t a problem at all. I promise,” Dana assured her with a warm smile.

  The gentleness in Dana’s tone made Gwen’s stomach flip, and she licked her lips as she looked down at her feet. “Thank you,” she murmured. She took a deep breath and forced herself to look back into Dana’s eyes. “So, lunch?”

  “God yes, I’m starving.” Dana chuckled and ran a hand through her hair as she added, “Though, that’s not exactly news. I’m pretty much always hungry.”

  “Anywhere in particular you’d like to go?”

  Dana grinned. “I’ve been kinda craving Gracias Madre lately. How do you feel about vegan Mexican food?”

  Gwen shook her head. “I’ve never had it, but I love Mexican food, so yeah. Why not?”

  “Awesome. It’s maybe five miles away, down on Melrose, so it’s not too far, but parking can be a bit of a bitch down there. Would you want to ride down there with me?”

  Gwen hefted her cello higher on her back. “Sure. But the lot here is going to get locked in about an hour or so, so I can't really leave my car here. And, I would prefer to not leave my cello just sitting in my car anyway. I don’t live too far from here—really, it's just on the other side of the freeway—so if you wouldn’t mind following me back to my place, I can drop off my cello and everything and we can head out from there?”

  Dana nodded. “That sounds good. Should I follow you there, or do you want to just give me your address and I can just GPS it, or…”

  Gwen smiled at her rambling. “Where’d you park?”

  “In the lot over there.” Dana pointed at what, for actual events, was the VIP parking lot.

  “I’m over there too. So, if you want, you can just follow me?”

  “Of course.” Dana stretched her arms over her head and grinned as she let her hands fall back to her sides and she tipped her chin at the instrument strapped to Gwen’s back. “Can I help you with that case?”

  “I got it,” Gwen assured her with a smile, touched by the offer.

  “Ah, well. Okay, then.” Dana nodded and waved a hand toward the stairs. “After you.”

  NINETEEN

  “So do kids always come up to you like that?” Dana asked as she backed out of Gwen’s driveway.

  “Well, I don’t normally wander into the stands after rehearsal,” Gwen said as she looked around the interior of Dana’s Mini Cooper, surprised by how spacious the tiny car really was on the inside, “but sometimes there will be an intrepid few camped outside the stage door waiting for us.”

  “And you said the symphony didn’t have groupies,” Dana teased.

  “I’m assuming I said that at some point when we were in Maui?” When Dana nodded, Gwen shook her head, surprised by exactly how much of their conversations from that weekend Dana remembered. “Yes, well, I don’t think the elementary school set really counts. Besides, it’s fun to see kids excited about classical music—it’s not like we’re Taylor Swift or whoever’s playing on their favorite radio station.”

  “You sell yourselves short, Gwen. You guys were incredible.”

  “Well, thank you. But I’m sure you see my point.”

  “Not at all.” Dana grinned. “I’m gonna get Regan to come out here with me and we’re gonna be groupies for your next concert.”

  Gwen laughed. “Well, you’d have to get past security, but Luke would love that. Especially if she started screaming like he was a big star and asked for his autograph.”

  “What, no fainting?”

  “Hey, if it’s in her wheelhouse, feel free to tell her to go for it.”

  “God, could you imagine?” Dana chuckled, shaking her head. “Seriously though, I really did enjoy listening to you guys play. It was the perfect way to relax after this morning.”

  “You’re too sweet, but thanks. I’m really glad you liked the music. Did your practice not go well?”

  “Nah, it was fine. Just long. I had the college team from 5:30 to 7:30 and then club from 7:30 to 10:00, same as usual, but I booked it out of the pool to try and get to your rehearsal as close to the beginning as possible, so it was just a little more stressful than I’m used to.”

  “I’m sorry you felt like you needed to rush out of your practice to get up here. I thought I told you that we’d be playing until noon.”

  “You did.” Dana shrugged as she pulled to a stop at a red light, and smiled shyly as she added, “I just didn’t want to miss too much. I know I’ve only done it once before, but I like listening to you play.”

  Gwen smiled, touched by the genuine earnestness in Dana’s tone. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Dana murmured as she held Gwen’s gaze, conveying with a look how much she meant what she had said.

  The heat in Dana’s gaze sent a pleasant flutter through Gwen’s stomach, and she cleared her throat softly as she looked away, focusing on the bumper of the Land Rover in front of them at the light. She bit her lip as she heard Dana echo the sound, and did her best to try and change the subject. “I still can’t believe you can get college kids to voluntarily go to practice so early in the morning.”

  “Oh, they’ll work out again this afternoon.” The light changed, and Dana took her foot off the brake as she explained, “Every day’s a double, with an hour of weigh
ts before they hit the pool in the afternoon.”

  Gwen gaped at her. “You’re kidding. They practice in the morning and in the afternoon?”

  “Of course.”

  “That’s insane.”

  “Psht, that’s nothing. If it were during school, they’d have dinner after practice and then study hall from 6:30 to 10:00. At least now they can do whatever they want at night.”

  “Good lord. And I thought music was demanding.”

  “Swimming’s intense.” Dana nodded. “Though, to be fair, they are only required to lift three out of the five days a week we’re in the gym, and we’ll split the afternoon practices during the week into required and optional sessions.”

  “Do any of your athletes actually opt out of the optional training sessions?”

  Dana shook her head. “No. I don't necessarily agree with the whole thing, but optional practices are optional in name only. It's been that way for forever and things are so competitive that it's not going to change anytime soon.”

  “That's brutal.”

  “Indeed it is. But”—she winked at Gwen as she stopped at another red light—“swimmers are so badass that they can handle it no problem.”

  “Oh, they are, are they?” Gwen chuckled.

  “Absolutely. Have you seen swimmers on deck at the Olympics? We’re like gods amongst men.”

  “Luke certainly appreciated the abs of the guys standing behind you in the picture you sent me yesterday.”

  “Just the guys?” Dana gasped, her eyebrows raised in playful indignation. “I have the best abs of the group.”

  “Oh, believe me, yours are…incredible,” Gwen murmured, trying and failing to keep from blushing as she said it. Because, while it was true, it also felt like it was something she shouldn’t comment on, and she pursed her lips as she worried that she had overstepped. Dana seemed pleased by her agreement, though, so she took that as a sign that it was okay. “But your suit didn't exactly show them off and, truthfully, I think he was partial to those tiny little suits the guys behind you were wearing.”

  “Yeah, that’s fair enough.” Dana laughed and shook her head. “Those briefs don’t leave anything to the imagination, and the worst is the one with a giant eyeball right on the dude’s junk. Like, I’m gay as hell and I can’t keep from looking whenever one of the guys wears that one.”

  Gwen chuckled. “That sounds…interesting.”

  Dana shuddered dramatically. “It’s not. I mean, I’ve been swimming competitively since I was five and I’ve seen some crazy-ass suits over the years, but that one is definitely the worst.”

  “Five? Really? Isn’t that kind of young?”

  “You started playing the cello at what age, again?” Dana teased.

  “Three,” Gwen muttered. “Okay, fine, point taken.”

  “I was just messing with ya,” Dana said as she turned right onto Melrose. “But, yes, I was a young grouper. But my older brothers and sister swam for the team at the time, and Mom says she threw me into the pool because I was driving her nuts jumping up and down the bleachers while they practiced and she figured that since she was sitting at the pool anyways, I may as well burn off some of my crazy. My brothers and sister all moved onto other sports not long after I joined up, but swimming was just my thing.”

  “Do you still swim?”

  Dana nodded. “Every day.”

  “When in the world do you have the time?”

  “After club practice, usually. I’d love to just jump in with the club team like I did yesterday because I had meetings between the morning and afternoon sessions, but it’s kinda hard to coach and swim the sets at the same time so I only do that on rare occasions. I’ll usually lift a little when they do, though, because that’s not my program to run.”

  “Christ. And I can’t even remember the last time I made it to one of my yoga classes,” Gwen muttered.

  “I just go crazy if I don’t work out every day. I have too much energy and need to burn it off somehow.”

  “Still…” Gwen shook her head. “Your dedication is remarkable.”

  “Says the woman who practices how many hours a day?” Dana teased. “It's six-to-one-half-dozen of the other, really. Your job is music; mine is swimming.”

  Gwen nodded. When put that way, it made sense. Though, judging by the number of overweight coaches she’d seen on the sidelines of sporting events over the years, she felt like it was safe to say that the fitness of the coaching staff didn’t necessarily matter all that much. “So, you have a big family?”

  “I guess so, yeah.” Dana shrugged. “There’s four of us kids. I’m the baby, which they love to keep reminding me about. But Danielle and Dennis are the oldest—they’re twins—and then there’s my brother Derek, and then me.”

  “Are you guys close?”

  “Oh yeah. I mean, we were always pretty close growing up because Dani and Denny are only four years older than me and Derek’s between us, so we were really close in age, but they all banded together and kinda became my protectors after this whole thing.” She slapped at her prosthetic.

  “Do you see them often?”

  “Yeah. Kind of. I was down in Orange County a couple weeks ago for my nephew Eli’s birthday and saw everyone then, but we’ll usually all get together at my parents’ place in Mission Viejo around once a month for a barbecue or something.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “It is. How about you? Any brothers or sisters?”

  Gwen shook her head. “Nope. Just me.”

  “Oh. Um, sorry?”

  “Why?” Gwen smiled and ran a hand through her hair as she looked out the window at the quaint storefronts of the little shops lining the boulevard.

  “I don’t know,” Dana admitted with a little laugh. “I just didn’t know what else to say to that one.”

  “It’s fine, really,” Gwen assured her. “So, what time do you have to be back at work this afternoon?”

  “I don’t. The strength and conditioning staff structures all of the team’s lifting workouts so I have one of my junior assistants covering the session and taking roll for me, and I'm going to play hooky from practice this afternoon.”

  “Will you get in trouble for that?”

  “You kidding? When I told Bill—our program head—I'd like to take the afternoon for myself, he practically shoved me out the door.” Dana laughed. “I guess I'm what you’d call a bit of a workaholic. He’s always riding me to take some time off, so he was thrilled when I asked for the afternoon.”

  “So we don’t have to rush through lunch, then.”

  “Nope.” Dana sighed happily as she stretched her arms out straight against the steering wheel. “I’m free as a bird for the rest of the day. How about you?”

  Gwen smiled. “I’m free as a bird as well. Though at some point this week I need to get to a pet store to pick up everything Luke says I’m going to need for the kitten I’m adopting.”

  “You’re getting a cat? How cool. We had a cat growing up.”

  “Oh, good, then maybe you can give me some pointers if I need them and Luke’s not available. I’ve never had a pet before.”

  “Cats are easy. Well, most cats are. Regan’s cat Ryan is a bit of an asshole.”

  “Ryan? That’s…an interesting choice for a name on her part, isn’t it?”

  Dana chuckled. “He was born with only three legs, so she named him after me.”

  Gwen’s eyebrows lifted in disbelief. “Please tell me you're kidding.”

  “Why?”

  “That's mean? Like she's mocking you…or something?” Gwen stumbled, thrown by the way Dana was looking at her like she was being ridiculous for being offended on her behalf. “What?”

  Dana smiled and shook her head. “You're sweet.”

  “You really don't care that she named her cat after you?”

  “Nope. I thought it was great.” Dana’s hand twitched on the gear shift like she was going to reach for Gwen’s leg, but she shook her head and tigh
tened her grip on the knob instead. “We’re both disabled—although, if I’m being honest, I don't really like that word because it implies that there's something wrong with the way I interact with the world when I just have to do some things a little differently—and maybe I'm an asshole like him too, who knows, but—”

  “You are not an asshole,” Gwen interrupted.

  Dana’s answering smile was pure sunshine as she pulled into a parking spot in front of a white stucco building with black awnings. “I'm glad you think so. But my point is that I'm not ashamed of what makes me me. Yes, I'm different than ninety-some percent of the population, but I wouldn't be me if I wasn't, and I honestly don't see a reason to pretend that I'm not. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah.” Gwen nodded. “I'm sorry.”

  “Don't be. I actually think it's cute that you were offended on my behalf, but I look at my stub of a leg like I do the color of my hair or my eyes—it’s something that's a part of me, but it’s not anything that defines me.”

  “Still,” Gwen began, preparing to apologize again, but stopped when Dana’s right index finger pressed lightly against her lips. The soft touch and the gentleness of Dana’s smile made her stomach flip, and she held her breath as she tried to get control of herself.

  “It's okay, Gwen. I promise.”

  Gwen nodded, and barely resisted the urge to lick her lips when Dana pulled her finger away. “Okay.”

  “Good.” Dana winked at her as she opened her door. “Now, come on, I’m starving.”

  “Can I ask you about your prosthetic? It’s different than the ones I’ve seen you wear before.”

  “My brother would be offended if you didn’t,” Dana replied as she skipped up the stairs to the restaurant’s front door and pulled it open.

  “Your brother?” Gwen echoed as she stepped into the large, open restaurant, so utterly confused by what Dana had said that she barely noticed the packed room’s dark mahogany floors or the intricate tile work that covered the front of the long bar that ran along the right side of the space.

  “Right, sorry. My family owns a prosthetics company.”