Christmas All Around Us ; The Perfect Time for Love ; Playing for Keeps

by Carla Kincaid

  "I may not be coming back to Oklahoma when the summer is over," she continued to explain to her mother.

  There was a boldness in Megan's voice that almost made Stacey giggle.

  "What are you talking about, Megan? I'm sure Kim likes having you around but once the baby comes she won't have time to run around shopping and sightseeing all day."

  Megan looked at Kim and her sister gave her an encouraging nod.

  "If I stay in New York I won't be spending my time shopping," she said curtly. "I'll be studying piano with the New York Philharmonic."

  "What on earth are you talking about Megan Green? Staying -- in New York? The Philharmonic?" Mrs. Collins shook her head vigorously. "What kind of ridiculousness are you talking about?"

  Megan sat up straighter in her chair. "I didn't come to New York this summer to spend time with Kim. I came to audition for the Sero Institute. If I'm accepted into the program, I'll be staying here."

  "Oh, really, Megan. Not this again. I thought you'd outgrown the silly dream of being a professional musician. You have a good job now and in a few years you could be promoted to head of the music program for the entire school. Why would you throw that away?"

  The table fell silent.

  "I'm not throwing anything away, Mother. I'm following my heart. Just like my father did."

  Stacey watched Mrs. Collins' lips tighten into a straight line. "Megan, this isn't the time or place to have that conversation but I'll tell you one thing, it takes much more than the ability to tinkle around on an instrument to make a living. Your father rarely had two dimes to his name but all that nonsense your grandmother filled his head with had him out there believing he'd be the next Miles Davis." Mrs. Collins scoffed and rolled her eyes.

  That was it. Stacey had heard enough. She'd kept her silence through six courses with out saying a word but this was it. "Dr. and Mrs. Collins, I've heard your daughter play and she's good. Really good."

  "Don't waste your breath, Stacey," Megan said softly. "I've been putting up with this my whole life. My mother isn't going to ever believe in me and I'm finally over waiting for that to change!"

  With that, Megan got up from her chair and stormed out of the restaurant with Stacey following closely on her heels.

  Chapter 12

  The summer heat jarred Megan's senses as she walked out of the air-conditioned building but in spite of the abrupt change in temperature, she still couldn't stand still. She wanted to runaway, but instead she paced up and down the sidewalk as if her mother's presence inside was keeping her tethered to the building with an invisible leash. Megan had managed to fray the cord with her outburst but severing it completely was an entirely different matter.

  "Should we call a rideshare?" Stacey asked tentatively.

  The question caused Megan to pause her military march. Finally still, her thoughts caught up with her body and she let out a long sigh.

  "Too expensive," Megan said even though the cool of a car would have been welcomed.

  "Okay. There's a subway station a few blocks from here."

  Stacey nodded in the direction of the train and Megan fell into step beside her.

  The two women walked silently for a while -- the distance between them indicative of their still new friendship. The sidewalks around them were crowded with pedestrians so every so often they had to step even further a part to let someone pass between them.

  "I'm sorry if I over stepped my boundaries," Stacey said as they waited for the light to change at a corner. "It's just... Well, I guess it's just hard for me to see someone so nice being picked on like that."

  Megan turned to look at Stacey. "I appreciate what you said to my parents. I know they probably didn't hear it but I did." Megan reached over and squeezed Stacey's hand before the moving crowd pushed them forward.

  When they got on the train, Megan collapsed into a seat exhausted as the emotion-sparked adrenaline coursing through her veins finally dissipated. They road in silence, bodies swaying with the movement of the subway car. As the train sped through the tunnels, Megan watched the light flickering into the train window making it feel like she was both watching a movie and in one at the same time. When the train stopped at the next station a rather scruffy looking man got on and asked for the passengers' attention.

  "Good Afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen!"

  Megan was still getting used to the impromptu performances that took place on New York subway trains. Most of the time she looked away or locked her eyes on her cellphone unable to make sense of a place where it was normal for people to break into song and dance in the aisle of crowded public transportation. But since this time she wasn't on the train alone, she felt a little more comfortable observing the performance.

  "My name is Randolph T. Henderson," the man continued, taking off his cap and tossing it to the floor in front of him.

  He obviously knew the express train wasn't going to make a stop for a while, because he untethered a small stool dangling from a harness over his shoulder and sat down.

  "I'd like to play a little something for you if you don't mind."

  Randolph reached into the recesses of his coat and pulled out a small portable keyboard that he expertly balanced on his knees. Megan remembered playing around with a tiny keyboard just like that when she was in elementary school. Randolph must have had speakers attached to the lining of his coat because he pulled out some cables and plugged them into the instrument. When he tapped the keys, music filled the subway car. It didn't sound as rich or full as a real piano but for this free concert it was more than adequate.

  Megan stared as Randolph began to play Beethoven's Moon Light Sonata. Everyone in the car sat silently -- transfixed by the sound coming from the man hunched over the keyboard. A minute into the serenade Megan almost forgot she was on the subway. Her breathing slowed to match the tempo of Randolph's serenade and she allowed herself to be fully present in the moment.

  When Randolph finished playing, a few members of his captive audience applauded and tossed some money into the hat at his feet. The rest went back to staring at their cell phones or other reading material. When the train pulled into the next station, Randolph -- with a well choreographed quickness -- tucked his keyboard away, slung his stool back over his shoulder and slipped through the sliding doors as soon as they opened. Megan watched as he sauntered across the platform and boarded the train heading in the opposite direction. She silently wondered how many times in a day Randolph made the express train trip between the two stations. How many passengers bore witness to his obvious skills and more than obvious misfortune?

  "Are you okay," Stacey asked.

  It wasn't until Megan looked over at Stacey's blurred image that she realized she was crying. She reached up and wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand but the river of tears wouldn't stop flowing.

  "What if that's me in the future," Megan cried out softly.

  As the train moved forward all Megan could think about was how well Randolph played -- even under these less than ideal circumstances. He was good. He was better than good but where had it gotten him? Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she was wasting her life away with this pipe dream of becoming a concert pianist. Megan felt her heart beginning to race as panic set in.

  "Breathe!" Stacey commanded forcefully but quietly enough not to draw attention on the still crowded train. "Breathe, Megan."

  She squeezed Megan's hand until Megan turned to look her in the eyes. Stacey pantomimed taking a deep inhale and gestured for Megan to imitate her breathing. After several inhalations and exhalations, Megan felt her self calming down.

  "You have no idea what happen in that man's life to bring him to this place," Stacey whispered. "Things happen to people that derail their plans. I see it all the time. Do you know how many times I've gotten onto a train and heard someone reciting Shakespearean monologues so perfectly that I just knew they belonged on stage? People who clearly haven't had a bath or a good meal in a while. It's frightening but you can'
t let it stop you. Your life isn't theirs!"

  Megan nodded robotically trying to take Stacey's words to heart. When they got off the train they remained in a comfortable silence but unlike their walk to the station, on their walk home they now strolled close enough to each other that no one mistakenly tried to pass between them.

  "Do you want to come in for some tea?" Megan asked.

  The last thing she wanted right now was to be alone. Somewhere in the back of her mind she kept wondering if her mother was going to come banging on her door and try to force her to come back to Oklahoma with her and her stepfather.

  "Sure," Stacey said as she reached into her coat jacket and handed Megan the keys she'd been holding since they left the apartment for dinner.

  "You must think I'm ridiculous," Megan said taking the keys. "First I have you pretend to be living in my apartment. Then I make a scene in a restaurant and finally I have a total meltdown on a subway train."

  "It wasn't a total meltdown," Stacey said with a laugh. She lifted her hand and held her thumb and index finger about an inch apart. "Only about this much."

  Stacey's casual attitude about the situation made Megan relax. "Thanks," she said giggling. "Make yourself comfortable. I'm gonna put the water on for the tea."

  From the kitchen Megan could still see Stacey sitting on the small sofa. She was thumbing through some albums propped next to Megan's portable record player.

  "Wow!" Stacey exclaimed as Megan walked back into the room carrying a selection of tea bags on a small tray. "I don't think I know anyone who actually owns albums." She carefully put the record she was holding away and peered down at the tea bags. "Ooo, peppermint! My fav!" she said as she reached for the packet. "Hey, I think I have some cookies upstairs. Should I go get them?"

  "Yeah. That would be great," Megan replied feeling a pang of guilt over making she and Stacey miss out on the delicious sounding desserts on the Per Se menu.

  "You mind if I go up the back way?" Stacey asked. "I'd rather not walk back into that furnace outside."

  "Sure," Megan said hoping her bedroom wasn't too much of a disaster. She'd changed clothes at least ten times trying to decide what to wear to dinner with her parents.

  Megan lead Stacey down the hallway relieved that the light in her bedroom was too dim to see how messy it really was. She'd covered the lamp shade in the corner with a thin red scarf and the muted color projected on the walls gave the room a soft, warm glow.

  "Nice," Stacey commented as she walked into the room.

  Megan didn't know if it was her imagination or simply her desires clouding the air -- but there was something kind of sensual in Stacey's tone.

  "I'll be right back," Stacey said as she walked up to the back door and unlocked it as if she'd done that a thousand times -- which Megan realized she probably had when Tony lived there.

  Megan didn't know if she should wait in the bedroom for Stacey to return or go back up front. Something about being in a bedroom with Stacey -- even for a moment -- was making Megan's temperature rise as if she was still standing outside in the summer heat. The sound of the tea kettle settled the internal debate and Megan rushed back down the hall to the kitchen to stop the shrill noise.

  She was searching the cabinet for some honey when she heard the bedroom door open and then close. A moment later Stacey joined her in the kitchen.

  "I hope you like chocolate," she said stretching out an open bag of Milano cookies.

  "Oh! I love those!" Megan said enthusiastically. "But I can't keep them in the house. I'd eat the whole bag in one sitting. How do you eat cookies and stay so thin?"

  "To be honest, it's my part time gig," Stacey answered as she sat down on the couch next to Megan. "All the walking around serving people keeps the pounds off."

  Stacey patted her flat stomach and Megan found her mind wandering back to the thoughts she was having in the bedroom.

  "Sounds like the perfect gig," Megan said pushing away the intimate thoughts and keeping her focus on the topic at hand. "But unfortunately I'm too clumsy to do something like being a cater-waiter. No doubt, I'd end up spilling food all over some rich woman's expensive clothes."

  Stacey laughed and Megan smiled at how relaxed and comfortable she felt in her presence. For a few minutes the two of them sat quietly enjoying the tea and cookies. Then Megan's cellphone rang. The sound startled her. She hoped it wasn't her mother calling to continue the fight that started in the restaurant.

  Megan reached over and picked up her cell phone. Kim's name flashed across the screen.

  "Hey! Are you okay?" her sister asked when she answered the call.

  "Yeah. I'm fine. I just had to get out of there. I'm back at my place. Is dinner over?"

  "Yeah. We finally made it through the last course," Kim said sounding as stuffed as she must feel. "I snuck off to the bathroom while James was paying the bill."

  Kim paused on the other end of the line then said, "Megan, Mom is furious with you."

  Megan shrugged. Nothing surprising there.

  "And..."

  Megan heard her sister take a deep breath.

  "I had to tell her you weren't staying at my house."

  "Kim!" Megan erupted.

  "I know. I'm sorry. But when you left she started grilling me about why you were so upset and what you had been doing since you'd been here. I broke under the pressure."

  Megan was annoyed but she couldn't really be mad at her sister. "It's okay. It's probably better that they know the whole truth anyway. I'll give Mom a call tomorrow."

  "Okay," Kim said softly. "Sorry again."

  Megan hung up the phone and picked up her tea and took a sip. The peppermint made her tongue tingle.

  "So the cat's out of the bag, huh?" Stacey asked.

  "Yep. Now I guess I have to come clean about everything."

  "Megan, I know it must be really hard not having your parent's support but please don't let that keep you from following your dreams. I'm mean, you've already made it through the semi-finals. Just one more round and you'll be on your way!"

  The image of Randolph T. Henderson flashed through Megan's mind. She'd never forget his face -- or the way he made that cheap little keyboard sound so wonderful. Maybe seeing him was the universe's way of warning her to stop this foolishness?

  "Megan," Stacey said interrupting Megan's thoughts.

  She looked up into her neighbor's eyes.

  "Will you play something for me?" Stacey asked.

  Megan frowned and shook her head. "I don't really feel like playing right now."

  Stacey got up from her seat and stretched out her hand.

  "Come on. Please. I'd like to hear you play."

  Megan shook her head. "You've heard me play, Stacey. Everyday."

  "That doesn't count. I want to experience it in person. And don't tell me I heard you play during my audition. That wasn't your kind of music. Please," Stacey said softly.

  Megan knew she'd probably feel better if she sat down at the piano. But she also knew she might start crying again if she did. All the tension she was holding inside was liable to spill out once she tapped into her favorite stress relieving activity. She looked up at Stacey prepared to say no again but the woman had the same determined look on her face that she wore the first time Megan laid eyes on her.

  "Okay. But only because I made you miss dessert at Per Se."

  A big smile spread across Stacey's face. That sight alone made Megan feel a little better. She got up and walked over to the piano. When she glanced over her shoulder, Stacey was sitting attentively on the edge of her seat.