The guys on the subway seemed to think it was special. I could feel them staring at my exposed legs, and it both amused me and made me profoundly uncomfortable.
Since everyone in my life had known Alex and I were together, I'd never received such attention before. To the guys we knew, I was off-limits. I didn't know if any of them had ever wished I wasn't, but I doubted it had crossed their minds. I was Alex's girlfriend and therefore not worth thinking about as anything but Alex's girlfriend.
The men on the subway, though, and the man who winked at me as we passed on the street, didn't know me as anything but 'girl in short pink skirt'. To them there was no reason for me to be off-limits.
I couldn't imagine starting to date, though. Not yet, and maybe not even for the seven years Tina had said it would take me to get over Alex. Seven years sounded like forever but also made sense. After all, every element of my life had his fingerprints on it.
So did all of Elaine's friends.
Thinking about Alex and his sudden stud status hurt. He hadn't waited seven years. He hadn't even waited seven days between some of those women.
I gave a sigh, then made myself let the thought drift away as I rode up in the elevator. Far better to think about my own life than Alex's new one. I'd been wrong, a moment ago: there were things in my life now with no connection to him. Wendy and Tina and my crocheting and Harrison, who'd spent his first night in my apartment snoring away on my pillow and allowing me only a tiny corner for myself. He was spoiled rotten already and I already loved him. I'd come a long way since Alex left. I might, and did, have a long way to go, but I was making progress in building a new life.
I left the elevator, feeling proud of my accomplishments, and my heart stopped beating then smashed hard against my ribs.
Alex. Here, in my building.
I stood frozen, staring at his back, my mind gone utterly blank.
As the initial shock wore off, though, doubt crept in, then the guy turned around and relief flooded me so hard my knees actually knocked together. Not even close. Right height, and wearing a jacket like one of Alex's, but not him. A courier, from the bag he carried.
He walked toward me, and his eyes swept over my body then returned to my face. "Good morning."
"Hi," I managed, feeling too shaky to say anything else. Not the after-effects of relief, but because I'd been wrong. I'd spent half my life with the guy and I could mistake someone else for him? I would never have thought that could have happened.
The guy passed me, flashing a smile as he did, and pressed the elevator button, and I made my way toward my makeshift office feeling like I'd borrowed the legs of someone a completely different size from me. They wouldn't move right.
I collapsed into my chair and cupped my shaking hands over my mouth. If seeing not-Alex messed me up this much, what was I going to do when I ran into him? I could hope I wouldn't, but he didn't work that far away, and probably still had meetings in his old building, so the odds were against me.
I took several long deep breaths, picturing Harrison's cute wildly furry face and imagining his purrs, until my body began to feel like it belonged to me again, then flipped open my laptop. Work would soothe me, or at least distract me.
It might have, but I'd barely logged in when Tina appeared at my door. "You're late for the meeting."
I grimaced. "I forgot all about it."
I got to my feet, and she said, "Hubba hubba! Nice skirt."
I tugged it down. "Too short?"
She smiled. "I think it's just right."
So did Gary, from the way his eyes widened as I entered the conference room.
I sat down as far from him as I could, pretending not to see he'd pushed out the chair next to him for me, and tried not to shudder. I did like being looked at, being admired, but not like this. Every man I'd seen today had been sizing me up for sex, and I hated it. If my inner teenager needed this skirt to make her appearance, then I wouldn't be seeing her.
I made it through the day and the stares on the subway, then changed into jeans and hung the skirt in the very back of my closet. So cute. So not for me.
Not every reversal is a good thing.
Chapter Fifteen
Though I knew I should, I didn't pick up the clarinet for days. It sat on the floor near the couch, and every time I walked by it I glanced at it then averted my eyes as if it had exposed itself. I didn't know why I couldn't bring myself to play, but I couldn't.
Then, after lunch on Thursday afternoon, the Canada Day holiday, which I was spending grumping around the apartment and picking the endless clumps of Harrison's fur off my clothes and resolutely avoiding the clarinet, I received an email.
Dear Andrea,
Thanks so much for your interest in joining the Ninja Star Players. We've been looking for another clarinet player forever and I'm thrilled you've decided to audition.
You're scheduled for next Friday, July ninth, at 7:30pm. Map is attached. If that's not good for you, please let me know right away. Be ready to play the piece I've attached to this email, and expect to do some sight-reading.
Please drop me a note to let me know you got this.
Thanks, and I look forward to meeting you on the ninth.
David, Ninja Star Players Music Director
I opened the music file with shaking fingers and studied the score. Presumably at some point I'd known how to play all those notes, but now they might as well have been written in Swahili. And sight-reading? I'd been bad at that at the best of times and now I couldn't imagine how I'd do it.
The music was from 'The Jungle Book', which was at least one point in my favor since I'd loved that movie. But would that be anywhere close to enough to get me through?
I doubted it. I'd just left it too long.
I sighed and began to send a reply of "sorry, I've changed my mind", but before I had it half-written I pulled my fingers away from the keyboard and sat staring at my screen. Without even trying? Maybe I had left it too long, but maybe not. And I'd never know unless I tried.
I had briefly considered a professional music career back in high school, before deciding Alex mattered more to me, but I didn't want one any more and couldn't get one even if I did. That I had certainly left too long. But this would have some of the same elements. Auditioning, meeting all the other musicians if I were accepted, being part of a group...
It was 'part of a group' that made me delete my response then type a quick "Got it, see you on the ninth" and send it off. I didn't feel like I belonged anywhere, and I wanted to.
Does anyone truly feel that they belong? Maybe not, but my lack of connection seemed especially strong at the moment. Back in high school, I'd always been the type to have one or two close friends and then a large group of acquaintances. Over time Alex had wound up being my only real close friend, and now I didn't have one at all, and almost no acquaintances other than at work. Monday's knit night had been fun, but I was the only crocheter there and some of the knitters kept a wary eye on me as if afraid I'd suddenly stab them with my hook. Maybe the musical theater group, everyone working toward making the show terrific, was the place for me.
Could I be a Ninja Star?
Despite the group's cheesy name, I hoped I could, so I printed the music sheet, and a clarinet fingering chart I found online to help me remember how to play, and opened the clarinet's case. Inside, I found a bunch of broken clarinet reeds but fortunately a few that looked intact. I also found a pencil, a pack of ancient chewing gum, and a silver bracelet set with three tiny diamonds.
I held the thin silver chain in my hand and had to blink back tears. I'd bought the bracelet on the European tour my high school band had taken in my last year, after saving for months to buy myself something special on that trip, and had been certain I'd lost it. Why I hadn't checked the clarinet case I couldn't remember, but finding it in there now felt like a sign, like a gift to myself, a confirmation I was on the right track.
Fastening the bracelet around my wrist, I fel
t my courage rising. What was the worst that could happen? I could bomb the audition and they wouldn't let me join. I'd survive that.
My first few notes bore little resemblance to anything musical, but I kept trying, playing quietly in case my neighbors could hear me through the apartment walls. Harrison didn't wake up, though, so they probably couldn't. I needed the fingering chart a lot at first but then the old skills started to come back, and I played until my lips and fingers were too tired to continue then cleaned the clarinet and gently tucked it away, promising it I'd play again tomorrow.
My whole day seemed brighter afterward. I'd felt miserable about being at home alone on Canada Day, on a day I would usually have been off at some cottage or other with Alex, but now I felt like I'd chosen to be here.
Which I had: Wendy had invited me to spend the day with her but I'd decided I'd prefer a relaxing day at home.
I'd chosen it, and then spent half the day whining to myself about it.
No more.
I didn't do anything more exciting for the rest of the day than I'd done in the morning, but my attitude made everything better. I gave Harrison a good brushing and gathered up his stray fur with amusement instead of annoyance, then we snuggled together while I howled with laughter at the movie "Airplane!" and crocheted my scarf. I did only and exactly what I wanted to do, and it felt like taking a long deep breath after weeks of tiny gasps.
I ordered pizza for dinner, and was delighted to see Bob, the original delivery guy.
"I'm doing all right," he said in response to my inquiry about his health. "Really makes you think, though."
"Definitely."
As I signed the credit card slip, I felt I had to say, "My boyfriend left me. A few weeks before your heart attack."
"Wondered why you weren't ordering," he said with sympathy. "You over him?"
I looked up. "You know what? Not quite yet. But I will be."
*****
"So you didn't go see any fireworks?"
I sipped my grapefruit juice and gave an involuntary shudder at the tartness. "This is one reversal that's not going to survive. Not a fan of this stuff. No, I didn't go anywhere, but I did see them. I sat on my balcony and watched them go off all over the city. I had a great day, actually."
Tina said, "Well, I'm glad you had fun. You'd have had more fun with me, though. That cottage Brent took me to was amazing."
Far from the half-hour fling Elaine had envisioned, Tina and her blond god Brent had been spending nearly every waking moment together. I hadn't found a way to tell her how annoyed I'd been by her abandoning me at the theater, but since she'd laughed so much about Elaine's anger over losing Brent I couldn't imagine she'd care much about my frustration either. I was coming to the conclusion that Tina thought about Tina first and foremost, and that as long as I remembered that we'd be fine as friends. "Cool. What did you do?"
"Lots of drinking, lots of games..." She nudged me. "And lots of stuff I won't tell you about because I don't want to make you jealous."
I laughed. "Thanks for sparing me. Oh, and thanks for trying to help at the meeting this morning."
Anna and Gary had booked a meeting that morning, unusual since the Monday meeting was now fully part of the routine and half the staff had taken today off too to make it an extra long weekend with yesterday's holiday. I'd wondered why, but once it started I'd only been wondering how I could get out of it.
They'd seemed strangely focused on me and what I'd done. They did ask the others for status updates, but they didn't grill them. When it was my turn, though, they both studied me like they were investigating some strange new species and didn't quite know what to expect from it, and they'd asked me endless questions about who I'd followed up with from the conference and where everything stood.
I'd answered, increasingly bewildered, until Tina said, "Andrea obviously has everything under control," then grinned and added, "So stop stressing her out."
"I'm not stressed," I'd said at once, but Anna had given me a strained smile and said, "Well, I'm glad to hear you say that. And it does sound like you've got things under control."
I was sure Tina had meant to help but making me seem stressed, especially after I'd essentially gone insane over Alex's departure, wouldn't make Anna and Gary feel confident about sending me to the conference in October.
Tina smiled. "Any time. They've been weird lately, haven't they?"
I nodded. "Like they're extra tense."
"Making us go through all the files and recheck everything? Have they ever done that before?"
"Nope. And I hope they never do again. It's completely unnecessary. We've always operated by doing our own thing and then getting one coworker to check it out, and we've never had any trouble. I don't know what's possessed them lately."
"And today they were extra strange. It was like..."
"Like what?"
"Well, like they don't trust you. But of course they do. Why wouldn't they?"
I sighed. "I did kind of fall apart after Alex left."
"Well, of course you did. Who wouldn't? But you're fine now, right? Everything's back to normal."
"Whatever that means."
She tipped her head to one side. "What does that mean?"
"I still think about him a lot," I confessed. "I'm trying so hard not to but I can't help it. I know he's gone, and I'm getting more okay with that, but still... when I headed off for the last conference everything was fine with us, as far as I knew anyhow, and when I came back we'd fallen apart. It'll feel weird going to the next one knowing we're already apart."
She grimaced. "I can understand that. Maybe you shouldn't go?"
I shook my head. "I want to. I love them. And I know I'll be okay once I'm there."
I expected her to nod encouragingly but she reversed it on me. "But what if you're not okay? Would be bad for the company, right?"
I sat up straighter in my chair and took a deep breath to give myself time to think through my response so I wouldn't blurt out the first furious thing in my mind. Then I said, "That sounds like you don't think I can handle it. Is that what you're trying to say?"
She flushed. "No, not at all. How would I know anyhow? I'm sorry, I didn't mean it the way it came out."
"Apology accepted. Thanks."
"You're welcome." She rubbed her cheeks. "Is it hot in here or is it just me?"
I laughed. "Don't worry about it. Everyone says dumb things at times."
She rolled her eyes. "But I do it more than most. Listen to this."
And she was off, on a story of how she'd drunk way too much at the cottage and then told Brent's cousin she wanted a threesome with him and Brent.
I barely listened, too busy thinking about Anna and Gary's questioning. Were they also doubting my abilities? I'd have to step up my game. I didn't want to give them any reason to think they should replace me for the conferences.
Especially since the person they could easily use to replace me was already on staff, sitting across from me blathering on about threesomes.
Chapter Sixteen
My hands were shaking so hard I could barely hold my clarinet. I'd been fine while warming up, had even enjoyed the random sounds of at least fifteen people playing different songs at once. But once David called for silence and had us all sit in a row in the main rehearsal hall until he called us into a smaller room to audition, I'd started to panic.
For fourteen years, music had been Alex's thing not mine. I was deliberately pushing myself into an arena we'd agreed was his, and while I knew I had every right to do so, had indeed always had the right to do so, it still felt strange and wrong.
Person after person auditioned then came back and got their stuff, some looking happy and some determinedly neutral and one in tears, and I sat trying to take deep breaths but finding them choked off by my terror. When I realized only two people were left before me, all I wanted to do was flee, so though it was almost unbearable to stay sitting still I made myself reverse it and keep my butt glued
to the chair.
I couldn't sit in silence any longer, though, so I turned to, turned on really, the girl sitting next to me. "Are you freaking out?" I demanded. "I'm freaking out."
She blinked and leaned back away from me, drawing her flute out of the reach of the crazy clarinet player. "I'm nervous, yeah. But I don't think I'm freaking out."
I nodded as if that had helped. "I'm glad for you. I wish I could just be nervous."
"Take more deep breaths," someone said, and I looked to the side to see a blond guy leaning casually against the wall, a clarinet tattooed on his bare forearm. He smiled. "It'll help."
"Thanks," I mumbled. I did keep trying, and it helped a bit, but when the next person was called my heart rate went up still higher, and when the flute player went I honestly thought I'd either cry or puke. Or both.
I had to reverse this. I wouldn't be able to play at all in my current state, and the hours I'd put into learning my audition piece and sight-reading everything I could find online would be wasted. If I didn't make it, fine, but I didn't want to cut myself from the show before David had the chance.
How to reverse panic?
Among the many downsides of terror is the number it does on your mental faculties. I couldn't think of anything to calm myself down, couldn't remember anything I'd read or seen. Then I noticed a strand of orange fur on my jeans.
Harrison. Playing with his toys. Eating his food by knocking each individual piece of kibble out of his bowl onto the floor then picking it up with his mouth. Chewing my yarn and blinking innocently at me when I told him to stop. Drifting off to sleep in my lap. Hogging my pillow. I took deep breaths and watched the cat in my mind. Goofy, furry, and adorable. Nothing to worry about. Watching the cat.
Toronto Collection Volume 1 (Toronto Series #1-5) Page 109