Maestro

by Thomma Lyn Grindstaff

  Annasophia took a deep breath. “I really don't want to talk about my other life, okay? But I will say this. You – the older you – and Matt were like anchors for me. Music was also an anchor for me. The two of you and my music helped keep me sane. Maybe Elena needs something similar from us. She doesn't have anybody else, does she?”

  Maestro shook his head. “She isn't close to her parents, she doesn't have siblings, and she doesn't have any close friends. But it's no wonder, because she always winds up getting so negative, hateful, and jealous–”

  “A woman often knows another woman's heart,” Annasophia said. “I saw the look in her eyes when she talked about wanting friends and about wanting to be like an aunt to our baby. Maybe my pregnancy has brought her back to earth in a funny kind of way. Maybe it's reminding her of what's important. Love, not pettiness.”

  “Maybe.” He stroked her cheek. “I'd like to think so. And you, my sweet Anna, are the most warm-hearted woman in the world. But I don't to test your theory by turning you into her guinea pig.”

  Annasophia leaned back into the couch cushions. Her back was killing her. Soon, she would have to go back to bed and lie down. “The bottom line is that we don't have any other options. Your mother isn't feeling well, and besides, she doesn't approve of the fact that we're not married yet. I don't want to feel judged all the time.”

  “Okay,” Maestro said. “We'll call Elena. Or you can call her. I don't really care to talk to her. But please, promise me one thing.”

  “You know I will.”

  “If she starts humming the concerto, do whatever you can to stop her, or to stop yourself from hearing it. Don't take chances. If she starts humming, cover up your ears as best you can, sing over her, or better yet, leave as soon as she–”

  “How am I going to leave? I can barely walk.”

  Maestro frowned deeply. “I don't like this. Here you are, practically helpless, and the only person we can ask to come and help is somebody who has the power to send you back to your timeline. I just don't like this.”

  “She might have the ability to do it, but she no longer has the desire. It's been months. Don't you think that if she was going to do it, she would have done it long before now? She's been consistently kind and friendly to me.”

  “Well, what about the photo?” he asked.

  That damn photo. Annasophia had studiously avoided thinking about it. Now, the image of Elena's face from the photo situated itself front and center in her mind, where it hadn't been for months. Good grief. Should Annasophia judge Elena on that months-old photo, when her every action since finding out about the pregnancy had been well-intentioned and kind? That hardly seemed fair.

  “That was months ago. It was taken when she was still in stalker mode. And it was taken before she overheard us talking about the baby.” Or had it been? Annasophia no longer remembered when the photo had been snapped with regard to Elena's coming up behind them. It no longer mattered, though. For months now, Elena had shown her and Maestro that her attitude had changed, and it had to be because of the baby.

  “If Elena still hated me, if she still wanted you back, she would have sent me back to my timeline months ago,” Annasophia said. “Nothing else makes even the slightest bit of sense.”

  “Well, I have to admit, I'm stumped about that. But dearest, she can be very conniving–”

  “I think you're being overprotective,” Annasophia said. “Look at the evidence over these last eight months. That's a long time, you know. If Elena were as conniving and desperate as she used to be, do you think she could keep up a facade of kindness for this long?”

  “I don't know. I can't imagine why she would do such a thing.”

  “Bingo,” Annasophia said.

  “Bingo,” Maestro echoed, reluctance oozing from his voice.

  “Bring me the phone, please,” Annasophia said. She would call Elena now, and what's more, she would go ahead and tell Elena she was welcome to stay here before Maestro left on tour, just to show him that he had nothing to worry about.

  On the off chance that Elena did an about-face and reverted back to her old ways, then Annasophia would handle her. She didn't know exactly how, but she'd handled her before, and she could do it again.

  ###

  A week later, Annasophia was wondering why hadn't they let Elena help them out sooner. As she had said, she had been perfectly willing, and when Annasophia called her, she responded eagerly. She had basically moved into their home, with the promise that she would leave as soon as Maestro returned from his tour. He would be on tour for three months, well after the birth of the baby, so Elena would be around to help Annasophia care for little Matt, as well.

  How wonderful! Annasophia thought about the future she knew, where Matt had been brought up by Elena, a mother who had resented him, who hadn't even been his actual mother. This timeline was already shaping up to be different. Instead of a resentful mother, Elena, Matt would have a loving mother, Annasophia, and Elena would be a caring auntie figure.

  Over the week that Elena had been staying in the house, she had made herself indispensable. Kind and helpful, she let Annasophia get all the rest she needed, and because she was there to help with everything that needed doing, her presence freed Maestro up to practice piano more, in preparation for his tour. Annasophia kept an eye on Maestro, hoping that he would relax and accept Elena's presence. Sure enough, he seemed comfortable with the prospect of leaving for his tour today.

  Except that she and Maestro would miss the hell out of each other. When Annasophia thought of an entire three months without having her beloved Maestro around, her stomach clenched.

  She could hardly get out of bed. Her belly was huge and swollen, and her back hurt all the time. With her small, slim frame, she really wasn't built to bear children. As labor drew nearer and nearer, she became more and more frightened, despite trying to talk rationally to herself about the fact that countless women had babies and were just fine. The hospital was nearby. In 1974, medicine wasn't as advanced as in 2010, but still, she would surely do okay. Elena would be by her side, which would be nice, should she would need a hand to hold. With her narrow pelvis, Annasophia figured she wouldn't just be holding Elena's hand but squeezing it. She might need a stick to bite down on.

  She hated being afraid of the pain, but there it was. And as much as she appreciated Elena's help, she wished it could be Maestro by her side, holding her hand.

  Wait. This was 1974, before hospitals allowed fathers into delivery rooms. Even if Maestro weren't on tour, the hospital staff probably wouldn't let him be with her while she delivered Matt. They probably wouldn't even let Elena in. That was a benefit that 2010 had all over 1974. But 1974 was the timeline in which she could enjoy decades with Maestro, so she had to accept it, warts and all.

  Annasophia had been having Braxton Hicks contractions over the last week, and a contraction hit her now. She gasped, and sweat broke out on her forehead. Her OB-GYN had assured her that these contractions were perfectly normal – that they meant her uterus was strengthening itself for the upcoming birth. Damn, they hurt. If these hurt so much, what must birth be like?

  Elena rushed into the bedroom with a cool cloth and wiped Annasophia's forehead. “Are you all right?”

  Annasophia nodded and smiled as the pain started to fade. “It's just my uterus, doing push-ups. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Let's get you something to eat,” Elena said. “I bet baby is hungry.”

  Elena went out, and Maestro came in, looking heart-wrenchingly handsome in his travel clothes. He was packed and ready to go; all that remained to be done was to say goodbye, then head for the airport.

  Concern spread over his face when he saw Annasophia. “Dearest, are you in pain?”

  “Not much.” Nothing she hadn't learned to deal with, anyhow. Her doctor had said those contractions were good for her and the baby, and that had been all she'd needed to hear. A little pain was nothing; a lot of pain was nothing, for that matter. Pa
in could be borne. After it was over, she and Maestro would have Matt. Maybe, once she'd had plenty of time to recover, they might have another child.

  In the timeline she knew, Matt had been an only child. Annasophia would like to remedy that in this new timeline they were creating.

  Maestro sat down on the bed. Gently, he pulled her up against him in a hug. “I'm going to miss you, Schätzchen. And I'm going to do everything I can to get back here as soon as you go into labor. All you need to do is call – or have Elena call – and I'll take the first flight back here. Okay?”

  She nodded. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She hadn't wanted to cry when Maestro left. She had wanted him to take on tour a memory of her feeling strong and comfortable in Elena's capable hands, looking forward to the baby's birth. But oh, how it still hurt that Maestro was leaving!

  He had to go on tour. It was his job. No, more than his job. His passion.

  For an instant, she felt a glimmer of what Elena must have felt, married to a famous, ambitious concert pianist. Jealousy. He loves his career more than he does me. But it wasn't true. She knew that with her heart and with her rational mind.

  She smiled, hoping her smile would rid her mind of such silly, wayward thoughts. It worked, sort of. “Don't worry about me, sweetheart. I'll be fine. And yes, I love the idea of you getting back here for the baby's birth. Or at least...”

  “...as soon thereafter as I can manage,” he added gently.

  At that, she burst into tears. Maestro held her and stroked her hair, but he didn't say anything. It was like she could read his thoughts. Confusion. Sadness. What could he possibly say to make it better?

  “I love you,” he said softly.

  That did make it better.

  Elena returned with a plate of food. She set it on the rolling tray near the bed and positioned it in front of Annasophia. “Chicken soup, a tuna sandwich, and plenty of water,” she said. “I hope you enjoy. You're feeling better again, aren't you?”

  Annasophia nodded. “Thanks. It looks delicious.”

  Maestro stood up and looked first at Annasophia, then at Elena. His expression changed slightly when he gazed at Elena, but he no longer looked like he distrusted her. “All right. I have to go if I'm going to make my flight on time. But please–”

  “I'll take care of her,” Elena said. “You can be sure of that.”

  Maestro cocked a brow at Elena, and Annasophia thought he almost looked worried. Then he shook his head and smiled. “I know you will. And I appreciate it. I've got to say, I'm really happy with how things have turned out. We're lucky to have you as a friend, Elena. The baby will be lucky, too.”

  “Thank you, but I'm the one who's lucky.” Elena plumped the pillow on the bed, and Annasophia lay back down, gratefully. Sitting up for a long time hurt her back, though she determinedly sat for at least a few hours a day and spent some time walking, too. Yes, she was on what she considered to be bed rest, but staying in bed constantly would be bad for both her and the baby.

  Annasophia wished Elena would leave for just a moment, so that she and Maestro could share a long, deep kiss. She didn't feel comfortable, kissing him like that with somebody watching. She cleared her throat. Elena didn't move. Annasophia cleared her throat again, and looked directly at Elena, with a half-smile on her face.

  “Oh, I get it.” She grinned back and swiftly left the room.

  When Annasophia was alone with Maestro, she asked, “Are you comfortable with things?”

  He nodded, and neither his eyes nor his face showed any sign of displeasure. “I'm glad you talked me into giving her a chance. I guess women can sometimes figure things out about other women that we men just can't see.”

  “I've always thought that, too. No offense.” She grinned.

  He leaned over her and kissed her slowly, deeply, as though he never wanted to stop, She twined her fingers into his thick dark hair. Oh, how she wished they could make love! Just a quickie. Elena was just outside, though, and he had a plane to catch.

  “I'll call you every day,” he said. “As many times a day as I can.”

  “Please do,” she said, her tears flowing again. “I'll miss you so much.”

  “And I'll miss you. I wish...” He paused. Yes, She knew he wished he didn't have to travel without her, but not traveling at all simply wasn't an option. So he left his thought unsaid and gave her another kiss. “Be sure and let me know the second you go into labor, Schätzchen. I'll spend as much time here with you as I can before the next performance.”

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak without braying out a huge sob.

  “Every performance I do will be for you. Every note I play, you'll be in my heart, inspiring me. You and our son.”

  “I know,” she managed to say.

  He gave her another deep kiss, then left. At the door, he spoke to Elena. Annasophia strained to hear, and she caught, “...good care of her.” Surely there wasn't anything to worry about, with Elena here to help. She heard the front door close as Maestro left the house, and suddenly into her mind appeared the image of Elena's face in the photo that had been taken at the hotel restaurant, twisted with malevolence as she stared at the back of Annasophia's head. She shivered.

  She mustn't think about that. It was many months in the past. Elena had redeemed herself a million times over since then. Still, now that Maestro was gone, here was Elena's perfect opportunity to send Annasophia back to her time. She could come in here, humming the concerto, and Annasophia would have to think fast. Sing loudly. Throw something at Elena. Run out of the house. No, the latter certainly wasn't an option. She could barely walk. Despite her efforts to stay cool and think rationally, panic rose and twisted her guts like pretzels. Another Braxton Hicks contraction hit, and she groaned. This kind of stress certainly wasn't good for either her or the baby. She was only feeling this way because Maestro had just left. Wasn't she?

  Annasophia heard a noise at the doorway. She nearly jumped out of her skin. What kind of expression would Elena have on her face? Annasophia held her breath until Elena came in, and when she saw that Elena's expression was kind, filled with concern, she let out a long breath. She would have to calm down. These feelings were nothing more than crazy-making of her own invention.

  Elena rushed to her side. “Are you okay? You look pale.” She put a hand on Annasophia's forehead. “You're sweating. Another contraction?”

  “Yeah.” She forced a weak smile. “It won't be long now.”

  Elena began to hum, and Annasophia's heart did a somersault in her chest. No! Why hadn't she foreseen this kind of thing? She twisted in bed, groaning, until it hit her that Elena wasn't humming the concerto. Instead, she was humming “Morning Has Broken.” Annasophia sighed and clutched her head in her hands.

  “What's the matter?” came Elena's voice. A pause. Then Elena sat down on the bed and put her hand on Annasophia's shoulder. “Oh, my goodness. The humming. You didn't think I–”

  “No, no.” She hastened to reassure her. What would Elena think of her if she knew she'd been so paranoid? Why, she might just leave her here, and then Annasophia would have no help at all. Hell, in a case like that, Elena might as well send her back to 2010. “I'm feeling sad about Maestro – I mean, Will – having to leave, and my nerves are just a little bit on edge. But I appreciate everything you're doing for me. Please know that.”

  Elena smiled. “It's all right. I understand how you feel. I always had a hard time, too, when he went on tour and I couldn't go.”

  Annasophia scowled, despite herself. No matter how pleasant things were between she and Elena, she didn't like hearing Elena reminisce about her and Maestro's years as husband and wife.

  “I'm sorry. I can be a little insensitive sometimes. I don't mean to.” Elena stood up and headed for the doorway. Then she glanced back at Annasophia. “Is there anything you need right now? Otherwise, I'll leave you to rest. You look like you could use a nap. Perhaps you'll wake up feeling better, and by that time, I'll have din
ner ready.”

  Elena wasn't going to send her back. Why had she thought such a thing? “Thank you,” Annasophia said. “I mean it. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you.”

  “Well, you're stuck with me. This really means a lot to me, to have real friends and to become a part of your extended family.” Elena paused. “As you know, I never really had a family where I felt accepted, where I felt unconditionally loved and cared for.”

  “Same exact thing here. I'm so glad we can put our rocky start aside and become good friends. It's nice for both of us, for Maestro, and especially for the baby.” Annasophia grinned ruefully. “I'm sure I'll need some help once the baby is here. He'll be a handful, I'm sure.”

  Elena furrowed her brow. “You're always calling the baby he. You might have a girl, you know.”

  That was right, Elena didn't know about Matt. Annasophia had never wanted to tell her that she and Maestro not only knew the baby's sex but that she, Annasophia, also knew who the baby would grow up to be. She supposed that was a bit too private – she wanted to keep that knowledge only for herself and Maestro. It really wasn't any of Elena's business, and it touched on the time-travel issue, about which – Annasophia had to admit – she still didn't want Elena knowing too many details.

  Maybe over time, she would become less and less cynical. She had come a long way, though – trusting Elena to stay here and take care of her, and Elena had certainly proved to be worthy of her trust. All Annasophia had to do was to stop being so damned paranoid.

  “Maestro wants a boy for our first child,” Annasophia said. “That's why we're always saying he. But we would love a girl, too, every bit as much.” At least the latter part was true. Perhaps their next child would be a girl.

  Looking puzzled, Elena opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it. Annasophia wondered if she'd been about to tell her that when she and Maestro were married and talking about having a family, he'd said he wanted a girl. Oh, well.