Chapter 3

Hae-Won Park is, of course, Korean-American. She was born in the U.S. of immigrants and grew up living over the Korean restaurant owned and operated jointly by her parents and her uncle. As is usually the case with asian families, they were very close and very focused on being successful in their new home. Within ten years of their arrival, their business had grown from not much more than a tiny shop with a few mismatched tables and chairs to one of the most popular eating spots around, primarily due to her father's wizardry in the kitchen and her mothers iron rule in all things financial.

Like most parents, the Parks pushed their only child to be as successful as she could be. It was obvious from infancy that Hae-Won was very bright and that she seemed to have a love for music so beginning at the age of four, she was introduced to several different instruments until she settled on the cello. From that point on, it was practice, practice, practice. Beginning with a pint-size cello, she practiced three to four hours daily and it paid off as she took first prize in every competition she entered from the age of twelve when she began playing a standard size instrument. It was incredibly hard work but she seemed to thrive on it. Even though she didn't graduate at the top of her class at the academy, she was very near the top and no one could dispute her technical skill.

But Hae-Won eventually grew to understand something her parents and her instructors didn't and that was that what success she'd earned came from hard work and not because she was a child prodigy. Oh, there was no question that she was very good; she could learn to play any piece she set her mind to but while it might be technically perfect, it wasn't what she heard in the playing of the really great artists. She knew - rather, she sensed that she didn't have that extra something that separates the very good from the true artists. Somewhere in her teens, she realized that she would never have a career as a solo cellist, that she would always be an orchestra cellist and a teacher and after a couple of years of agonizing over it, she grew to accept it.

She also knew that Curtis did have that something extra. She nearly wept when she heard the Glass piece coming through the vent and she realized her new upstairs neighbor was special. Judging from his demeanor at the auditions, she was sure he was more special than even he knew. When he played her original composition, somehow he put more life and power into it than she ever could have and that was on the first sight reading. From that moment, she was hoping he was as good a person as he was a musician because she was smitten.

When he asked her out to dinner, she nearly jumped at it immediately but she'd been brought up to be cautious in her choice of friends and even more cautious in her choice of potential lovers and that conservative upbringing served as an effective damper between her and her compulsions.

All through that afternoon at the academy as she patiently coached one student after another, she struggled to keep her mind on her work. As most of them managed to crucify otherwise sublime music, her mind kept drifting back to Curtis and his invitation to dinner. She was kicking herself for not accepting even though she knew it was the proper thing to do. She prayed that he wouldn't be discouraged, that he would ask her again. Soon.

On her way home that evening, her mind struggled to come up with some pretense to knock on his door but everything she thought of sounded silly, inane. She finally decided to hold on to her self-respect and just let time do its thing and take them where it would.

Judging from the silence above her when she got home, he probably wasn't in anyway and she guessed he was working at the restaurant. She heard him climbing the stairs about 9:30 and was tempted to go knock on his door but she restrained herself. Patience, she cautioned herself, if it is to be, it will be.

Following her normal routine, Hae-Won brushed her teeth, brushed her long, beautiful, ebony hair and crawled into bed a little after ten. Just as she was drifting off to sleep, the beautiful strains of Saint-Saëns' 'The Swan' came drifting through the vent. When it finished, she heard "Good night, Hae-Won."

Their schedules for the rest of the week never seemed to match up as far as accidental meetings and he hadn't serenaded her to sleep at bedtime again because he was getting in as many hours as he could at the restaurant, often not getting home until after midnight. She didn't see him again until he showed up at the first rehearsal.

For the first concert, Maestro Falcone chose two of Bach's Brandenburg Concertos plus two Mozart pieces, Symphony number 39 and Eine Kleine Nachtmusik. The first rehearsal session sounded good and everyone knew it was going to be a successful opening night. Curtis sat right next to Hae-Won in the orchestra and she was impressed with how quickly and how well he adapted to the Maestro's direction. Every note and every nuance was right on the money.

The more she heard him play, the more she couldn't imagine how she had come out on top at last year's auditions. After rehearsal, Hae-Won followed Jana Falcone to her office and asked her about it.

Maestro Falcone raised her eyebrows at the question and said, "Close the door." She considered her words carefully before she said, "Like you, I heard something in Curtis' playing that was extraordinary. Had you not been in competition last year, he would have definitely been chosen. The thing is, what I saw and heard in your playing is exactly what any conductor wants in a musician; superb technical skill and the ability to follow directions. I don't know how long Curtis will be with us before he strikes out on his own or gets a better offer and while I'm thrilled he's going to be with us for a while, musicians like you are the mainstay of a good orchestra. You were just too good to pass up."

"I guess I see your point. Thank you Ma'am, I was just curious."

The Maestro feared Hae-Won might begin to question her own ability and added, "I hope you appreciate how good you really are. It's just that very few of us are born with whatever gene nudges us into the genius category. I was the same way. I had hopes of a career as a concert pianist but I just couldn't quite reach that level. That's why I turned to conducting and discovered that that was where my real talent lay. Believe me when I say that if you played the violin, you'd be concert master. You're one of the best musicians I've ever had the pleasure to work with and I think you'll soon be recognized for your talent as a contemporary composer as well."

"Thank you for that compliment, Ma'am. I'm happy with where I am and I only wish the very best for Curtis. I have to admit to feeling some envy but we are what we are, right?"

"Quite true, Hae-Won and you are just what I want in a first cello."

Outside the concert hall, she saw Curtis loading his cello into the back of his ancient Toyota Highlander. She walked up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hi, Curtis! You sounded really good in there. I think you're going to be a real credit to the orchestra."

"Thanks, Hae-Won. Coming from you, that's high praise."

"Well, you deserve it. By the way, thanks so much for the bedtime serenade last week. It was beautiful."

Curtis blushed a little. "You're welcome. I didn't even know if you were home but I hoped you were. It's such a beautiful piece and you're such a nice lady, it felt like the right thing to do. Besides, you invited me to do it, as I recall."

She laughed, "Yeah, I guess I did at that."

Hae-Won was just about to violate her own sense of propriety and ask if his invitation to dinner was still open when the Maestro stepped out the theater door and called her over to discuss something. Curtis took the moment to say 'bye' and head back to his apartment. He had just enough time to change clothes and rush to the restaurant to put in an extra shift to cover a big party.