by Dianne Drake
“And take pictures?” Leanne asked.
“Of course.” The woman turned and headed into the studio, leaving Caleb and Leanne to follow.
“He looks so small at that piano,” Leanne said, in almost a whisper, as they entered the studio. “And serious.” Aiming the camera, she took a couple of pictures from the back of the room, then simply stood back and watched him for a minute. He was so like Caleb was, and it stirred an unexpected emotion in her. Pride. Even though Matthew wasn’t hers, she had so much pride in him her heart was swelling with it.
“You can go talk to him,” the blonde woman said, interrupting Leanna’s thoughts. “He doesn’t seem nervous, but most children like to have a little reassurance from their parents before this part of the interview commences.”
“Thank you,” Leanne said, giving Caleb a nudge forward. “You go down there. I’ll stay here and get a picture of it.”
“If my legs will carry me that far,” he said, as nervous sweat started to break out on his forehead.
“You’re not going to hyperventilate, are you?” she whispered to him.
“If I do, it’s a good thing I brought a doctor along with me, isn’t it?”
Leanne laughed. “Go talk to him, Caleb. He may appear unfazed, but he’s only five and he needs your support.” Before she left the observation area, she stretched up on tiptoe and brushed his lips lightly with a kiss. A kiss that, oddly, tingled on her lips. And one that she repeated, for a second or two longer than the first.
He looked stunned at first. Looked as taken aback as she felt. But his expression gave way quickly to a smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t...” she began, but stopped. Now wasn’t the time to try explaining this, or even wonder why she’d done it, because she didn’t know. Caleb had looked vulnerable and she supposed she had been responding to that. But she wasn’t sure. “For luck,” she finally conceded, then walked away before he had the chance to see the red flush creeping its way up her neck.
“Thank you,” he called after her, as she headed up to the observation booth while he headed down to the stage.
She ignored that, however. Just kept on walking until she was at the top of the bowl-shaped performance area, and safely tucked away in the observation booth. Leaning against the wall. Eyes shut. Breathing hard from embarrassment or distress or whatever else was bothering her about giving him a stupid little kiss.
* * *
Caleb spent the next two minutes talking to Matthew, who didn’t seem daunted by anything going on, even though he himself was daunted by that kiss. It was probably just as Leanne had said...for luck. But what if it wasn’t? And why was it more on his mind right now than Matthew’s audition? Because she’d never kissed him before, that’s why. Not even in those few years when they’d been childhood friends. And there’d been so many times when he’d wanted that kiss and had known he’d never get it.
Well, he’d got it now, and it was distracting him at a time when everything he wanted for his son was walking through the door and taking a seat, getting ready to pass judgment. “Look, Matthew,” Caleb whispered in the boy’s ear, shaking himself back into the moment, “You know you can do this. Leanne and I will be up there...” He pointed to the glassed off section at the top of the room. “So, if anything...” He stopped, regrouped, then took a deep breath. “I love you,” he said. “And I’m proud of you.” Then retreated to the observation room to have a silent breakdown.
On his way up the stairs, Caleb nodded at Schilling, finally allowing himself a good look at the man. Aged well into his seventies, with long gray-white hair and impeccable navy blue suit, he sported an ascot. Red paisley print. Very proper old-world man, Caleb decided, then smiled and relaxed when Matthew giggled at something Schilling whispered to him.
“This is going to work,” he said, scooting back to the edge of his chair in the observation room, his relaxation short-lived as he watched Matthew squirm his way into position on the piano bench.
“Matthew looks like you did when you were that age,” Leanne said.
“Does he?”
“You were always so serious, like you had an agenda with the world. Even when we played, you were always focused on something else. Something I couldn’t see, or didn’t understand. Like Matthew is always so focused.”
“And ostracized for it,” he said flatly.
“You weren’t,” she said. “Not that I remember. I think people were a little afraid of you because you were so smart, but I liked you. Liked listening to you, even though I didn’t understand half of what you were telling me.”
And she’d liked ridiculing him when they got older.
How could her memories be so different from his?
This was turning into a trust issue. He wanted to, thought he did, but there was this unsettled little part of him that still warned him to be wary. “Well, Matthew’s a whole lot smarter than I was, and he’s certainly more talented. I think when I was five my only talent was making mud pies.”
“My dad said you used to drag home stray animals, that you had your own little zoo going. And you’d care for those animals. Pretend to be their doctor. He said you were actually pretty talented at discovering some simple illnesses, even at that age.”
So, she was talking to her dad about him? Yet forgetting, or pretending to forget, how things had really been? Nope, none of this was making sense to him and he wondered if Leanne was still living in a fairy-princess world where she could have things her way simply because she wanted them to be? “Haven’t had a pet since I left Marrell. If we stay here, I might get Matthew a puppy. He keeps telling me he wants one, and I think it will be good for him.”
“I’ve never had a pet. My dad didn’t have time to take care of one, and I wasn’t responsible enough.” She chuckled. “In fact, Dad told me I wasn’t responsible about a lot of things when I was young. He said it used to worry him.”
And she was sitting next to the living proof of her irresponsibility. Not remembering, or not caring enough to remember. Or maybe it had been so common with her—a second nature that he always excused because of his other feelings—that it just floated right on past her? “I remember some of that,” he said, as the lights dimmed in the studio, and the observation room speakers were turned on so they could hear what was going on.
Leanne leaned over and took hold of his hand. And he didn’t resist her. Didn’t shove her away. In fact, he was glad of her comfort. Wasn’t sure he liked being glad of it, but he was, nonetheless.
“Mr. Carsten,” Hans Schilling said, addressing Matthew. “I see, by your application, I’m going to hear to hear Chopin’s Fantaisie-Impromptu, Opus 66. But, Matthew, because I know your hands are still too small to accomplish this piece as it should be played, I’d like you to commence at the key change, beginning with the moderato cantabile, going through the next key change so I can assess how you handle the faster passages, ending just after the sempre crescendo just before you get to the forte chord. Do you understand where that is in the score?”
“Yes, sir,” Matthew said, his voice confident and strong.
“Then, please, begin anytime you’re ready.”
In the observation booth, Caleb sucked in a deep breath and held it, and didn’t let it go until Matthew played his first note, which seemed an eternity. In slow motion. Then it all went by in a blur. Caleb recognized the music, but he was more intent on watching Schilling for a reaction. So, he focused on the maestro, and the music flowed on, perfectly as far as he could tell. And Leanne’s hold on his hand turned into a harder squeeze, getting harder and harder as the audition progressed. Still, he kept his eyes on Schilling, who gave nothing away. Then suddenly the music stopped, Leanne’s squeeze on his hand let up, Matthew stepped away from the piano bench and took a bow to the single applauding member of the audience. It was over. All those months of work and this was it. Caleb didn’t know whether to stand up and ch
eer or melt into a nervous breakdown on the floor.
He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, slumped back in his seat, and finally allowed himself to breathe. Then looked over and smiled at Leanne, who was slumped back much the way he was.
“He’s stunning,” she whispered, wiping tears from her eyes. “I never expected... Caleb, I can’t even tell you how wonderful he is.”
Caleb nodded, fighting back his own tears. “He is,” he whispered in return.
“Now, Mr. Carsten, referring to your repertoire list, I see that you have listed Mozart’s Piano Sonata No. 16 in C Major, K. 545. Do you have that committed to memory?”
“I commit everything to memory, sir,” Matthew answered, not in the least shy.
“Please, then, start at the beginning and play until I tell you to stop.”
“He hasn’t practiced that one for the audition,” Caleb said, sucking in another sharp breath and scooting back to the edge of his seat. “Why would Schilling do that to him?”
“He’ll be fine,” Leanne said, scooting to the edge of her own seat again and taking hold of Caleb’s hand once more, like it was the natural thing to do between them now. “And maybe Schilling’s doing that because he’s so impressed he wants to see the full of extent of Matthew’s talent.”
“It’s killing me. Just killing me. And look at my son. He’s calm. How can he be that calm, Leanne?”
She laughed. “You’re just being a typical parent, Caleb. But don’t worry about Matthew. Do you see his face? This is the world where he belongs.”
Caleb nodded, but nothing alleviated his nerves as Matthew’s melodious strains started to fill the studio. Surprisingly, Schilling listened to the entire first movement of the Mozart, rather than cutting it off. Then asked Matthew to perform another off his repertoire list, a Bach Two-part Invention. When the audition was over, Matthew hopped off the bench, took his bow, then asked Schilling for a drink of water.
“Through those doors at the rear,” Schilling said, turning to the observation booth and gesturing for Caleb to join him. “The woman outside, Miss Dobson, will give you a drink. We also have lemonade and milk, if you’d prefer.”
“Lemonade has sugar, which is not good for you, unless it’s in moderation.” He grinned at the use of his new word. “And I don’t like milk so much.”
“But our water here is very good. Healthy. Lots of beneficial minerals.” Schilling laughed. “Make sure you tell Miss Dobson you want the healthy water.”
Matthew nodded, then skipped out of the studio as Caleb and Leanne entered. “You know Dr. Sinclair,” Caleb said, taking hold of Leanne’s arm and leading her toward the front of the studio.
“Ah, yes. We met briefly just the other day. I’m assuming she’ll be my new doctor, now that her father is retiring. And, I hope, the doctor who replaces her father as the school doctor.”
Leanne shook her head. “That won’t be me, but I think Dr. Carsten here can be persuaded.”
“Very good,” Schilling said, extending a hand to Caleb. “Now, about Matthew...” Schilling’s warm smile grew wider. “The audition went well. Much better than I anticipated. And I love his intellect. He reminds me of myself when I was his age. Too intelligent, and very gifted, without the proper instruction on how to deal with it. My parents tried, but I was...different. And that can be quite a burden for someone so young, which is why I created the school: to start children like Matthew off in a direction that better suits their capabilities. And educate their parents on how to handle such a special child. So, if everything else in this interview goes as I anticipate it will, I think Matthew will be a nice addition to our family, even though he’s a bit younger than I’m used to training.”
Caleb was so relieved to hear the news he didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry. “I haven’t been able to find the best teachers for him. He can be...intimidating, and I think he scares a lot of people because he does get a kick out of trying to present himself as knowing more than they do.”
Schilling laughed. “Little tykes like that, especially ones with an attitude, don’t intimidate me, no matter how good they are at the piano, and no matter how intelligent they are. In fact, it’s my goal to intimidate them a little. Keeps them humble.”
“He’ll have time here to be just a regular little boy, won’t he?” Leanne asked.
“Mandatory. Children like Matthew can get so wrapped up in their pursuits they lose their childhood, so I strive to make everything here as normal as I can, to teach these kids they must live in the world, and not separate from it. Accordingly, we have television, movies, video games, outdoor activities. Horses. Like I said, I grew up like Matthew—sheltered as a prodigy and a genius, and it’s not a life any child should have, which is why we work for as much normalcy as we can get. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to prepare for the interview portion of this, and if you two would like, please have a look around the property. Everything is open for your inspection.” Then he exited the studio through the side door, leaving Caleb and Leanne standing there, Caleb simply staring into space while Leanne snapped photos.
“I think he’s in,” Caleb finally said.
“Was there ever any doubt?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure.” He took hold of her arm and led her to the back door. “Anyway, care to take a walk with me?”
“If we could go outside so I can take some pictures. I want to make sure he gets this full day journaled, and that includes the riding stable out back.”
“You two seem to share the same photographic interest,” Caleb commented.
“I’d forgotten how much I loved it. When I was a child, my dad would let me wander around by myself a lot of the time because he was too busy to go with me. And I’d always take my camera because, with it, it wasn’t so lonely being by myself. I always had it as a distraction to keep my mind off how I was really feeling. But then I grew up and...” She shrugged. “You know how it is. Other interests take over.”
In Leanne’s case, her other interests had turned quite social. She’d been the popular girl in school, the one every other girl wanted as a friend, and every boy wanted to date. She’d known it, and had taken full advantage of it. But today wasn’t the day to dwell on all that. It was Matthew’s day, and Matthew was his focus. “Outside sounds perfect. Especially the stables. Matthew’s been telling me he wants to learn to ride.”
Leanne pointed the camera at his face and snapped. “That one’s going to be titled ‘Dad with Concerned Look.’”
Smiling, she spun around and flounced to the front door while Caleb held back and watched her. Caution and all, she was certainly hard to resist. Always had been.
* * *
“He’s sleeping,” Caleb said, closing the bedroom door behind him. The three of them had spent the entire day together. First the audition. Then ice cream. After that, Matthew had insisted on taking photos of Stiller’s Well, a sizable sinkhole, fenced off for safety’s sake, about twenty miles outside town. The trip out there took nearly two hours, as Matthew was so keyed up he wanted to stop every hundred feet for a photo. And the trip back took nearly as long, as Leanne asked to stop at an old trading post, where she bought herself a brand-new camera, zoom lenses, filters, tripods and other accessories.
Overall, it had been a nice day, other than his case of audition jitters, and he was pleased that Leanne was forging quite a bond with his son. It worried him, though, because he didn’t want Matthew getting too attached to someone who’d already made it perfectly clear she wasn’t staying. He’d sailed through his mother’s abandonment like a little trouper, but he’d been only two, and the full impact of it might not have sunk in. But getting attached to Leanne, like he clearly was, and her leaving him...
“I think the day just wore him out. Normally, he’s not in bed for a couple more hours.”
Leanne sat on Caleb’s butter-
soft leather couch, shut her eyes and leaned her head back. “He gets tired easily because he’s only five, Caleb. Sometimes I think you forget that.”
“I do, because he’s so...old.”
“He’s also barely more than a baby.”
Caleb crossed the room and sprawled out in the chair across from Leanne rather than plopping down next to her. “I appreciate you being there. It could have turned into a long, difficult day for me, just sitting around, biting my nails and waiting for Matthew to get through his interviews.”
“Well, one of the perks of owning the hospital is that I can schedule myself in and out any way I need to so long as everything’s covered.”
“So, what are you going to do, Leanne? Have you given it any thought?”
She shook her head. “Nothing solid after I leave here. Since my plans with Eric fell through—”
“Hard and ugly,” he interrupted. “I’m sorry about that. And I’m also sorry for the things I said to you that day. I was wrong, and you didn’t deserve it.”
“Apology accepted. And, overall, the breakup could have been worse. I might have actually planned my life around him. Instead, I was still in the planning on planning my life around him stage. Really messed up, huh?”
“Well, then, I’m sorry your life is so messed up.”
“Messed up and transitional.” She grimaced. “Sounds pretty bad, doesn’t it?”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I know how you feel. Been there myself.”
“So, you know the end of the story? Please tell me you do.” She smiled at him. “Please tell me how it turns out.”
Caleb chuckled. “Wish I could. But I haven’t reached the end yet, and I don’t have a clue what it’s going to be. As for you, I suppose your ending can actually turn into a beginning.”
“That sounds interesting, especially since I’m wondering if I can even go back and work in the same hospital with him. And since I know he’s not going anywhere...guess that leaves me in a me or him kind of a situation, doesn’t it?”