Chapter 28: Interlude

"Bob, come away from that goddamn thing!" Betty called out from the back door.

"Just another minute," he said. "The light is on again."

Bob grinned as he heard Betty's footsteps tapping across the patio stones.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"Nothing yet."

"Let me see," she urged.

Bob moved aside.

"Lights out," she said, straightening up.

Bob crouched down, confirming her observation.

"Oh well," he said, and started putting things away.

He turned to find Betty watching him.

"Are you finished, now?" she asked.

"I guess so."

"Good. I've been waiting for the last hour for you."

"For what?"

Betty pointed upwards. "I want to do that..."

"Oh. Did you invite a friend, then?"

Betty made a face at him, and then swatted him on the arm. "Pervert." She marched towards the door.

"Me? You were the one who turned the telescope towards the hotel!" he called out, as he went after her.

Betty just turned and grinned, before disappearing into the house.

Richard awoke slowly. Light had come at last, unwelcome; but it had come. He found his hand still clasped between those of his two lovers, and smiled. He pulled at the memories of the night, finding that he could still call the feeling of bliss to him at will. It was part of him now.

He looked back and forth to each side, smiling at the two faces sleeping peacefully beside him. He didn't know how they could be any more beautiful than they looked just then. He recalled their faces when they entered the hotel, took their first bite of food, felt the elevator rise, floated into the room...

And now he took in their faces as they slept.

They were images he'd remember forever.

Tearing himself away, he checked his watch. It was later than he expected, but he had woken up in time.

Very slowly, and reluctantly, he extricated himself from between his sleeping beauties. Letting out a breath as he finally escaped without rousing them, he covered them to their waists with a sheet. Then he found his pants on the floor, and went to the window to put them on.

He took a few minutes to look out at the city, bright with morning sun now. It was completely different than the prickled silhouette they had enjoyed looking out over the night before. He felt sad, as he watched the moving busses, and the sidewalks full of people bustling to work. They had all been asleep some hours earlier, oblivious of the passionate night that had ensued on the top floor of the Concorde.

And now it's ending, Richard knew. It will be a long time before I have another night quite like this...

A light knock brought him out of his thoughts.

He opened the door, and the aroma of breakfast made his stomach lurch. He was starving.

The attendant pushed the cart through the door. Richard almost stopped him, but then stepped aside, suddenly feeling rich.

Who cares! I won't be back here for a long time.

"Can you put it over by the bed?" he asked quietly, holding the door open and keeping his voice as smooth as he could.

The young man nodded and pushed the cart in.

Richard grinned as he caught the man's misstep when he pushed the cart around the corner. He wiped the look from his face as the man turned around quickly and came back towards the door.

Richard held out a tip. "Thanks," he said nonchalantly.

The man nodded, smiling and glancing at Richard for only a quick moment before he disappeared down the hallway. Richard shut the door and laughed.

He disrobed and crawled back into bed, less carefully this time, and that elicited some murmurs from the snoozers.

"Good morning!" he said, as they opened squinty eyes at him.

They smiled broadly as they stretched in satisfaction. Then the aroma of the food entered their system, and they perked up.

"Mm, I'm starving!" Sandra said, sitting up and looking at the tray.

"Me too!" Emily agreed.

They looked at Richard, pausing to take him in.

Emily shook her head slowly. "You do realize you've completely spoiled us?"

Richard shrugged happily.

"I could get used to this," Sandra agreed, running a hand over the sheets.

"I wish I could do this every day for you," Richard said honestly.

"I know. But, I also know we can't. I'll be living off of last night for a long time," Sandra said.

"Good. I'm really glad you had a good time."

They shared a hug, and then Richard served up the food.

"What time do we have to leave paradise?" Emily asked.

"Too soon," Sandra said wistfully.

Richard glanced at his watch. "We have a little time. One hour, thirty four minutes."

"Oh, good," Emily said. "Another bath would be wonderful. And, I think I'm still going to be a little hungry, even after we eat," she said suggestively.

Richard laughed, and pulled the sheet over himself as protection. "Ah, but I'm sore."

"Really?" Emily asked.

"Yeah. Rubbed raw," he said.

"I might be too," Sandra agreed.

"Wusses," Emily said, and they all shared a chuckle.

Richard took a drink of his espresso, and let out a sigh.

"Good?" Sandra asked, suddenly looking at him with interest.

"Average," he said. "But it will do."

"There's no need to settle," Emily said suddenly.

Richard looked blankly at her. "Huh?"

Sandra and Emily grinned at each other, and then hopped off the bed.

Richard frowned, confused, as they went into the closet. For a few moments, there was some noise of rummaging through things, and then they returned.

Sandra was carrying a large box, and Emily had three smaller boxes. All four were wrapped in Christmas paper.

"We thought about giving you this last night, but we felt a little overwhelmed by your gift," Sandra said.

"But, now seems like just the right moment."

Richard grabbed the big package as Sandra held it out to him.

"Where were you hiding this?" Richard asked, surprised at the appearance of the large box.

"Why do you think I had three bags with me this afternoon?" Sandra said.

"I don't know, clothes ... Girl stuff..."

Sandra raised a brow, but then started laughing. "Girl stuff?"

"All right, just open it!" Emily urged him, cutting off the banter.

Richard tore the paper, and then let his mouth fall open. Before he could cry out in surprise, his throat tightened up.

"Merry Christmas," they said happily.

Richard stared at them, still very moved. "I don't know what to say," he managed.

"Is it okay?" Emily asked.

"Okay? Yeah it's okay!" Richard took them into an embrace. "Thank you, both. I can't believe it... ! You are amazing!"

The girls kissed him twice, and then Emily handed him one of the smaller boxes. He opened it, and was met by the aroma of rich coffee. He pulled out the paper bag, and then did a double take when he read the label.

Giovanni's ... But how... ?

He looked at them, unbelieving.

"How did you get this?"

"I had a few hours before my flight back when I was in New York. Your dad told me where the coffee place was, down on Arthur's Avenue."

"Oh my god!" he exclaimed, breathing in the aroma deeply.

The second box contained a set of six espresso cups.

Finally Emily handed him the last box. "Bet you can guess what this is."

Richard grinned as he unwrapped the coffee grinder.

"Now you don't have to settle. Well, set it up!" Sandra urged.

"Yeah, breakfast is getting cold," Emily added, eyeing the food.

Richard had the girls help him set up the machine, and in a short while he had served up the first espresso. He sipped it like it was an elixir.

"Oh ... Wow."

The girls smiled.

Then he turned to them, shaking his head. "This is an awesome present. It's going to make getting up so much easier this year. Thank you ... I'm really touched."

With that, he hugged them tight.

Can life get any better, he wondered.

Richard flipped through the score that he found on the desk. He wondered why Mrs. Tertychnaya had never recorded the Etudes. As he was reminding himself to make a copy of her concert performance of them for William, Dave strode into the sound room.

"Good afternoon!"

"Hey, Dave."

"How was your aunt's house? You look a little tired!"

"Great. It was good to see her," Richard said evenly. "We stayed up late talking."

"Cool. Well, today will be easy. You'll just load the tapes into the computer. Tomorrow we'll get going on the actual editing."

"Okay, cool."

Dave pressed the start button on the computer keyboard, fired up the rack of equipment and the amplifiers for the speakers, and then grabbed the first tape from the stack on the desk.

It took him about twenty minutes to show Richard how to get the editing system going, and how to set things properly to match the recording settings of the tapes. Then they started loading the audio from the tape.

"It's a digital transfer, so there's no need to watch levels or anything. Basically, all you need to do is load each take as a separate file, and keep the names straight. If you hear anything funny, let me know. Leave some space before and after the takes, especially in the ring off at the end of the movements."

"Sounds easy enough," Richard agreed.

"Well, I'll be in my office."

"What about false starts? Do I load them?"

Dave nodded. "Load everything. We have the disk space, and you never know when you might need to pull something from an out take." Dave leaned closer to Richard, even though the audio wing was deserted and the room was soundproofed. "You know how Jarrett is," he said quietly, and then laughed.

Richard laughed too, and then Dave waved.

"Have fun!"

Richard turned back to the computer, and followed the score as take one progressed.

I'm going to be hearing this music a lot this week, he thought.

The late night of loading tapes led to a late start to the following day. He rode in with Dave, glad that the dorm was reopening. He had been very comfortable on Dave's pull out couch, he admitted, but he also hadn't seen Sandra and Emily since he dropped them off at Emily's teacher's house the day before. It seemed like an eternity, especially after the wondrous night they had shared at the hotel.

After unpacking a few things from his bags, including setting up his espresso machine on his desk, he headed downstairs to meet the girls for a quick lunch. Then it would be back to the studio to continue his work for Dave.

Richard had just arrived at their room and was kissing Emily deeply, when Sandra burst in behind him. She waltzed around the rug, flicking a little stick in the air, and holding a small pile of books.

"Good morning," she sang happily, kissing them both.

"What's that?" Richard asked.

"I got it at the music store. I'm taking conducting class."

"What?"

"I just added it to my schedule."

Emily laughed from the bed. "It's a baton, Sandra, not a fairy wand."

Sandra shot her a frown. "Be quiet, then, or I'll turn you to stone!"

"Conducting?" Richard asked skeptically.

"Yeah."

"Okay ... So, does your wand have magic powers?" he asked, grinning at Emily.

"No, I doubt it." Sandra pointed it at Emily, and scrunched up her face. "Nope," she said, visually disappointed.

"What did you try to do to me?" Emily asked, frowning at her.

"You don't want to know," Sandra answered, her face serious. She looked down at her baton sadly. "Oh well. At least we do have one wand around here with magic powers," she said.

Richard laughed as she passed him and took hold of the second baton for a moment.

"My Mondays are going to be crazy, though," she said.

"What time is the conducting class?"

"Four to six. So I have German, counterpoint, piano class, ear training and conducting on Mondays," Sandra counted off, opening her hand a finger at a time. She threw the hand in the air and turned to her desk to clean up.

Emily laughed. "You're crazy."

"Eh. Conducting is not a big deal. It's only one credit."

"How many credits are you taking?"

"Twenty."

"Twenty! Damn ... Guess we won't be seeing you much this semester," Emily said.

"No, I'll be fine," Sandra said. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Now I feel bad. I'm only taking fourteen," Richard said.

"Which is what normal people do!" Emily exclaimed.

"Well, if anyone can do it, you can," Richard told Sandra.

She smiled sincerely at him.

"Well, are we doing lunch, or what?" Richard suddenly asked. "I have to get back to the studio soon. Dave's waiting."

"Yeah, let's go. I'm starving," Sandra said.

"I think you can eat here, Sandra," Emily said mischievously. She turned to Richard. "Maybe if Witch Sandra waves your wand around for a while, she can magically get a meal out of it."

"Emily!"

"What? You started it!"

Richard headed back to the studio after a less than satisfying meal at Crapler. The month away from the cafeteria had significantly lessened the acceptance of the place that they had grudgingly grown during the first semester. Still, Richard felt it necessary to eat there, given the amount of money he had spent a few nights before.

Dave was sitting at the desk, loading more of the session tapes. They had enough in the computer now that Richard could start editing. Loading the remaining tapes was something Dave could do while he worked on other things.

For the next hour, Dave walked Richard through the process of assembling the edited version of each piece on Irina's album. After demonstrating, and then watching a few edits, Dave was satisfied enough to leave Richard on his own.

"Seems like you've got it. I'll hang out for a while, in case you have questions. When in doubt, just leave it and we'll come back to it tomorrow. Remember, this is non-destructive editing, so there's not much you can do wrong ... except lose all the edits you've made, of course! Just save every few minutes, and you'll be fine."

Richard nodded, and Dave clapped him on the shoulder.

"And, don't forget to keep track of your hours."

"I won't."

"I'll be in my office."

Richard breathed in as he watched Dave close the door. The room was almost dead silent. Besides the blood pumping in his ears, the hum of a few quiet fans on the equipment rack was the only sound he could hear. He took a moment to relax.

He looked at the score, finding the next edit as marked by Jarrett. Go into take thirty somewhere in this bar, Richard translated from Jarrett's marking.

Richard brought up take thirty in the edit window, and then found and marked the same point in the music on the old and new takes. Then he pressed the edit key, and the two takes were assembled. With a little shifting of the cross fade, he had it to a point where he could not tell the edit was there. He found it somewhat unbelievable.

Over the ensuing hours, Richard worked through the music, finding that it went really quickly. Irina had such control and precision in her playing that he found Dave's warnings about matching the sonority between takes to be extremely easy. Rarely did he have to move a cross fade to accommodate a difference in her playing between takes.

A few times Jarrett's notes were incomplete. There were a few sections where no preferred take was indicated. Since Dave had already gone home, Richard took the initiative, and listened to the available takes. He assembled the section with the best take he found.

He forced himself to take a dinner break with Sandra and Emily, lest they cry foul at his self imposed imprisonment. By the time he became too tired to keep his eyes open late that night, he had edited about fifteen minutes of the music together.

After he packed up, he left a note for Dave telling him where he had left off, and went back to the dorm for a night of heavy sleep.

The trio found themselves deep in work even before the semester officially started the following Wednesday. On Monday, Richard had chanced upon Nelson in the hallways of Wexford, and that led to a rehearsal of the Serenade with him that evening. They also established a weekly meeting time with him on Fridays.

On the night before classes, the three of them found themselves with a couple of rare hours together, since Richard had finished the editing that afternoon.

"Well, that's one thing off my list," Richard said, as he crossed off the top line on the paper he held.

"Glad to be done?"

"Yeah. It's pretty intense."

"What happens with the project now?"

"Dave said he'll have Jarrett listen to what I did. If he hears any problems, Dave will have me come in and fix them, if I have the time. Then it goes to Irina, and she'll give it a listen. I think the majority of the work is done, though. Dave said probably they will ask if there are any alternate takes for a few sections if they're not convinced with the chosen take. Other than that..." Richard shrugged.

"Cool."

"This list is still big," Richard said, sighing. "I won't be crossing anything else off for a while. I have all the music for the recital to practice ... Keep up my solo stuff for juries ... Sandra, have you finalized the songs you want to do? I've liked trying them all out, but at this point I want to just focus on the ones we'll be doing."

"I'm going to do the three Wolf songs, and probably the Strauss one. Let's work on those four. If the Strauss doesn't come together, we'll bag it. We have to file our program with the events office in a month or so. But that will be it, I promise."

"Cool ... I think I'm just going to start the semester right off by meeting with Dobra every week, surprised as I am to say that," Richard said, returning to his list. "But I can't afford to get behind, you know? Not with the recital near the end of the semester."

"I agree," Sandra said. "I'm doing the same thing."

"What is this piece?" Emily asked, pointing to the stereo.

"Verklaerte Nacht," Sandra replied. "I borrowed the CD from Ben."

"Oh, that's Schoenberg, right?"

"Yeah. We're going to be conducting it in class this semester. I am so in love with this music!" she said emphatically.

"But there's no horn part in it!" Emily said, making a face.

"No, just strings," Sandra said. "Not all music has to have a horn part!"

"All good music does."

"Brass snob!" Sandra teased.

"How does conducting class work? Do you conduct to a recording?" Richard asked.

"No, I think the students make up the orchestra when they're not conducting. I'll find out next week. Mr. Menlos left a note in everyone's box telling us to be ready to go, and bring our instruments. Obviously I'll just be watching."

"You can bust out your fiddle."

"I don't have it with me, and I wouldn't even if I did," Sandra said.

"I still haven't heard you play," Richard said.

"Some day."

"I hope so."

"When you come to my house, I promise."

The phone rang, and Emily grabbed it.

"Hello? Oh, hi..."

Emily listened, smiling after a while.

"Thanks ... Okay, I will ... Bye."

She hung up.

"Who was that?" Sandra asked.

"My dad."

"What did he want?"

"Just wanted to wish me luck this semester, getting ready for the recital."

"Really? That was nice of him."

Emily nodded. "He's been different lately."

"What's up?"

"I think it's his new fiancée."

"The one he took to New York?" Richard asked.

"Yeah."

"Do you like her?"

"I kind of have to."

"What do you mean?"

"She's my dad's assistant. Been so for years and years. We used to hang out during rehearsals, when I was younger. I've always liked her."

"So it's a good thing, then?"

Emily shrugged. "It's weird. I haven't brought it up, because I'm still trying to figure it out."

"What?"

"I guess I'm just used to automatically hating anyone my dad gets together with."

Richard and Sandra nodded in understanding.

"I mean, he betrayed my mom. It's as simple as that, really. I can't imagine what she went through. She was beautiful, you know. She was a beautiful, amazing violinist. After she gave up hopes of keeping her career going, she would still play for me. Even when she was going through chemo ... I'd listen to her play all day. She didn't need to talk to me with words. Instead of bedtime stories, she would play for me, weaving a new story with music every night."

Emily was staring out the window, her hand absently imitating a bowing motion.

"I knew what she was going through, just by the way she played. It was like the music was ... a window on her heart. When she died..."

Richard put an arm on her shoulder as she trailed off. Her voice had grown too tight.

"I've never told this to anyone," Emily said at last, swallowing hard. "When she died, I wanted to have her buried with her violin. I wanted her to be able to play for me, even after she was gone..."

A tear trickled down Emily's cheek.

"But ... My dad said no. Her violin was too valuable for that, he said. So he took it away from me at the funeral."

"Really?" Sandra said incredulously, a tear on her cheek as well.

"Yeah. I never saw it again. A few months later, he told me he sold it and put the money in the fund my mom left for me."

"That's awful," Sandra whispered.

"He said that material possessions didn't matter. He said I needed to remember her playing, in my head. The violin was not her soul mate any more, but just an instrument now. The music in it was dead. 'Only in your memories can your mother's music live on.' Those were his words. And maybe he was right..."

"He didn't have to sell the violin," Richard said quietly.

Emily shrugged, as she wiped the tears from her face and returned to the room from her distant memories. "He thought I'd be better off with the money. Maybe he was right about that too. It was a really rare violin. I was young, and didn't know what she really had until years after she died. He wasn't about to let an eleven year old girl bury that instrument out of sentimentality."

Richard sighed. "Who has it now? Someone famous must be playing it?"

"Nah, not that I've seen. It went to a collector, and it's probably sitting deep in a safe somewhere, in the dark."

"Then the music in it really is dead," Sandra murmured. "What a waste..."

"Maybe it'll come back to you someday, Em," Richard said.

"Like I could ever afford it now!" Emily said, suddenly laughing off the depressing spell she'd gone through.

"Do you still have the money from the sale?"

Emily shrugged. "Sure. But that maker's violins have doubled in price in the last five years. Every time I hear of one up for sale, I check it out, just to see if it's my mother's violin."

"That's really sad, Emily," Richard said. "I can't imagine how it must have felt to lose your mother, and then her violin too."

Emily did not say anything as Richard and Sandra hugged her.

"Now you know why I've never liked my dad. And then he goes and gets engaged to Audrey."

"Is that his assistant?"

"Yeah. She even looks a little like my mom. And she's someone I've liked for years." Emily closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Suddenly it's like my dad cares about me, for some reason."

"Is it her influence?"

"I don't know. Maybe ... I was looking at the calendar in his office, and I realized how amazing it is that he's even coming to the recital."

"Why?"

"He's flying out that morning, and leaving the next, because that's his one night off from Mahler Three rehearsals."

Richard and Sandra nodded.

"I mean, part of me is still expecting him to call one day and say he's had to cancel. Mahler Three is like one of the most massive pieces in the repertoire. It's hard to believe he won't need that time, a couple of weeks before the concert."

"But he called to wish you luck. Sounds like he's looking forward to the recital."

"I know. And even though most of me keeps doubting it, a small part of me keeps telling me this is real. I don't know why he's reaching out."

"How was break with him?"

"Oh, I don't know. Kind of the same, but not ... We talked more. Never about anything important, you know. I stopped telling him about anything I really cared about after my mother died. I couldn't trust him not to take it away from me, somehow."

Emily sighed. "But, even talking about whatever with him this last month, he seemed like he was actually interested. He wanted to know all about you two, and how my lessons with Mr. Tyler were going. I mean, he was busy, and I didn't see him all that much, but he tried to make time to have dinner and stuff."

"I hope he comes out," Sandra said. "It sounds like he was terrible to you and your mother, but he's still your dad, too. Maybe he's changed."

"Maybe. I'm not really going to believe it until I see him sitting in that hall. That's when I'll believe. Maybe."

The first shortened week of classes passed in a blur. Even though the workloads were still light, the pressure of the recital began to weigh on them immediately. It seemed to Richard that he was spending every available moment practicing. It felt good, since things were starting to come together.

With a few exceptions, most movements of the Serenade were feeling more natural to play, and the trio was starting to gel musically. Richard found himself really getting into the music for the first time, as opposed to just trying to stay with the girls and keep things from falling apart. They began to share satisfied looks at least as often as laughs or even frowns. As Sandra had predicted when they planned the recital, it was really nice to be able to spend time together while working.

Still, there was much work to be done. Many sections of the Serenade were still rough. The songs and the sonata that the girls were playing for their part of the recital were also still in the learning stages.

Getting up for an eight o'clock music history class on Tuesdays and Thursdays was already old after the first day. Sandra had the additional burden of her second semester of German being at eight on the other three weekdays, which allowed her only weekends for sleeping in.

Even Jer seemed drained as the semester got rolling.

"Dude, you've been moping all day," Richard said, as he came back from practicing to find Jer still staring at the ceiling.

"I have no energy right now."

"Everything cool?"

"Eh. Jenna's acting weird. She's always a little ... different after we have a long break apart. It's only been a week, so I shouldn't get worried. Still, I don't feel like doing much."

Richard laughed. "She's got you in her grip."

"Nah. I'm just tired. I slept too much over break."

The phone rang. Jer was out of bed instantly, and answered it.

"Hello? Yeah, hold on..."

Jer passed the phone to Richard. "Arlene?" he whispered.

Richard smiled.

"Hey you. I was just going to call you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I wanted to see how things were going back at school."

There was a pause. "Well, things are happening. But how are you?"

"I'm good. Busy as hell with recital stuff, but..."

"Are you giving a recital? I didn't know."

"I guess it didn't come up. But yeah, April ninth. It's joint, with a couple of friends. We're just doing it for fun, but sometimes I wonder if it was the best decision. It's a lot of work."

"I bet."

"So, what's up with you?"

"Well ... I'm not going back to Juilliard," Arlene announced.

"What? Really?"

"Yeah. I took your advice. You said some things that night which really made sense."

"I don't remember making much sense of anything that night," Richard said with a laugh.

Arlene chuckled too. "Maybe not. But you were still right. I needed to get out of that situation. So I'm transferring out."

"To where?" Richard asked.

"I'm not sure yet. I've lined up some auditions."

"Are you going to audition here?"

"Actually I am. And also at Curtis and Eastman. I was talking to William —"

"William? Really? I thought you hated him."

"No. I hated everyone that night. It wasn't personal."

Richard nodded. "Okay."

"I got together with him, because I needed to talk to someone..."

"You could have called me."

"I know. And I almost did. But ... I know William is obsessive about pianists. And you said that he knew Mr. Smith was wrong for me. So I thought maybe he'd know who was right for me."

"How did your teacher take the news that you were cutting out?"

"Haven't heard a word, which worries me a little. But, I need to move on."