Chapter 23: Moderato

"He's actually going to come," Emily said distantly, as she replaced the receiver.

"Oh, that's great!" Sandra chirped, giving her a little hug.

Richard just smiled through a mix of emotions. Every positive thing would help Emily.

It was easier to smile than he thought. Last night, when he had reached the point where he had to decide what he would do about Emily's confession, he was distraught. It would have been so easy to give in to the feelings of disappointment and betrayal that had been his first reaction.

He knew he had made some bad decisions himself, this semester. And yet, his friends had not rejected him. Rather they showed him love, and for that, he had offered Emily forgiveness. It was not without fear, but when Sandra followed his lead, he knew it was right.

"You didn't mention your horn," Richard said gently.

He saw Emily look for a long moment at the black case that stood on the floor by her bed. The pawnshop tag was still tied around the handle.

"No, I didn't," Emily murmured. "Some other time. I can't believe he's actually coming..."

Richard and Sandra smiled gently. "Now I'm nervous," Richard said with a little laugh.

Emily's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Um, I know he's 'just your dad, ' but he's also a famous conductor. And he'll be listening to us play."

Emily shrugged. "He might still change his mind about coming, so you might not have to worry."

"No, I hope he does come," Richard said vehemently. "But there will be a part of me thinking about him there listening, when we play. I actually think it's cool."

Emily turned and slumped down on her bed, and stared at the floor.

"How are you feeling?" Sandra asked, delicately.

"Small," Emily replied.

"Don't..." Richard said gently.

"I can't help it. I'm exhausted, too."

"Why don't you sleep then? Sandra and I will go to class, and we'll come by and see how you're doing in a few hours."

Emily shrugged. "Okay. What time are you finished? I barely even know what day it is."

"I have theory and then vocal ensemble until five," Sandra said.

"I'm out at four-thirty," Richard added. "We'll come by after Sandra's done and check on you. For now, just rest and don't worry. Everything is okay."

Emily fell back onto her bed. She made no further movement, so Richard pulled the covers over her.

"Can I have some music, maybe?" Emily asked.

"Sure. What do you want?"

"Something calming, just on really quietly."

"I have a CD of arias which I like to relax to," Sandra offered.

"Okay," Emily agreed.

Sandra found the CD and set it to play.

"We love you," Richard said, standing by the side of the bed.

Sandra echoed the sentiment.

Then, for the first time, Emily smiled a little.

Richard quietly closed the door and followed Sandra into the stairwell. Neither of them said anything until they exited the dorm and started towards the conservatory building.

"Wow, what a day," Richard said at last.

"And night," Sandra added.

"Could have been worse."

"Yeah."

Richard turned to her. "How are you?"

Sandra searched his eyes for a while. "Relieved, but also a little worried."

Richard nodded gravely. "We've done what we can do for now. Maybe a little sleep will help."

Sandra looked up at the dorm room window behind them. "I hope so. I really hope so."

"Do you want to talk about anything?" Richard asked.

Sandra regarded him again. "I think we feel the same way..."

Richard nodded, and glanced up at the room again. "She'll bounce back. We're talking about Emily, right?"

Back in the room, Emily lay still for perhaps twenty minutes with her eyes closed, vaguely listening to the arias Sandra had chosen. The swirl of thoughts in her head was overwhelming. She never knew confusion like she felt at that moment. Her mind played back the events of the night before, dim and convoluted as they were...

After waking from the strange dream with her father early that morning, the sound of Richard and Sandra's breathing beside her made Emily shiver. Despite having their warm bodies beside her and all the covers on, she felt like she was lying outside on a field of fresh snow.

I'm sorry. Please come back...

Richard's words echoed in her head. What did he mean?

Something was wrong.

I was with Joel. She had told them, at least twice. But they had misunderstood, given the late hour. No one would sweep aside such lack of faith and trust so easily. It was a dream, or a joke, or a misunderstanding, but it was not reality. Morning would come, and the truth would be bright and ugly. There was no coming back. How could she accept an apology when she had been the one to go so wrong?

The breathing grew louder in the dark. The scrapes and bruises that had settled down to being mere aches suddenly stung and felt red. Nausea crept over her, and she felt overwhelmingly stifled between Richard and Sandra.

Suddenly she ripped the covers off and struggled to climb over Sandra to reach the floor. She had to leave them here sleeping, before they woke up and realized the truth. As the room spun, her ears filled with a roaring sound, and the edges of her vision faded away. All she could see was some vague stains on a white rug, which suddenly were closer. Noises ... Lights ... She was free of the bed now, and running somewhere.

Richard and Sandra were calling after her. "Emily!" Their voices were far behind now. Where was she running? Even as the voices trailed away, she felt their arms on her shoulders. Were they running with her? It was unfair that they should catch up so easily.

"Let me go!" she cried.

They had found the truth; why not let her go?

For a moment blackness took over, and then vision slowly returned.

The stains...

"Emily ... Emily!"

She heard uncontrolled crying. It sounded like her mother, on the night that her father had left her for another woman. Then Emily realized it was her crying, before firmly rejecting the idea. It had to be another dream, since her mother was dead now. Even such a great heartbreak as hers could never penetrate the silence of the grave.

Emily listened to the sobs, hearing them from beyond a closed door in the large, cold house. She carefully pushed the door open and stared at her mother, curled up in a ball in front of a cold, dead fireplace. It was such a familiar scene, and yet something was wrong, or missing.

"Mommy?"

There was no response.

"Why are you crying?"

Emily knelt over her now.

Only crying answered her.

"Mommy, I'm scared," she said urgently.

Her mother looked up at her, her body still shuddering. The red stricken eyes looked older and more tired than Emily had ever seen them.

"I'll be all right," her mother said hoarsely.

Emily nodded vigorously, trying to comfort her and show strength.

Oh, Emily! Why? Why?

Her mother hadn't spoken, yet Emily had heard her voice, and it sent a chill down her spine.

Why?

The scene faded as Emily realized her father should have been there kneeling over her, instead of herself.

Instead of me ... Oh, god, no!

The nausea and blackness overwhelmed her again.

"Emily ... I'm scared ... Please..."

Something in those words suddenly marked a turn towards calm.

Gradually the world returned and Emily opened her eyes. She realized that she had not been running, but rather was pulled into a tight ball on the white rug of her room. The overhead bulbs blazed like surgical work lights and were never more unwelcome.

Richard and Sandra were still holding her shoulders. Reality came crashing back in. She could feel the bed linens wrapped around her legs.

"What happened?" she managed.

"You jumped out of bed and then fell down," Richard said softly.

"Lights ... bright..." she gasped, pointing at the offending bulbs.

Richard hopped up and turned on the corner lamp, and then rushed to turn the room lights off.

Emily visibly relaxed.

After a few deep breaths, she tried to get up. Everything was unsteady and unfocused.

Gentle hands pushed her back down. "Just relax, Emily."

"We'll take care of you."

Gentle fingers in her hair reminded her of hot summer nights months ago when everything was easier.

Emily woke up on the rug to the sight of early morning light. Her pillow was under her head. She saw Sandra watching her as she leaned back against the side of her bed.

Sandra tapped Richard, who was snoozing behind her on the mattress, and then she was near her in an instant.

"Hi," Sandra said.

"Hi," Emily said.

Richard was up and moving in the room.

"I'm parched," Emily said hoarsely, just as Richard appeared with a glass of water. "Oh, thanks."

Guilt flooded her as she drank and avoided their eyes. From the light, it was not past seven. I wonder if I've even slept three hours tonight, she wondered. Then she saw the red-rimmed eyes of her friends and squashed the thought. They had been watching over her, and probably not slept much at all.

"Do you need anything else?" Richard asked.

Emily shook her head.

"Let's get you on the bed," Sandra said.

Emily let out a slight moan at the thought of moving.

"It's all right. You'll sleep better."

Emily nodded after a moment of thought. The rug was thick but no substitute for a bed. Her shoulder bruise was quite sore from lying on it, she noticed.

Between the two of them, Richard and Sandra got Emily back on the bed, and then caressed her hair as she drifted off again.

Endless thoughts filled her mind again.

A phone ringing broke into Emily's dreams, slowly pulling on her senses. She woke up on the second ring, and saw Sandra pick up the phone and answer quietly.

"Hello?" Sandra peered over at Emily. "Uh, no, this is her roommate ... Yeah, Sandra ... She's in bed resting ... Oh? Can you tell me?"

There was a long pause, and then Emily saw Sandra's face melt in relief as her eyes closed.

"Oh, thank you, thank you! Oh, my god ... Yeah, of course, hold on."

Sandra fumbled with a pen and paper.

"Okay, go ahead." Sandra jotted down some information. "Okay, I'll tell her."

Suddenly it dawned on Emily what was happening. She stared wide-eyed at Sandra as she started to sit up. Sandra caught the movement and turned to her with a smile, pointing to the receiver. Richard was stirring from a deep sleep.

"Yes, well, thank you so much. I know this will be a huge relief!" Sandra said.

Emily staggered over to the other side of the room and glanced at the paper as Sandra ended the call. Richard was groggily looking around, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"They found your horn! They found it! It's okay!"

Emily felt her knees give way. In an instant, Richard was before her and caught her in his arms, and Emily found herself crying uncontrollably into his shirt.

"That was one of the pawnshops," Sandra said, life returning to her voice. "They have to take care of some paperwork with the police, but they have your horn!"

"But how?" Emily stuttered between sobs. "How did they find it so quickly? How did they find me?"

"Richard called all the pawnshops in the phonebook an hour ago," Sandra said gently.

Emily could do nothing else but cry.

Later that afternoon, Emily was riding in the front seat of a taxi, with Richard and Sandra in the back. She clutched her horn case on her lap, having dismissed the driver's offer to stow it in the trunk.

Upon returning to their room, Emily had reached for the phone before realizing it.

"Who are you calling?" Sandra inquired.

Emily paused, receiver in mid-air. "My dad," she said, surprised at the words.

"Do you want us to leave?" Richard asked.

"No. You can stay."

The arias Sandra had selected had ended. They had been comforting; it felt as though Sandra had still been in the room, singing to her. But now, Emily found herself filled with guilt at how Richard and Sandra had helped her for the past twelve hours straight. She closed her eyes, but sleep was still evasive, despite her exhaustion.

There was a knock on the door, followed by the sound of a key turning the lock.

Sandra and Richard came cautiously into the room. Emily could hear the sound of plastic grocery bags rustling.

"Oh good, you're awake," Sandra said cheerily.

"Couldn't sleep," Emily said. "I thought you had class."

Sandra glanced at her. "We did. It's almost six."

Emily looked at the drawn shades. "Oh. Maybe I did sleep then."

"You did," Richard confirmed. "We came in an hour ago and checked on you."

"Then we went shopping. Are you hungry?" Sandra asked.

"Starving," Emily admitted. "But..."

"But what?"

Emily turned her eyes to the ceiling as Sandra began pulling out their limited appliance selection from the closet. Richard and her got busy cooking.

"Why are you doing this?" Emily asked, after watching uneasily for ten minutes.

"Doing what?" Sandra asked.

"Cooking for me. Helping me. Everything."

"You've been through a lot. We're trying to help you feel better."

Emily sighed. "But after everything that happened..."

"We just want to help..."

"Stop! Stop saying that!" Emily suddenly cried out in anguish. She swept the covers from her body and stood up abruptly, running a frantic hand through her unkempt hair.

"Emily," Richard said gently, moving towards her.

Emily held up a hand. "No. This is wrong! I messed up. This is not what should be happening. I haven't told you everything."

Richard and Sandra looked at Emily and then each other. "Okay," Sandra said. "What else do you want to tell us?"

Emily closed her eyes, bracing herself for having to admit being unfaithful for the third time.

"I didn't just watch a movie over at Joel's house."

"Okay."

"I fooled around with him!"

Richard nodded. "Okay. You already said so last night. Several times."

Emily let out a cry. "But why then? Why are you helping me! I cheated on you. Cheated on you both. Don't you see? I didn't just kiss a little, even. I was drunk and I ... I..."

"Emily, we told you last night. We're not mad at you. We forgive you."

Richard glanced at Sandra. "I told you, I was sorry for everything I've done this week. This month. Maybe you fell asleep and didn't hear what we said? You were pretty out of it. What do you remember?"

"I gave him a blowjob," Emily blurted out, still trying to get past the surreal moment.

"Yes, you told us everything, last night..."

"I never told you that," Emily said, confusion on her face.

"You said you did, and that you didn't sleep with him."

"I didn't," Emily confirmed.

"Then we talked, remember?" Sandra said.

Emily frowned and looked around at the room. "I remember waking you up when it was dark. And then you got into my bed. And you said something like 'Tonight wasn't your fault, ' and then I remember waking up again and trying to get out of the bed."

Sandra smiled sadly. "Well, before you tried to get up, we had a talk."

"I guess you missed my long monologue," Richard said, laughing a little.

"What monologue?" Emily asked, confused.

"It was a good one," Sandra said.

Emily's shoulders sagged as she sat on the edge of her bed again. She wondered why she was angry at them. "I'm so confused."

Richard sat next to her. "We thought you were awake. Well, you seemed to be."

"What did I say?" Emily asked meekly.

"You told us about how you met Joel after your class was cancelled, and then hit the bar with him, got really drunk, ended up on his couch, um, reliving old times, and then sneaked out after you both passed out."

"Oh. And what did you say to all that?"

"Well, Richard went on about all the stupid things he'd done lately," Sandra said. "Went on and on, really."

"Then we told you that we weren't mad, just scared that we didn't know where you were, and worried about your horn. And you said you understood, and that you wanted to talk more in the morning."

"I don't remember any of that," Emily said.

"Well, that's what happened," Richard said.

Emily sighed. "And why exactly are you not mad?"

"Why should we be mad?"

"Um, usually when someone does something like what I did, the other person in the relationship is mad. At least."

"Perhaps," Richard said, thoughtfully. "But in this case I feel like it is my fault."

"No, I went out and acted stupid."

"Em, you were acting really strange that afternoon," Richard said. "I knew something wasn't right. If everything was cool, you would have wanted to come back to the dorm and hang with us. Look, I think we all agree we're none of us experts at this relationship we have."

"It is harder," Emily admitted.

"But it's also been incredible," Sandra added. "The two of you mean the world to me."

"I love both of you," Richard said quietly. "And as much as I love Sandra, it's not the same without you, Emily. We both need you. When we didn't hear from you all last evening, do you think we said, 'Oh, cool, now we have some time alone?'"

Emily shrugged.

"Of course not!" Richard said. "We worried about you. We hardly slept, hoping you were okay. All we did was talk about you, and think about you."

Emily let out a deep breath, and then stood up and paced the room for a minute. Richard and Sandra gave her the time she needed.

"I don't know why I feel so strange," Emily began. "I mean, the two of you have been so caring to me today. Last night too. And it seems wrong for me to let you be that way."

"But we do care about you."

"And I'm having a hard time with that. I hurt you by going to Joel's. And yet you welcome me back and want me back. You stayed up all night watching me. You got up early and found my ... my horn! You brought all this," Emily waved a hand at the food that was cooking, "for me."

Tears welled up and began to run down her cheeks. "I never saw anything like this when I was growing up. My dad had his first affair when I was young. My mom never forgave him. That was the end. She would never trust him again. When I saw how it left her, crying on the cold hard floor, I swore I'd never do that to someone. But here I am! And yet you care for me instead. Why? I should be happy, but it makes me so ... so sad!" she cried out.

Sandra and Richard moved to her and took her into an embrace, comforting her.

"It's love, Emily," Richard whispered. "I don't know much about love, but this has to be it. We love you."

"I can't believe Thanksgiving is in less than a week," Sandra said between bites.