Sonata for Springtime, page 5
Natalie greeted me with her usual cheery grin. Her dark hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, save for several wisps that had slipped out of place to frame her face. Cutoff denim shorts and a bright-pink halter top completed her casual appearance, perfect for the event to commemorate the end of the summer. “Having fun?” she asked.
“Yes, of course,” I lied. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“We wouldn’t leave you out!”
I half-paid attention as she gestured toward the five or six people sitting nearby and introduced them by name, ending with the woman sitting next to me. “And this is Pam,” she said.
“Hi, everyone.” I tried to offer a friendly wave and almost dumped my cheeseburger on my lap in the process. “Nice to meet you.”
“Pam’s one of my oldest friends,” she continued. “She teaches in one of the local school districts.”
“Oh, how nice.” I smiled. “Chasing around after little kids all day must be tough, but I’m sure they’re cute enough to make up for it.”
Pam rested her plastic fork on the edge of her plate of salad. “I teach high school calculus.”
This day was not getting any better. “Sorry for the assumption,” I said meekly. “I should just quit this conversation now, both because of the misstep and the fact that I’ve always been terrible at math.”
Natalie giggled. “Something you’re not good at? I’m shocked.”
“Please. You’ve already seen my lack of ability in other areas.” I turned back to Pam. “Natalie’s been teaching me how to play the piano, or trying to, I should say.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“If you heard me play, it would make an even worse impression.”
Someone on the other side of the group pulled Natalie into their conversation with a question I couldn’t hear, leaving me to flounder. “So…you must really like math,” I said to Pam, and then immediately cringed at how dumb the words sounded as they came out of my mouth.
She shrugged, her blonde curls bobbing with the movement. “I was always good with numbers. Teaching seemed like a better alternative than being cooped up in some stuffy office all day.”
“I don’t know. I think I’d rather stay behind the safety of my desk than get up in front of a room of teenagers.” Maybe I could redeem myself after all. “Not everyone could do what you do. It takes a special set of skills to motivate people to learn.”
Her expression softened. “How kind of you to say.”
“I’m sure I’d make a terrible teacher.” I was rambling by this point, but I felt compelled to make some sort of effort at socializing during this party. “I’m probably not a very good student at this point in my life, either. I have a lot of sympathy for Natalie for trying to impart her talent and wisdom on someone who struggles as much as I do.”
“But at least you want to learn.” She took a sip from a red plastic cup. “I’m fortunate, too, in that respect. Most of the students who get to my advanced classes have a passion for the subject and want to do well. Motivation is rarely an issue.”
“Lucky you. I hope they appreciate everything you do to teach them.”
“Usually, the challenge lies in dealing with their frustration at the more difficult concepts.” A tiny smile appeared. “I’d like to think I’m good at guiding them through it, though.”
I laughed, almost knocking over my burger again. “Trust me, I’m familiar with this feeling from the other side these days. I’m sure you’re great.”
Having recovered from my terrible introduction, I managed to maintain casual conversation with Pam without any further blunders. Overhead, the sky grew darker as dusk settled over the backyard. Insects buzzed around the patio lights as the crowds thinned out, many of the partygoers citing city traffic or work the following morning as their reason for departure. Before long, only a few guests remained.
Pam swatted a mosquito away from her face. “Natalie!” she called across the yard. “I’m going to start bringing some of the food inside, okay?”
She glanced over at us from where she stood beside Chris at the grill. “Oh, thanks! It would be a big help.”
With little else to do, I left my chair and grabbed a bowl of fruit salad. Pam held the door open for me and I followed her into the kitchen. She opened and closed the cabinet doors, eventually finding a stack of plastic storage containers and a roll of foil. I stood beside her at the counter and started scooping the fruit out of its decorative bowl.
“There doesn’t seem to be a lot of leftovers,” she said. “I can probably handle this on my own.”
I scraped the last few blueberries off the edge of the bowl. “I don’t mind.”
She wrapped up the remnants of the onion dip. “At least you seem to be as nice of a guy as Natalie told me you were.”
I initially felt flattered, but something in her tone indicated perhaps her statement wasn’t as much of a compliment as it appeared on its surface. “You don’t sound convinced.”
Pam ripped another sheet of aluminum foil off the roll and reached for a plate of raw vegetables. “Haven’t you figured it out by now?” A puff of air left her lips. “This was her attempt at setting us up.”
Oh. I scratched the back of my head. “Sorry I’m not better looking,” I tried to joke.
“That’s not the issue.” She set the plate back on the countertop with a clatter and fixed me with a steely glare. “It’s obvious to me how you feel about her. But Natalie is one of my best friends, and she’s happy with Chris, and I don’t want anything screwing it up for her.”
I didn’t bother to deny the allegation outright. “You don’t have to worry,” I said. “I like both of them, just as a friendly neighbor. I wouldn’t want anything to come between them, either.”
“Uh-huh.” Her mouth pressed into a straight line. “Either way, I’ll assume we’re not each other’s types, and while I’ll thank Natalie for her efforts, I’m not feeling up to forcing something that’s not there, especially when your heart’s already set on someone else.”
Yet again, I questioned my decision to attend the barbecue in the first place. “I’m sorry I wasn’t what you expected.” I snapped the lid on the container of fruit and stepped back from the counter. “I guess I should start making my way home if you’ve got this covered.”
“Have a good night,” she said flatly.
I returned outside and found Rocky’s leash where I’d draped it over a chair. After fastening it to his collar, I stopped by the patio, where Natalie and Chris stood with two of his bandmates. “Heading out already?” Chris asked, raising his beer toward the first glimmers of stars in the sky. “It’s still early!”
“Yeah, I think it’s time.”
Natalie glanced at the kitchen window, beyond which her friend stood alone, and then back at me. “Aww. Are you sure you can’t stay for a little longer?”
“Positive.” I prepared to offer a convincing lie to maintain the expected societal routines. “Thanks so much for inviting me, though. I had a great time.”
“We’re so glad you could make it!” she said.
Chris transferred his bottle to the other hand to offer me a wide grin and a hearty handshake, which I accepted. “Get home safely, all right?”
I laughed for his benefit. “I think I’ll manage.”
The streetlamps illuminated my short walk across the street. I led Rocky up the steps to Mrs. Wilkes’s door and let myself inside. “Ah, you’re back,” she said as she came into the living room. “Did you have fun?”
I put Rocky’s leash away in the proper place, not meeting her gaze. “It was all right, I guess.”
“Only ‘all right?’ You’re over there so much, I would have thought you’d enjoy the opportunity to meet even more new people.”
“I don’t think I’m one for big crowds.” I shrugged. “It was nice enough.”
“Mm-hmm.” Her eyebrows arched. “Anything else you want to talk about?”
I finally turned to look at her. “Not really, no.”
She sat on the sofa and gave Rocky a pat when he jumped up next to her. “Just be careful, Jonathan. Okay?”
I didn’t feel like dealing with another set of accusations, regardless of whether or not they were true, and retreated to the exit. “Whatever you say.”
She shook her head but didn’t press the issue.
“I’ll talk to you soon,” I said, opening the door. “Let me know if you need anything.”
The dog curled up on her lap and she waved me off over his head. “Thank you for taking Rocky out, even if he had a better time than you did.”
I chuckled in spite of myself. “Good night, Mrs. Wilkes.”
The darkness greeting me at home didn’t improve my mood any. Despite all my efforts to do the right thing and camouflage how I felt about Natalie, I couldn’t help feeling ashamed over my private thoughts. Something had to change going forward, but I wished I knew what.
Chapter Eight
I paced around my living room, restless, and tried not to check the clock for the hundredth time. Flashes of similar anxiety before high school dances and other such dates pierced my memory, but this wasn’t a date. Or so I kept telling myself. Tonight, I am simply going out in the city to help support a friend. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.
The words almost sounded convincing in my head.
At 7:38, I finally heard a knock at the door. I opened it and blinked in surprise. Natalie stood on my front steps, though I almost didn’t recognize her. Her usual casual clothes were replaced by tight jeans and high-heeled boots. An unzipped leather jacket parted to reveal a cluster of necklaces dangling into the deep V of her shirt. Her hair was swept back from her face in tousled waves and black eyeliner ringed her eyes, enhancing their expressiveness. Though her appearance presented a stark contrast to what I’d come to expect from her, I found her amazingly attractive no matter what.
She caught me staring and rolled her eyes before I could say anything. “I know, I know. This is all so over-the-top, but I have a role to play tonight, remember?”
I shook my head. “You look nice. I mean, better than nice. Really.”
She pursed her lips and put one hand on her hip, but no amount of makeup could conceal the hint of appreciation I saw reflected in her eyes. “I don’t know if I agree, but thank you.”
“You’ll fit in much better than I will.” I glanced down at my buttoned shirt and dark jeans. I hadn’t been sure of what to wear to Chris’s band’s performance, but I tried to reassure myself that no one at the club would be paying any attention to me. Especially if I was standing next to the drop-dead gorgeous Natalie.
She scrutinized me from head to toe in a similar way and tapped her chin. “Untuck your shirt. It’s a little dorky as it is,” she said, giggling.
I did what she asked, smoothing out any wrinkles at the bottom.
“Much better. Now we’re ready for our big night out, or whatever it is we’re doing.” She stepped to the edge of the porch and swept her arm out toward the street. “Shall we?”
After grabbing my coat, I locked the door behind me and we crossed the driveway to my parked car. Neither one of us had wanted to drive in Manhattan on a Saturday night, so I’d offered to take us to the ferry terminal. Chris had assured us the club was easy to find once we crossed the Hudson, and the crisp autumn weather further solidified our decision to not sit in heavy traffic.
The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time we boarded the boat, yet the lights from the skyline still illuminated the area. Natalie opted to sit outside, and I followed her. “Can you believe I haven’t been back to the city since we first moved?” she said, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders. “There are some things I miss, such as the friends I don’t get to see as often, but other than that…”
I shifted on the hard plastic bench. “I like where we live, so you won’t get any judgment from me.”
“I think Chris was kind of hoping I’d hate it,” she said softly. The water lapped up against the ferry as we cut through the currents to the opposite side of the river. After a brief moment, her face brightened again. “He said the place they’re playing tonight is pretty cool. Much better than the cramped, dingy bars they started out in.”
“I’m looking forward to finally hearing the band play.” It wasn’t a total lie. Though not at the top of my list of preferred weekend activities, I had been curious about the performances of The Unnatural Remedies and was happy to accept Chris’s invitation.
We disembarked at our destination. “Do you want to take a cab from here?” I asked.
“They’re so expensive. Besides, it’s only a few blocks.”
I glanced down. “But your shoes…”
Natalie laughed. “I’ve walked a lot farther in much higher heels. But it’s sweet of you to worry.” She headed for the nearest crosswalk. “Come on, we don’t want to miss the beginning of their first set.”
The ever-present traffic hummed around us as I matched her stride, letting her lead me along the sidewalks toward the club. Streetlights bathed her face with their wan glow as her unrestrained hair bounced around her shoulders with each step. Her comfort with navigating the city streets, along with the outfit she’d chosen for the evening, gave me a glimpse of who she’d been before I met her during her quest for quieter, suburban life. I wondered if our outing would make her consider what she’d given up.
A line, though not a long one, formed outside the door at the corner of one block. As I prepared to stand at the end of it, I reached into my pocket for my wallet. “Whatever the cover is, I’ll take care of it.”
Natalie flashed me her most charming grin. “It won’t be necessary.”
She approached the bouncer near the door and, after a cheerful greeting, gave him our names. He consulted the list on the clipboard he held then beckoned us inside. “I should travel with you more often,” I said as we walked down a dark, narrow hallway. “It has its perks.”
A noise of exasperation left her lips, though traces of her smile remained. “Yeah, cutting the line and getting into nightclubs for free is such an enviable skill.”
“Well, it’s yet another skill of yours I don’t have, so I’m impressed.”
She delivered a playful shove to my shoulder as we neared the coat check. “I didn’t realize it was so important to you. I thought you spent all your time working hard and helping little old ladies who live next door.”
I took her jacket from her when she removed it. “I feel like I should take offense to what sounds like a scathing insult, but it’s so accurate, I can’t even be mad.”
I handed our outerwear to the employee behind the counter, collected the tickets, and then we continued down the corridor. It opened into a wide room, much bigger than I would have expected from the outside. Some of the band’s equipment was set up on the stage on the far side from where we stood, though none of the members were present. People milled around in front of the elevated platform, yet the dim, multicolored lights made it difficult for me to discern any of their features. “So, do you have a secret password to get us all the way to the front here, too?” I asked.
Natalie’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “No way. I’ve done this too many times, and I know by now not to bother fighting my way through the swarm of die-hard fans.”
“Sounds like it could be dangerous.” I chuckled.
“Probably not, but it’s not worth the effort.” She scrunched up her nose. “Besides, I think some of the regulars hate me,” she mumbled.
“Hate you?” I drew back to look at her, surprised. “How could anyone hate you?”
Her mouth pressed into a straight line. “Never mind. It’s not a good conversation to have while shouting over the noise anyway.” She gestured toward an illuminated area to our left. “Let’s go argue about who’s paying for drinks.”
The farther we got into the room, the louder the pre-recorded music became. I got to the bartender first and slid some cash in his direction as he uncapped two bottles of the beer Natalie had selected. “I take it these things rarely start on time?” I asked her.
“What?” she yelled back.
So much for interesting conversation inside the building. I leaned over and repeated my question closer to her ear. “Oh, who knows,” she said, waving her free hand. “At least there’s no one else playing, otherwise we’d really be here all night.”
We didn’t get far into our drinks before the lights flashed and the music stopped. The resulting cheer from the crowd almost drowned out the deep voice projecting from the speakers, and I only caught every other word of the band’s introduction. When The Unnatural Remedies took the stage, the screaming intensified. As I winced at the high-pitched noises, I was glad Natalie had suggested we keep our distance from the stage.
Chris greeted the audience with enthusiasm as he stood at the center microphone, the overhead lights glinting off his guitar as he turned from side to side. Another chorus of shrieks erupted when he and his bandmates played the introduction to their first song, yet their equipment was strong enough for the music to permeate the room. Matching Natalie’s stance, I leaned back against the edge of the bar. “Must be nice to be so popular!” I shouted to her.
She smiled and nodded, and I had no idea whether she’d heard me.
The first song segued into a second with little interruption. They sounded pretty good, I thought, enough that I wouldn’t bat an eye if I heard them on the radio. As I watched them on the stage, I noticed Chris undergo a similar transformation to what I observed whenever I listened to Natalie play the piano. This was his passion; this was what energized him and brought him happiness. Regardless of whether I ever attended another performance, I wished him and the rest of the band all the success they dreamed of.
Natalie set her empty bottle down on the bar. “Want another?” she said. “I got this round.”
While maybe not my favorite way to spend a Saturday night, I conceded there was something exciting about the live show and the general atmosphere at the club. “Sure, thanks.”
