Sonata for Springtime, page 6
I hovered behind her as she flagged down the bartender. As she dug around in her pocket for some money, a trio of women approached the bar from the direction of the crowd. Recognition flashed in one’s eyes, and she nudged her friends, jerking her chin toward us. One of them leaned over to whisper in her ear, not bothering to camouflage her obvious staring.
Despite the music’s volume, their giggles caught Natalie’s attention. She glanced at them and offered the group a tight-lipped smile as she paid for our drinks. No one said anything, but the titters of laughter resumed when she turned around to hand me my beer.
“It’s like I’m with a celebrity,” I said, taking the bottle from her.
“Oh, please. I’m not the one everyone’s excited to see.” She rolled her eyes, but then the corners of her mouth curved downward and I had to strain to hear her next words. “I hate it when they recognize me.”
“They’re probably jealous of you.”
She tossed her hair back and snorted. “Let’s not go down this road.”
The last powerful chords of the song faded away, dissipating into the cheers from the audience. Chris waited for the hubbub to subside then approached the microphone again. “All right, we’re going to slow things down a bit for our next song.”
Some members of the crowd loudly expressed their displeasure with his announcement. Laughing, he raised his hands as if in apology. “Hey now, you’ll still be able to dance with your friends, I promise. Besides, this is a very special song, written for a very special person.”
Natalie’s grip on her beer bottle tightened.
“Even though I can’t see her right now, I know she’s in here somewhere,” he continued. “So, babe, here’s one of those sappy love songs you always used to tease me about. I hope everyone else enjoys it, too.”
Softer, slower music emanated from the band’s instruments, matched by Chris’s soulful singing. From where I stood, I could see the dozens and dozens of enthralled faces turned toward him, captivated by his every note. Despite my limited knowledge of what made good music, I thought the song sounded nice. Hell, if I were engaged to a woman like Natalie and had the requisite skill, I’d be writing her all sorts of love songs, too.
The three giggling women hovered near the corner of the bar, their gazes flicking back and forth between the stage and where we stood. This time, their whispering and pointing was more obvious, enough that some other bystanders glanced in our direction. Sipping my drink, I snuck a peek at Natalie. She stared straight ahead, a forced smile plastered across her face as the music built toward the final refrain.
At the song’s conclusion, Chris grinned and ran a hand through his hair. “Thanks for indulging me,” he said once the crowd finished showing their appreciation. “What can I say, I’m a romantic at heart.”
A mixture of laughter and “awws” echoed from every corner of the room.
“But now it’s time to crank the tempo back up and get moving!” he shouted into the microphone. “I know you’ll love our next song, which is…”
I looked over at Natalie again. She was frozen in place, fingers still clutching the glass bottle as her eyes darted around. I followed her gaze but, thankfully, anyone who’d been paying more attention to her than the song had vanished. Before I could say anything, though, she whirled around and slammed her drink on the bar. “I’ll be back,” she mumbled and hurried off, slipping through the crowd.
I stood in our spot, shifting my weight from one foot to the other as I waited for her. She hadn’t returned by the time I finished my beer, and I turned in a slow circle, trying to spot her in the crowded space. After about five minutes passed, concern tugged at the back of my mind. Five minutes after that, I set out to find her, cursing the dim lighting in this corner of the room.
I wandered around, not venturing too close to the stage while trying not to bump into anyone or step on any feet. Out in an adjacent corridor, I found the line for the restrooms, where a brief, awkward inquiry produced no results. Backtracking to the coat check, I was finally pointed in the right direction, and I headed for the exit.
Outside, the temperature had dropped since we’d first entered the club. To my right, Natalie crouched on the sidewalk by the side of the building, her fingers tangled in her hair at the sides of her head. Some of her eye makeup was smudged, and she stared at a fixed point in front of her, even as I shuffled toward her.
“I thought it would be different,” she said without looking up. “Every time, I think it’s going to be different, and it just gets worse and worse.”
I didn’t answer.
“I can’t even read anything online about the performances I attend anymore.” She tucked her chin into her chest. “I’m not even on the damn stage with them, yet somehow, there are always comments about me. What I’m wearing, who I’m with, how I’m not pretty enough, how I don’t deserve him, what a bitch I must be. And they’re still nasty even when I don’t show up.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “They don’t even know you! Like I said back in there, it’s probably jealousy. They’re immature jerks who have nothing better to do than gossip about people they think they have some kind of relationship with because they like a band’s music.”
A strained groan rumbled from behind her knees. “You know what the worst part is, though? Sometimes I think they may have a point.”
“Natalie, you’re not—”
“Back when they were first starting out, I loved going to the band’s shows. Seeing new places, celebrating until dawn…everything was so exciting, and we were always so happy.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what changed. And here I am, with a fucking useless degree in performance, and I can’t even go out and play the one role I have, being the supportive partner.” Exhaling, she glanced up at me from behind her arm. “You must think I’m, like, the worst fiancée who ever existed. I can’t imagine I’ll be a much better wife.”
I swallowed. “You know I don’t think that.”
Muted strains of the music drifted toward us from the door. My feet remained glued to the sidewalk as the insistent rhythms emphasized the silence settling between us. I wanted to offer her some sort of comfort, yet I remembered the promise I’d made to myself—and others—not to get involved in Natalie and Chris’s relationship. Where was the line between being a good friend and giving her an honest opinion?
I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “If you don’t want to go back inside, you don’t have to.”
The side of her mouth twitched as she eyed me with skepticism. “Yeah, I do. Just give me a few more minutes to get myself together, and I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?” I scuffed my shoe along the pavement. “I don’t mind being your excuse. If Chris wants to think I’m a lightweight who can’t handle two beers, I’m okay with it.”
I finally succeeded in getting a tiny laugh out of her. “I wouldn’t want your reputation to suffer,” she said.
“All right, then.”
Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back against the wall, her hair tumbling down around her bare shoulders. I waited for a response, inching out of the way of some passersby and listening for a lull in the music. “Natalie?” I finally prompted.
Her chest rose and fell with a shaky breath.
It was the clearest answer I was going to get, I assumed. “I’ll be right back,” I said. “Don’t go anywhere.”
I dashed back inside, fishing our tickets out of my pocket as I traveled down the hallway. Once I collected our coats, I returned to her, not sure whether or not I should be relieved she hadn’t moved. Her head swiveled toward me as I approached, and I held out her jacket. “Here.”
Natalie climbed to her feet, and I instantly felt stupid for not offering to help her up. “Thanks,” she said, shrugging her arms into the sleeves.
We stood side by side for another quiet moment. I hesitated to force her into a decision, but I also didn’t want to spend the whole night on a dark sidewalk. “Uh…do you want to take a cab?” I stammered. “Or we could still go watch the rest of the show, if you want.”
She tugged at the open edges of her jacket. “We can walk.”
We made our way to the ferry terminal, the energy and enthusiasm that had accompanied our trip to the club noticeably absent. Upon boarding the boat, she climbed up the stairs to the upper level, despite the cool breezes blowing off the water. Past the railing, the full moon reflected in the murky surface of the river, the sky above never growing dark due to the glow of lights from the city behind us.
Neither of us spoke as the ferry rocked atop the gentle waves. Natalie shivered beside me, rubbing her upper arms through her leather jacket. My fingers flew up to the top button of my coat and I yanked it open. “Take this,” I said as I wriggled out of it.
“Oh no!” She frowned as she tried to push the coat away. “I wouldn’t want you to get cold.”
“It’s a short trip.” I pointed to the opposite shore. “And besides, while I may not be dressed as fashionably as you, at least my shirt has sleeves.”
She elbowed me in the side, but at least I got another smile out of her, as well as acceptance of my coat. As she draped it around her shoulders, she let out a lengthy sigh. “I’m sorry for ruining your evening.”
“You didn’t ruin anything.”
Her head drooped, the ends of her hair swinging forward. “But Chris was so thrilled you were finally coming to one of the band’s shows, and you seemed excited to go, and we had such a fun night planned, and—”
“Natalie.” I couldn’t prevent a chuckle from escaping my mouth. “Do you really think I’m upset about leaving the club early? I mean, I don’t want to shatter any images you may have of me, but that wasn’t exactly my scene back there.”
She twirled one loose wave around her finger. “You may have a point.”
“Look, I’m happy we went. I promised Chris I’d watch him and the others perform someday. The band sounded great, attending the show was something different for me, and parts of it were even fun.” Leaning back against the plastic bench, I scratched the side of my head. “But, to be honest with you, I don’t think I’ll be doing it again anytime in the near future.”
“Lucky you,” she murmured, so soft, I could barely make out the words.
“It won’t be a lie when I tell him how, overall, I had a great time tonight.” I inhaled, trying not to fidget in my seat. “Of course I’ll gloss over any details you want me to leave out.”
Natalie groaned but then straightened. “Thanks. If it’s okay with you, I’d just like to forget about everything I said before we left the club and pretend it never happened.”
I nodded. “Fine by me.”
She readjusted my coat around her body. “I’m glad you were with me tonight, and I didn’t have to be there alone.”
Guilt churned in my stomach, though I couldn’t pinpoint its precise source. I tried to keep my tone casual as the ferry pulled alongside the dock. “No problem. Don’t worry about it.”
Chapter Nine
I pushed open Mrs. Wilkes’s door with one gloved hand, the other wrapped around Rocky’s leash. “It’s getting chilly out there,” I said as I crouched to unhook it from his collar.
Once free, he raced over to where she sat on the couch and hopped up next to her. She ruffled his fur then turned back to me. “Can I make you some tea or anything?”
“No, thanks. I’m probably leaving soon anyway.” I peeked out her front window. “Thanks for letting me take Rocky out early today. I hope it doesn’t mess up your schedule too much.”
“You know what this weather does to my joints. You’re the one doing me a favor.” Without getting up from the couch, she fixed me in a critical stare. “Jonathan, are you sure this is a good idea?”
I met her gaze without wavering. “What do you mean?”
Mrs. Wilkes pursed her lips. “You going into the city with Natalie this afternoon.” She waved her hand in the general direction of the door. “It sounds an awful lot like a—”
“Her friend from college is having a piano recital,” I said, trying to maintain a neutral smile. “I may not be performing in front of other people any time soon, but I’m still trying to learn, so I thought it might be fun. Besides, Chris didn’t want to go, so I offered to drive.”
“Mm-hmm.” Her expression didn’t change. “You’re dressed very nicely.”
“It’s one of the same suits I wear to work every week.”
She resumed petting Rocky in long, gentle strokes, her eyes never leaving mine. We stared at each other for an endless moment until she finally let out an exaggerated sigh. “Have a good time,” she said, one eyebrow lifted a fraction of an inch.
“Thanks. I’m sure we will.”
I winced at the cold air stinging my face when I left. Before I could make my way back to my house to wait, I heard a door open and close across the street. “Hi, Jonathan!”
Natalie hurried over to my driveway. Her knee-length skirt extended a few inches past the bottom of her wool coat, but I didn’t want us to stay outside in the cold air any longer than we had to. “Good thing I got Rocky back inside when I did,” I said.
She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I was worried about traffic, so I didn’t want to be late.”
“I’m all set, so we can get going, and maybe we’ll be the first ones there.”
She flashed me a smile as I opened the passenger side door for her. After closing it behind her, I got in from the opposite side and started the car. “It’ll warm up in a minute,” I said, fiddling with the controls.
“It’s fine.” Loosening the scarf around her neck, she removed it and folded it in her lap. “I’m so excited to see some of my college friends again! I can’t remember the last time we all got together like this.”
I backed the car out of the driveway and navigated to the exit of our complex. “I’m looking forward to meeting them.” It wasn’t a complete lie, though I hoped it would be less awkward than some of the other events we’d attended together.
Natalie smoothed her skirt over her knees. “It’s funny. There’s always an element of competition when it comes to music programs, starting from the very first audition. But Giselle and I hit it off right away, and we never felt like we had to put each other down in order to build ourselves up.”
I glanced at the map display on the console and steered toward the highway. “I can’t imagine you engaging in any sort of backstabbing, cutthroat tactics to ensure you got a premiere spot in a concert or whatever.”
“Right? It’s not me. Or her.” A wistful smile crossed her face. “Aside from playing for each other and offering critiques, we also helped each other study for our other required classes, like music theory and history and all that other fun stuff.”
“It does sound a lot more interesting than most of the classes I took,” I said, chuckling. “This Giselle seems like a good friend to have.”
“Oh, she is! It’s why I’m so thrilled for her, and this recital.” She clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “I can’t believe she’s getting her doctorate! It doesn’t seem like it was too long ago that we were freshmen stressing about finals at the end of our first semester.”
“You know what they say, about how time flies when you’re having fun, and so on.”
“Something along those lines.” The corners of her mouth still turned up, she leaned back against the headrest. “All throughout those four years, we shared the same dreams. You know, the ones I confessed to you, about being world-famous concert pianists, hordes of fans flocking to see us as we toured and sold out shows…” She swiveled her head to look out the window, her next words barely audible. “I guess she wanted it more than I did.”
I swallowed, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel. “Hey, you’re young yet,” I tried to joke. “It could happen.”
Her shoulders shook when she snorted. “Yeah, sure. I’m old enough to realize now how it was all silly kid stuff.”
“I don’t think it’s silly.” I merged onto the highway and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw how the traffic was moving. “No better or worse than how I fantasized about becoming some hotshot litigator who everyone would want to hire, all while throwing handfuls of money in my general direction, of course.”
“At least you came a lot closer than I did.” Natalie fiddled with the scarf on her lap.
“And you’re a million times more talented than I could ever dream of, so how about we call it even?”
She turned back in my direction. “I may not believe it, but I appreciate what you’re trying to do.” A long breath left her lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start down this path, especially when we’re supposed to be having a nice day together. I don’t know why this always happens.”
My pulse thudded in my ears. “You know you can tell me anything,” I ventured.
Her fingers brushed against my arm, and it was all I could do to keep from swerving off the road. “Like I said, though, today’s supposed to be a fun day. And I am sincerely happy for Giselle and I can’t wait to hear her play for the first time in years.”
I forced myself to breathe evenly. “Tell me more about your other friends, the ones we’ll be seeing at the recital,” I said. “This time, I want to know what I’m getting into before I’m faced with a group of strangers.”
My tactics to divert the conversation to a more pleasant topic worked, and Natalie cheerfully babbled to me about her college adventures as I drove, content to listen to anything she wanted to share with me. The farther we progressed into the city, the worse the traffic and congestion became, yet we made it to her alma mater with a few minutes to spare. She directed me toward the parking lot closest to the recital hall, and I maneuvered into one of the few remaining spaces.
“I hope we’re not going to be late!” Natalie said as she increased her pace along the sidewalk.
I stayed by her side as she led the way toward our destination. “I thought all performances started a little late. Or is that just Chris and his band?”
