Storiesonline.net
-------

                                Opus One
                            by Ryan Sylander

Copyright© 2006 by Ryan Sylander


-------
Description: Richard, a talented young pianist, sets off for the Wexford Conservatory of Music.  Between lessons with his exacting teacher and fun times with two fellow musicians named Emily and Sandra, he discovers that music, friendship and love can lead to passions never imagined.  Supported by a cast of characters pulled straight out of the music world, these three aspiring performers find that the life of a musician is that of extremes: formidably challenging, and exceptionally rewarding.  Editor: pcb

Codes: MF FF Mult slow rom sch cons het exhib voy oral anal pett
-------

-------

Author Notes:

Opus One centers around Richard, an aspiring young pianist. With that goal in mind, he attends a music conservatory to study with one of the world's great pianists.

Opus One will deal with his first year at the school, his lessons with his exacting but passionate teacher, and his immersion into the competitive but rewarding life of a budding musician.

The setting is fictional, a music conservatory in an American city, and the characters are fictional as well, but I've tried to be true to the music world in terms of social atmosphere and descriptions.

This is not a stroke story. Yes, there is some sex, but that's not the focus most of the time. If you like reading stories where you feel something for the characters, or with them, then maybe this one's for you. That's what I'm going for, anyway!

Cheers!

Ryan S



Opus One: Reader Guide

-------

Act I

-------

Chapter 1: Praeludium



Richard cursed quietly to himself, as up ahead a trumpet player squeezed into a practice room Richard was about to claim for his own. The guy had materialized around the corner and beaten him to the room. He didn't even glance at Richard as he closed the door.

Dickhead. School hasn't even started yet, and already this place is a zoo, he thought to himself. He hefted his shoulder bag with a sigh and continued walking down the hallway past the occupied rooms. Musical fragments faded in and out of each other. Why do the oboe players have to practice in the rooms with pianos?

Up ahead, a door opened. Richard quickened his pace, holding open the door as a girl walked out.

"Thanks," she said.

"No problem. It's crazy trying to find a room here."

"Yeah, for sure. What do you play, piccolo?" she asked, eyeing his bag.

"No, piano," he answered. He didn't need to ask her, as she was carrying a French horn case.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said.

"Sorry? What's wrong with the piano?" Richard asked, surprised at her comment. Was she a brass snob, or something? he wondered. She's cute about it, though.

"Nothing, but ... You won't like this room." She looked apologetic.

Richard peeked around the door and groaned. It was one of the empty rooms. He hadn't yet learned which ones had pianos and which didn't.

"I'm Emily," she said, holding out her hand.

"Richard," he said, taking her palm in his. It was warm, and slightly damp. He figured he was sweaty too, and he hadn't even sat down to play yet. The rooms had no cooling, since vents would transmit sound from one room to the other too easily. Richard vaguely wondered how long summer lasted around here. The late-August humidity and heat permeated the building, and got trapped in the practice rooms where students would add their own heat. By late afternoon, as it was now, the rooms were almost unbearable.

But there was no other place to practice, being a pianist. Not exactly an instrument carried on the shoulder, or easily fit in half of a dorm room.

"Well, I better be going," she said.

"See ya," Richard said.

She squeezed by him in the narrow hallway. Richard closed the door to the room and then continued walking. He passed the three 'Piano Majors Only' rooms, but they were full, as usual.

Finally he found a room. He almost missed it, but then he noticed there was a gap in the patchwork symphony that played as he passed the doors. He backed up and peered through the small square window, and thankfully there was a piano in the room. And no oboe players.

Before he even sat at the bench, he was already feeling the prickles on his forehead, as sweat began to bead up. But there was nothing for it; he couldn't open the door and flood the hallway with his playing. He had his first lesson tomorrow morning, so ditching the practice was out of the question.

Richard stretched as he looked at the stack of music he had brought. He wasn't quite sure what he would play for her.

Should I choose the Liszt, go for impressive? Or the Beethoven? I think I play that one section really nicely. Or the Scriabin? She is Russian, after all.

Richard adjusted the bench and sat down, running his hands through his hair. He selected a book from the pile, opened it, and began his warm up routine as he ran the piece in his head.

-------

Three hours later, Richard was done. His throat was dry and his head was swimming. He hadn't drunk any water, but that was typical. Not many things could break him out of his concentration, not even a heavy thirst. Now that he had finished though, he realized his mistake and wandered out in desperate search of a water fountain.

The water tasted like a mix of concrete and chlorine, but he drank greedily anyway. He could almost feel the water soaking through him like liquid through a dry sponge.

When he walked back down the hall to collect his stuff, Emily was peering into his room. She didn't have her instrument with her, though.

"Oh, hey," she said, when she saw him. "I'm looking for my roommate. We were supposed to go eat dinner a half-hour ago."

"Who's your roommate?" Richard laughed to himself at his question. Not that I know anybody here yet.

"Sandra d'Arcy. Do you know her?"

"Nah, I don't," he said, with a shake of his head.

"All right, I guess I'll keep looking. See you later." She smiled and started to move past him.

"Uh, where are you going to go eat?" Richard asked.

Emily stopped right in front of him. Richard didn't back away, but she did slightly.

"I don't know, probably the Domino's pizza down the road."

Richard made a face.

"Yeah, I know, it's nasty," she said, "but it's cheap. Do you have a better suggestion?"

"No, I've already eaten there twice myself, unfortunately," he admitted.

Emily laughed. "Do you want to come?"

"Uh, sure. I think I'm done practicing. This room's an oven." Richard unconsciously wiped at his brow for the hundredth time that afternoon.

"Tell me about it."

"They should put in space heaters. It would probably cool the rooms off."

Emily laughed.

"Excuse me," said the trumpet player who had earlier beaten Richard to a room. He was walking hurriedly towards them.

"Hey, Jimmy," Emily said brightly.

"Oh, hey," he said blandly, squeezing through and hurrying off.

He's friendly, Richard thought to himself. He gave Emily a questioning look. She just shrugged wide-eyed.

"Let me get my stuff packed," Richard said, gesturing into the practice room.

"Are you in the dorm?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Cool. You want to meet in the lounge in twenty minutes?"

"Okay."

"I'll try to find Sandra meanwhile. Bring your roommate if you want," she added.

"Nah, he's not even here yet."

"Oh, all right. See you in a bit."

Richard looked after her as she walked off. I can get up in front of hundreds of people to play and not feel any nervousness; why do I feel a little anxious now?

Richard convinced himself it was his upcoming lesson with Ms. Tertychnaya that was weighing on him a little.

I'm ready, he reminded himself.

-------

Sandra d'Arcy was incredibly gorgeous. Not just cute, not just pretty, but gorgeous. When Richard saw her and Emily come out of the stairwell and stand in the foyer, it took him a few seconds to realize they were waiting for him. As he jumped up off the couch, he hoped they didn't notice he was staring.

"Richard, Sandra," Emily introduced. Richard started to move his hand out, then took it back, feeling awkward. Then Sandra started her hand out, and for a moment there was a silly arm dance as they tried to decide whether to shake hands. Finally they did, amidst some laughing.

"Shall we?" Richard asked, holding open the door to the dorm building.

The trio stepped out into the warm evening, walking in a line but not too closely. A group of people were playing a pickup game of soccer on the lawn. He thought he'd seen a few of the people earlier that day in the practice rooms.

"So what do you play, Richard?" Sandra asked.

"Piano. You?"

"Voice."

Figures,  Richard thought. She's too pretty to be buried in an orchestra pit.

"Cool," he said.

"Are you a first year?" Emily asked.

"Yeah, you two, uh, too? Also?" he asked.

They were.

"I hope this orientation stuff this week isn't too long," Richard said.

"Yeah, hopefully we don't have to do stupid games and stuff," Sandra said.

"Or sit through long meetings about common sense," Emily added. "If it's common sense, then why are they showing us? 'Lock your doors at night ... Don't let strangers into the building... ' Well, duh!"

"Yeah, I hate that stuff!" Richard exclaimed. "In high school we had these safety classes and they were so stupid. It was stuff for five-year-olds and shit."

Richard winced at having let out a bad word so soon, but the two girls didn't seem to be bothered by it.

"I mean, if you haven't learnt that stuff by now, you probably would have been kidnapped already," Sandra added.

"Weren't we supposed to get a schedule for the week?" Richard asked.

"Tomorrow afternoon at the first meeting," Sandra said.

"Ooh, I can't wait!" Emily said.

"Do we really have to eat at Domino's?" Sandra asked, as the blue and red sign came into view. She wore a grimace on her face.

"I vote for wandering the area and looking for something better," Emily said. "You guys?"

"Yeah, me too," Sandra chirped.

Richard hesitated for a moment. He didn't have much cash, and he had to stretch it out until the meal plan kicked in. That meant two more days of eating out.

"Uh, sure. As long as it's cheap. Otherwise I'll be starving the rest of the week until we hit the cafeteria."

"Eh, you'll probably starve there, too," Emily said. "I hear it's nasty."

"Yeah, Tapler Dining Hall." Sandra spat the words out. "They're under new management. Some hotel took over or something, but a polished turd is still a turd."

"Thanks, that's real appetizing, Sandra. I can't wait until Friday night," Emily said sarcastically.

"So where to?" Richard asked.

It feels good, being on my own,  he thought. His nervousness was gone. Maybe it wasn't the lesson.

"Let's go up that way," Emily said, pointing. "Looks like there's stuff there."

They crossed the street and made their way towards a section of shops.

"So where are you from?" Emily asked Richard.

"New York. The Bronx, actually."

"What's your accent? It doesn't sound like New York," Sandra noted.

Richard was surprised: most people couldn't detect it. But she is a singer, so she would be in tune with those things,  he reminded himself.

"I'm Italian," he said.

"Ah, parla Italiano?" Sandra said.

"Si, " Richard replied, surprise crossing his face.

"Bene, eccellente. Allora possiamo parlare e Emily non capira!"

Emily was watching the exchange, amusement on her face. "Hey, I heard my name! Great, now you two can talk about me and I won't know what you're saying!" she said dramatically, rolling her eyes.

"No, we won't do that. That's rude," Richard assured her. "But how do you know Italian?" he asked Sandra.

"I'm a singer, remember?" Sandra chided.

"Yeah, but, I didn't know you actually learn all the languages you sing."

"Well, I like to. Otherwise, how can you really understand the text?"

"True. I never thought of that," Richard admitted, nodding.

"But some singers don't. They just learn to pronounce the words, and they know what they mean, but don't speak the language."

"Hey, how about here?" Emily said, stopping suddenly and peering into the window of a small restaurant.

Richard glanced at the menu. The prices weren't exactly like cheap pizza, but they weren't too bad.

"Sure," he said.

Sandra shrugged and opened the door.

The aromas inside of Belinda's Café were enticing. The menu was eclectic: interesting sandwiches and salads, and then five or six cooked dishes that weren't the typical café food either. Emily suggested a booth, and Richard sat across from the girls. The server brought three waters with the menus.

"Anything to drink? We have a good wine selection," the waitress offered.

I guess she thinks we're old enough,  Richard thought to himself.

"Can we get the house red?" Emily asked without hesitation.

Sandra and Richard looked at each other. The server eyed the trio for a moment.

"You're all of age, right?" If she suspected otherwise, she kept it out of her voice.

I probably shouldn't have shaved back at the dorm,  Richard thought. The stubble always adds a few years.

They all nodded in agreement. The server smiled knowingly and went to get the wine.

"You do drink wine, right?" Emily asked quietly, when she had left.

"Yeah, of course," Sandra said. The two girls looked at Richard expectantly.

"Come on, I'm Italian. What do you think?" Richard said. "I make my own, even."

"Really?" Emily said, eyes flashing. "That's very cool!"

"Yeah, my family makes wine. We've done it every year since I can remember," he said. Richard let out a short laugh. "I had my own wine glass for dinner when I was twelve."

"That's awesome. I wish my parents had been cool like that," Emily lamented.

Richard just shrugged and smiled. Show off,  he thought to himself.

Their server brought and poured the wine, and took their order.

"Cheers," Emily said, holding out her wine.

"To new friends," Sandra said.

"New friends," Richard agreed. The three clinked their glasses together.

"I like this place," Sandra said, looking around. The dark wood paneling made the high-backed booth they sat in seem even more secluded.

"Yeah, too bad we'll be eating cafeteria food in a few days," Emily said.

"Ugh, I don't even want to think about that right now," Sandra groaned.

"So where are you two from?" Richard asked, changing the subject.

"Near Columbus, Ohio," Sandra said.

"Near the White House," said Emily.

"Is your dad the president or something?" Richard joked.

"Pfft, yeah right. My dad hates politics."

"Why does he live in Washington then?"

"Why do musicians live anywhere? That's where the job opening was."

"What does he do?"

"He conducts Baltimore."

Emily said it as simply as if he worked in retail or something.

"Your dad is Clark Rathbourne?" Richard exclaimed, eyes almost popping out of his head.

"Yeah."

"Jeez, that's awesome! Screw making wine ... That's really cool! His recording with Reston of the Tchaik piano concerto is in my top ten."

"Yeah, he's proud of that one too, though he'd never admit it," Emily said. "He takes himself way too seriously to admit it."

Richard looked at Emily in amazement. He always knew, vaguely, that music school would be a place where he'd meet some incredible musicians, but the reality suddenly hit him full on. I'm sitting across from the daughter of Clark Rathbourne, one of the country's top orchestra conductors.

"I'm just his daughter," Emily said dismissively, as if reading his mind. She looked a little uncomfortable.

Richard realized he was staring. "I'm sorry, of course. I didn't mean to make a big deal out of it."

"No problem. I get that all the time." She took a long drink of her wine.

Is she annoyed with me? Richard wondered.

"She gets tired of people talking to her about her dad," Sandra added. Emily rolled her eyes, but didn't dispute Sandra's comment.

Richard made note of that, and decided not to bring up Clark Rathbourne again.

-------

A few hours later, the server poured the last bit of the wine into their glasses. Richard opened the check she had set down.

As he looked through his wallet, he wondered about the wisdom of ordering the second bottle of wine. Paying for the entire meal was out of the question now, although he wanted to do so out of chivalry. He was buzzed, and thus feeling generous. Maybe I can just eat ramen the next two days.

The girls, meanwhile, had eyed the bill and each placed a twenty on the table. Richard vacillated for a moment, and then decided that he wouldn't even have enough for ramen if he footed the whole bill. It's not a date, anyway, dumb ass!

He placed a twenty down on top of theirs.

"Looks like it's Domino's the rest of the week," Richard lamented.

"Yeah, but this was way fun," Emily said. Her voice had gotten bubbly over the course of the second bottle. Any friction from the discussion about her dad was long gone.

"We should do this every week," Sandra agreed with a grin.

"Wouldn't that be cool?" Emily said.

"Whoa, hold up," Richard interrupted. "I have like fifty dollars left for the next two weeks, until work study kicks in."

"Fifty bucks? Heh, Domino's is right then!" Sandra said.

"Looks like we'll need a booth for two next time," Emily said, nudging Sandra.

"Hey, thanks a lot!" Richard cried. "So my family doesn't have a lot of money," he admitted glumly.

"Richard, we were just teasing you," Sandra said, patting his hand.

"Yeah, chill," Emily agreed. "I can spot you some cash until you start working. What are you going to be doing anyway?"

"I think front desk duty."

"Sounds real fun," Emily said sarcastically.

"Are either of you on work study?" Richard asked.

"Nah," Emily said.

"I am. I'm an usher for concerts. Sucks."

"Sucks? I'm going to be stuck answering phones for ten hours a week."

"And I'm going to be ushering cranky old lechers to their seats while they try to look down my blouse," Sandra complained.

Emily and Richard laughed.

She has a point,  Richard thought. Although I'd try and look down her blouse if I was an old lecher, too. Richard's eyes inadvertently dropped to Sandra's chest for a moment, before he caught himself and looked back at her eyes. Sandra was watching him with a smile. If she noticed his glance wandering, she didn't show it.

"Want to switch?" Richard asked. "You have a much better phone voice than me, I'm sure. And no one will want to look down my, uh, blouse. Not that I'd wear one," he added quickly.

The girls giggled.

"So you'd go topless?" Emily asked. Sandra let out another giggle.

Richard considered them for a moment. "Sure, why not?"

"That would be brilliant!" Emily exclaimed. She laughed wildly. "Maybe the whole usher staff should show up topless one night!"

Sandra smacked her arm. "Dream on! Easy for you to say, Miss I'm-not-doing-work-study!"

"Well, the guys at least should do it," she amended.

"Yeah, that's not going to happen. Brenda is the usher coordinator and I've heard she's a real dictator."

"Oh well, one can dream."

Emily held out her wine glass unsteadily over the center of the table.

"To topless ushers!" she said loudly. The people at the next table looked over with a mix of smiles and frowns.

"Shh!" Sandra and Richard admonished, as they clinked their glasses together. But they couldn't help laughing with Emily.

The walk home was noisy, but fun.



-------

Chapter 2: Offertory



Irina Tertychnaya mostly thought in English now. She wasn't sure when the change had happened. She found it amusing that in the twenty years or so that she had been at the Wexford Conservatory, she had changed her internal language, and yet her accent was as thick as the day she first stepped foot through the glass doors of the school. Marrying an American artist probably helped the change; she no longer spoke Russian other than the occasional chat with Yuri, the principle bassoonist of the orchestra.

There was not a significant Russian population in this city, and she was rather glad for it. She didn't need to be reminded of the horrors of her youth anymore. She had lived them. Once was enough.

She sighed. Late to the first lesson. Not a good start for Mr. Mazzini.

"Come," she said, leaving a few moments of silence between the rap on the door and her call.

A tall young man entered her studio. He looked like he had just woken up, and his eyes were a bit red.

"Will this time not work for you, Mr. Mazzini?"

"I'm sorry?" he said.

"You are late. If you prefer the afternoon, we can change."

The man looked at his watch.

"I'm sorry. Wasn't the lesson at nine?"

"Yes, Mr. Mazzini. It is two minutes after nine."

He looked a bit taken aback. Irina chuckled to herself. He won't be late again.

"I'm sorry, I was trying to find the alarm ... I mean, I was trying to find the room, and my alarm..." he stammered.

Irina waved him silent. "Play, Mr. Mazzini," she said, gesturing to the bench sitting in front of the worn black piano.

He looked at her for another moment, and then set down his bag on the floor. As he started taking out his music, she got his attention with a cough.

When he turned to her, she gave him a quick shake of the head, and gestured to the piano again.

He straightened up, and then sat on the bench. Irina watched his large hands work the rollers to lower the bench. He tried the height several times, finally getting the bench low enough. She took note of the position so she could have it ready for him in the future. It was the last time he would need to waste lesson time fussing with it.

He breathed loudly and deeply, and his hands shook slightly as he laid them on the piano. Then he began.

Irina smiled a little as he pounded out the opening octaves of a Liszt piece, Après un lecture du Dante. The piece was perhaps overly bombastic for starting his first lesson with, but he was young. She wasn't surprised at his choice. She had given enough first lessons to know how eager students were to impress her.

This time, she was impressed, although not by his choice of piece. He was the first person to play something different than what he had played at his audition half a year earlier. That pleased her; he had not stopped working after being accepted to the conservatory.

She listened carefully, and after a few minutes smiled again. He has impressive technique, but still has much to learn about music,  she thought.

He stopped once, a glitch in memory, and then went on. That didn't bother her. The piece was demonic in more ways than one. He might not have been expecting to play without music, although he should have been prepared.

After he played a few minutes of the first slow section, Irina stood. She watched his strong hands from over his shoulder, waiting for him to reach the return to the darker theme. It would be cruel to stop him in the middle of the climactic build up, so she waited until the tremolo which signaled the end of the euphoric dolcissimo section. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Okay, Mr. Mazzini."

He stopped almost reluctantly, and sat stone-still, looking at the keys.

Irina returned to her chair, crossing her legs. "Start again."

He looked at her, face drawn, and then turned to the keys again. After he played the first few bars, she stopped him again.

"Where is the melody?"

He thought for a moment, and then fingered the upper voice of the chords.

"I guess it's that," he said.

Irina stood and moved around to his left. She reached in to the keys, and smiled slightly as he shied away from her body as it brushed his shoulder.

Much to learn about life.

"What about this?" she said, playing the lower notes of the chords. "Or this?" She played the inner voice. Each moved with a different feeling.

"Uh, I don't know. Those are part of the chords, I guess?"

"Mr. Mazzini, in music you cannot guess. You cannot say, 'I don't know.'"

His complexion turned a little red.

"Play that for me again. Just the first phrase."

He complied, but she stopped him after the first few notes.

"No, Mr. Mazzini. Like you played before. With authority."

He took a breath and started again.

"Think about the melody you showed me," she said softly near his ear.

He played through the chords as before.

"No. I do not hear it. Play me the melody alone."

He played the six notes singly.

"Again. It must sing. Do you know who Dante is?"

He nodded. Again he played. This time he stopped himself and tried again.

"Yes, better. Now, play again, both hands. I want to hear the melody."

"Is that the way it should be phrased?" he asked.

"It does not matter right now. Play it how you hear it to be."

He started again.

"Again," Irina chimed, as he reverted to chords. "Melody!"

She smiled as he successfully transmitted the melody through the chords.

"Yes, that is good." Irina returned to her chair. "Riccardo, you play well."

He looked up at her, smiling ever so slightly. Was it at her use of his real name, or from the praise, she didn't know. She could tell he didn't think she was happy, but she didn't press the issue. She wouldn't often be telling him how well he played. Praise was a minimal motivator unless used judiciously.

"You play well, but you cannot guess," she repeated. "You must think about the music you play. Every note is important, or we would leave it out. But why is that note, or this note, important? That is up to you to decide. To interpret."

Richard nodded.

"Now, let us look at the other notes in the chords. Play the lower voice for me."

He has great potential,  Irina thought to herself. Of course he does, or I wouldn't have accepted him. The things I can teach him... 

-------

"I think she doesn't like me," Richard said.

"Did she rip you a new one?" Emily asked. She was sipping from a glass of fruit punch provided at the orientation session. I'm glad he came over to talk to me,  she thought.

"Maybe a few new ones. I got there a minute late, literally, and she was all over me for that."

"Well, first lesson ... I wouldn't get too depressed yet. There's plenty of time for that, later."

"Heh, right. We spent an hour and a half on just two pages of one piece. At this rate, I better start figuring out what'll be on my senior recital!"

Emily laughed. She was happy to have bumped into Richard the day before. She knew a number of people attending the school, through music festivals and summer orchestra programs. But pianists were not in that loop, being for the most part soloists. It was refreshing to talk to someone who wasn't constantly going on about how great Tanglewood had been, or what guest conductor had graced the stage at Spoleto. Or talking about her father. Richard had been gracious enough to let that go the night before, and she appreciated it.

"Where's Sandra?" Richard asked.

Figures,  she thought. The pretty ones have it so easy. She wondered if having Sandra as a roommate would make meeting guys hard. Will she just suck them away from me as they approach? But Emily liked Sandra enough that it wasn't a problem. For now, at least.

"She said she was going to be a few minutes late. She likes to make an entrance. Singers, you know..."

Richard chuckled. "Yeah. So what's on our schedule, then?" Richard studied the paper he had grabbed from the stack.

"A week of fun and games," Emily said acerbically.

"Art museum should be cool though," he said.

"True," she agreed.

"Dinner at the dean's house, bus tour of the city, tour of Crantz Hall, and a bunch of meetings. Fun."

"Common sense meetings, I'm sure."

"Yeah. Dorm safety, crap like that."

"All right, people!" cried the resident hall director. "Sit, please!"

"Should have saved some seats," Richard said, as the lounge couches and chairs quickly filled up.

The pair sat on the floor, leaning back against an end table.

"All right, let's go around the room. Introduce yourselves. Say your name, your year, your instrument, and what was the highlight of your summer. I'll start. My name is Joey. I'm a second year masters student in the bassoon department, and your dorm director."

Emily listened as the group of mostly first-years followed Joey's example. As expected, most tried to trump the previous speaker with their summer highlight.

"My summer highlight was attending a masterclass by Perlman..."

"I played a recital in the Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie..."

"Blah, blah, blah..."

"Emily Rathbourne, first year, French horn, and playing beach soccer every night was my summer highlight."

A slight titter rippled through the crowd. Richard looked at her with a grin and an approving nod. She was sure some people expected her to mention her father. Avoiding mentioning music altogether gave her some satisfaction.

"My name is Riccardo Mazzini," Richard said, dropping into rich Italian just for his name, "but people usually call me Richard. I'm a first year piano student, and let's see, I'm six-foot-two, so I would have to say my summer highlight was the long car ride here with my parents, stuffed in the backseat of an old Camry with all my junk."

The room laughed for a moment, and then quieted as the next person started.

"My string quartet toured Europe..."

Fun's over,  Emily thought.

Sandra arrived, and after teasing her for being late, Joey made a show of inviting her into the circle. He asked her to give her vitals.

"I'm Sandra d'Arcy, and I am in the vocal department."

"First year?" Joey asked.

"Yes."

"And your summer highlight?"

"My summer highlight? Hmm ... A bunch of pigs got loose from our farm and went into town. That was a fun afternoon."

Some of the crowd laughed, while some others looked at Sandra a bit funny.

Emily was sure the image of Sandra in muddy overalls chasing pigs around was in everyone's head at that moment.

She looked at the faces that weren't laughing. Some people need to lighten up,  she thought. She was glad to see Richard wearing a big grin.

-------

"So you play soccer?" Richard asked Emily as they waited for Sandra to come down to the lounge. It was a Domino's night, they'd all agreed.

"Yeah," Emily said.

"Me too. I saw a few people playing last night outside the dorm. Did you notice?"

"Mm-hmm. We should find out when they're playing again. I know a few of the people that were there, so I'll ask them."

"Cool, I'd be into that. Let me know."

Sandra arrived, late as usual.

"What's up, farm girl?" Emily said as they walked.

"So you really live on a farm?" Richard asked. He hoped he wasn't prying too much.

"Yes, it's true. I know, opera and farms don't go together much, but..."

"Well, why not?" he said. "Although I admit I wouldn't have guessed."

Sandra just shrugged.

"What do your folks do?" Emily asked Richard.

Richard hesitated slightly. Her dad is Clark Rathbourne. But then again, Sandra's dad is a farmer, so what difference does it make?

"Uh, my mom does some office work, and my dad is a painter."

"Is he famous too?" Sandra asked.

"No, he paints houses, not art."

"Oh, I see."

"Hey, we should ditch the bus tour tomorrow and go on our own tour," Emily said.

"Do you have a car?" Richard asked.

"No, but we can steal one," Emily said evenly. "How about that one there? A convertible, that would be fun!"

Richard frowned at her for a moment. Is she serious? he wondered.

"Kidding, dude. But we can take that train thing to get downtown. Make our own city tour. Do you like shopping at the mall, Richard?"

"I don't have any money," he reminded her.

"That's fine, I don't like shopping either. Let's just go hang out, see the sights, people watch, whatever."

"I'd go for that," Sandra said. "Are we required to do all these orientation activities, though?"

"Supposedly," Richard said. Thoughts of his scholarship disappearing for missing a bus tour flashed through his head.

"Eh, so what? What are they going to do? Kick us out of school for missing the 'How-to-tie-your-shoes' meeting? Ooh!" Emily said mockingly.

Richard and Sandra grinned. "Yeah, you're right. Let's do it," he said.

They stopped outside of the pizza place doors.

"Do we have to eat pizza tonight?" Sandra whined.

My thoughts exactly, but... ,  Richard thought.

"I have to," Richard said glumly. "I opened my bank account today, and I have to have twenty-five dollars minimum in it or they charge me like three bucks! That means I have even less to work with."

"Hey, I can spot you. Seriously," Emily offered.

Richard looked at her gratefully. She's an interesting mix of irreverent and caring, he thought.

"Thanks, but hopefully it won't come to that. Still, crappy pizza is on the menu, unless there's something better for less."

"I'm not eating at Burger King," Emily said.

"There's a Subway a few blocks that way," Sandra pointed. "But someone got food poisoning there last week, I heard."

"Mm, let's go there!" Emily chimed with fake excitement. Then she got serious again. "You know, we should buy some food and make a meal at the dorm. Isn't there a kitchen on the first floor?"

"Yeah, but it's not working. They were having problems with bugs. People leaving food out ... I thought of it already and asked Joey," Sandra said.

"Rejected," Richard said glumly.

"I have an electric kettle in our room," Sandra offered. "We have boiling water at least."

"Great, we'll have tea for dinner." Emily said.

Richard sniggered. "Or cup-a-soup," he added. "I lived on those for a while."

"That's cheap, yeah," Emily agreed, "but I'm going to wake up hungry at two a.m. if all I've had is chicken broth and earl gray."

"Fine, let's just eat pizza," Sandra conceded, pushing the door open while making a gagging sound.

"Is your roommate here yet?" Emily asked Richard.

"Yeah, he got here right after the meeting this afternoon."

"What's his name?"

"Jer. Short for Jeremy, I guess. Bass player," Richard said.

"Don't think I know him," Emily said.

"He seemed cool, but I only saw him for a few minutes as he was starting to load in."

"Could be worse. You could have gotten a brass player roommate," Sandra said evenly.

Emily elbowed her. "Or a singer. They drive you up the wall with their stupid warm-up noises."

"Noises?"

"Yeah, noises."

"Well at least I'm not drooling all over the place like your French horn does!"

"Ha, ha, very funny. I'll just make sure to sit on your bed from now on when I practice."

"Next!" cried the guy behind the counter, as if they were across the street.

"Dude, we're right here! Do you have to yell?" Emily scolded.

The guy just gave her a look as the three of them put in their order.

"To go," Emily said. "Let's eat at the park. Meanwhile, let's get something to go with it."

Emily went outside and Richard and Sandra followed her to the store a few doors down.

"Wait outside, unless you have IDs," Emily said.

Richard and Sandra shook their heads, and Emily went into the store alone. Shoot, I can't afford this,  Richard thought.

"I guess we're having wine again," Sandra said.

"Cool, I'm not going to complain about that. Except Emily's going to bankrupt me!"

Sandra laughed. "How was your lesson this morning?" she asked.

"Eh. A little rough. I'm not sure, actually. She said I played well, but then went on to correct just about every note I played."

"Is she really picky?"

"I guess. But she did say a bunch of stuff I'd never even thought of before."

"So you learned something, at least."

"Yeah, but I'm still not sure that she likes me much."

"Well, maybe you were just nervous."

"I was," he admitted.

Emily came out with a clinking brown paper bag.

"Right then. Let's see if the slices are ready."

They were ready, and soon the three of them were set up in a secluded corner of the park that was near the dorm. Emily pulled a bottle out of the bag, and handed it to Richard.

"Open it, will you?" she said.

"Uh, with what?"

"Don't you carry an opener?"

"No? Do you?"

She sighed. "Gotta be prepared, man," she said, as she pulled out her keys. A little corkscrew came together out of a tube.

"Here, let me see that," she said, taking the bottle. She made short work of the cork and then took a swig.

She offered the bottle to Sandra.

"What, no cups?" Richard jibed.

"Who needs them? Drink up. Cheers! Pizza's good too. For Domino's, anyway."

-------

Despite wanting to hang out with Sandra and Emily, after eating Richard went back to his dorm room to see if Jer needed any help. When he walked in, it looked like a bomb had gone off. Laying on Richard's bed like a pregnant whale was Jer's contrabass in its black case.

"Hey, Jer," Richard said, standing at the door. "Looks like you're settled in."

"What's up, Richard? Sorry my shit's all over the room. My folks had to drop and run. I should have it packed away in a few minutes. You need your bed right now? I can take my bass to the studio. Just haven't gotten to it yet."

"Nah, that's cool. Need a hand with anything?"

"Um, well, if you want to help, let's put the desk this way and slot the bed up like that," Jer gestured.

"All right, let's do it."

After Jer threw some stuff out of the way, they moved the furniture to its new position.

"Cool, thanks."

Richard sat in his chair and watched as Jer packed clothes into his closet. He was tall, lanky, blond, and energetic. And he had a ton of stuff.

"You know," Richard said, eyeing the piles on both beds and the rapidly filling closet, "I don't have much shit with me. If you want you can stash stuff in my closet. I won't need the whole thing."

"Serious? I think I brought enough for the whole dorm. My Ma was like 'Here, take this, take that, ' but I don't need most of this crap. I can live with just a duffel bag of clothes and my bass."

Richard laughed. He thought the truth was likely somewhere in between. "Well, I am serious. Feel free to put stuff in there, or under my bed. As long as it's not on my bed, I'm cool."

"Thanks, man. I'll see what I can fit in my half of the room first. Feel free to use the stereo, by the way. When I get it set up."

Richard nodded, glancing at the unnecessarily large tower speakers lying on Jer's bed. He wondered where they were going to end up.

"What'd I miss in that meeting today?" Jer asked.

"Nothing much. They gave out schedules and we went around the room introducing ourselves."

"Ah, I hate that crap. Glad I missed it. What else are we doing this week?"

"Here," Richard said, pulling the crumpled schedule out of his pocket and holding it out to Jer.

"Hmm. Bus tour. Better have AC on it. Fu-uck! Eight a.m.? Who scheduled that?"

"Yeah, it sucks."

Richard considered inviting him on the alternate city tour he was planning with the girls. But he's a bit spastic. Plus, I kind of like the dynamic I have going with Emily and Sandra right now,  he thought. I'll wait and see what happens.

"Art museum, eh, whatever," Jer said as he continued scanning the schedule. "Tour of Crantz Hall, that's cool. Have you been there?"

"No. Is that where the city's orchestra plays?" Richard asked.

"Yeah. Nice building. Who's Dean?"

Richard frowned and then realized what Jer was talking about.

"It's the dean, you know?" Richard said.

"Oh shit, right ... Misread it. I was like, who the fuck is Dean, and why are we eating at his house?"

This guy's a trip,  Richard thought with a grin.

-------

After about an hour, Jer finally finished stashing his stuff away throughout the room. He was an expert packer, and in the end he only needed to place a box of CDs in Richard's closet. Still, Richard wondered how long it would take for everything that was tucked away to diffuse back out into the room. As long as it's not on my bed... 

"I'm gonna wander the dorm," Richard said, "Want to come?"

"Nah, I got a lesson tomorrow morning. I'm gonna hit the bass studio and get some practice in. I haven't touched that bitch in a week."

I guess his bass is female,  Richard thought idly. "All right. See you later."

"Later, man," Jer said.

Richard took the stairs down to the second floor, and found Emily and Sandra in their room with the door open. He hadn't been to their room yet, but Sandra had told him the number at dinner.

"Hey, Richard," Sandra greeted. She was sitting on one of the beds.

"Look what Sandra has," Emily sang from the closet. She was rummaging through a box.

Richard looked at Sandra, who pointed to an appliance on the desk.

"What is it?" he asked.

"A steamer," Emily said, emerging with some plastic wine glasses.

"Like for rice?"

"Yeah, I forgot I brought it," Sandra said.

"So?" Richard asked.

"So, he asks," said Emily, closing the door to the room. "So no more nasty pizza this week! Wine?"

"Uh, sure. Okay, so now we have rice, tea, and cup-a-soup. If you just had some salt shakers, we could open a restaurant."

Sandra tittered.

"Funny," Emily replied evenly. "But the steamer will do more than rice. Vegetables, couscous, probably fish. Tomorrow we eat like queens," she announced dramatically.

"And king," Richard added, as he sprawled grandly in one of the desk chairs.

Emily scrunched up her nose and studied him for a moment. "Nah, you're too scruffy to be a king," she said.

"Oh really." Richard absently felt his stubble.

"Yeah. Look at the way you're sitting! You're more like ... a stable boy."

"Stable boy! How's that?" Richard protested, as he sat up straighter.

"Come on, that's a compliment. That's where the real action is. The stable boy gets all the action." She winked at Richard, leaving him slightly flustered. Sandra just watched with a grin.

"So tomorrow," Emily continued, "we'll go to Times Market and get some real food."

"Where's that?" Richard asked.

"Just a few blocks past the Domino's, where we can laugh in their window as we pass. Times Market is an all-natural hyper-healthy food store. You know, they even have organic aluminum foil."

Richard and Sandra laughed.

"How do you know all this?" Richard asked her.

"I've been here for over a week. I got here early and stayed with my teacher until the dorms opened up. A few times I got tired of practicing and wandered here and there."

"How's your roommate, Richard?" Sandra asked.

"He seems cool. A bit of a spaz, but cool."

"Is he coming on our city tour?" Emily asked.

"I didn't ask him yet. Should I?"

"He's your roommate. Do whatever you want," Emily offered. "I think I'm going to invite mine. Sometimes she smells like pigs, though, so maybe not."

"Emily, what the fuck?" Sandra grabbed a pillow and smacked Emily on the back.

"Look, you made me spill my wine!" Emily exclaimed. She was frozen in place, frowning at the red spot on the white rug.

"Oops," said Sandra, though she obviously wasn't too sorry. Her face tried desperately to conceal its smile.

Emily quickly put down her wine and grabbed the pillow from the other bed. For a minute there were shrieks and yells, and then Emily called truce. The girls composed themselves, making faces at each other.

"What are you looking at, stable boy?" Emily suddenly said to Richard.

"Wh-what?"

"Put your tongue back in your mouth. Haven't you ever seen two girls have a pillow fight?"

"Um..."

"Didn't think so," Emily said. "Next time don't be such a wuss. Pick sides and join in. Spectators need not apply here."

"Um, all right."

"So, let's leave for the city tomorrow at eight," Emily said, fixing the wisps of her hair that had been displaced.

"Eight?" Sandra groaned. "Why so early?"

"I want to go to the art museum in the afternoon."

"We can just do that on our own too," Richard suggested.

"Nah, then we have to pay admission. Let's get in with the group and then we'll do whatever we want."

Richard conceded the point. "All right, that makes sense."

"Actually, let's meet over at Buck's coffee shop at eight, otherwise we'll be seen. We don't want to get dragged on the real tour by Joey. Then we can catch some breakfast and head out."

"Cool," Sandra said.

Emily refilled their wine glasses. "Scrabble, anyone?" she asked.

"Scrabble? What is this, a library?" Richard asked.

"Trust me, it's much more fun when you are drinking."

"If you say so."

Emily got the box out of her closet and spread the game out.

"Lowest letter goes first."

Emily won with an F. Everyone drew letters. Then Emily let out an evil laugh and put two fists in the air. She put down P-U-M-P-I-N-G.

"Oh, I forgot to say, double points if the word is naughty. Let's see, six, seven, ten, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, seventeen, double word score for the center square is thirty-four, double for a naughty word is sixty-eight, and fifty for the bingo is one-eighteen!"

For a moment Richard and Sandra just stared. They were still fussing with their letters, and already they were over a hundred points in the hole.

"Wait, how is that naughty?" Richard protested.

"Richard, if you have to ask, then maybe you shouldn't be playing," Emily said with arched brow.

"But then anything can be naughty!"

"Um, no, I don't think... 'piano' is naughty, for example." She gave Richard a challenging look.

"Why not? You can do it on one," Richard said. Oops, maybe I shouldn't have said that.

"Oh really? Is this from personal experience?" Sandra prodded.

"No." Richard felt his face heating up.

"Okay, okay. Here are the rules," Emily said. "If you claim double score and the word is questionable, you need to explain how it's naughty. In the case of 'piano, ' I'd say you will need to have personally used a piano in a way it wasn't necessarily meant to be used."

"All right, fine."

There was a pause. Then Emily spoke again.

"Do I need to explain 'pumping' to —"

"No, I'm good," Richard said quickly. "Sandra, your turn,"

Emily grinned.

Sandra put down P-I-G-S-T-Y. "Twenty-four."

"I really hope you don't claim double score on that," Emily said.

"Eew, that's gross, Emily."

"Richard. There's still an open P if you want to put down 'piano.'"

Richard rolled his eyes and then turned them back to his letters.

He thought for a while. Actually, he had a word, easily naughty but low scoring. But dare I put it down? he wondered.

Finally he threw caution to the wind. P-E-N-I-S.

"Eight, and double for naughty is sixteen. Do I need to explain it?" Richard asked sarcastically.

"Sure," Sandra said.

"Heh, heh, Dick put down penis!" Emily giggled.

Richard and Sandra groaned.

"Okay, check this out." Emily put down S-U-C-K on the end of P-E-N-I-S.

"Eleven times two is twenty-two."

Richard laughed and downed the rest of his wine. The game was already out of reach, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to be fun playing it.

-------

Emily cleaned up with 430 points, including another impossible bingo by attaching N-I-C-A-T-E-S to the end of F-O-R. Richard and Sandra both vehemently rejected Emily's request for another game. Sandra instead turned the overhead lights off and switched on a dim lamp in the corner.

"This wine is harsh, sorry. My head is all tight," Emily moaned.

"Really? I thought it was pretty good," Sandra said, as she plopped down on her bed.

"Yeah, maybe it's all right," Emily said. "I probably got dehydrated practicing today, though. These practice rooms suck the moisture right out of you."

"Come here," Richard said to Emily.

"What?"

"Lean back against the chair. I'll give you a head massage; it'll make your head feel better."

Emily shrugged and scooted over to sit back between his legs. His fingers worked through her hair, gently moving her scalp back and forth. After a few minutes, she began to feel waves of pleasure radiating from her head down through her body.

"Sandra, you have to try this! Richard's amazing. Must be the piano hands."

"Or all that work in the stables," he said.

Emily turned and looked up at him with a pleased grin as Sandra laughed loudly on the bed.

"Okay, I'm next," Sandra said.

Richard worked on Emily for a good while, leaving off with some delicate touches.

"Mmm, thanks. I'm ready to sleep now."

Emily crawled away and climbed into her bed as Sandra came over and sat in front of Richard. He began the same routine he had given Emily.

"Isn't he great?" Emily asked.

"Yeah, this is great, Richard. You shouldn't have done this; now you're just going to be giving me and Emily head massages the rest of the year."

"I could think of worse things," Richard said softly.

Sandra patted his leg at the compliment.

There was a deep quiet for a while as Richard worked on Sandra. He focused his body energy into his fingers and caressed them through her thick hair.

"That was really nice, Richard," Sandra said, as he trailed off. "Thanks."

"No problem."

"Emily was right. I'm ready to sleep now too."

"I'm getting tired myself," Richard admitted, although he didn't want the evening to end.

Sandra got up and stretched. Then she grinned and pointed at Emily, nudging Richard. Emily was breathing deeply with eyes closed, curled up on her covers.

Richard smiled, and then whispered to Sandra. "See you at eight at Buck's. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight!"

He climbed the stairs to his room, feeling tired, but elated. Jer was sleeping when Richard went in, so he pulled his night clothes and necessaries from his closet, and got ready in the bathroom.

He was just pulling the covers off his bed as Jer stirred.

"Oh, hey man," Jer said groggily.

"Hey, just getting back in."

"What time is it?"

"One-thirty."

"Cool. What were you up to?"

"Just hanging out."

"Yeah, me too. Met up with an old friend and she had some bud. It was cool, but I'm fucking dead tired from the car ride today."

"Yeah, nothing like sitting in the backseat of a vehicle for hours," Richard agreed.

"True."

"Hey, me and a couple of girls are going to skip on the tour tomorrow and go downtown on our own. You want to come?"

"Uh, sure, what time?" Jer asked.

"Eight."

"All right, wake me up," Jer said.

"Cool. See you in the morning."

Richard didn't fall asleep for a while that night.



-------

Chapter 3: Scherzo



Seven-thirty came too soon. Richard fumbled for his alarm, at last silencing the wretched noise.

He was about to doze off when he remembered the morning plans, so he sat up quickly before he lost the battle with the snooze button.

Jer wasn't in his bed. Weird. He doesn't seem like the early rising type, Richard thought. Bathroom?

After Richard showered and put on some clothes, Jer hadn't returned, so Richard just left a note saying that he had to take off.

Richard hurried down the stairs and almost walked out into the lounge by habit, when he heard the clamor of the assembled first-years through the stairwell door. Oops. He turned and went down the hall to the side exit.

The morning was a little cool, which was welcome after the two stifling days that had come before. As Richard walked to Buck's coffee house, he checked his watch. It was just after eight. He wondered if Sandra would be late.

When he got to Buck's, the girls were there. They were standing idly by the door.

"Ah, there he is. Your teacher was right, you are late," Emily chided.

"Well, you can take your late and..."

"And?" Emily challenged.

"What's good here?" Richard asked Sandra, ignoring Emily's look.

"Never been here," Sandra said.

"Iced mochas, the croissants are great, good tea selection," Emily said.

The trio ended up with three iced mochas and three croissants. Down to two dollars in the wallet,  Richard thought ruefully as he pocketed his change. He already had broken the twenty-five dollar barrier in his bank account, too. Luckily the meal plan starts tomorrow.

"Where's your roommate?" Emily asked Richard as they walked.

"I have no idea. I asked him last night if he wanted to come, and he said to wake him up. But he was already gone when I woke up."

"Oh well, his loss," Emily said.

"I'm guessing he forgot. When I got back last night he was stoned and half-asleep."

Emily chuckled. "Ah. Then I'd say he'll never remember you even asking."

"So how are we getting downtown again?" Sandra asked.

"There's a train that goes in. There's a stop just a few blocks past that place we ate at the other night."

"And what's the plan for today?"

"No plan. Let's just be vagrants," Emily said. "As long as we're over at the museum by one, we should be fine to get in with the group."

They walked the few blocks to the train stop, and climbed the stairs to reach the platform.

"How much does this thing cost?" Richard asked suddenly as the train approached.

"I don't know, probably a buck fifty."

"Great, I can get to town, but I can't get back! I didn't get money out this morning, and I just have two dollars and change on me."

"I can spot you, don't worry," Emily said.

"And there's probably an ATM downtown, since you might want to eat," Sandra added.

Richard nodded. The train came soon, and they boarded and paid the fare.

"A dollar and seven cents," Richard said, as they sat in some seats. "That's just enough for gum at lunch!"

The girls laughed.

"Seriously. First thing, let me hit the ATM," he said.

-------

The train went fairly quickly, stopping about every twenty blocks. In ten minutes they were at the terminal downtown.

"This is actually pretty neat, for getting into town," Sandra said.

Emily and Richard had to agree.

An ATM was right in the foyer of the terminal, so Richard went over to use it. Sandra watched him as he pressed buttons. Taking longer than usual to get ten dollars out, she thought. Emily was over getting a city map from the information booth.

Finally Richard finished and came over to Sandra.

"This sucks! I can't get my money out."

"Why not?"

"I have eighteen dollars in there, and the machine only lets you take out in twenties. Arrgh!"

"That does suck!" Sandra said, but she couldn't help laughing. Richard's dwindling cash was a source of amusement for the three of them now. Although he was a little sensitive about it that first night,  Sandra remembered, and choked off her laugh.

Emily returned. "Ready?"

"I guess. I may have to take you up on that offer to borrow some cash, though."

He related the situation to Emily.

"But wait!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Here, let me borrow ten dollars for a couple of minutes," he said to Emily.

"A couple of minutes?" Emily asked doubtfully. "Are you going to beg for money on the corner to pay me back?"

Sandra giggled.

"No, but I will pay you back in a couple of minutes if you let me borrow a ten," he insisted.

Emily shrugged and pulled out the bill. Richard took it and went back to the ATM.

What the hell is he doing? Sandra wondered.

Emily and Sandra both burst out laughing as they watched Richard seal up and deposit the ten dollars into his account, and then withdraw a twenty from the ATM.

He came over, holding the bill triumphantly and grinning ear to ear. Pretty slick, and pretty funny,  Sandra thought, laughing.

"Desperation," Emily said, chuckling and shaking her head. "Just for that, I'll let you keep the ten dollars."

"No way. I'm paying you back. I just need to get some change." Richard was looking around for a place to split the bill.

"Richard, it's fine. Just pay me back later, then. Let's go have fun! We don't need to waste the morning with dubious banking transactions."

Richard relented, and thanked Emily.

Sandra could see the attraction between them, and smiled. But he's given me some looks too,  she thought idly. Has he noticed mine?

Richard caught her staring at him, and grinned at her. Sandra grinned back, and the trio went out the double glass doors and into the city.

-------

The morning was a riot. Emily led them throughout the city, refusing to relinquish the 'priceless and rare' map she had paid a quarter for at the terminal. She had also bought a cheap, black beret at a costume store they passed, and she was the tour guide. She made up crazy stories about what this building was for, or what had happened on this corner in 1845.

The icing on the cake came just as they had sat down on a shady bench at a busy intersection. They had gotten three hotdogs and three cokes, and it was almost time to take the train back to go to the art museum. The beret was staying behind to adorn the top of the bench post.

The day had gotten hot after all, but the shade and cold sodas were the perfect foil for the midday sun. As they ate, Sandra suddenly pointed at the street with mouth full and eyes wide. Richard and Emily didn't notice her as they talked.

"Holy shit, look!" she managed, finally swallowing her food.

Emily and Richard looked up. Stopped at the light was a school bus, and sitting inside were the familiar faces of the Wexford Conservatory first-years. The three of them watched as their miserable looking peers peeked out at them. The windows on the bus were all open, and everyone looked hot and bothered. Some of them smiled and pointed out at the three truants, and a few faces appeared over the shoulders of those at the windows to see what the commotion was.

Some smiled, others didn't. Emily noticed the same ones who didn't smile now hadn't smiled at Sandra's pig story. Some people, Emily thought.

Then the light turned green, and the bus was gone. Richard, Sandra and Emily, who had been trying to keep a straight face as the bus riders looked on, now laughed so hard that Richard dropped his soda onto the concrete with a splatter of plastic and sizzling liquid. Sandra had to grin as Emily passed him her cup to share.

"I wonder if Joey saw us from the bus," Richard said.

"Who cares?" Emily retorted. "Did you see the look on their faces? That was worth the whole orientation bore right there!"

"I bet Joey didn't know we were a stop on the city tour!" Sandra said.

Richard laughed, and let go of his anxiety over being seen.

"To the art museum!" Emily exclaimed, as they tossed their cups out and made their way back to the terminal.

-------

The Wexford Conservatory of Music was situated on the campus of Sheridan College, a small liberal arts school. The two were separate entities, although the conservatory students used some services that the college provided, such as the cafeteria, access to non-music classes, and the campus bus system. The dorm in which the music students lived was for Wexford students only, and a mere thirty yards from the two music conservatory buildings.

Sheridan College and the Wexford Conservatory were nestled in the arts district of town, an area which also supported the city's art museum, the symphony orchestra hall, a few large parks and gardens, and a decent sampling of nice restaurants.

The art museum sprawled over a large section of the arts district. It was a classical building at one end, complete with grand frontage and columns, attached beautifully to a modern architectural masterpiece on the other end, a wildly curved concoction of silvered metals and concrete.

"That's a crazy building," Richard remarked as they approached the modern entrance. There was a group of music students congregating off to one side, so they made their way over to meet them. Richard looked around for Jer, but he wasn't in the group. A few people whispered as they saw the trio approach.

Joey, the resident director, spotted them and walked over.

"Decided to join us, I see," he said with a smirk. He mostly talked to Sandra, Richard noticed.

"Yeah, we got up a little too late for the real tour," Sandra said, smiling innocently.

"I see," he repeated. "Are you coming on the museum tour, or making your own way again?"

Sandra just shrugged. Joey chuckled, shook his head, and turned back towards the group.

"All right, let's go people! Line up!" he yelled.

"I think this guy was a camp counselor for way too long," Richard whispered to Emily. She sniggered and nodded as they filed into the museum.

-------

As soon as they entered the museum, Emily, Sandra and Richard broke off and headed in a different direction than the others. The museum was organized roughly chronologically, Emily announced. She had again secured the map for the afternoon. The way they were going to walk, they would see everything backwards in time.

"Ooh, is that safe?" Sandra said with pretend fear.

"Why not? They recommend going clockwise, so let's go counter."

Richard shrugged when Emily looked at him. "I don't care," he said.

"Modern first, then," she said, leading them into the first (or last?) gallery. "You see, this way we can start with the coolest stuff and just leave when we're bored or hungry."

"The coolest stuff? You like modern art more than the classics?" Sandra asked.

"Well, sure. Some of it is junk, but there's some really powerful modern art."

"But there's powerful art from all periods," Richard argued.

"I agree," Emily said. "But see, most of the older stuff has withstood the test of time. People have thrown it up on the wall, and what we see now is what has stuck. But with modern art, it's fresh. The stuff is still goopy, dripping down the wall. No one knows what will still be great in a hundred, a thousand years. You are seeing art, before it becomes art history."

Sandra and Richard smirked at each other behind Emily.

"I saw that," Emily said.

The pair laughed.

"All right," Richard said, "but the stuff that has withstood the test of time, it is great. Why do you want to filter through junk — like this piece here?" Richard pointed at a gaudy construction of metal fragments from 1950's American advertisement. The piece sat in the middle of the room. "I mean, this is a pop culture nightmare."

"I like it," Emily said.

"Seriously?" Sandra asked.

"No, not really. This probably won't stick to the wall in a hundred years."

"God, it's awful. I'd like to throw it against the wall," Richard said darkly.

"The alarms will probably go off," Emily dismissed. She looked suddenly to a painting. "Ah, but this. Look at this here. It's fucking brilliant."

An elderly couple looking at the next piece over gave Emily a scowl.

"Look at the interplay of the lighting and the paint," she continued, ignoring the look. "That's neat."

The painting was a texture, really, like someone had added color on a canvas at random. But it wasn't quite brushed on, or scraped on, or dripped on. More like it was willed on, one molecule at a time. The whole piece looked like it was painted inside of pieces of shiny glass.

Running throughout the work were blue veins of luminescent paint, almost looking like hypoxic blood flowing through folds in paper. Towards the top center, the painting glowed with a radiant orange burst, like it was translucent and illuminated from the back.

"What is it, though?" Sandra asked.

"It's not," Emily answered. "But it's beautiful. I mean, look at the orange glow in the center. Is that the way it's painted? Or is the whole painting exactly the same, and it's the light that brings out the orange glow just where it shines?"

Richard and Sandra considered the painting more closely.

"I see what you mean," Richard suddenly said. "If you turned the spotlight off, the whole thing would be the same colors and texture, like in the corners, I think."

Richard stretched and tried to wave a hand in front of the light. He went a little too far past the barrier, and an alarm sounded for a few seconds before Richard backed away. The elderly couple left the room after offering another ignored glare.

"Good one, Riccardo," Emily said, chuckling.

"Oops."

A museum docent came into the far end of the room to check on the infraction.

"Hi," Emily called out to him. "Sorry, my friend here has trouble following the rules."

Richard glared at her.

"I have a question about this painting, though," Emily added.

The docent came over. "Yes?"

"What happens if you turn off the light?" she asked.

"Ah. Indeed, you are asking if the glow is painted on, or just lit?"

"Well, yes. I'm sure you know the answer. But can you turn out the light?"

Richard grinned at Emily's command. The docent smiled.

"Yes, I could do that." He walked over to a lock box on the wall and keyed it. A moment later the spotlight on the painting started to dim. The trio watched the orange glow slowly recede as the light turned off.

The painting was now a dull gray, blue and orange abstraction. There was no more orange in the center than anywhere else. All the life was gone; it was just some muted colors on the wall.

The lights slowly faded back on, and the painting's glow turned on with it.

"Cool," Richard said.

The girls agreed.

"It's an Asian technique," the docent explained, returning to the group. "The artist uses oil, Chinese ink, pigments and rice paper on the canvas. A time-consuming process, and only learned after decades of practice. There can be hundreds of layers of painted rice paper stretched over the canvas."

"Whoa. Is that what gives it the glow?"

"Yes, the layering and the oil give it that translucent quality, which really reacts well to lighting."

"Thank you," Emily said. He nodded and wandered off.

"That would stick on the wall for me," Emily said as they continued through the contemporary wing.

"Pretty awesome," Richard agreed.

"It is cool, but it's too abstract for me," Sandra said. "I like knowing what the painting is."

"Well, here you go then," Richard said as they stopped in front of another painting.

"God, no!" Sandra exclaimed. "That makes me want to kill myself."

"You said you liked paintings where you know what it is," Richard reminded her.

"Yeah, but this is like a painting of the end of the world," Sandra said.

The canvas was a bleak depiction of a some old railroad tracks leading to the horizon of an acidic sky. The muted gray paints and almost plaster-like textures, accented by violent burn marks and cuts, were desolate beyond description. The painting was at once gripping and repulsive.

Nothing was said for a long time as the trio studied the haunting work.

"You know, as depressing as this is, I can't stop looking at it," Emily said.

Richard and Sandra murmured.

Finally Emily broke the spell. "Come on, let's see what's in the next room."

"Here, that's more like what I like," Sandra said, pointing at a canvas.

It was a famous painting, a colorful depiction of some vaguely nude figures dancing behind a vase of flowers.

Sandra took Emily's hand and moved into the pose of the dominant figure, the graceful step of a dancer circling to the left.

Emily looked at the painting, and imitated the posterior figure, more angular than Sandra's persona.

"You know," Richard said, moving to take Emily's position from her, "that looks more like a male to me."

"So what?" Emily said as she shooed his hand away. "They're also nude. And Sandra is blonde. And we don't have any flowers. And..."

"All right, all right. Here, I'll be the disembodied arm on the right there."

Richard took Emily's free hand and stretched out away from her. The three looked at the painting, then at each other, and finally laughed.

Emily didn't let go of Sandra or Richard's hands as she pulled them onwards.

-------

The museum was closing in fifteen minutes. The trio were buried deep in the Romantic wing, imitating any and all paintings and sculptures involving interesting poses.

They were facing a marble statue. None of them were looking at each other, but all three of them were grinning slightly.

"Okay, moving on," Richard said, and started off.

Emily grabbed his arm. "What's wrong?" she teased.

"Um, that's a great sculpture, but I'm done looking at it."

"But we haven't posed it!" Emily said.

Richard met her defiant stare.

"We can't do that here!" he said in a quiet but urgent voice. "Look, there are cameras watching us."

"Most of those are fake, I've heard," Sandra said. Richard was slightly surprised to hear her arguing in Emily's favor.

"Whatever. At least one is real," Richard protested.

"So? We're not doing anything wrong," Emily said.

"Come on, I bet the security guards could use a good laugh." Sandra added.

Well, if she's game, then I guess I am,  he thought.

Richard shrugged and looked at the statue again. Three figures. Each was a woman. That didn't bother him, he'd already played the part of a woman countless times in their poses that day. But their positioning and touches took on a whole different meaning if played by a man.

"All right, but if that docent comes by again, I'm telling him it was your idea!" Richard said to Emily.

"At this point, if he comes by again, we're going to use him in the pose and you can just watch," Emily replied, making a face at Richard. He laughed as his tension melted away.

"So, who's in the middle?" Sandra asked.

No one said anything as they imagined the options.

"I'll be in the middle," Richard said. It seemed the least ... intrusive.

"All right, stand like her."

Richard look at the woman, and stood with his legs slightly apart, waist twisted and back bent some.

Sandra then stood behind him, sweeping an arm over his shoulder and clasping her hand to his ribcage. Her other arm wrapped around his stomach. She's really holding me tight,  he thought.

"I'm barely tall enough to reach," she said.

Richard glanced down and noticed she was on tiptoes.

Emily then knelt in front of Richard, wrapping her arms around his waist and clasping them behind his lower back. She pressed her head against his upper thigh.

They held the pose a bit unsteadily for a moment. Richard felt a tingle go up his spine as the two girls hugged and pulled on him. I wish I could see this pose.

"We should have brought a mirror, damn it!" Sandra said, echoing his thoughts.

Emily laughed, and shifted slightly, pushing on Richard.

"Wait, whoa!" Richard yelped as he lost his balance. He stepped back, got caught up on Sandra's leg, and fell. Luckily Sandra still had him in her arms, and he landed lightly on his butt. Sandra laughed wildly as Emily tried to untangle herself from Richard's legs. She had somehow gotten caught up when he was trying to regain his balance.

When Emily finally extricated herself, the trio were laughing uncontrollably.

"Shh!" Richard admonished, but he couldn't even control his own laughter, let alone the girls'.

Finally they composed themselves. "Shit. That was funny. Is anyone hungry?" Emily asked.

"Yeah, starved," Sandra said.

"Me too. Let's go buy some food. At this rate we'll be lucky to eat by eight," Richard lamented.

"That's all right, we can get something to snack on first," Sandra said.

"We only got through a fourth of the museum," Emily said. "So much for leaving early."

"I guess we'll have to come back," Sandra said.

"Yeah, and pose with the docent next time," Emily agreed.

"Hey!" Richard protested.

Emily just smiled at him with her eyes, and then turned and headed for the exit. "Come on, I'm hungry!"

-------

"We should model for an art class," Emily said, as they served up the rice, vegetables and cup-a-soups. Emily had bought a half-dozen bottles of wine as well, and they were through the first one already.

"Right," Richard answered.

"I'm going to take art this semester," Emily continued. "Life drawing is part of the course. Maybe I can get us in the modeling loop."

"That's just what they need, a bunch of amateurs falling on their asses and laughing every minute," Richard said.

"Hey, we only did that once," Emily said. "Well, the falling part, anyway. Besides, you should have been in the middle," she said to Sandra. "Richard is the tallest, so he'd anchor the pose from the back. You'd just have to lean against him."

Sandra and Richard both blushed slightly as the implications of switching positions ran through their heads. I could think of worse things than having Richard wrap his arms around me,  Sandra thought.

"Well, I'm not getting nude with two women in front of a whole classroom of students," Richard said dramatically.

"Like you wouldn't love that. But seriously, who said anything about nude?" Emily chided.

"Oh. Right," Richard said sheepishly.

"Here, have some more wine, Richard. Maybe it will clear your head."

"Mmm, this food is good," Sandra said. "I wish we had thought of this earlier in the week."

"Well, when we need a break from cafeteria food, we can always cook for ourselves."

"What classes are you taking, Richard?" Sandra asked.

"Um, let's see, ear training, piano seminar, theory..."

"Whose theory classes are you in?" Emily interrupted.

"I think I have Dobra for ear training and Connelly for theory."

"Sucker, Dobra is supposed to be the hardest," Emily said.

"Really? I have him too," Sandra lamented.

"Connelly is supposed to be easy, or so I've heard," Emily said. "I have her, for theory. Looks like we'll all be in that one together."

"No, I have Dobra for both classes!" Sandra wailed.

"Ouch."

Just my luck,  she thought. At least I have one of the classes with Richard.

"Maybe he's not that bad," Richard said, hoping it was true. The little theory he had done with his piano teacher in high school had been somewhat difficult.

"People call him Doberman," Emily said simply.

Sandra and Richard looked at each other worriedly.

"What are you taking for electives?" Emily asked.

"I have to take English," Richard said.

"Me too," Sandra said.

"I got credit from AP, so I'm taking art instead," said Emily.

"You're lucky," Richard said, finishing his wine glass.

"No, I worked hard in high school. There was no luck involved," she answered.

"Speaking of work, either of you practice today?" Richard asked.

"No, when would we have done that? We were with you the whole day."

"Maybe you got up at five."

"Right, that'll be the day," Emily said. She finished the second bottle as she filled everyone's glasses.

"Hey, how much do we owe you for this wine?" Richard said.

"It's on me."

"No way, I want to pay you my share," Richard insisted. "You've been buying because you have the ID, but I still want to pitch in."

"You have no money. How are you going to pitch in?" Emily asked.

"I'll pay you when I get my work-study check."

"Well, there's no need."

Emily and Richard went back and forth for a bit, neither backing down.

Sandra excused herself to the bathroom. As she shut the door to the stall, she leaned back against it. The wine was thick in her head. Richard was too. She knew Emily and Richard were hitting it off, even as they argued about the money. It's inevitable,  she thought. They'll be hooking up soon. Emily's so smart, and sassy, and he obviously likes that. And she's cute. But what about those looks he's given me? Guys give me those looks all the time,  she reminded herself. But not those looks. And god, did he feel good in the art museum. She laughed out loud slightly at the memory. But I couldn't do that to Emily. I like her too much. Plus I have to live with her.

She sighed as she heard someone come in. I wish it was Richard,  she thought, and then pushed the thought away. Sandra flushed the toilet and stepped out into the common area of the bathroom, said hi to the girl brushing her teeth, and then went back to her room.

When she returned, the discussion about paying for the wine was over. Richard was sitting in the desk chair sipping his wine, and Emily had switched to the dim light of the corner lamp. Sandra was glad; she hated overhead bulbs.

"I'm serious, I'm going to check it out," Emily was saying.

"All right, go ahead," Richard said with a shrug.

"Here, she's back. Let's try that pose again," Emily said, pulling on Richard's hand.

Sandra felt a tingle shoot through her as Emily angled the closet door open slightly. The full length mirror that hung on it would reflect their pose back to them.

No one spoke as Sandra positioned herself in the center of the room. She twisted herself back as Richard stepped up behind her. She could feel his body just near to her, almost touching. Then his arms snaked around her. His forearm lay right through the valley between her breasts. I wonder if he can feel my heart pounding, she thought.

Emily positioned herself in front of Sandra, pulling on her waist, pressing her head against Sandra's hip. The three of them looked at each other in the mirror.

Sandra caught the eyes of the two people hugging her, and wondered what they were thinking. Were they feeling as adventurous, as sensual as she felt right then? The world was slower from the wine, and the dim light made the pose surreal. Maybe Emily was right; they should model. She wanted to see themselves captured on canvas. Even pencil on paper.

-------

"What's for dessert?" Sandra asked.

Richard turned, and smiled sweetly at her.

"What?" Sandra asked.

"Nothing. We didn't get any dessert," he said.

"I know. I'm actually stuffed anyway."

Richard yawned loudly. "Sorry. I'm beat. I think I'm going to turn in."

"Ready for cafeteria food tomorrow?" Sandra said.

"I guess," he said, though his face said that he wasn't. "I'm going to practice in the morning. Gotta make up for today."

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

Emily was oddly quiet as she lay on her bed.

"Goodnight, Emily," Richard said, giving her a gentle caress on her hair.

"Night, Richard," she smiled at him.

"Goodnight Sandra."

"Goodnight."

Richard pulled her into a hug. One hand caressed her hair, and she inadvertently let out a murmur.

"We never got our head massages," she said softly.

"Oh, you're right. I'll give you a quick one."

Richard sat on her bed, and Sandra sat herself on the floor in front of him.

Emily turned and watched them.

"You want one too?" he asked.

Emily smiled and nodded.

Richard's touch was wonderful. It was like he was making music with her hair, a million-stringed harp that he knew just how to play.

All too soon it was Emily's turn. Sandra climbed onto her bed, curling herself behind Richard as he gave Emily her treatment.

After a few minutes, she put her hand on Richard's back and rubbed it gently, feeling his back muscles flexing slightly as he moved his arms. She wondered how the power in his muscles translated to such delicate touches in her hair. There is great power in holding power in reserve,  she thought.

The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was Richard and Emily hugging in the center of the room. She could see both their faces, one directly and one in the mirror, and they both looked content.



-------

Chapter 4: Trio



When Richard got back to his room that evening, Jer was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling.

"Where have you been, man?" Richard asked.

"Huh?"

"I thought you were coming into the city with us this morning."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot I had a lesson," he said. He sat up and rubbed his face. "At six I woke up to take a piss and remembered. So I went to practice."

"Close one."

"Yeah, I guess," Jer said dismissively.

"Would've sucked if you missed your first lesson."

"Nah. Mr. Barnes is cool."

"My teacher would have kicked me out of her studio, probably."

Jer just shrugged. "What've you been up to?"

"Just hanging out with a couple of girls."

"The ones you went into the city with?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Cool. I'm gonna go and hang out with Jenna, want to come?"

"Who's Jenna?"

"Just some girl I know from Gybso."

"Gybso? What's that?"

"Greater Boston Youth Symphony Orchestra. She's cool. We used to go out."

"And now?"

"Eh, sometimes we fool around, but we're not attached, you know."

"Mm. Well, thanks for the offer, but I think I'm going to hit the sack. Long day."

"Cool. See you later."

Jer slipped out into the hallway, and then came back in. "Hey, some guy left a message in some weird language. I wasn't sure if it was for you, but I left it on the machine anyway."

Richard chuckled. "Yeah, probably my dad."

"All right, later."

There was indeed a message on the answering machine from Richard's dad. They had gotten home safely, and were anxious to hear how the first lesson with Ms. Tertychnaya had gone. Richard's mom got on near the end to give her greetings.

Richard smiled as he listened. If they only knew the fun he was having.

-------

The next morning Jer was not in his bed again. Richard wondered if he was practicing on his bass, or practicing on Jenna. If he had come back the night before, Richard sure didn't remember hearing him.

He dialed up his parents, hoping to catch them before they went to work.

"Allo?" Vittorio answered the phone.

"Papa," Richard greeted.

"Riccardo! How are you? Did you get our message?" he said. The conversation proceeded in Italian.

"Yeah, I did. Everything is great here."

"How was your lesson?"

"Good. I played the Liszt for her."

"And?"

"And we worked on it. She showed me some things to do with it."

"Good, good. How is your roommate?"

"He's nice."

"What's his name?"

"Jer."

"What?"

"Jer." Richard said again.

"Chair?" Vittorio repeated awkwardly. English was never easy for him.

Richard laughed. "Yeah, Chair."

There was a pause. "Like what you sit on?"

"Yeah."

Another pause. "Strange name..."

"How's Mama?"

"Good. Here, she wants to talk to you. Ei! Riccardo, remember to practice a lot! That's why you are there."

"Yes, Papa."

"Good. Here's Mama."

There was a pause as Richard's mother took the phone.

"Allo, Riccardo?" Angelina said.

"Hi Ma."

Richard smiled as he again answered all the same questions his Dad had just asked him.

"I'm going to go practice now," Richard said.

"Okay, Riccardo, we love you."

"Love you too, Ma."

Richard hung up. He was hungry, and he realized he hadn't made any plans to eat breakfast with Sandra and Emily.

On his way downstairs, he stopped by their room. Sandra was doing some vocal exercises. Richard knocked during a pause.

"Oh, hi Richard!" Sandra said brightly after she opened the door.

"Hey. Sorry to interrupt."

"No, it's fine. I don't really feel like practicing yet anyway. Way too early to sing."

"Have you eaten yet?"

"No, you?"

"Nah, me neither. Is Emily practicing?" Richard asked.

"Yeah, she went to the practice rooms."

"Let's swing by on the way to the cafeteria."

-------

Emily had just gotten out her horn when Richard and Sandra found her in one of the practice rooms.

"Hey, girl, want to go eat?" Sandra said.

Emily laughed. "I was going to play some before eating, but you two look like you're ready to go."

"You don't have to come, if you really feel the need to practice."

"And miss the first cafeteria meal? You're joking, right?"

"We'd give you a full report," Richard said.

"Then I'd probably never want to eat there. Give me a minute to pack up."

I'm glad they came to find me,  Emily thought.

-------

The walk to Tapler cafeteria was about five minutes. Far enough to be annoying if one just wanted a quick snack.

"God, this sucks," Richard said. "Looks like everyone had the same idea."

The place was mobbed with people.

"So what's today's exciting activity?" Sandra asked, as they waited in the long line for omelets.

"I think today is the tour of Crantz Hall," Emily said.

"That should be neat."

"Yeah, it's a cool place. I visited a few years ago, when my Dad guest conducted."

"Does your Dad travel a lot?" Richard asked.

"Yeah, he has guest slots all over the place."

"Did you get to travel with him?"

"Nah. I did go to school, you know."

"Mm. What's your Mom do?"

"Nothing. She died."

"Oh, I'm really sorry. I'll shut up now," Richard said.

"No, it's okay. It was a long time ago. He's been through a bunch of wives since."

"A bunch?"

"Yeah. I never liked any of them. Obviously he didn't either."

"That's too bad."

"Well, such is life."

Jer appeared out of nowhere, with a short blonde girl tagging along.

"Yo, Richard, what's up?" he said.

"Hey, Jer. How's it going?"

"Good. Can we cut in here?"

"Sure, I don't care."

"This is Jenna," he said, gesturing to his companion. Richard nodded at her.

"Hey, I saw you three in the city yesterday," Jenna said.

"Oh, were you on the bus?" Emily said, grinning.

"Yeah, I never went on the tour last year. But that sucked! It was so hot on that bus. You guys had the right idea."

"I'm Emily, by the way," she said, giving Richard a look.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, and this is Sandra," he said quickly.

"Jenna, nice to meet you."

"And my roommate Jer," he added.

After greetings were exchanged, there was an awkward pause.

"I heard the food here is supposed to be better this year," Jenna said.

"We'll see. I hope so," Richard said.

"Last year it was pretty bad."

"Are you a sophomore?" Sandra asked.

"Yeah. We called this place Crapler."

"Great," Richard groaned.

They ordered their omelets and eventually found a table.

"Why are you still in the dorm if you hate the food?" Emily asked. Richard smiled slightly at her directness.

"I was going to get an apartment with someone, but they chose not to come back."

"I thought she got kicked out," Jer said.

"She did," Jenna laughed. "Her only choice was not to come back."

"This could be worse," Jer said, waving a piece of omelet around with his fork. It slipped off and flew onto Jenna's plate.

"Jer! That's gross," Jenna exclaimed, picking the offending piece off and tossing it back onto his plate.

"I didn't chew it! Chill..."

"What did your almost-roommate do to get kicked out?" Sandra asked Jenna.

"She didn't cut it in the theory department, and she had a falling out with her teacher."

"She didn't practice, either," Jer said darkly.

Richard felt his stomach twitch nervously. I haven't practiced in two days.

"I think I was a bad influence on her," Jenna added.

"How?"

"She was my roommate in the dorm. She came from this really religious family. She was like real straight-laced, didn't drink, smoke, swear, nothing. If I said 'damn' in front of her, she'd close her eyes and turn away. I mean, we couldn't be more opposite. But, you know, I liked her. Beneath the straightjacket her parents put on her, she was a cool person."

"So you corrupted her," Emily said.

"Well, it wasn't like I was on a mission to do that, but she was around me a lot. Eventually she gave into ... temptations." Jenna chuckled. "Over Christmas break she had a huge fight with her family, and then spring semester she did an about flip. She went way overboard though. She always had trouble with theory, and she kind of let that go. Then she called her flute teacher some names when he got tough on her."

"She went down in flames, basically," Jer said.

"Now she's looking for work on the Broadway scene in New York. So that's why I'm still in the dorm."

"Crazy story," Sandra said.

"Yeah, but not uncommon. More than a few people crash out of this school," Jenna said.

"Are the theory classes really hard?" Richard asked.

"Depends who you have."

"Dobra and Connelly."

"Heh heh. Dobra is an ass," Jenna said. "Connelly is pretty lenient, though."

Sandra wailed. "Why do I have to have Dobra for both classes?"

"Oh, you'll probably do well," Jenna dismissed.

"Why?"

"Because you're pretty."

"What?"

"People say he has a soft spot for good looking girls."

"Eew, now I really don't want to be in his class!"

"Just don't go to his office, and you'll be fine," Jenna said.

"Unless you're failing," Emily said with a snigger.

"Emily, that's nasty!"

"Better than failing out of school."

"No way."

"Hey, if I had to screw Ms. Connelly to pass, I'd do it," Jer said. Jenna backhanded him on the arm.

"Why, is she hot?" Emily asked.

"She's not bad. She administered my placement test when I auditioned. If I was failing..."

"She'd probably fail you for sure after screwing you," Jenna said.

"Ouch!" laughed Emily.

The rest of them guffawed as Jer glared at Jenna. He had no comeback, though.

-------

"Dude, when you invited me on the city tour, you didn't tell me your friends were hot," Jer said, when he and Richard were back in their room. Richard smiled as he collected his music to go and practice.

"You had a lesson," Richard said.

"So? I would have ditched."

"You're with Jenna."

"Not really. We're kind of loosely not together, sort of."

"Whatever the hell that means!"

"Which one are you with?"

Richard looked at Jer.

"I don't know," he finally said. "Both?"

"Hog. I knew you were going to say that."

Richard laughed. "I'm gonna go practice. Later."

"Later."

-------

Richard found a practice room fairly quickly, and it was a nice piano to boot. The one he had practiced on a few days earlier was somewhat unresponsive. He noted the practice room number.

After warming up with some scales and arpeggios, he pulled out the Liszt piece and threw his mind back to the lesson. Ms. Tertychnaya had said so many things, he didn't know where to start.

Start in the music,  he heard her say in his head.

He started from the beginning, and as he played the first section, her words started coming to him. He stopped, and restarted. In the early phrases, she wanted more melody. But how?

Richard experimented with playing the first phrase over and over again. He used different combinations of pedal and fingerings to try and make the chords sing melodies.

After a half-hour, he had new appreciation for how much he had to learn. Richard knew he had technical skill on the piano. He was gifted with it and demonstrated it from an early age. Fast runs and intricate passagework were no problem for him after some practice.

But already in one lesson, Ms. Tertychnaya had shown him a different look at technique. For the last thirty minutes he had been exploring the subtleties of tone and fingering, and found that it was every bit as hard to reproduce consistently as the fancy and the bombastic.

It was a bit frustrating, too. Every time he thought he finally had gotten the passage just right, the next pass was a step back.

But this is why I love music,  he reminded himself.

-------

The tour of Crantz Hall was impressive. Even Emily was affected by the atmosphere, and was unusually reserved. The concert hall was a mix of classical ornate and modern oblique. Not unlike the art museum, Richard noted, wondering if the buildings were related.

The tour guide started in the entryway, and then took the students into the hall to sit in the audience section as he gave some of the history and facts about the hall.

Backstage was all business: lighting boards, curtain controls, and a myriad of cables running up into the heights. They faded in and out of the shadows as the students walked behind the moveable backdrops.

The tour guide led the group out onto the stage, and had them face out into the empty rows of chairs. He sang out a clear note, and then cut it off. The group listened as the reverberations lasted over three seconds. He said a loud orchestra chord could be heard for over five seconds.

The silence was impeccable. Richard imagined standing there in front of the thousands of people who would fill the hall, clapping, on their feet ... What a feeling that would be! One day,  he thought, one day.

-------

"You know, the food at the cafeteria isn't that bad," Richard said.

"No, it's actually edible," Emily admitted.

"My pasta was good," Sandra said.

The three of them were headed back to the dorm after dinner. Jer and Jenna were going to a party. Emily had not wanted to go, so they split up.

"What are we doing tonight?" Richard said.

"Scrabble?" Emily said cheerfully.

"And get our asses whipped again? I don't know if I'm ready for that yet," Sandra said.

"I have this other game called Taboo," Emily said.

"Taboo, huh?" Richard said with arched brow. "Sounds naughty."

"Don't you wish, Richard," Emily said. "It's a word game."

"Great," Sandra groaned.

"No, not like Scrabble. If it were a card game, it would be more like Spit, not Bridge."

"Oh, all right, that sounds better. Have any wine left?" Sandra asked.

"You two are such mooches!"

"What? We offered to cover our share, and you didn't let us!" Richard protested.

"Chill, I was just kidding. Of course I have some wine left."

Once they had settled into the girls' dorm room, Emily poured some wine into three glasses and put on some music.

"What is this?" Sandra asked.

"Nine Inch Nails."

Emily dug the game out of her closet.

"So how does this game work?" Richard asked.

"It's better in teams of two, but we can still play. For each turn there are three roles. One person takes a card. You have to describe the word on top, without saying the word or any of the other five words on that card. The second person has to guess the word on top. Like here we have 'wedding.' I have to get Sandra to say 'wedding.' But I can't say any of the other words on the card: 'marriage, ' 'bride, ' 'groom, ' 'nuptials, ' or 'honeymoon.'"

"Sounds easy enough," Richard said. "What does the third person do?"

"Checks that I don't say one of the taboo words. That's what this annoying buzzer is for. It's my favorite part," Emily said evilly, as she demonstrated.

"So then what? Say I guess 'wedding, '" Sandra said.

"Once the person guesses, then the reader takes another card. Times up when the hourglass timer is done. So we'll rotate who does what. Reader and guesser get one point per card, reader loses a point for each mess up."

"So you can say anything you want except the words on the card?" Sandra said.

"Yeah. Or any form. You can't say 'wedlock, ' or 'bridal, ' for example."

"All right, this is easy. Let's go. I'll read first," Richard said.

"I'll guess," Sandra offered.

Emily flipped the hourglass and Richard pulled up the first card. "Okay, this is a thing that you ... shit, um ... you take this out on the road and —"

Bzzzzzzt!

"What?" Richard exclaimed.

"Can't say 'road'." Emily pointed to the word printed clearly on the card.

"Oh, shit. All right." Richard took another card. "Okay, you use this in the ... room that you ... prepare ... stuff you ... um ... put in your ... mouth..."

"Kitchen! Oven? Dishwasher!?" Sandra guessed.

"No, um ... ice can go in it, to ch—mince it up. Damn, this is harder than I thought!"

"Keep going!" Sandra urged, as she continued to guess.

"Um ... It has knifelike things in it, that go around."

"Blender!"

"Yeah! Next. All right, this is something that you ... place ... inside of ... Shit. Um, when, when you take..."

"Time!" Emily cried out.

"Already?"

"Yeah. Let's see, Sandra gets one point. Richard, you have zero, since you fucked up on 'car.'"

Emily noted the score on a paper, and then took the stack of cards. "Let me show you how it's done. I'll read to Sandra. Ready?"

Richard flipped the timer, and grabbed the buzzer, ready to get Emily back.

"Okay, Sandra, what did you have for lunch today?"

"Pasta?"

"What kind?"

"Um, spaghetti?"

"Ding!" Emily flipped another card. "Name some mammals that live at your house."

"Mammals? Uh, dogs, cows, pigs, chi —"

"Ding! Pig. Next. Let's see. All right, if electricity goes out, we can see by setting a Zippo to..."

"Candles."

"Yeah! Next."

Richard grinned as Emily racked up seven points with Sandra.

"Looks like another game we'll be getting our asses kicked in," Richard groaned, as Emily notated the score.

"Drink more wine, then, Riccardo," Emily said, patting his leg. "It'll numb the pain."

-------

Much later, the trio were still playing. Richard and Sandra had learned some tricks by listening to Emily read, and had regained ground. The wine was also making everyone a little careless, and Emily had drawn some hard words. Their glasses were empty, since they had gone to swigging straight from the bottle when they opened the second one.

"All right, last game," Sandra announced. "Richard's turn to read to me. How many points do I need to win?"

"Um, let's see. Three points. Richard would need, uh, twelve."

"Come on, Richard, we can do it!" Sandra urged.

"No way," Emily said. "Three is doable, not twelve. My best ever was nine. But good luck."

"Ready?"

"Go!"

Richard turned up the first card. "This is what you do when you want to ... beat some one up. Um, let's see ... You can do this with your, your fists. Um, punch, or pound."

Why aren't any of those words on here? Richard wondered. What does 'horse' have to do with it?

"Hit? Smack?" Sandra guessed wildly.

Emily was smiling mischievously.

"Um, like that, keep going," Richard urged. "Name some other things, like hitting. Pounding."

"I don't know. Bitch-slap?"

Emily burst out laughing.

"Shh! Uh, I don't know, when you beat the crap out of someone, you do this. Pound."

"Richard, I don't know! Beat up, fight?"

Richard eyed the timer. It was most of the way out.

"Pummel?" Sandra said.

"Yes!" Richard yelled. He moved to take the next card.

"That's not the word," Emily said.

"What?"

"That's not the word on the card."

Richard looked. Pommel... 

"Fuck!" he yelled.

"Time!" Emily said a second later. Her mouth was twitching.

"What do you mean?" Sandra said.

"The word was pommel, like pommel horse. Didn't you wonder why none of the words on the card had to do with punching, Richard?" Emily asked, as she showed Sandra the card.

Richard just shot daggers at her with his eyes, but when Sandra started laughing, he joined in.

"Damn, I could have won!" Sandra said. "Richard messed it all up."

"I'm sorry," Richard said.

Sandra patted his knee. "No, no, I was just kidding."

Emily passed the wine bottle around.

"Woooo!" Sandra yelled. "That was fun. I'm really feeling this wine."

"Me too," Emily admitted.

Sandra lay back on the rug, stretching herself along the base of her bed.

"Are they really saying what I think they're saying in this song?" Sandra said.

Emily laughed.

"I want to fuck you like an animal!" Sandra sang along with Trent on the CD.

"Okay," Richard said, louder than he intended. He immediately felt heat in his face.

Sandra lifted her head and frowned at him, and then started laughing.

"I think we need to cut Richard off," Emily said, taking the wine bottle from him.

Richard stood, and steadied himself on the table. "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" Sandra asked.

"Um, the bathroom? Is that all right?"

"Oh, okay. You're not going to bed yet, are you?"

"No, I'll come back."

"I want my head massage."

"Me too," chimed Emily.

"Don't fall down the stairs, or I'll be really mad," Sandra said. "And sad," she added.

Richard chuckled as he closed the door behind him. He ran up the stairs to the men's room, and splashed some water on his face.

Once he was back in front of the girls' door, he ran his hands through his hair, breathing deeply. His body was loose from the wine. He wondered what was going to happen when he went back inside. Sandra was giving him some looks that made him want to... to what? What about Emily? I really like her too. I know she feels the same way.

The previous night when Sandra had stepped out to the bathroom, Richard and Emily had been so close to kissing. They were inches apart as they cleaned up the dinner plates. Emily had moved in, surely to kiss Richard, but then had suddenly started talking about modeling for the art class again. Why didn't she kiss me? Does she want me to be with Sandra? Surely she can see the way Sandra is flirting with me. Does it bother her?

It was no use trying to think about it. Every time Richard tried to analyze the relationship he had with Sandra and Emily, it slipped away, like water through his fingers.

He sighed and opened the door.

-------

Richard walked in, looking a little flushed. Emily watched him from her bed. She had switched the music to a Jacques Loussier CD.

"What's this?" he asked, gesturing to the stereo.

Emily told him.

"Pretty interesting. Is the whole CD like this?"

"Yeah. All Bach. All played as a jazz trio."

"Hmm. It's really cool. I may want to borrow this sometime. All right, who's first?" he announced.

Sandra was still lying partly under her bed.

"I'll wait. I can't move right now." She hummed the tune to the Nine Inch Nails song. The line about fucking like animals.

Emily smiled. That girl really reacts to the wine. A few more sips and she'll be all over Richard.

Emily slid off the bed and leaned back against it, as Richard sat on the edge behind her. As he began his work, she closed her eyes, relaxing into his touch. His fingers lit her up, making pleasurable waves spread through her torso. And he was only touching her scalp. She wished he would move his hands all over her body.

But Sandra! I like her too much to steal Richard away from her. She's so flirty with him sometimes. Especially after some wine! Why didn't I find him sooner? Why didn't I kiss him last night? I just want to... 

The word 'Taboo' stared up at her from the game box. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the late hour, but the word pulsed in the dim light.

Taboo.

Taboo.

-------

Sandra watched as Richard worked through Emily's hair. She had her eyes closed, and Sandra could see the pleasure on her face. She imagined the touch of his fingers on her own hair. She could almost feel it. The gentle circles he was making with his finger, and now the long lines down the part, adding one finger at a time to the movement, and finishing with a flourish before adding more pressure again and massaging her temples.

She watched Richard, now imagining his hands in places on her own body that they were not visiting on Emily's. Her shoulders, her neck. Lower still.

Richard caught her look, and gazed back at her. Sandra smiled openly, invitingly. Richard returned the smile, his gaze unwavering.

For a long time they looked at each other's eyes, as Emily let out a murmur. Richard moved his hands down to Emily's shoulders. Sandra felt a tingle run up her spine as she watched his hands do their work. I hope he does that to me.

Finally Richard finished. Emily crawled onto the bed with a quiet thank you, and Sandra got up unsteadily, moving to take Emily's place between Richard's legs.

She almost shuddered when his hands touched her head. He touched her differently than he did Emily, she could tell. Gentler. Maybe he thinks I'm more delicate. If he ever comes to my farm he'll see otherwise,  she thought. But she liked the gentle touch. His hands worked their magic on her.

Suddenly, Richard's fingers slowed. Done already? Part of her wanted to grab them and put them back to work. He's probably tired; next time I'll go first,  Sandra thought.

Richard's hands moved around distractedly for a few seconds. Then they resumed their original touch, and Sandra relaxed again. The touch was more sensual now. It was much less a massage, and much more a caress. She loved it.

All I need now is his hands on my shoulders... 

-------

Richard had his eyes closed as he massaged Sandra. He felt a hand on his cheek. It gently pulled his face around. He could sense Emily kneeling on the bed behind him. He almost opened his eyes, but the moment was so surreal that he chose not to shatter it with reality.

Emily's lips materialized out of the darkness and pressed themselves against his. Her tongue wasted no time moving into his mouth.

He breathed deeply as the world spun around him for a moment.

Is this a dream?

He then remembered his body. His hands were absently tracing Sandra's hair. He regained some sense and returned to caressing her head, as Emily kept his mouth occupied with her delicious tongue.

Sandra let out a slight moan as he lowered his hands to her neck. Her skin felt slightly damp as he ran his palms over her shoulders. Richard felt some movement from Sandra, and then the two thin ribbons of her tank top straps were no longer on her shoulders.

Emily broke off the kiss absolutely silently.

Richard opened his eyes, and found himself looking into Emily's eyes not six inches away. She was smiling sexily at him. She glanced down at Sandra, and then put a finger to her lips.

Emily disappeared behind him as she lay down on her pillow again.

Her arm snaked around Richard's waist. Richard watched it glide across his thigh, in slow motion.

-------

Sandra hoped she hadn't been too bold in lowering her straps, but she was beyond caring anymore. She didn't like the way the straps were separating part of her body from Richard's hands.

As Richard worked her shoulders, she felt like she could be there forever.

The touch almost made her jump. She had to concentrate to realize that Richard still had both his hands on her shoulders. Then is it ... Emily that's massaging my head? It has to be. The realization came suddenly. Her touch is different than Richard's. But no less caring.

For a moment Sandra struggled with the meaning of this third hand on her head. But like wine through a sieve, it slipped away.

All she felt was ecstasy.

-------

Emily felt Richard's hands work their way back up onto Sandra's head. His fingers intertwined with hers, and their three hands worked as one.

Emily closed her eyes, smiling. She stopped moving, stopped directing her arm. Richard took control of her hand and guided it through Sandra's hair.

Emily was drifting off. She wondered what the morning would bring as she tried to hold on to her consciousness. But like sand through an hourglass, it slipped away.

"Goodnight," she whispered.



-------

Chapter 5: Sonata



Movement I.

Practice was difficult for Richard the next morning. Besides having somewhat of a headache, he had trouble finding a practice room. The piano in the one he finally secured was mediocre. It sounded somewhat muffled no matter how he tried to coax any tone out of it.

Usually he could have dealt with the limitations of the instrument, and made progress on some technical passages or finger work. But unfortunately his mind was continuously drifting off. The events of the previous night were replaying in his mind like a looped videotape.

He stood to stretch, and tried to clear his head. Obviously that was no friendly goodnight kiss Emily had given him last night.

But what was the meaning of her shushing gesture? Did she not want to disturb Sandra, or does she not want Sandra to know at all? But then she massaged Sandra's head too. And what of Sandra, pulling aside her straps? Clearly she was very much enjoying my massage! It almost felt like an invitation to touch her more. She hung in my arms forever when we hugged goodnight. And then her peck on my lips was overly friendly, too.

Richard wondered what the girls knew about each other. They already seemed fast friends after only a few days. Girls do that,  he reminded himself.

Richard ran his hands through his damp hair. This heat isn't helping,  he thought.

He felt like he was misleading someone. Sandra, by not telling her of the kiss? Or Emily, by not telling her he was deeply attracted to Sandra as well?

Or was it himself he was misleading?

-------

Richard had never been in a situation quite like this. Or even remotely like it. He'd been with more than one woman, but certainly never at the same time.

First was Maureen Kowalski. That was a classic case of a relationship that should have stayed at the friends stage. Maureen was a bit weird, on the fringe of the socially acceptable pool in high school. She and Richard traded stupid poems in Spanish class, junior year. Somehow that led to trying to have sex. Maureen wasn't a virgin, although she never said where she'd lost that part of herself.

After one rather uninspired coupling, everything got weird. Maureen had regrets almost before they had even finished the act. She thought that Richard was going to find her promiscuous since they had only 'known' each other for a month. Then she thought he'd think her prudish, since she didn't let him come inside her, even though he had a condom on.

Maureen thought too much. The stupid poems ended after that.

Richard was somewhat fringe himself. You don't win many friends practicing piano for hours every day. He used to hate how his father made him sit at the piano, when the other kids were outside playing soccer or kickball in the dirt lot down the street.

When he was younger, he had a kitchen timer which he'd set on his piano. He would set the required practice time on the timer, start it, and then play. When the timer rang, he would jump up in mid-phrase and run out the door. Usually the games were winding down by then.

As he went through high school, music turned around and took hold of him. Somewhere along the way the piano went from being a sworn enemy to being a close friend.

By then, his human friends were few but firm.

-------

His second time with a girl was only marginally better than the first. His piano teacher, Mr. Schatten, put on yearly recitals at a local theatre. At the one that coincided with the end of his junior year of high school, Richard met Mr. Schatten's newest student, Arlene.

Arlene Palmer. She introduced herself twice, which didn't make Richard feel all that memorable. Maybe she was just nervous.

The order of performance for the evening generally went from beginners early on, to the most advanced students at the end. Starting when he was a freshman, Richard always closed the show, and this year was no different. When he looked in the program, he was surprised to see that Arlene was performing second to last in the recital.

He knew why when he heard her play. The girl had beautiful phrasing. Richard was so taken with her playing that someone had to snap him out of his state and push him out onto the stage after she had walked off.

Richard didn't play his best that night, but Arlene had nice things to say about his playing anyway. He was just happy she had stayed to listen.

Early in his senior year of high school, he'd encounter Arlene at his piano teacher's apartment in New York City, when Mr. Schatten had the older students over for dinner. Five or six advanced students from his studio would get together, eat pasta, play some fun four-hand (or more-hand) piano works, and maybe watch a laserdisc of Suor Angelica. Mr. Schatten loved Puccini.

After the second of these dinners, Arlene and Richard exchanged phone numbers, and met for dinner in the city every few weeks on their own. Arlene lived in Jersey, so Manhattan was a good middle ground. Arlene had a car, but Richard didn't, so he took the subway in. It was cheaper than parking, too.

Richard wasn't sure if he ever fell in love with Arlene, but he had been at least close. Things progressed moderately due to the distance and lack of privacy. They talked of music easily. They were such different players, so every dinner was an exploration of how the other was approaching their latest piece. There was little overlap in repertoire between them, since Richard's bold and technical style was a world apart from Arlene's more sensitive and loose playing. But that was the attraction. Arlene's fingers might never move as fast as Richard's, but his might never sing as lovely as hers did.

The Friday Richard returned from his Wexford audition, his parents dropped him off at Arlene's house. She would drive him home on Sunday.

Richard was exceptionally high that weekend. His audition could not have gone better. He had just played some difficult selections almost perfectly in front of a panel of some of the leading pianists in the country. He couldn't wait to tell Arlene.

Arlene was not as high, though. Her audition at Juilliard a few days earlier had gone poorly. She had stumbled on several passages, and had to restart the Bach since she couldn't pick it up in midstream. This was her dream school, and she was sure her best chance at getting in had slipped away.

Richard tried to bring her spirits up, but Arlene pushed him away with comments like "You weren't even there, so how can you know it wasn't that bad?"

Over the course of the next day Arlene seemed to come around some. Richard was too happy to let her bring him down, and was unstoppably optimistic about her playing as a result. She eventually conceded that she had played some things well at the audition.

Late Saturday night on the pullout couch, Arlene woke him with a kiss. She quietly pulled Richard to her room. Richard had nothing with him, and apprehension about getting her pregnant got in the way of making the night a success. And maybe Arlene hadn't gotten over her audition. After a few painful attempts at entering her, Arlene tightened up and asked if they could stop.

A few minutes later she wanted to try again. By now Richard was on edge, worried about causing her pain, worried about the lack of latex, and worried that the beautiful phrasing of their relationship was totally lost.

Eventually he gently thrust into her a few times, and then pulled out and finished himself as quickly as he could into his hand.

Sunday morning was awkward, to say the least. Any ground Arlene had gained out of her depression over the Juilliard audition was lost to the rather unsatisfying episode the night before. The weekend finished quietly.

She decided she wanted to wait to have sex until she was on her own, in college. Richard was almost relieved to hear that.

They never really broke up. Richard got the feeling that Arlene's declaration of independence from sex was her way of splitting up with him. The next time they met for dinner, there was some kissing, but the heat wasn't the same. They didn't make another dinner appointment like they usually did, and Arlene never brought it up during their phone conversations. When Richard went to one of Mr. Schatten's parties and Arlene wasn't there (even though she vaguely said that she was going to be there), he got the message.

Richard had been right, Arlene did get into Juilliard after all.

-------

Richard learned everything he knew about good sex from Tonia. Richard was afraid of sex when he met her. In two attempts, he still had not climaxed in the act, and needless to say his partners surely hadn't. He was on the verge of blaming himself. It turned out that Richard and girls whose names rhymed with 'een' weren't a good match. Tonia and Richard were a good match.

Too bad she lived in Italy.

After Richard graduated high school, he and his parents spent four weeks in central Italy. His family had a house in the small town they were from, and his dad's sister, Maria, kept the place up, living on the lower floor. Richard's family went every two years for part of the summer.

Tonia was nineteen. She was a firecracker, not afraid of being herself in a small town. She was the kind of girl who would make the old ladies in black sitting on the benches in the piazza shake their heads at her.

The first time Richard saw her, he was drinking pear flavored vodkas with some friends at the bar in the piazza. She drove by on a Vespa moped, wearing a provocative top and a jean skirt. Richard asked who she was, and his friends just laughed.

He met Tonia a few days later at a dance. A DJ had set up on the patio of a pizza place and everyone of interest was there. He was having a beer with his friends when one of them said that Tonia was coming over.

"She's checking you out," his friend had said excitedly.

Richard laughed, sure he was being teased. But a few moments later Tonia came right up to Richard and introduced herself. A few minutes later they were on the patio dancing.

A few days later they were in the back of her car fucking. Richard wasn't a small guy, and Tonia was tall and leggy. Space was tight as they pulled clothes off and pushed the front seats forward.

Tonia knew what she was doing; even Richard could tell he was not the first or second man she had been with. She was on birth control, and she was on fire for this American boy who was also Italian. She asked if they screwed in cars a lot in America. Richard said he thought so.

He was nervous given his past experience, but she just took control and made everything work. Richard was too excited to restrain himself for long, but he stayed hard after coming inside of her. He didn't even miss a stroke. She urged him on, knees bouncing by her head. If she could feel that he had wet her insides, she didn't let on.

Eventually she slowed, and she asked if he had come yet. He said he had. She looked at him a little funny, and then giggled. She said she had kept going for his sake; she was finished.

Richard just shrugged.

The next two weeks were a sexual awakening for Richard. Tonia was not afraid of sex. By the end of his trip, neither was Richard.

Too bad she lived in Italy.

-------

The whole situation at Wexford was a surprise to Richard. Suddenly he was in a group of people where it was cool to play classical music. What was fringe in high school was now common ground. Music was no longer an obstacle to making friends, but rather a catalyst.

He felt so comfortable with Emily and Sandra. It was like he had been a saltwater fish in a freshwater pond all his life, and now he was in the ocean.

But how does something like this even work? Two girlfriends? Or is this a competition between them?

Everything seemed to somehow hinge on Emily. She was their leader, and somehow the sensuality of their three way relationship stemmed from her words and actions. She had kissed Richard, and had massaged Sandra. The more he considered it, the more that he thought Emily's touch of Sandra was an inclusive gesture. He hoped so. He didn't know if he could choose between them.

-------

Movement II.

Emily sat on the floor of her practice room, tapping out the rhythms of her orchestra part with the end of her pencil. Her hand felt a little shaky, and she was distracted by the surrounding noise from adjacent rooms. She wished she could practice in her own room, but Sandra was singing there.

Her thoughts wandered to Richard. What does he think of me? He made no indication of what he thought of the kiss last night. But he did take my hand when I was massaging Sandra.

Sandra. This morning she had been quiet. Maybe I freaked her out by touching her hair last night. Or maybe she was just tired. It was early, after all. What happened after I fell asleep? Did Richard kiss her too?

Emily was surprised to feel a slight twinge of arousal at that thought, where she had expected jealousy. Last night she had felt like the three of them were so closely connected. But it made no sense. Sharing a man with Sandra? It was taboo.

But as Emily thought more about it, the idea still never crossed the line over into discomfort like she expected. Instead it felt natural, somehow. Like the three of them would fit just right, if they only tried.

What's wrong with me? she wondered.

-------

Emily spent her teen years without parents. Her mother, Elizabeth, died when Emily was eleven, of cancer and of heartbreak. Her dad had moved on to yet another woman by then.

Her dad always had someone on the side. Just as he conducted at many different orchestras throughout the world, he made music with many different women. Some became wives, others stayed mistresses.

Emily hated them all. Elizabeth had stood by Clark when he was rising through the ranks of orchestra appointments. She gave up her promising violin career to raise Emily and follow Clark on his dream. When he finally landed the Baltimore job, he didn't have time for her anymore. What really irked Emily was that he had time for Mona, and Yvette, and Francine, and god knew who else. Those were just the ones he ended up marrying for a year or two. She was glad her house was large enough that she didn't have to see them very much.

Emily lived in her father's house after Elizabeth passed. She had her issues with her father, but he was rather hands-off in raising her before her mother died, and that didn't change much afterwards. Their relationship was distant at best.

The oft empty house and access to money that her father plied her with to keep her happy meant parties and fun. She and some friends secured fake IDs in Washington. Girls' sleepovers became small coed parties which became 'Damn! Half the high school is here' bacchanals.

Summers were spent at Eastern Music Festival playing in the youth orchestra. Emily ran with the party crowd there. Promiscuity was the norm, regardless of gender or sexual orientation. Emily lost her virginity at sixteen in the dorm room of one Brian McBain. She had no idea who the fuck Brian McBain was. She still didn't know: that was the name on an envelope lying on the desk. She and Joel Brent had ended up in his room because it was unlocked and they were too drunk and horny to walk back to their own building. Joel and Emily had been fooling around that summer, and that night they went all the way on Brian's lower bunk bed.

Emily had a string of boyfriends. She could keep them no better than her mother had kept Clark. But then again, most weren't worth keeping. At EMF, none of her crowd took sex to be very committal. And in high school, guys weren't as cool when they weren't drinking.

-------

Senior year Emily got mono, and was really tired and sick for months. Her body had put the brakes on, before the partying did. Sobriety led to the realization that she hated guys, hated the way they treated her, and hated the way they were always talking shit. They were completely insensitive. And that was just when they were sober.

In this period she rediscovered her horn. Not that she had stopped playing, but she had stopped making music with it. The horn helped her through months of difficult reclusion.

Emily turned eighteen the day of her Wexford audition. The audition was cursory; Clark knew many of the musicians who taught at Wexford, and Emily had already played for the French horn teacher, Ralph Tyler, at EMF. Ralph and Clark went way back, having both studied horn together at the same conservatory. She was all but accepted to the school.

The use of her Dad's connections bothered Emily somewhat, but Wexford was where she really wanted to go. Mr. Tyler was a legend, now. Could she have gotten in strictly on her own merit? Emily thought so. The musical talent that ran in her family was inside of her blood, too.

Turning eighteen also meant that she had full access to the trust fund that her mother had left her. Watching her father lose chunks of his assets to ex-wives didn't bother her too much, since her mother had made sure Emily wouldn't fall victim to Clark's ephemeral obsessions.

Her senior year ended quietly, and she skipped EMF for the summer, instead working on repertoire and polishing her technique. She restrained her social life to girlfriends and some wine. She was through with big parties. She was through with guys.

-------

And then she met Richard. She hardly knew him, but she felt like she could trust him to do the right thing.

Richard was clearly attracted to Sandra, and vice-versa. There was no mistaking that. And for some odd reason I find that really sexy,  Emily thought.

Richard had to know how Emily felt about him now, after that kiss. And he seemed to be reciprocating. The other night when she had lost the courage to kiss him, he had seemed ready, almost eager. And last night he didn't pull away, she admitted.

But how does Sandra feel about Richard and me?

Somehow Sandra was the key link in the triangle, Emily thought.

-------

Movement III.

Sandra entered her room, locking the door behind her and leaning back against it. Richard was not in his room. Jer had answered the door, and he didn't know where Richard was. Jer's a little icky,  Sandra thought. I'm not sure I like the way he leers at me.

She pushed Jer out of her thoughts. Richard rushed in to take his place. God, I can't stop thinking of him!

Last night she had been so tempted to kiss him hard, with Emily asleep right there. His quiet but powerful presence was too overwhelming, and instead she just hugged him, and then gave him a simple lip-to-lip kiss.

And he ran his hands over my back as I kissed him. I wonder if he even realized he did that.

Sandra didn't remember ever being smitten with someone.

-------

To be honest, Sandra never had had much of a chance to be smitten back at home. She had known every boy in the area forever. Such was farm life for a tomboy that was pretty.

She grew up pretty. She was beautiful from the start. She never needed to grow into her body, or play to her strengths. As soon as boys were old enough to know what the difference was, Sandra never lacked for suitors.

So when Tim asked her out in ninth grade, it may as well have been her brother, so well she knew him already. Then with Billy in tenth grade, it was the same thing. Everything was so predictable, in a way. There was no being smitten; rather it seemed like dating was almost precursory to arranged marrying.

She and Billy lasted two and a half years. She loved Billy. They broke up because it was time to go away to college. If things still felt the same when they came back for break, then maybe they'd try and work things out.

Or so they had said, but Billy was a realist. He wanted to get his education in agriculture and then come back and take over his dad's farm. He had already decided what he was going to be doing for the rest of his life.

Sandra knew that things wouldn't be the same over break. His education would be his mistress by then, if not some other real girl. He needed a wife that would work with him, help him steer the inevitable ship he had conscripted to captain.

Touring the world singing in operas was not Billy's idea of a perfect partner's job description.

And managing a farm was not Sandra's dream, either. She was glad she had realized it soon enough to let go of Billy before he dragged her too far along that road.

-------

When she arrived at Wexford, she had promised herself that she would take it slow, with respect to relationships. Not for Billy's sake; she hoped he wasn't really waiting for her. Rather, she made the promise for her own sake. Getting into Wexford had been a long shot, but she had made it.

When she first visited the campus back in February for her audition, she was overwhelmed. She felt insignificant as the tour guide mentioned laurel after laurel that the conservatory had gained over the years. Musicians that she had listened to on CDs and cassettes were teachers at the school. The faculty was populated with players from the city's well respected symphony orchestra, and members of the student body had been winners of most every major music competition in the country, if not the world.

She was just a farm girl with a pretty voice and a dream.

When she got her acceptance letter, she felt equally ecstatic and anxious. Neither of those feelings had diminished much since then. After all, she had nothing to compare herself against back home. In a world where most of the singing was done by roosters and church-goers, she had no way to know if she would even remotely fit in at the conservatory. She'd only ever been to one opera in her life, when her father took her to New York for a weekend to see Rigoletto.

Sandra had pleaded with him to take her for months. She felt silly applying to a vocal department at a major music conservatory having never even seen her dream in person. It would be like entering an astronomy program without ever having looked through a telescope.

"Would you buy a tractor without test driving it?" she had asked him.

She knew he understood, but it was just a matter of time and money. Her dad found a little of both and they ended up in fourth row seats at the Metropolitan.

The test drive was a smashing success; she came back deeply moved, and inspired for her approaching audition. It may have been what put her over the edge with the voice teachers.

Her mother supported Sandra unconditionally, her father with some reservations. It was expensive to attend Wexford, over twenty thousand a year when everything was factored in. He wanted her to follow her dream, but the financial aid was mostly in the form of loans that would be hanging around for years.

Sandra had never let her parents down, and she wasn't going to start at Wexford. Years of driving two hours to her biweekly voice and piano lessons in Columbus, years of getting up earlier than usual so that Sandra didn't have so many chores, and years of buying tapes and videocassettes of operas were not unappreciated by Sandra.

As she stepped out of her dad's pickup truck in front of the school a week ago, she had made herself those promises. Concentrate on school. Take it slow with any boys.

Part of her hoped that everyone at Wexford would be focused on their music to the point of being reclusive and geeky about it. Then her promises would be easy to keep.

-------

But I didn't plan on meeting people like Emily and Richard.

Sandra sat on her bed, sighing. Richard had wound her up tightly, for sure.

She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to recall his touch. It wasn't the same. He had magic fingers.

So did Emily. When she added her touch last night, Sandra had shivered. For a moment she had imagined four hands caressing her body everywhere. Four hands, even two mouths... 

Stop!

Sandra took a deep breath. Is this what city people did? She could no more imagine having had her friend Annabelle join her and Billy for ... for fun, than she could imagine her father singing opera at the Met in his overalls.

And yet ... the thought kept replaying in her head. She imagined herself lying naked on the bed, as four hands stroked her legs, her tummy, her chest, her hair. Or maybe they floated in an abstract cushion, neither upright or horizontal. She could see it like it was a painting: her blond hair splayed out around her, her smooth skin glowing sensuously, Richard's and Emily's more olive toned arms contrasting against her flesh, moving across her...

Sandra ran quickly to the door, her heart beating hard. She threw the chain into place. As she unbuttoned her shorts, she looked out of the peephole. Without waiting any longer, she threw herself on her bed.

Her fingers gave way into theirs, leaving trails of goose bumps in a sinuous pattern on her body. Her face would be lost in reverie, her arms covering her breasts and womanhood demurely. The four hands on her body moved everywhere, urgently and delicately caressing her, exploring her, exciting her.

The image changed as the trio of now nebulous forms kissed. Their three heads formed a red, blonde and black trefoil seen from overhead. Then the image whirled away like a kaleidoscope as Sandra started to go over the edge.

-------

Everything was hyper-realistic as she jumped up off her bed. Am I imagining things, or did someone knock? She ran over to the door and looked out through the peephole, quickly putting her clothes back into place. Her heart leapt when she saw that Richard was outside. Just as she undid the chain, she heard him greet someone. A jingle of keys gave way to Emily appearing in view.

Sandra watched, her hand on the knob, as Richard leaned over to Emily and gave her a quick but hot kiss on the lips.

Oh my god! Where did that come from?

Emily seemed slightly surprised, looking up and down the hall. Then the keys jingled again.

Sandra pulled the door open just as Emily touched the key to the lock.

Sandra knew she was flushed and still breathing hard. She could blame it on the heat, but didn't want to.

Richard and Emily stared at her for a second.

"Are you all right?" Richard asked. He seemed a little flushed too. So did Emily, for that matter.

Sandra looked at Emily. A slight smile crossed Emily's face. Does she know? Sandra wondered. She was still tingling inside from her aborted climax.

Sandra smiled sincerely at Emily, and then stepped up to Richard. She kissed him hard, like she had meant to do the night before. Her tongue slipped into his mouth for a moment, and then she withdrew herself slowly. Sandra's knees almost gave way as she backed into the room unsteadily, eyes locked on Richard's.

Everything depends on Richard now,  she thought.



-------

Chapter 6: Intermezzo



Richard thought his heart had stopped. To his right, Emily was watching him with a slight grin, and in front of him Sandra was looking at him like she was about to collapse on the bed. It was hot in the dorm, but that hot?

Suddenly Emily pushed Richard into the room. Richard turned to her and watched as she reached to close the door.

Is she leaving me alone with Sandra? he thought, as Emily stepped back out into the hallway, pulling the door shut.

"Emily, wait," Sandra called out as the door was about to shut. Her voice sounded nervous.

The door stopped closing, and then cracked open a little more.

"Come back," Sandra said.

Emily opened the door and stood in the frame, looking at Sandra. Emily didn't seem angry at all, but rather amused.

Sandra brushed by Richard and stood in front of her.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?"

"For doing that. I know you and Richard are together."

Emily laughed. "We are?"

"I just saw you kissing him in the hall."

Emily froze for a moment, and then her face turned quizzical.

"So why did you kiss him then?" she asked.

Sandra turned and looked at Richard apologetically, as if realizing he was still there.

"I was desperate," she said quietly.

"There's no need to be," Emily answered just as quietly, moving into the room. Sandra backed up and let her in, allowing Emily to close the door.

Richard watched the girls, wondering what to do. If he was the object of competition between them, he didn't want to do anything to tip the balance one way or the other. He didn't quite understand what Emily's mood was all about.

"Kiss him," Emily said. It was a gentle command.

Sandra just looked at Richard for a moment. Then she slowly moved over to him. With a last glance at Emily, she gave Richard a kiss on the lips.

Richard felt his body tingle at her kiss, even though it was quick and slightly chaste.

As Sandra backed off, looking cautiously at Emily, Emily moved up to Richard and kissed him. Her kiss was not chaste. Richard took a step back from the intensity of her lips on his. In response Emily pulled on the back of his head. She slipped her tongue into his mouth, and then released herself from his body.

She looked at Sandra. Richard did too. Sandra was still flushed and now had a strange look in her eye. Richard wasn't sure what it was, but Emily seemed to know.

"What were you doing when we showed up at the door?"

"What?" Sandra said, startled out of her thoughts.

"Do you want us to give you a massage?" Emily said.

Sandra looked back and forth between Richard and Emily, seemingly at a loss for words.

Suddenly it struck Richard why Sandra was flushed.

He went up to Sandra and put his arms around her, hugging her tightly. She softened in his arms, almost letting herself hang in them.

Richard ran his hands over Sandra's back as Emily drew the blinds. The room faced an open field, so it was more for mood than for privacy, Richard knew.

He stroked Sandra's spine through the fabric of her t-shirt. He took his time, feeling the point of her shoulder blade, and its ridge as he ran his fingers up and over her shoulders. Sandra had her eyes closed, her arms wrapped around Richard's middle, and her head pressed against his shoulder.

Emily had been digging in her music collection, and finally found what she wanted. Quietly in the corner, a slow, sultry Cuban rhythm started up. The volume was low enough so that only the pulse was really audible. Richard felt like he was in the back room of an exotic underground club.

Emily came up slowly behind Sandra, smiling sensuously at Richard. They looked at each other for a long minute, as Richard continued caressing Sandra's back.

Emily put her hands on Sandra's lower back, and began to move them slowly between and around Richard's. They swirled and danced their hands around each other's, covering Sandra's back with gentle and sensuous touches. She shuddered in Richard's arms, entranced.

After some time, Emily leaned in close to Sandra's ear.

"Kiss him for real."

Sandra took a deep breath, and then turned her head up to Richard, eyes still closed. She waited, and Richard lowered his head to meet her lips.

This time Sandra did not hold back. She kissed him like she had wanted to for the last two days. Gentle, and yet urgent. Richard responded in kind, meeting her tongue with his in a slow dance that matched the easy movement of the music.

Emily let her hands migrate from Sandra to Richard, and she pressed herself close against Sandra's back as she felt Richard's body. Richard in turn slipped his hands out from between the girls and pulled Emily tightly into the three way hug.

Sandra increased the intensity of her kiss now, and Richard found he was having trouble focusing on all the sensations he was feeling. One moment he was enjoying the touches of four female hands on his back. The next moment it was Sandra's form pressed against his, her soft yet firm body molding easily against his harder frame. Then it was Emily's back, and the fact she wore only a shirt. And finally, of course, Sandra's mouth making love to his. He was on sensory overload. But I can't complain! he thought.

Sandra let go of the kiss as Emily pulled away. Richard wondered if the fun was over. Was it just an overly friendly massage?

Apparently not, as Emily pulled on Sandra's hand. Sandra let herself be led to her bed, where she ended up lying on her front along the near edge.

"Time for a massage," Emily said quietly.

Richard joined her, kneeling on the floor at Sandra's bedside. Together they worked on her, starting with their hands on her back.

Sandra sighed contentedly as they touched her. It was almost like her dream. Almost. The clothes were still on. As they should be, she thought to herself, trying to resist the strong urge to rip them off.

But when Richard's hands moved under her shirt and onto the soft skin of her lower back, she couldn't stop herself. She rolled over and sat up. She fluidly peeled off her t-shirt, tossing it aside and returning to her prone position on the bed.

Richard felt his heart jump at this new development. Any doubts he had about how far things were going to go for the most part were swept away.

And Sandra's bare skin! It made his insides ache. She was amazingly beautiful to look at. Her waist and hips were so inviting, and the brief look at her partly exposed breasts had been almost surreal. He wondered if she still really wanted her bra on, but he wasn't going to press the unfolding situation. And why should he? He felt more aroused right then than he had ever remembered feeling with Tonia. Well, maybe. There were some wild times in Italy with Tonia. But still, he was fully clothed, and already he felt like he was on the tense edge.

Emily and Richard were now vigorously massaging Sandra's back. Richard glanced sidelong at Emily. She seems to really be enjoying this,  he thought. He figured that this was not a planned get-together, but he had to wonder how long Emily had been thinking about doing this. She certainly seems to be comfortable sharing me with Sandra.

Emily caught Richard's glance and smiled at him. She leaned over, and it took Richard a moment to realize she wanted to kiss him, not whisper something.

Again he found himself distracted from his hands as Emily kissed him. When he pulled away, he caught Sandra looking up at them. She just closed her eyes and let out a slight murmur.

Richard decided to press a little after all. As he took in Sandra's body lying before him, he wanted to feel more of her. Her long toned legs beckoned, and he responded by moving his hands over to them. Her short jean shorts allowed him view of their entire length, but he started modestly by gently kneading her calf muscles.

Richard moved around to the foot of the bed. From there he pulled and pushed on her lower legs, gently, and then firmly, working out the tension in them. They stretched on before him. Richard went a little further with each cycle, soon reaching the back of her knees, where he spent extra time with gentle caresses.

Emily stood and then straddled Sandra's butt, and began to really give Sandra a deep back massage. Richard breathed deeply, trying to take in every detail of the unfolding scene before him.

As Richard moved his hands higher up onto Sandra's thighs, he was pleased to feel her part her legs slightly. He worked his hands around each thigh, tracing the lines of each muscle.

When he began to brush the rough hem of the cut-off shorts, he pulled back, and gave Sandra some long strokes.

Then he climbed up behind Emily, looking over her shoulder and down at Sandra's completely bare back. Emily had undone Sandra's bra, and it lay apart to her sides. Richard snaked his hands around Emily and added his touch to hers. As he did so, his chin rested on Emily's shoulder. As he hoped, Emily turned and flitted her tongue into his mouth.

Her hands suddenly slipped over his, and then pulled upwards. Richard felt his hands move steadily up Emily's front, over her taut tummy and then onto her breasts. His fingers caught against her hardened nipples, bumping over them. Emily moved his hands for a moment against her shirt and then let go, still teasing him with her tongue. As she returned to caressing Sandra, she pressed herself against Richard's mouth. His hands ran little paths over her front, lingering only slightly each time on her breasts.

Emily only broke the kiss long enough to let her shirt slip between their lips on its way to the floor.

For a long time, Richard shifted his focus from kissing Emily to feeling her skin, to watching her hands on Sandra's skin, and to imagining more. He smiled to himself as he remembered that school hadn't even started yet.

-------

After what seemed like hours, Emily and Richard sank to the bed next to Sandra, who murmured vaguely. Emily was next to her, still stroking her back gently. Richard was spooned behind Emily, running a finger along the sinuous curve of her waist.

Richard felt like he was about to explode. His back was aching, his neck felt crooked and his lips were tired, but he was on the edge of what would be a huge climax, if he had the opportunity.

But after kissing and feeling Emily's body, they had let the passion slowly subside before laying down next to Sandra.

He could wait, if this was all that was in store for the morning.

Sandra turned her head towards them. As she registered that Emily was openly topless, her eyes widened slightly before melting into a content smile.

"Wow," was all she said.

"How do you feel?" Emily asked her.

Sandra shyly squeezed her eyes shut and grinned.

"I want more," she whispered.

"I know, me too," Emily said.

Richard stayed silent. He felt like the two girls were testing out their feelings about the relationship as they went. I guess they assume I don't have a problem with it. He had to admit he didn't.

As if in answer, Sandra spoke again. "How are you, Richard?"

"I'm good," he said, trying to stay as nonchalant as possible.

There was a long silence as they relaxed together. There's no need to rush things, Richard thought.

-------

The last planned event of orientation was dinner at the Dean's house out in the suburbs. If it wasn't for the opportunity for a good free meal, Richard would have preferred to chill in the dorm.

In the back seat of one of the large vans that were taking the students to the house, Richard sandwiched himself between his two friends.

Jer was in the next seat up.

"Feels just like riding the bus in high school," he said, leaning over the back of the seat.

"Where's Jenna?" Emily asked him.

"Eh, Joey said she couldn't come since she's not a first year."

"But she went on the city tour," Richard pointed out.

Jer shrugged. "I guess there's only enough food for us," he said. "What are you all doing this evening?"

The trio in the back seat looked at each other with slight grins.

"Um..."

"Brenae is having a party," Jer said. "It should be fun. Everyone's in town, now. Two kegs, too."

"If it's Brenae Smith that you're talking about, we can't go," Emily said. "Brenae and I had a falling out."

"Why?" Jer asked.

"Long story. Anyway, we have plans."

Jer nodded. "All right."

The Dean's house was nicely appointed. A huge backyard was setup for hosting the forty or so first-year Wexford students.

"Now we know where our tuition money goes," Emily said as they walked around the large and elegant house.

"Mm hm. What are our plans for tonight, by the way?" Sandra asked.

"I need to practice," Emily said matter-of-factly.

"Oh." Sandra was clearly disappointed.

Emily just rolled her eyes. "I was kidding. Let's just see what happens. I have some other fun games in the closet we can play, if nothing else."

At that, Sandra brightened again.

Richard had a feeling he knew what was going to happen when they returned to the dorm, and he figured Sandra was thinking the same thing. That she was excited about it made him excited.

-------

Dinner took forever. In an attempt to not appear anti-social, the trio split up to meet some other people, but after a half-hour they ended up alone in a corner of the yard.

Emily had brought a hacky sack and was trying to teach Richard and Sandra to hack. Sandra seemed to pick it up pretty quickly, but Richard was struggling.

"Don't be so spastic!" Emily said. "It's about smoothness. I thought you played some soccer."

"It's really different than a soccer ball," Richard protested, as he wildly stabbed at another errant hack with his foot.

"Are you going to find out when people are playing soccer?" Sandra asked Emily.

"Yeah, I'll ask. I keep forgetting."

"How long are we going to be here?" Sandra said, tapping her watch.

"Another hour or so."

"Great," she moaned.

Richard and Emily knew how she felt.

-------

"Are you sure you ain't coming to the party?" Jer asked Richard as he returned from showering.

"I'm sure," Richard said. He chose a shirt to wear for the evening.

"What's up with you and those two chicks anyway?"

"They have names, you know."

"I can't tell which one you are going for. But can tell you that Emily really digs you."

Richard laughed. If Jer only knew. "Really? Why do you say that?"

"She checks you out and shit."

"And shit? Well that's cool."

"Yeah, you should go for her. Leave Sandra for me, heh heh. All right, I'm out of here."

"Have fun."

"You too."

I will.

Richard lay on his bed for a while. The girls were showering, so he wanted to give them time to do whatever they did.

He wondered what his relationship with Emily and Sandra was going to turn into. He was still expecting one of them to pull out of the situation, but so far both girls seemed very interested in pursuing the three way relationship. The massage had proved that fairly conclusively.

What sort of public face would it take on, though? Close friends, or more? At some point people would know what was going on, unless the three of them kept their relationship very private. Richard wasn't sure if he'd like that. He'd kept his relationship with Tonia in Italy concealed from the town for various reasons (mainly due to her aggressive asshole brother), and it was the main regret he had. There was no way to steal a kiss at the café, or stroll arm and arm through the piazza. The secrecy certainly lessened the romance of the relationship, despite heightening the excitement of the sex.

The phone rang, but he decided not to answer it. His father's voice came over the answering machine speaker.

"Riccardo, I hope everything is going well for you. Call us when you can, and let us know how you are doing. I expect you are practicing hard! Ciao."

A relatively short message, Richard thought. His dad could be pretty long-winded at times, particularly when it came to practicing and working hard.

He still had a few days until his next lesson. Even though he had gotten some hours of practice in earlier in the day between the morning massage and the Dean's house, he was distracted, and didn't feel like he had really made progress on Ms. Tertychnaya's suggestions. He was having trouble getting his head into the music.

The excitement in his life lay elsewhere at the moment.

Tomorrow,  he promised to himself. School hasn't really started yet. Nothing wrong with a little break.

-------

Sandra was unusually giddy as she returned to her room after her shower. Emily had just finished drying her hair and was cleaning up the general disarray that had settled onto the floor.

"You know, I vowed to turn over a fresh leaf and be neat and tidy in college," she lamented.

"Me too," Emily admitted with a slight laugh. "I didn't have anyone breathing down my neck to clean my room, so I got really bad. This is actually very clean for me."

"Same here. When I moved out last week, I was surprised that the rug in my room was actually green."

Emily laughed. "Whoa, that's bad."

"Can I ask you something?" Sandra said, her tone more serious.

"Sure."

"Why were you going to leave me alone with Richard this morning?"

"I wasn't sure how you felt about ... me being there."

"Oh."

There was a brief pause.

"How did you feel during the massage?" Emily asked, looking Sandra in the eye.

"It was really cool," Sandra said, quicker than she wanted. "And a little strange, afterwards."

Emily nodded slowly. "Yeah. But not bad strange?"

"No," Sandra agreed. "It seemed like you were ready to let me have Richard alone, though."

"I was."

"Why? I know you really like him."

"And I know you really like him too," Emily countered.

"So if I wanted to be with him alone, you would allow that?"

Emily weighed Sandra's expression, trying to judge what she meant. "Of course."

"And you wouldn't be jealous?"

"I don't know. For now I'd try not to feel that way," Emily said cautiously. She knew that jealousy was inevitable, if Richard and Sandra chose to be together and exclude her.

Is Sandra looking to take Richard for her own? I can't tell, actually,  Emily thought. Her heart started to pound a little harder.

"He'd probably pick you anyway," Emily said at last.

"Why?"

"Because you are really pretty."

Sandra furrowed her brow. "So are you."

"No, not like you are. People think I'm cute, or whatever."

"It's not all about looks."

"No, but at this stage that's a part of it."

Sandra sighed. "You don't know what type of looks Richard is attracted to."

"Maybe not, but I'm sure that you are in his type. You are in everyone's type."

Sandra didn't reply. Emily moped on the bed for a moment.

"I'm sorry, that wasn't..." Emily said.

Sandra sat next to her on the bed. "I'm not looking to take Richard away from you. I know you really like him. So do I. I've never done anything like this. This whole week I keep expecting to wake up feeling jealous that you like him too. But that isn't happening. I don't know why, but ... I think it's because I really like you too."

Emily didn't say anything, so Sandra continued. "And you're not the first person to tell me that they are intimidated by my looks. What's funny is that when I was in eighth grade, I really liked this guy, Jarrett. I'd write whole novels about my crush on him in my journal."

Emily laughed a little.

"Anyway, I asked him to go to the spring dance at the end of the year," Sandra continued. "And he said no! And then he ended up going to the dance with someone else. Lucy Barber. And I feel terrible saying this, but at the time I thought she was ugly. She had that feather cut, you know, that everyone had stopped doing a few years before that. Kids said she looked like Mick Jagger!"

Emily really laughed this time. "That's pretty mean!"

"Yeah. But it turns out that Jarrett and Lucy got engaged this summer. They were meant for each other. They are way more happy than I've ever been with any of my boyfriends."

"Mm."

"Jeez, I sound like such a mother!"

"It's all right. I haven't had one lately," Emily said.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it that way!"

Emily smiled. "I know."

Sandra gave Emily a brief hug.

"So," Emily said, "basically what you are saying is that I look like Mick Jagger?"

"Emily, of course not!" Sandra said, still horrified from her previous comment. Then she realized that Emily was just joking, and the two girls started laughing uncontrollably.

"So what are we going to do with Richard?" Sandra asked, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Be friends, have fun," Emily said. "Drink wine."

Sandra chuckled. "You and your wine."

"You love it and you know it. You better get changed; he'll be here soon."

Sandra gave Emily another squeeze and then stood to put on her clothes.

"You know, it could be worse," Sandra said.

"What?"

"Richard."

"Yeah, he's a good find," Emily agreed. "Definitely not Mick Jagger."

"I wonder what he thinks about all this?"

"Somehow, I doubt he's complaining."

Sandra giggled. "Yeah, he must think he landed in heaven."

Emily watched Sandra put on her clothes. "He has."

-------

Richard wasn't sure where the nervousness in his stomach was coming from as he walked down the stairs to the girls' room. Clarinets, violins, and sopranos greeted him, as people tried to get in their last bit of practicing before quiet hours.

It's Saturday night. Do they practice twenty-four hours a day? He heard his father's message again in his head, urging him to work hard. Tomorrow, I buckle down.

When he knocked on the door, Emily told him to hold on. Apparently Sandra was still partly nude. A risqué remark almost jumped out of his mouth, but he decided to take the more gentlemanly approach and he told her to take her time.

Finally Emily opened the door, smiling broadly.

"Look, Anne Ramsey is here!" she said to Sandra, who was out of sight. Sandra started laughing.

"What?" Richard exclaimed.

"Nothing. Inside joke."

"Well, can I come inside?"

Emily paused, narrowing her eyes. "I'm definitely okay with that. You have to ask Sandra, though."

Sandra appeared. Her hair was wet and close against her head. "Hey. Why are you still in the hallway?"

Before Richard could protest, the two girls pulled him inside and shut the door loudly.

They seem unusually bubbly,  he thought. He wondered if they had already gotten into the wine, but the two bottles on the desk were unopened.

"What took you so long?" Emily asked, as she uncorked a wine bottle.

"I had to shower, too," Richard said.

"Didn't know you were that prissy."

"Prissy? Whatever. I was lying on my bed doing nothing for twenty minutes. I figured you two would need prissy time."

"Nah, we've also been laying on the bed waiting," Sandra said. Emily glanced at her with a slight smile.

"And yet you were just now putting on clothes?"

Sandra gave an innocent shrug. She couldn't help but laugh as she saw Richard start imagining things.

"Wine?" Emily said, offering two glasses.

"Thanks. So who the hell is Anne Ramses?" Richard asked, taking one for himself.

"Ever see that movie The Goonies?" Emily said.

"Yeah?"

"She played the bad momma."

Richard thought for a second, and then realized who she meant. "What the fuck? How am I Anne Ramses?"

"It's Ramsey," Emily corrected.

"We were just talking about how some people look like famous people," Sandra explained casually.

"And you think I look like Anne Ramsey!?" Richard said.

"There's a resemblance," Emily said.

Sandra continued to laugh as Richard checked in the mirror.

"I look nothing like her!"

Sandra was laughing so hard she spilled some of her wine on the rug. There were now two purple stains on the white weave.

"Hey! Quit spilling on my rug!" Emily cried.

Richard sprawled into Emily's desk chair. "You two are out of control. Already."

His comment was met with scowls, followed by more laughter.

It was going to be a long evening, Richard knew.



-------

Chapter 7: Theme and Variations



Sandra poured the last of the second wine bottle into Emily's glass. She thought it would help slow Emily down, but she seemed to get better at playing games the more she drank.

The game of choice for the evening was admittedly puerile. Emily had voted for Trivial Pursuit. Sandra had voted for Spit. She was in the mood for something less cerebral, and mention of it the night before had stuck with her. Richard broken the tie in Sandra's favor.

After the vote, Emily rolled her eyes.

"Fine, we'll play Spit," she had said. "I'll warn you, though, I'm a champion Spit player."

Richard and Sandra had laughed, but Emily turned out to be right. She had lightning hands and eyes, and she always got the smallest pile. Plying her with wine had not helped either.

It was now the final round of the game, as Emily had only a few cards left. Unless Richard or Sandra could slap the empty 'pile' before Emily did, she would remain undefeated in all their games to date.

"Spit!" Emily cried, and the three of them began to throw cards onto the two piles.

Richard was funny, Sandra thought. He always seemed to put a card down a split second after Sandra or Emily did. After letting out an expletive, he'd be forced to remove it, losing precious time in the process.

And one time, he had actually finished his cards first and had slapped the largest pile. Not the best strategy for a game where you win by getting rid of all your cards. He quietly admitted he had felt some confusion in all the excitement of having finished first.

Emily quickly disposed of most of her cards. Sandra just waited, and watched Emily closely. Richard seemed oblivious of the impending finish as he slowly went about putting down cards.

Emily caught Sandra's eye as she held her last card in hand. For a few long moments, the two girls stared each other down, eyes glinting and smiles broadening. As soon as Emily put her card down, Sandra would have to grab the empty pile.

Otherwise, Emily would win.

Emily dropped the card and both Emily and Sandra slapped the empty place on the rug.

Richard was brought out of his concentration by the shrieks. Then he realized Emily was finished. There was a hand wrestling match to prove which girl had gotten to the rug first, or most.

"Emily! I'm there! Look: your hand is on top of my finger!" Sandra said.

"Because you moved it!"

"Richard, you judge. Who is on the spot?"

Before Richard had a chance to even wonder where the invisible pile they had grabbed for actually was, a wrestling match broke out. Apparently they are trying to claim the pile with their bodies, now,  he thought.

The game was over. Cards scattered across the rug and under the beds as Emily and Sandra squirmed and pushed against each other, trying to gain ground to claim the magic spot. Shrieks punctuated the increasing laughter. Richard watched for a bit, laughing, and then he remembered that last time the girls had started play fighting he got in trouble for not joining in. And, after all, he had as much right to fight for the winning pile as they did! Nothing is decided yet.

With a yell, he jumped into the fray...

-------

"Have those always been there?" Richard asked, pointing to a line of Christmas lights hanging over the window.

The three of them were sprawled on the rug after the wrestling match, looking at the ceiling. Richard had eventually placed his body flat on the floor over the entire game area, and was unmovable despite fierce tickling. The girls eventually conceded that he had claimed the pile. However the cards were irreparably scattered around the room, and thus Emily declared herself the winner. No one had the energy left to protest, so instead the girls rolled off of Richard and everyone tried to regain their breath.

"No, just put them up this morning," Emily said. "Still, unpacking, you know."

"Cool."

"When did you start playing piano?" Emily asked.

"I was six," Richard said. "Why?"

"Just wondering. For someone who's played piano for twelve years, you sure have slow hands."

Sandra sniggered.

"Thanks, Em," Richard said sarcastically.

"Did you start in school?" Sandra asked.

"No, at home. My dad was painting a house and the people were selling their piano. So he traded some painting work for it. He always wanted to learn, but his family in Italy never got him an instrument. They lived out in the sticks, and didn't have much money."

"That was nice that he got it for you, then," Sandra said.

"Yeah. I came home from school one day and there it was. I took to it pretty quickly, and they found a good beginning teacher for me."

"And the rest is history," Emily said.

"Not really," Richard countered. "I went through a number of years where I didn't really want to play."

"Didn't we all?" Emily said.

"No, I never really did," Sandra said. "I loved singing my whole life."

"Well, you're just weird," Emily teased.

"And you're drunk!"

"No, I'm not!"

"Ladies, please," Richard said. "Mind your manners."

"I want to hear you play," Sandra said suddenly.

"Sure." Richard turned and watched her for a moment.

Sandra smiled expectantly.

"You mean right now?" Richard asked, surprised.

"Yeah."

"Do you have a piano in your closet?"

"The building is still open for another half-hour," Emily countered, eyeing the clock.

"I don't even know if I can play right now. I'm feeling this wine."

"So what? It will be fun. You can play for us for real some other time," Sandra said.

"Bring your French horn, then, Emily," Richard suggested.

"No way," she said, waving the thought away. "If I play it now, the horn will surely get drunk. Come on, Richard, play for us."

Emily jumped up and pulled Richard and Sandra to their feet, and a few minutes later the three of them were walking arm in arm to the conservatory building. Emily was singing loudly, pretending to be Sandra warming up.

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," Richard said during a break in her wild aria. "You will think I suck after hearing me play."

"Do you suck?"

"No, but..."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Nothing. Never played when I was this buzzed, though."

The building was surprisingly quiet. Only an oboe and a violin greeted them as they approached the practice rooms. Most of them were empty.

"Guess everyone is at the party," Sandra said.

"Hey, maybe one of the larger piano rooms is open. They're always taken by the same five or six girls. I swear they tag team for the room. I've never seen them empty."

Richard led Emily and Sandra to the piano rooms, and they were indeed unoccupied. Maybe this is the time to be practicing,  Richard thought.

He turned the light on to one of the rooms and shut the door. Richard stretched and sat at the piano. Emily moved a wooden bench over to one side of Richard, while Sandra pulled a chair up to his other side. They sat close enough that he would have to lean against them when he played low or high notes, but he didn't mind.

"I don't know what to play," Richard said vaguely, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Play something fast!" Emily said. "How about the piece you played in your lesson the other day?"

"Probably not," Richard said. "I'm having trouble walking normally right now, and that's a lot easier than playing the Liszt."

"Something pretty, then," Sandra said.

Richard considered the pieces he had under his fingers at the moment, and finally settled on something. He ran a few phrases on the piano to test his fingers, and was pleased at the response of the instrument. No wonder those girls practice in here. This piano is much better than the ones in the smaller rooms.

"All right, here's part of a Beethoven Sonata I'm working on. I warn you though, it could be ugly. Any mistakes I make are strictly your fault for dragging me out here."

"Whatever. Let's hear it," Emily urged.

Richard took a deep breath, and started. The piano rang beautifully as he played the quiet theme that opened the movement. At first he was trying hard to concentrate on playing correctly, but then he realized it wasn't as difficult as he thought. The music was in his muscles more than the wine was.

The peaceful melody was a sudden change from the rowdy evening. Each note sang purely, and he reveled in the sound. He played the theme slower than he had ever played it, dwelling on each note.

By the end of the statement of the theme, he found himself sliding into that place where the rest of the world faded away.

The first variation of the theme was only slightly more active, and he concentrated on making the melody sing. He imagined Sandra vocalizing it, and he tried to make his fingers push the phrases around like she might.

He had planned on stopping after the first variation, but instead continued through the second. This one was a bit more challenging, with its syncopated figures. His fingers nimbly navigated the keys, and he was surprised that he only made a few errors.

When he stopped, he realized Sandra and Emily were looking at him intently.

"Jeez, Richard," Emily said.

"I know, I fucked up a few times," he said apologetically.

Emily shook her head. "You never said you were awesome."

Sandra held out her arm in confirmation. Her fine hairs were sticking up.

"Well, thanks," he said, not knowing what else to say. He was a little surprised. He had played it a little differently than he usually did, but the girls' response was more than he expected.

"That's a really beautiful melody," Sandra said. "Is that where it ends? It seems short for a theme and variations."

"No, there are four more."

"Play, then," Emily said.

"Mm, I don't know. The next parts are pretty hard."

"Just try it," Sandra pressed.

Richard shrugged. "All right."

Variation three was the most aggressive of the lot, and he had some trouble keeping the finger work clean. But he got through it.

He was surprised to feel Sandra's hand rest on his back as he played.

The fourth variation was usually the hardest for him. He still hadn't settled into playing it comfortably in the few months he had been working on the piece. It wasn't overly technical, but the music was a series of playful phrases repeated over each other, and he always felt like he wasn't connecting them properly.

At first, he almost stopped after the first few notes, since he lost confidence in being able to play it. But then as he started the phrases, the music suddenly presented itself differently.

Earlier during the massage, he had been stimulated by the girls in several ways. The kissing, the touching, the movements and the sight of their soft skin was overwhelming. He had lamented how he couldn't absorb all the sensations he was feeling at once.

Richard suddenly realized that that was his problem in this section as well. He was focusing too much on the specific phrase of the moment.

It was a trio, three voices singing in harmony. He just needed to put his attention on all of them at once.

At first it was juggling, like listening to three phone conversations at once and trying to understand them all at the same time.

But as he let the music slip through him, he started to feel the three melodies. He could imagine Emily and Sandra each playing one part, and him playing the third. Each part had to sing beautifully, and yet they had to sing together, between and around each other.

Somehow his fingers began to follow his thoughts. They moved smoothly to cover the notes for each melody. Suddenly many of the things Ms. Tertychnaya had said about chords and melody in the Liszt made real sense, now.

He stopped after the variation ended, amazed at the revelation.

"Richard, that was ... amazing!" Sandra said softly.

Emily nodded.

Richard just stared across the top of the piano, hearing the variation repeating in his head.

"Are you all right?" Emily asked.

"Yeah. Just found a new way to play that part."

"Well, it was good, whatever you did."

"I'll play the last two now," he said, eager to finish the piece.

Almost in a trance, Richard started the march-like fifth variation. He tried again to think in terms of voices, again imagining Sandra and Emily playing with him. It was harder with this movement, since it was a bit faster, but he could see the possibilities. He almost got distracted with excitement.

The sixth and final variation was his favorite, and he put everything he had into it. He thought of Emily and Sandra, and how he wanted to be with them.

The variation started with a quiet repeat of the theme, and bar by bar, increased in intensity.

The piano became an extension of his mind. As he heard the music in his head, he willed it through his fingers, through the ebony and ivory of the keys, and onto the strings and wood of the instrument. From there each tone rang out into the room and into his and Emily's and Sandra's ears, completing the circle. It sounded just as he wanted it to sound.

The climactic moment was almost overwhelming, and he let his fingers cascade across the difficult arpeggios with ease, listening in awe to the music that flowed through him.

Finally the variation subsided and he played the solemn restatement of the original theme. Again he played it slower than usual, relishing each note resolving into the next.

The final E major chord rang for many long seconds before it became inaudible.

He took a deep breath as he let his hands fall from the keyboard. Emily and Sandra were smiling at him.

"You know, I just remembered something," Richard said quietly. "A couple of years ago, I asked my piano teacher if I could play one of the late Beethoven sonatas. He said no. I played him the first few minutes of one sonata, saying that I did have the technique. And he said, 'Yes, you do. But you are too young. You can't understand the music yet.' I told him that I did understand it, and that it was tremendously moving to me. And he still denied teaching any of them to me.

"And so this summer I started learning this one on my own. I never really knew what he meant about understanding the music. I thought I was ready. But I just realized that maybe I'm not."

"Why?" Sandra asked. "That was simply incredible. You had me tingling the whole time. And when you played the theme again at the end, I felt like crying."

"I know, me too," Richard agreed. "I just had a glimpse into the music I've never had before. I could feel it coming through me, and it made so much sense to let it play through me like that. The technique and the notes and the fingerings were gone. Instead I just heard the music, and made it happen."

Richard was absently fingering a few chords as he spoke. Suddenly Emily leaned over and kissed Richard passionately. The music had inspired her.

Richard's chords trailed off as he wrapped an arm around Emily's waist and returned the kiss.

A knock on the door startled the three of them. The grinning front desk monitor held his watch up to the little window, and tapped it. The building was closing in a few minutes.

"Let's go," Emily said quietly.

The walk back to the dorm was as quiet as the walk over had been boisterous. None of them spoke. They simply walked briskly back to the girls' room, arm in arm.

-------

The room was completely dark. No sooner had she closed the door, Emily returned to kissing Richard. Sandra plugged in the row of mini blue Christmas tree lights, bathing the room in dark blue shadows.

She went to her CD stack and held a few up to the dim light. She finally found what she was looking for, and put it into the stereo. It was perhaps her favorite piece of music, and now she would be listening to it with Emily and Richard. As she pressed the play button, the thought made her shudder in pleasure.

Emily had pushed Richard down so he sat on the edge of her bed, and had removed his shirt. She promptly climbed up onto his lap, and resumed her aggressive kissing of him. Sandra watched intently as her two friends groped at each other. It made her body tingle.

Richard reached a hand out to Sandra and pulled her gently over to the bed. With Emily watching from just a few inches away, Sandra and Richard kissed softly. Emily could hear the quiet sound of their lips pulling apart and their tongues raking against each other.

Emily and Richard became aware of the music Sandra had put on. It had started low and almost inaudible, and now was beginning to fill the room with basses and cellos playing a canonical theme.

Sandra reluctantly released the kiss and backed away to the center of the room. She wanted to kiss Richard all night, except that she also wanted to do other things all night. Since this morning she had been moist and insatiate. She couldn't wait any longer.

She pulled at the hem of her shirt, slipped it over her head. She never stopped holding Richard's eyes in her stare.

Richard watched raptly as her hands went behind her back. The black bra lost its tension and Sandra's breasts were suddenly free. Richard sat stone-still, watching her pale skin glowing in the faint blue light.

Sandra did not stop there, unbuttoning her jean shorts, and then running her thumbs around her waist as she pushed them down over her legs. The curve of her hips as she bent a little to pull each leg out of the shorts was irresistible.

Next went the panties. Richard watched as the triangle of light hair revealed itself. Again he watched the bend at the waist, and again he felt a surge in his middle.

Sandra stood straight again, watching Emily and Richard. Emily got up from Richard's lap, and pulled him up. She gently pushed him towards Sandra.

Richard took Sandra into a hug, and then kissed her deeply. He could feel her hard nipples pressing into his chest. His hands wandered over her back, and down onto her butt. How smooth she is! He wanted to be fully naked, like she was.

As if hearing his thoughts, he felt Emily wrap her arms around him from behind. Her hands squeezed in between Sandra's and his chests, and then lower until she found his shorts. She made short work of them, baring his body to the blue lights in one quick pull.

Richard was pressed against Sandra. She let out a slight giggle as she felt him pulsing against her tummy. It felt so good, even there. She couldn't imagine how good it would feel later.

Emily watched as Richard and Sandra held each other in the center of the room. Richard whispered something to Sandra, and she whispered something back. Their kissing was a little heavier now.

Sandra obviously liked what she felt when I pulled Richard's shorts off! Emily thought. She had never watched anyone have sex in front of her before, and now the possibilities were tearing through her mind. Richard and Sandra were going to do it, but how? And what should I do?

Emily ran her hand over Richard's firm butt cheek. The taut muscle cut in slightly, which she thought was very sexy. Her finger traced the top of his crack briefly, and then she slipped her hand between his legs. She gently caressed him, and then moved her hand further. Her fingers brushed Sandra's light hair slightly.

Sandra felt a little jolt of surprised pleasure as Emily's hand touched her. Before she could wonder at its meaning, Emily's hand moved up between them, running up Richard's length.

Richard gasped as she moved her hand slowly up and down. As the multitude of sensations began to fill him, he tried to entertain them all, like he had with the piano music earlier. Opening his mind to the physical and emotional pleasures was incredible. Everything else disappeared, and he was in a state where Emily's and Sandra's touches spoke to him, and he felt them all at once.

Emily withdrew her hand, and watched as Sandra pulled herself away from Richard's body. She glanced for a moment down along his body, and then looked at Emily. Emily could tell she was very excited by the deep breath she took, and her dark, shining eyes.

The music continued to grow, like an inexorable tidal wave. Violas and violins now carried the theme higher into the blue air.

Emily removed her clothes. She did not intend to give the same show Sandra had, but Richard and Sandra watched nonetheless. She wiped attempts at comparison between her and Sandra's bodies away, and instead concentrated on watching them.

Richard took Emily in his arms now, and pressed himself against her. He was pleased to feel Sandra press herself against his back. Her arm snaked between Emily's and his bodies. She gripped him and slowly felt his length.

She couldn't wait any longer. Sandra laid herself down on the bed, looking intently up at them. Richard laid down next to her, and pulled Emily onto the bed. Emily let out a surprised laugh as she fell onto their bodies.

The space on the twin mattress was minimal, but that was for the best. Limbs intertwined and hands moved everywhere. Legs snaked in and out and around each other. Richard wasn't always sure who he was feeling at any given moment, but it didn't matter. He didn't open his eyes to see whose lips were on his neck, or whose hands were in his hair. He just let his mind take in all the sensations at once.

The music subsided some, and eventually seemed to reach an equilibrium. The violins held an unwavering sustained note, while a tone on the piano rung out three times. As if it was a cue, Sandra rolled on top of him.

Out of the uncertainty, a female voice began to sing a poignant melody. For a moment Richard thought it was Sandra, but when he looked up at her, her mouth was closed and she was smiling slightly.

Sandra lowered herself onto Richard. She was only vaguely aware of Emily now, lying by his side on the bed. Instead the core of her feeling was focused on the intersection of her body with Richard's, becoming deeper as she relaxed onto him.

When she had filled herself, she let out the breath she had been holding and began to move. He met her thrusts a little more urgently each time.

Emily watched her two friends as they moved their bodies against each other, and couldn't help but touch herself. She hoped Richard would be able to go again after he was finished with Sandra; if not, she would wait.

Emily kissed Richard, and he reacted feverishly to her lips. His hand strayed from Sandra's hip to Emily's arm, and he traced down to where she was pleasuring herself. He grasped her hand and intertwined his fingers with her fingers and her moisture. Emily moved his hand with hers, directing it inside of her slightly, and then up across her sensitive spot, and then down over her inner thighs.

Sandra was waiting for the music now. She was on the edge, keeping her climax away by slowing her pace. How many times had she come to this section of the music, she did not know; but it had always been alone. Now she was with two others.

The climax of the music approached, and she slowly let herself go. She urged Richard on with a quiet 'Yes!' which he responded to by renewing his thrusting. With a last soaring phrase by the singer, the orchestra took over, washing the song away with a return of the previous wave of intensity.

Richard felt Sandra's body stutter against his, and he broke the kiss with Emily to look up at Sandra. She had her eyes tightly shut and her hands pressed hard against his chest. A slight whimper was the only sound she made. Richard moved his hand back to Sandra's hip and was doing all the work, as Sandra's body had frozen in place.

Emily watched as Richard's breathing quickened, and soon he tightened up as well. With some last labored thrusts, he let out a groan and then collapsed back into the bed. Sandra fell onto his chest, spent.

Over the next several minutes, the music wound through its previous ascension in reverse, and the wave passed and began to dissipate. No one moved for a long while.

Richard's hand was back on Emily's skin. She smiled as he began to caress her thigh, working his way into her private region again. This time she did not guide his hand, but parted her legs to allow him to enter.

His fingers played little melodies on her, and gently explored her entrance. A little rub would seem to be the start of serious touching, but then he would trace his finger over to another part of her.

When Sandra rolled off of Richard with a content sigh, she watched him turn to Emily and kiss her gently. The music was echoing in her head as the last strains of the basses faded away. Her body was still pulsing in time with Richard's final thrusts. She wanted more, but it was Emily's turn.

The second movement began, shimmering lightly. Richard rolled himself onto Emily, and kissed her neck.

"Do you need me to put on a condom?" he whispered.

Emily smiled, noting that he hadn't gotten her meaning earlier, after all. "No."

Richard shifted down the bed some, taking her nipple into his mouth. He was not quite hard again, but he felt the blood returning. The music turned darker as the singer returned. The melody was drawn out, and deeply beautiful. Richard wondered how Emily would react to it. She was so active and wonderfully aggressive most of the time, that Richard thought the music was contradictory. It fit Sandra just right, but he didn't know about Emily. He had pictured her as a wild lover.

He looked over at Sandra, who was watching them with happy eyes. Her hand caressed his shoulder softly as he licked around Emily's hard nipple, and then she sensuously drew her smooth calf along his butt.

He was ready now. He moved back up over Emily, and she could sense the moment. She parted her knees more, and guided Richard to enter her. Emily's smile grew as Richard slowly moved into her.

Sandra turned to lie on her side, facing them. As she watched Richard press against Emily, she saw something in her that she hadn't seen before. A fascinating delicate passion emerged. Emily's hand moved so gently over Richard's chest, and her movements were so graceful. Her look was almost peacefully ecstatic.

Emily closed her eyes, and held Richard tight to her. Everything was ultra sensitive. The slightest of his movements was like an earthquake. She kept Richard from moving, and instead she reacted to the music. She drew her legs up and squeezed herself around him inside and outside, gripping him everywhere she could.

Richard reacted with a murmur. She squeezed him again, and let him begin to move again. He reacted to her gentle hands on his body. Eventually Emily's hands fell to her chest, and her head turned to the side. Her legs were locked around his butt, and she began to pull him in, deeper and firmer. But never aggressively.

Emily opened her eyes, and saw Sandra smiling at her. Sandra's eyes went back and forth between Richard and Emily as she watched their expressions grow more intense. She wondered how Emily came. It appeared she would soon find out.

Richard had no need to control himself as much as with Sandra, being his second orgasm. He patiently drew himself in and out of Emily, and watched her excitement grow. He took longer strokes, sometimes coming completely out of her, and then parting her again.

Emily pulled Richard down onto her as she got close. His hard body crushing hers was enough to tip her over the edge. The climax came tentatively at first, teasing her by flitting at the edges. The music seemed to almost hold it in limbo. Then Richard perhaps sensed it, and he worked slightly faster.

It was all she needed. Gently the rings of vibration swam away from her middle and radiated up through her head. Richard's movements fed them, and they continued to grow until her body was saturated, and they reverberated in her like a hundred echoes.

For a while no other sense entered her; the vibrations swept everything away.

Richard rolled off of her and into the space between Sandra and Emily. That was different, he thought. So slow, and sweet, and unexpected.

Sandra gave him a gentle kiss before laying her head down again.

-------

Emily wasn't sure if Richard had even finished. A third movement of music had begun, and that had brought her back to earth. What is this music? she wondered.

The haunting melody made her want to lie there forever, languishing in the vague cusp between physical pleasure and emotional excess. The slow two note figure which repeated itself over and over again in the strings was trance-inducing. In and out, in and out.

Emily, Sandra, Emily, Sandra,  Richard thought. He was spent. The music seemed to come from the very air around him, and hold him in place between his two lovers. Sandra had a leg and arm draped over him, and was breathing peacefully into his neck. No doubt asleep,  he thought.

He turned to Emily. She felt his movement and looked over to him. She turned to her side, face close to his, and put a hand on Sandra's hand. Both were over his heart.

For a long time they looked in each other's eyes, reading the thoughts that surfaced there. Eventually her blue-tinged face and sparkling eyes faded away. The music turned and turned like a floating leaf caught in the eddy of a slow stream.

Richard wasn't sure if it ever ended.

He knew he didn't want it to.



-------

Chapter 8: Allegro



Richard woke up quite late, and he was the first to stir. For a moment, he was startled by his location. He figured he would have gone back to his room last night after a brief snooze. Instead, it was late morning.

Emily was still beside him, but Sandra had moved to Emily's bed and was sleeping soundly. Richard grinned as he saw the remains of the evening strewn about the room. Playing cards were scattered on the floor, clothes sat in little piles, and two empty wine bottles stood on the table. The blue Christmas lights were still on, although they were long outshined by the morning sun seeping in through the drawn blinds.

"Morning," Emily said softly.

Richard turned to face her. "Good morning."

Emily smiled and stretched under the sheet. Her leg rubbed against his, and she murmured quietly.

"Did Sandra get up already?" Emily asked with a frown.

"No, she's in your bed," Richard answered.

She lifted her head, looking over Richard at Sandra, and laughed quietly. "I guess we kicked her out of her own bed," she said.

"There wasn't much room on the edge, I bet."

"Maybe she fell out," Emily said with a giggle.

"I don't know. I was too out of it to hear it, if she did."

"Oh, I don't feel like getting up," Emily said playfully, stretching again. A breast peeked out from under the sheet. She made no move to cover it.

"Me neither," Richard agreed. "But it's after eleven."

"Damn, are you serious?" She looked at the clock.

Sandra stirred in the other bed. "Hey," she said, peering at Richard and Emily from under the sheet.

"Someone's been sleeping in," Emily said.

"Look who's talking," Sandra retorted.

"Hey, we've been up for hours," she said impishly. "You know, doing stuff."

Sandra laughed. "Don't tease me like that. You both look like you just woke up. I'm hungry. What are we doing today?"

Richard looked at Emily.

"Why are you looking at me?"

"You're our fearless leader," Richard said simply.

Emily guffawed. "Oh, I had no idea!"

"Well, I do need to practice," Richard said, remembering his promise to himself.

"Last night wasn't enough?" Sandra teased.

"Actually I got more done last night than I did in two hours during the day," Richard admitted. "But still..."

"Maybe you should always drag us to your practice room and play for us," Emily said.

"Somehow I have a feeling that would get distracting pretty quickly."

The girls laughed. There was a slightly awkward pause as the three of them considered the situation at hand.

Emily decided to lead by example, so she sat up and stretched. "Let's go get lunch. I'm starving. Move," she said to Richard, tapping his arm.

Richard sat up and Emily got out of the bed. Richard kept his eyes from lingering, and instead he watched Sandra, still covered by the sheet. "When did you switch beds?" he asked her.

"I don't know, probably when you started hogging my third of the bed. I was clinging to the edge for a little while there."

"Sorry."

"It's all right. Emily's bed is actually very comfortable."

Sandra let out one more yawn and long stretch, and then got out of bed.

For a few moments there was nowhere safe to look. He didn't know how they felt about him staring at them by the sober light of the morning, but when he saw the small smiles on the girls' faces, he thought that perhaps he was being overly cautious.

He threw the sheet and his remaining modesty aside and got out of bed. Sandra and Emily eyed him for a moment.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," they said. Then they all giggled.

"Shower time," Emily said.

As the girls wrapped themselves in towels and headed to the bathroom, Richard donned his clothes and headed upstairs to his room.

Jer was lying on his bed, listening to music with his eyes closed. When he heard Richard shut the door, he looked up.

"Hey man. What's up?" He didn't look like he had gotten much sleep.

"Not much."

"You look like you just got up. Where have you been?"

Richard shrugged. "Here and there."

"Have you hooked up with one of those girls yet?"

"I ended up crashing in their room," he admitted.

"With both of them?" Jer asked excitedly.

Richard realized he didn't really feel like telling Jer every detail of his relationship status.

"I just hung out and fell asleep on the floor," he said, trying to make it sound as boring and innocent as possible.

"Oh. That's cool." Jer noticeably calmed down.

"How was the party?"

"Great, man. You missed a good one. Jenna was so wasted! It's probably good you weren't here last night."

"Why is that?" Richard asked.

"She wanted to come over and keep partying," Jer said, with a grin.

"Ah. Well, as long as you didn't use my bed..."

"Nah, plenty of room on the desk."

"The desk?" Richard exclaimed.

"My desk, don't worry," Jer said quickly.

Richard laughed and looked at Jer's desk, and noticed most of the desktop was cleared aside haphazardly. He immediately saw a vision of Jenna bent over it, with Jer giving it to her from behind. She's kind of short, and these desks are tall. Would she be on tiptoes? he wondered, before sweeping the vision away.

Richard grabbed his towel and clothes and headed for the door. "Your desk will never look the same, Jer," he said, shaking his head with a grin.

Jer just sniggered.

-------

"It's only been two days!" Emily said.

"I know. But I'm already getting tired of pasta and the salad bar," Sandra said. She was picking at the food on her plate. "Hey, it's the last night before school starts, let's go out to eat tonight!"

Richard coughed exaggeratedly.

"I'll pay," Sandra continued. "I have some money from my aunt. And it's her birthday tomorrow, we can celebrate that too!"

"A little desperate for excuses, aren't we?" Emily teased.

"I'm not sure how long I'm going to last, eating here," Sandra admitted.

"Fine, let's go out tonight," Richard said. "But I'll pay you back when I get my work study money."

Sandra clapped her hands happily. Richard sighed, wondering if he should just declare bankruptcy now. He couldn't even do laundry without borrowing quarters.

-------

Richard got lucky and found a practice room with one of the good pianos. It was not as nice as the large room he had played in last night with the girls, but those rooms were occupied as usual.

He was excited to be practicing, and he wondered if last night's revelation would still be as easy to translate to his fingers. Moreover, would Ms. Tertychnaya notice on Wednesday?

After warming up, he pulled out the Beethoven from his set of books. As he looked over the fingerings and markings, he could hear the music in his head. The melodies still intertwined with each other, and he could still hear them all at once. He began to play.

After a few minutes he stopped. His fingers were not completely up to the task of playing what he heard in his head, but that was expected. A small part of him hoped he would be fully ready to play in this new way, but he knew too well Mr. Schatten's words: Inspiration is instantly found; the technique to deliver it is built over time.

It was time to break down the fingerings and practice slowly.

-------

Four hours later, Emily popped into the room. It was a welcome break. Richard's fingers were getting tired, and his back was sore.

"Hey. How's it going?" Emily asked.

"Good. I'm making some progress."

"Sandra will..." Emily began. The door opened again, and Sandra came in. " ... be here any second."

"Here I am!" Sandra announced merrily.

"You're chipper," Richard said, smiling at the two of them.

"No Tapler food tonight!"

"Where are we eating, anyway?" Richard asked.

"Hmm ... There's a bunch of places up on Maple Avenue," Emily suggested. "We can walk that way. It's a bit of a hike, but it would be good to get some exercise after sitting in these rooms all day."

"Sounds good to me," Sandra said. "Are you done for the day?" she asked Richard.

"Yeah, I think so. I'm pretty tired and my back is tight."

Emily whispered something to Sandra, and they both giggled.

"What?" Richard asked.

"Did we wear you out last night?" Emily said.

"Not up to the task?" Sandra teased.

"Um..."

"If you're good at dinner, we'll give you a massage tonight," Sandra said, eyeing Emily.

Emily nodded. "If you're good," she agreed.

"What does that mean?" Richard asked skeptically.

"Just be on your best behavior."

"Didn't know I was usually that bad," Richard mused.

The girls laughed. "Lobby in twenty minutes?" Emily suggested.

"Half-hour. I need to shower. This room's an oven."

"Come to the room when you're ready, then," Sandra said with a smile.

-------

The shower was heavenly. He let the music leave his body along with the sweat from the day's effort, and when he got back to his room, he almost felt cool.

"This heat is killer," Jer remarked. He was prone on his bed, doing nothing.

"Have you moved since this morning?" Richard asked him.

"Nah, I fell asleep. Still chewing on this hangover, I guess."

Does this guy ever practice? Richard wondered.

"What's Jenna up to?" he asked Jer.

"She's helping her roommate unpack. Becky. She just got here last night. That's why we had to use, uh, the desk."

"No more sleeping in her room, then?"

"Nah, there's no space now, anyway. Boxes are everywhere. God, her roommate has a ton of shit!"

Richard sniggered. "Look who's talking."

"No, dude, I have nothing compared to her. She has a full kitchen with her! Microwave, blender ... she's like fucking Julia Child or something."

"Could be worse. You'll be wishing you had that stuff in a few months when the cafeteria food gets old."

"True. Still..."

"Well, I'm going to go eat."

Jer groaned and sat up on the bed. "Wait up, I'm coming." He let out a loud yawn.

Richard turned to him apologetically. "Actually, I'm going to Sandra and Emily's room first. And also we're going out somewhere, for dinner. Last night before school, you know."

Jer's eyes narrowed and he grinned. "Bastard."

"What!"

"Told you they liked you."

Richard laughed. "Yeah, you were right. If you hadn't pointed that out, I'm sure I'd be eating at the cafeteria now and going to bed early and alone."

"And instead?" Jer prodded.

Richard just shrugged.

Jer jumped up and followed Richard out the door. "All right, I'm gonna find Jenna. Try to, anyway."

Jer considered for a moment as they entered the stairwell. "Hmm ... Do I really want to go into their room right now?" he asked himself.

"You may get trapped forever," Richard warned. "But, at least you'd be able to cook."

Jer guffawed, and then headed up the stairs. "Have fun with your girlfriends," he said, grinning.

Richard just raised a brow at him, and then went down the steps.

As he entered the hallway leading to the girls' room, he paused. They did say to be good. He looked down at his clothes, and decided to put something a little nicer on. He didn't know where they would end up eating, but it couldn't hurt to wear something better than old jeans.

-------

"I don't know what to wear," Sandra said. She was pulling things out of the drawer in her closet.

"Well, Richard's going to be here any minute." Emily was lying on her bed, twiddling with the CD case Sandra had left out from the night before. I have to get this CD,  she thought.

"Nah, he's always late," Sandra said.

There was a knock. Sandra froze and looked at Emily, and then she laughed. Instead of putting on some clothes, she answered the door in her towel.

Emily chuckled. Lately, there was a certain girlish quality about Sandra, which was endearing.

"I'm not ready yet. Can you wait outside?" Sandra said to Richard.

A naughty response came to Richard's mind, but he choked it off before saying it. Be good.

"Of course," Richard said.

"I was kidding. Come help me pick something to wear."

"Me?"

"Is there anyone else standing in the hall?"

Sandra pulled Richard in and shut the door.

"Are you giving a recital tonight?" Emily asked him with an amused look. He was in dressed all in black.

"Funny."

"Looks nice," she added sincerely.

Sandra pulled out a green summer dress and held it over the towel. "This is one choice," she said.

"I like it. Wear that," Richard indicated with a nod.

"Quiet. I haven't shown you all the choices yet!"

"All?" Richard asked. "How many —"

"Shh."

Emily sniggered at the reprimand. Sandra modeled a few more options, and Richard made sure to sit stone still at the desk until she was done.

"All right, which one should I wear?" she asked at last.

"I still like the first one," Richard admitted.

"Okay. Turn around so I can change."

Richard smiled at the irony, but didn't say anything as he turned and looked out of the window. Be good.

"If you're going to wear that, then I need to put on something nicer," Emily said.

"Just let me know when it's safe. The view out the window is great," Richard said wryly.

There was some rustling of clothes, and whispers and giggles from the girls. Finally, Emily said they were ready.

Richard turned around, and stared for a few moments. How did I get so lucky? He was going out on a date with both of them, and they looked great. Emily had changed into a skirt and top, and Sandra's dress looked even better on her body.

"Shall we?" Sandra said.

"Can we just stay here?" Richard said, moving his eyes back up to theirs.

"No, don't be silly. We need to eat," Emily said. "Later, if you are a good boy..."

-------

The selection of restaurants in the neighborhood on Maple Avenue was extensive. Too bad I can't afford to take them here every week! Richard thought. The trio ended up at a nice Thai restaurant about a half mile from the dorm.

None of them had eaten Thai food before, so it took them some time to decide from the menu. In a bit of showing off, Richard asked for his dish to be very spicy.

That turned out to be a mistake.

"Holy crap, this is really hot!" he exclaimed after taking the first bite of the curry. "But really tasty."

"Well, you asked for spicy," Emily pointed out.

"Yeah, but this is insane! Back home, my mom grows hot peppers in our yard, and usually they're not killer hot or anything, but sometimes you bite into one and it rips your head off."

"So you're used to it, then," Sandra said.

"No, this is way worse!"

Emily laughed. "Have some more wine. It will take the edge off, one way or another."

Richard could already feel the heat spreading through his body. He took another sip of wine.

"So what are your schedules tomorrow?" Sandra asked.

"I just have ear training and piano class," Emily said.

"What do we do in piano class?" Sandra asked.

"Learn to play piano, I guess."

"I already play some," Sandra said.

"Maybe you can test out of it," Richard offered.

"Maybe. Are you in the twelve o'clock class?" Sandra asked Emily.

"Yeah," Emily said.

"Cool, me too. I have German at eight, though. Looks like I won't be sleeping in much this year."

"Ouch. My earliest class is at ten," Emily said.

"You suck."

"How many languages do you know, anyway?" Emily asked.

"Just Italian and French."

"Just," Emily echoed, raising her brow. "What are you doing tomorrow, Richard?"

Richard was chewing so he held up a finger.

"You're all red," Sandra observed with a grin.

Richard swallowed. He wasn't sure if his tongue was still in his mouth or if it had melted away.

"Hot," he gasped. "Whew. This is good, though. The flavors are incredible."

"Mine too," Sandra agreed.

"Tomorrow I have English, and ear training," Richard said.

"English. That sucks," Emily said.

"Don't laugh. English is not even my first language."

"Did you grow up in Italy, then?"

"No, but we speak Italian at my house. We do have a house in Italy and we spend summers there sometimes."

"You have a house in Italy?" Sandra exclaimed, her mouth half full. She closed it. "Sorry."

"Yeah," Richard said nonchalantly, though his insides surged at her excitement.

Sandra looked at Emily wide-eyed.

"That's so cool! When will you take us there?" Sandra asked.

"Um, when my work study money comes in next week?"

Emily coughed up her wine in a spurt of laughter.

"I'm ready," Sandra said. "Any time."

"After class tomorrow, then," Richard said.

"Oh, how I wish, Richard," Sandra said warmly. "I have few dreams, and one of them is going to Italy. Tell me your house is in the countryside."

"It is."

"Oh! In the hilly farmlands?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Right in the middle of the country, a few hours outside of Rome."

"You promise to take me someday?"

"Sure. I don't know if we're going this summer, but..."

"Someday."

He nodded. "Someday."

From the enchanted look on Sandra's face, Richard had a feeling he was being good, so far.

-------

Not long after finishing the last of the wine, Richard could feel his mouth again. The heat from the dish dissipated surprisingly quickly.

As Sandra and Emily were figuring the bill, a rumble shook the restaurant slightly.

"What was that?" Sandra asked.

"Sounded like thunder," Richard said.

Within a few seconds, it began to rain.

"Uh-oh."

"Anyone have an umbrella?" Emily asked.

"Maybe it will pass quickly," Richard said.

It did not. After twenty minutes, the rain was still steady.

"I guess we're getting wet tonight," Richard said, as they stood in the foyer watching the rain.

Emily gave him a look. "Is that all you've been thinking about this whole time?"

"What? Hey, that's not what I meant!"

"What do you think?" Emily asked Sandra.

"Cab?"

"I don't care."

"Me neither," Sandra said. I'm feeling a little daring, tonight,  she thought.

"Let's go then," Emily said, pushing the door open.

"We're walking home in this?" Richard asked.

"Yeah, so?"

Richard shrugged. "What about your shoes and clothes? And Purses?"

"They'll dry," Sandra dismissed.

"And then we have an excuse to take the clothes off when we get back. I thought you'd at least like that," Emily said, looking Richard in the eye.

Richard needed no further convincing. He wasn't sure if his shoes would survive the walk all that well, but he didn't really care much at that moment.

He went out into the sidewalk and held the door open for the girls. The first hit of rain was startlingly cold, but then it turned refreshing.

"It's really coming down," Sandra said, as they started the fifteen minute walk back to the dorm.

Quite soon they were completely soaked. Sandra's dress clung to her body so tightly that Richard could see the outline of her underwear. The sight was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but feel aroused.

Emily's clothing was less susceptible to clinging, but her white top became somewhat translucent, and Richard wondered if she ever wore a bra.

"Won't have to shower for a few days after this," Richard said.

"Eew."

"Just kidding."

Richard took Emily and Sandra on each arm, and they walked in lockstep, splashing in the puddles and singing random songs. Much laughter punctuated the night.

Richard had let his hands slip down their backs and onto their butts.

The movement seemed to be ignored until Emily spoke.

"Are you comparing asses?"

"No!" Richard answered, feeling his face heat up.

"Let's cut through the park. We can save a little time," Emily said.

"What, so we don't get as wet?" Sandra said sarcastically.

"No, so we can get back to the room faster." And take these clothes off,  she left unsaid.

They cut across the grass through the park. As they left the glow of the streetlights, Richard noticed mud accumulating on his black shoes. Definitely will need a new pair after this,  he thought.

"What's that?" Sandra asked, pointing to a red glow between some bushes, just visible in the darkness.

Sandra pulled them over to it. They entered the circle of high trimmed bushes through a lone gap. In the center was a circular fountain, surrounded by a garden of peonies. The water was still running in the fountain, despite the rain, and it was illuminated by a red light from inside the basin.

The trio moved to the edge of the fountain. The bottom was full of shiny coins, reflecting the red light in shimmering flashes.

"Hey Richard, look: now you can pay Sandra back," Emily said, pointing to the coins.

They all laughed.

"This is cool," Sandra said, gesturing to the enclosure. "It's like its own little world."

"Yeah," Emily and Richard agreed.

Sandra pulled Richard around and kissed him. Evidently, Sandra was as aroused as Richard was, and soon their hands were all over each other's bodies. Sandra's clinging dress was hardly a barrier for Richard to feel her supple flesh underneath.

"I feel like doing something crazy," Sandra whispered into Richard's ear.

Those words made Richard tense with excitement.

"What?"

"I want to do it right here."

"Right here?"

"Yeah." Sandra gently bit his ear.

Richard considered the risk for a moment. No one will come here in this rain unless they are crazy.

He whispered back to Sandra.

Emily watched as Sandra reached under her dress and pulled off her underwear. She worked it down around her legs, and then threw it onto the fountain ledge with a wet splat.

Sandra wrapped her legs around Richard's middle and kissed him hard. Her pale form was such a contrast to Richard's night-black outfit. It was almost as if she was floating in the air.

Richard let her slide off him, and he whispered in her ear again.

"Sit on the fountain," she said quietly.

Richard sat on the low ledge, near to Emily. He looked at her, and she gave him an encouraging smile. She wasn't sure if she was more excited at being able to watch this risky act, or at the possibility they would be caught.

Richard undid and lowered his pants. Emily reached out and stroked him a few times, watching the rainwater splash off of him. On impulse, she bent over and took him into her mouth, shuddering as the cool rainwater ran over her face and across her lips. Richard let out a surprised groan as Emily warmed him up.

After a few strokes, she let off and sat up again.

Sandra was watching raptly. "That was so hot," she said, transfixed.

"I'll go keep watch," Emily offered, standing up.

"No one will come here in this rain," Sandra said, stopping Emily with a hand on her arm.

"We did," Emily pointed out.

"Just stay."

Emily sat again and watched as Sandra approached Richard.

"Sit sideways," she said.

Richard swung a leg over the ledge and into the water basin, and in the process knocked Sandra's panties into the fountain.

"Oops," he said.

"Just leave them," Sandra said, as he started to reach for them.

She climbed onto Richard's lap, parting her dress to give their bodies access to each other. After some shuffling around, the mechanics weren't working. Sandra couldn't balance herself on the ground or in the basin, and almost fell into the fountain during one readjustment. Finally Sandra stood again, laughing a little.

"Shouldn't be this hard," she said.

Emily didn't mind. The delay was just making her more excited.

Richard sat facing out from the fountain again, and Sandra backed against him and lowered herself. She flipped her dress out of the way, and guided Richard into her. Emily watched as she sank herself fully onto him.

Richard let out another satisfied moan as Sandra began to move. From his position, her hips flared out towards him enticingly. He traced two fingers down her spine, pushing her body away from his. Bent at the waist, she could take him even a little deeper.

Richard started thrusting off the ledge. Their bodies impacted with a smack as they came together.

The rain grew even stronger, in parallel with their passion. Emily was having trouble seeing, as the rainwater dripped down her forehead and into her eyelashes faster than she could bat it away.

Richard leaned back and really pounded her as hard as he could. His butt bounced off the ledge as he rose to meet Sandra.

Sandra soon got noisy as she reached a plateau of pleasure. Her movements grew erratic, and a few seconds later there was a large splash as they fell into the fountain. Evidently, in the heat of the moment, Richard's hands had slipped of the edge of the ledge. In desperation, he had grabbed at Sandra. Unfortunately for them, she was just pushing back to meet him, and her momentum carried them both into the fountain. in a rather ungraceful back flip.

For a moment, Emily watched her two friends flail in the red foot-deep water. Then they found the surface and came up sputtering.

"Damn, are you all right?" Emily asked.

Sandra started laughing uncontrollably. It was infectious, and soon the three of them were mixing tears of humor with the still copious rain on their faces.

Sandra reached out to Emily, and she jumped into the fountain to join them. The three of them sat in the water, laughing and reliving the climactic fall.

Just when things were getting calm, Sandra pointed to Richard. Sandra's panties were sitting on his shoulder, unseen until then since the black matched that of his shirt.

Another round of laughing ensued, and her underpants were thrown around a few times until Richard hung it on a piece of filigree on the stone fountain. The panties dripped off rainwater like a little black flag.

"Let's go back to the room," Sandra said suddenly.

"You mean you don't want finish up right here?" Emily teased.

"Nah, I need to shower. This water is probably not the best to be in."

The three of them climbed out of the fountain. Richard handed Sandra her underwear.

"Nah, leave it there."

"Really?"

"Yeah, why not? I'm not going to put them on after they were in there," she said, pointing to the basin.

Richard grinned and replaced the panties on the fountain. "It's a sign: We Were Here!"

"Great, now there's going to be a bunch of stalkers here waiting for us to come back, once they see that," Emily said.

Once free of the water, they straightened their clothes. A coin clinked to the stone ground that surrounded the fountain. Richard felt around for it and picked it up. It was a nickel.

He tossed it into the fountain, wishing that whoever had made their wish with that coin would have their wish come true.

-------

"We look a wreck," Sandra said, as they opened the door to the dorm building. Luckily, her ID card still worked in the card reader.

"My wallet is toast," Richard said, fingering the soggy folds of the leather.

"Good thing you don't have any money in there," Emily teased.

Richard made a face at her.

They went by the common room, where a large number of people were watching a movie. Everyone looked up as the trio passed.

As they went up the stairs, Sandra started laughing.

"I can't believe I just walked by the common room looking like this!"

"Why?"

"I'm practically nude!" she exclaimed, just as Jer and Jenna came into the stairwell.

"I'll say," Jer said appraisingly.

Jenna backhanded his arm. "Jer!"

"What happened to you three?" he asked.

"Um, it's raining, if you haven't noticed," Richard said.

Sandra hurried by Jer and Jenna. "I'll meet you in the room, all right?"

Richard and Emily nodded as Sandra slipped out of the stairwell and into the hallway.

"Ever heard of umbrellas?" Jer asked.

"They don't exactly sell them at the restaurants around here," Emily said. She made no effort to cover her chest, which was partially visible through her shirt. And her nipples are still hard,  Richard noticed.

"True," Jer agreed. "Anyway, Richard, we were just looking for you. There's a message from your dad. Not sure what he said, since most of it was Russian, or whatever, but at the end he said 'Call me as soon as you can.'"

"It's Italian, man!"

"I know, I'm just fucking with you. See you later."

Richard and Emily went to the room. Sandra was just heading to the bathroom with a towel.

"I'll be right out," she said.

"I think I'll shower too," Richard said.

Emily shrugged. "All right, that seems to be the thing to do."

"Twenty minutes?" Richard asked.

"Just come when you're done."

-------

The message from his dad didn't sound particularly urgent, but he still called home.

"Hey, Papa."

"Riccardo! Good to hear from you."

"What's up?"

"Everything is good. How are things there? You haven't called in a few days."

"I'm not going to call every day," Richard said patiently. "You said to call you back?"

"We were just wondering how practicing was going, and if you are ready for class tomorrow."

"Yeah."

There was a pause.

"Are you in a hurry?" Vittorio asked.

"Sort of. I'm meeting some friends."

"Oh. Good. Don't stay up too late. When is your next lesson?"

"Wednesday."

"How is practice?"

"Good. Hey, let me call you tomorrow, after class. Then I'll have more to tell, all right?"

"Okay, Riccardo. Don't forget."

"I won't."

"We love you."

"Love you too."

Richard hurried to the shower. The sooner he cleaned up, the sooner he could return to the girls' room.

-------

He took a deep breath and knocked. Emily opened the door, wearing a towel.

The room was dim, again lit by just the blue Christmas lights. Music played faintly in the corner. At first, Richard couldn't see anything when Emily closed the door, but as his eyes adjusted, he saw Sandra lying on her bed. She was completely nude. Richard turned to Emily, and she had discarded the towel.

"What do you think?" Emily asked.

"Beautiful," Richard said before thinking.

"I wasn't talking to you, silly."

"I think he's been good enough," Sandra said, answering Emily.

"You are overdressed," Emily said.

Richard took off his clothes and tossed them aside.

"Time for a massage," Emily said gently. "Lie down."

Richard lay on his front on Emily's bed, and the girls climbed in next to him.

"Does your back still hurt?" Sandra asked, as she rubbed it gently.

"It's better..."

"Oh, then I guess we can stop," Emily said.

" ... but still in pain. Lots of pain, actually."

Emily chuckled. "Guys."

They treated Richard to an exquisite massage. They took their time, slowly working on his back and butt. They explored his skin, and his muscles, and his frame, and his pulse. Four hands seemed like eight at times.

"Turn around," Emily whispered.

Richard did, allowing his semi-erect penis to spring fully to life.

At the start of the massage, he had jokingly challenged himself to stay soft for the massage. That proved to be impossible. This was not an ordinary massage. Their touches were more sensual than anything else.

Richard closed his eyes as they rubbed his chest. The feelings were heavenly. And why shouldn't they be? This is paradise! he thought.

Inevitably, one of the girls began to stroke him. He didn't open his eyes to look, but he thought it was Sandra.

He gasped as one of them took him into his mouth. Again, he thought it was Sandra. For a time he just let himself enjoy the sensations.

"I've never done that."

Richard opened his eyes in surprise at Sandra's voice. It was Emily after all. And Sandra has never given a blowjob?

Emily worked a little longer, and then pulled off with a pop. "It's no big deal," she said.

"Um, yeah it is," Richard said.

Emily looked at him levelly. "I mean it's no big deal that she hasn't given one, Richard."

"Oh, right, sorry. I meant that it really feels good. In that way, it is a big deal."

"Billy never asked, so I never did it," Sandra explained.

"Billy?" Emily asked.

"My high school boyfriend," Sandra explained. She waved Billy away with her hand. "Can I try?"

"No," Richard joked.

Emily moved aside. Luckily for Richard, Sandra ignored him and gave it a try. She seemed unsure of what to do, and pulled off.

"Use your tongue," Emily said. She watched attentively as Sandra explored the tip with her tongue.

She moved more of him into her mouth.

"Move back and forth. Just like having sex," Emily urged.

Sandra did so, slowly working her lips around him. Everything was wet and warm now.

"Move your hand, too," Emily said.

He had been close to coming at the fountain when events turned unfortunate. Now Sandra's mouth on him brought him back to that brink again. And with the length of time he had been aroused this evening, he felt like he was going to burst.

"I hate to spoil the lesson, but if you keep doing that..." he said, voice tight.

Sandra redoubled her efforts at that.

Richard gasped. "Um ... here it comes."

Sandra continued to bob. Richard warned once more with a few groans, and then let loose. After the first shot, Sandra pulled off and coughed. She never stopped stroking him as she wiped at her mouth.

"Whoa, that was way more than I expected! Sorry!"

Richard tightened on the bed as long jets shot out onto his stomach.

"Whoa is right! Didn't you come at the fountain?" Emily asked.

"No," Richard managed between breaths.

"Ah," Emily said knowingly. She grabbed some tissues and they wiped Richard off. After getting him clean, Sandra and Emily laid down to either side of Richard.

"This bed isn't any bigger than mine. How come I'm always on the outside?" Sandra asked.

"Bad karma," Emily said.

Richard finally felt grounded again. "That was a nice massage, thanks."

"You're welcome."

"That was a lot," Sandra said.

"The fountain got me excited," Richard said.

"Obviously. I can't believe I actually did that! Someone could have seen us!" Sandra exclaimed, and started giggling.

"It was pretty wild," Richard agreed.

"And a smash ending, too," Emily added.

"I've never done anything like that," Sandra said. "Not even close. But it was really exciting," she added quietly after a pause.

The three of them lay there for a while, lost in their own thoughts. The rain outside gave a steady peppering of sound that the music in the corner intermingled with.

"This music is making me sleepy," Emily said. She crawled over Richard and Sandra, and went to look for something more active in her CD collection.

Richard got up as well. He was ready to go again, and he knew Emily had to be ready. He didn't want to neglect her.

For a moment, he watched Emily slightly bent over the desk, looking at CDs. Her bottom was very enticing. She turned and caught him looking, and wiggled her hips slightly.

Sandra watched Richard move behind Emily. He wrapped his arms around her chest and pulled her away from her task, turning her head for a hard kiss. His hips pressed against her butt, and she arched her back to push back against him.

"You're not letting me change the music," she said distractedly.

Richard let go of the kiss and pushed her body to the desk. Emily complied, pushing things aside on the desktop. Some CDs clattered to the floor.

Richard looked down and saw that Emily was on her toes. He almost let out a small chuckle at the coincidental reenactment of his earlier vision of Jer and Jenna.

Emily was very aroused and wet, and took him easily. A surprised moan of pleasure escaped her lips as he pushed himself against her butt. He took his time, caressing her back while he remained motionless inside of her.

Emily grabbed hold of the edges of the desk as Richard began to pump his hips. The way she was pressed against the desk made her body stay firm to his movements, and it felt different to Richard from the fluid romp at the fountain with Sandra. He could feel the friction as he rubbed across her insides. By moving up and down himself, he could change his angle and feel her differently.

"Faster," Emily murmured.

Richard began to thrust with vigor now, caught up in the carnality of the act.

The night before everything was so slow and sensual. He felt connected to the girls' very thoughts. Tonight the connection was more between their bodies. It was satisfying in a different way.

Sandra was watching Richard as he drove into Emily a little harder each time. Emily was still quiet, but clearly in ecstasy; her eyes were squeezed shut, and her fingers were white from gripping the desk. Her breath came out in a little burst whenever Richard bottomed out in her.

Sandra stood and moved behind Richard, staring intently at his back. She ran a finger down his spine, and then caressed his shoulders. Moving to his side, she stroked his chest.

If someone had told her a few weeks ago that she would be watching this, she would have first dismissed it as impossible. Then she would have thought it very weird.

And yet, here she was. The sight was undeniably arousing. Thoughts flooded through her head. How many times can Richard come? What would he taste like right now? What is Emily feeling?

Sandra ran her hand down Richard's front. He let out a slight murmur, and looked into Sandra's eyes. Her hand passed his bellybutton and she began to feel Emily bumping against the back of her hand. Lower still she wandered and Richard slowed a little. He pulled out some as Sandra gripped him. She stroked him a little, and both of them let out moans.

Sandra slid the tip back and forth along her wet opening.

"Richard, you're killing me," Emily gasped, eyes still squeezed shut.

Richard and Sandra smiled at each other. Emily didn't know Sandra was involved.

Evidently it felt good to Richard, because he suddenly grabbed Sandra's head and pulled her in for a passionate kiss.

For a moment, Richard lost track of where he was. He was stimulated completely, and he just let the pleasure consume his thoughts.

Emily pushed back and against him now, adjusting her legs to get back from the desk some more. Sandra slipped her hand off of Richard and he disappeared into Emily again.

In a final rush of exertion, Richard pounded Emily until he was ready to finish. Sandra continued to kiss him, running her tongue in and out of his mouth as he climaxed. He was surprised at the power of his orgasm, his second in so little time.

Emily was a mess on the table, rigidly shaking and moaning softly now. Sandra had her hands all over his body, and her tongue was aggressive. Richard continued to thrust through the hypersensitive feelings he felt after coming, trying to will his body not to stop.

Emily finally went limp on the desk, her hands trembling as they released the wood. Richard slowed his movements, and then pulled out of her. He was dizzy. Sandra was watching him with a smile.

"That was amazing," she said.

"Yeah. I'm all lightheaded."

"Lie down," she said gently.

Richard lay on the rug and tried to regain his breath.

"Are you all right?" Sandra asked Emily.

"Yeah. My insides are vibrating. It's like he's still in there," Emily said.

"Come relax," Sandra said.

The three of them sprawled on the rug.

"That was really good," Emily finally said.

"Yeah," Richard agreed.

"I never changed the music, though."

"Sorry."

Sandra rolled over and threw a leg over Richard. She drew it slowly up around him.

"That made me very excited," she said softly. She reached a hand down to feel him. "How many times can you do it?"

"I don't know. Probably again. But I need some time."

"Take all the time you need."

With that, Sandra rolled onto Richard, and began rubbing her body against him. Richard knew that it wouldn't be long before she would get a response.

Emily laughed. "Sandra, you're going to kill him!" she exclaimed.

I could think of worse ways to go, Richard thought with a grin.



-------

Act II

-------

Chapter 9: Gigue



Dr. Eugene Dobra was everything rumor made him out to be.

He walked in at exactly one o'clock. Richard and Sandra had just found two seats in the back corner together, hardly having greeted each other when he asked for silence.

"Take out some staff paper," he said.

He sat at the piano in the front of the room as people shuffled through their bags for the paper. Richard borrowed a sheet from Sandra.

When the rustling and whispering had settled down, Dr. Dobra nodded.

"Please write down this melody in treble clef. The starting note is middle C, and the key is F. The meter is 3/4. I will play it three times."

Dr. Dobra played a short melody on the piano and then stopped. Richard and Sandra looked at each other in surprise, and most of the other people did the same. Richard wrote down the middle C, and then what he thought the next note was. I hope he's not going to collect this.

After thirty seconds or so, Dr. Dobra played the melody again. He surveyed the class, waiting again for people to write some more of the melody.

Richard tried to sing the melody in his head, but he was still surprised at the way class had begun. He hadn't really concentrated on the melody enough to be able to sing it, let alone write it down.

The last play through was more helpful, but still Richard only was able to write down six notes in total, a few of which he wasn't sure were correct.

Dr. Dobra let everyone write a few moments more as he looked over his roster. His moustache twitched. "Mr. Mark Morgan," he called out. He sacnned the class over his rectangular glasses.

A guy in the front row raised his hand somewhat tentatively. "That's me."

"Did you write down the melody?"

"Um, a few notes."

"Please show us what you have. On the board." Dr. Dobra held out a piece of chalk.

Mark went to the board, and copied a few notes from his paper onto the staff. He turned expectantly to Dr. Dobra, who examined it for a moment.

"There seem to be some problems with what you have written." Dr. Dobra sat at the piano, and played five notes. They were in a completely different register, and seemingly nothing to do with the five notes Mark had written.

"First, you need a clef, or it makes no sense," Dr. Dobra said. "Second, where is the key signature? Third, you neglected to notate anything rhythmically. What is your instrument?"

"Viola."

"If you were given music that looked like this, would you be able to play it?"

Mark looked at the five notes he had written. "No," he agreed.

Richard noticed several people adding things to their papers. Richard had at least gotten those things right.

"No, indeed." Dr. Dobra turned to the class. "So we need to be precise. Music notation is about precision. You can sit now, thank you," he said, gesturing to Mark.

Mark hurried back to his chair.

"Does anyone feel they can write down the melody on the board?" Dr. Dobra asked.

No one moved. Richard kept his eyes fast on the rear legs of the chair in front of him.

"I didn't expect anyone to be able to," Dr. Dobra said at last, "although occasionally someone surprises me. Names on your papers and pass them forward, please."

There were some muffled voices of surprise. Someone called out, "Is this going to be graded?"

Dr. Dobra peered at the girl for a long moment, over his glasses. "Everything is graded."

The class groaned.

"However," he said, silencing the whispers with a raised hand, "in this case, I am looking for improvement. I will keep these until later in the year, and then we will try the same melody again. Those of you who did poorly today should not worry, yet. You will have the most room to show progress."

A guy walked into the classroom, trying to take a seat quietly.

"Your name?" Dr. Dobra called out.

"Ethan Deerfield."

"You already missed a quiz," Dr. Dobra said. "Don't worry. You have the most room to show progress," Dr. Dobra said, making a marking in his book. A few people in the class tittered.

"Don't be late, folks. If you are late, don't bother to come at all. Are there any questions before we begin?"

No one made a sound.

"Please turn to page eight of your sight-singing book." He held the text up. "If you do not have the book, look on with your neighbor. After today, do not come to class unless you have this book with you. Otherwise you will be wasting your time, and my time."

Richard scooted over to look on with Sandra while Dr. Dobra scanned his roster again.

"Let's see, Ms. Sandra D'Arcy?"

Sandra jumped slightly, and then raised her hand.

"Please sing example three for us, using the syllable 'la'. Here is the first note." Dr. Dobra played a note on the piano.

Sandra hummed the note quietly to herself for a second, and looked at the melody. Then she began to sing.

When she finished, Richard realized he had been holding his breath in nervousness for his friend.

Dr. Dobra nodded. "Well done. Are you a voice major?"

"Yes."

Dr. Dobra nodded again. "Lovely. However, in this course the quality of your voice does not matter."

Richard tightened a little more than he already was. Sandra remained expressionless.

"Not all of us are blessed like Ms. D'Arcy here," he continued. "However, she sang with correct pitch, correct rhythm, and correct expression. And that is what will matter in this class. Please notice that she observed the dynamics as marked."

Dr. Dobra scanned his roster again. "Mr. Callahan, example four, please?"

Richard took a deep breath. Vacation is over, he thought, as he listened to Mr. Callahan struggle through the passage.

-------

"I have to sprint to English. Whoever made my schedule is an idiot," Richard said, as they exited Dr. Dobra's class.

"Where is it?" Sandra asked.

"Almost to the cafeteria."

"You better run then," she urged.

"Yeah. I'll see you for dinner. I'll come by the room after I practice, around six or so," he said.

"Okay. Bye!"

Sandra watched Richard hurry off, and then she headed back to the dorm. She was done with her first day of classes.

Emily was in the room practicing. Sandra went in quietly, intending to grab her books and head for a practice room, but Emily put her horn down.

"How was Doberman?" she asked.

"Crazy. Not five minutes into class he already collected the first quiz."

Emily looked at Sandra wide-eyed. "Damn!"

"Yeah. There's no messing around in there. Pretty much everyone got called on to do something."

"You should switch to my ear training class. Messerson is really laid back. He didn't even start until a quarter after."

"I wish I could switch, but I have my lesson at that time. It actually wasn't that bad. At the end of class Dobra said he was just giving us a preview of what we will be doing. I guess we start for real on Wednesday."

"Mm. Where's Richard?"

"English."

"Ah, yes, I forgot."

"Hey, I'll let you get back to practicing," Sandra said, shouldering her bag.

"No, that's all right, I need a break."

"Okay," Sandra said, dropping her bag to the bed again.

"Piano class looks like it will be easy," Emily said.

"Yeah. I've played most of that stuff already. I'm going to try and pass out of it."

"And leave me alone?"

"You can sit with Jimmy, or whatever that guy's name was that kept showing off," Sandra said.

Emily sniggered. "Jimmy Lemieux? Right. He's such a prick. The first day he was here, I saw him in the building and he just walked by like he barely knew me. It was right when I met Richard."

"You know him then?"

"Oh yeah, we played in a brass quintet in DC. He had a crush on me for a while, too. Kept asking me out."

"Oh."

"I never went for it, though. He thinks he's god's gift to the trumpet."

"Is he not very good?"

"No, he is. He's one of the best trumpet players I've ever heard. But he doesn't have to act like it!"

Sandra laughed. "He must think he's god's gift to the piano, too."

"Yeah, you'd think, by the way he was carrying on. Hey Jimmy, why don't you teach the fucking class!" Emily exclaimed.

"Richard could show him something about playing the piano."

"Mm hmm. Is he going to eat with us?" Emily asked.

"Yeah."

"Cool."

There was some silence.

"Sorry I've been hogging Richard," Sandra said suddenly.

"Hogging?"

"Well, at the fountain I just kind of, you know ... and then we did it again after you last night," Sandra said. The words came out in a nervous rush.

"It's not a contest," Emily said dismissively.

"I know. I just wanted to see if things were still okay. I've been going first with him, too."

"I don't mind. I like watching. It makes me really excited for when we do it," Emily admitted with a laugh.

"Really? You like watching too?"

"Well, yeah!"

"I didn't know if that was weird or something."

"I don't know either, but I like it. Who cares if it's weird?"

"Hmm. Do you..." Sandra hesitated.

"What?"

"Have you felt jealous? You, know, watching me and him?"

"No. Sometimes I think I should, but I don't. I mean, Richard is a great guy. He's really cool. Why would I want to share him? But for some reason it feels right."

"I've thought the same thing," Sandra admitted quietly.

"I guess I've had a lot of bad relationships where it was just me and another guy. Maybe this will be better."

Sandra was quiet.

"The last guy I went out with in high school was really romantic," Emily said.

"That's cool."

"About as romantic as a telephone pole."

"Oh!"

"Yeah, Ryan wanted to be a writer. I don't think that will work out."

"Why?"

"Ever heard that saying 'Not the brightest light on the tree?'"

"Yeah?"

"He wasn't even on the tree."

Sandra laughed. "So why did you even go out with him?"

"The other guys were even worse."

Sandra sighed. "You don't like guys that much, do you?"

"I got really tired of them in high school," Emily admitted. "Maybe it was just bad luck, or maybe I just draw the worst ones to me."

"What was the worst guy you've gone out with?"

"Worst?" Emily considered for a moment. "I'd have to say Gary. His parents were insane, and his sister hated me for some reason I couldn't figure out. He didn't want people to know we were going out. He had a lot of baggage."

"Everyone has baggage, though," Sandra said.

"No, this guy had baggage for a two year trip around the world. I found out after a few months he had a couple other girlfriends in other towns while I was going out with him. Bastard."

"Wow, that is bad."

"Yeah. What about you?"

Sandra shrugged. "I've only been out with two guys, and both were decent. Maybe a little boring, but not bad."

"Only two guys ... I wouldn't have guessed."

"Yeah, well, so it is."

"Did you go out with them at the same time?"

"What? No!" Sandra said, shock on her face. "I'd never do something like..." Her voice trailed off as Emily raised a brow at her and smiled.

" ... like that," she finished, blushing a little. "This is different. We know about each other."

"I was just messing with you," Emily said.

There was a knock on the door.

"Maybe Richard didn't go to class after all," Sandra said, as she answered the door.

Jer was standing in the hallway.

"Hey, what's up?" he said.

"Nothing much," Sandra answered.

"Is Richard here?"

"No, he's in class."

"Cool, cool. Have you eaten lunch yet?" Jer asked.

"Um, yeah?" Sandra frowned. "It's two fifteen."

"All right, just seeing if you wanted to go to the cafeteria or something."

"No, I'm good."

"All right." Jer nodded.

"What did you need Richard for?" Sandra asked.

"Richard?" Jer said, confused for a second. "Oh, um, he has a message. From his dad or something."

"I'll tell him when I see him."

"Okay."

"Bye."

Sandra closed the door.

"That guy gives me the creeps!" she said softly to Emily.

"Yeah, he's a little weird."

"He's always looking at me strangely."

"I think he likes you."

"Eew, don't say that!"

Emily laughed. "Jer and Sandra sitting in a tree..." she sang in a childish voice.

"Em, quit it!"

"Sorry." Emily sniggered.

Sandra rolled her eyes and shouldered her pack. "I do need to practice. Bye..."

Emily was still laughing when Sandra left.

-------

"Well, one day gone, who knows how many hundreds to go," Richard said. The trio were just entering the dorm building.

If the lines had been long at the cafeteria the first day, they were really annoying today. It had taken a hour to get their food.

"We need to start eating at off hours, I think," Emily said.

"Yeah, really," Richard agreed.

"Or just eat somewhere else," Sandra said, hope in her voice.

"Right. By the way," Richard said, "I got my schedule for work study. Looks like I'm on front desk duty Monday and Wednesday nights."

"That sucks. When do you start?"

"In fifteen minutes," Richard said with a grimace. "Eight to eleven."

"That's too bad. I thought we were hanging out tonight," Sandra lamented.

Emily opened the door to their room, and flopped on her bed.

"What are you going to do, then?" Richard asked.

"Have fun," Emily said.

"Without me?"

"You'll be missed, but only slightly."

"Whatever." Richard smiled. I bet they come bother me at the front desk by eight thirty,  he thought.

"Oh, I forgot," Sandra suddenly said. "Jer came by and said there was a message for you. From your dad, or so he thought."

Richard grunted.

"Does he call you every day?" Sandra asked.

"So far, pretty much. It's a bit annoying ... I guess I better go. Don't want to be late for the first day of work, you know. I bet people are just storming the front desk with questions and shit."

"We'll be here if you, uh, need anything," Sandra said with a grin. She was also lounging on her bed.

I really wish I didn't have to work,  he thought.

Richard smiled and let himself out. When he got to his room, Jer was lying on his bed, sound asleep and in his boxers. His covers were completely messed up. Why does he need so many sheets and covers in the summer?

Richard frowned, since the answering machine light was steady. Maybe Jer took the message. He grinned at the image of Jer trying to understand his dad. I should probably call him. He checked his watch; he had about ten minutes.

Richard took off his shirt and looked for a new one in the closet.

"Oh, hey Richard," he heard a female voice speak quietly behind him. Richard whirled around, and saw Jenna looking at him from Jer's bed. Somehow he had missed seeing her in the mess of the covers.

"Sorry, I guess I fell asleep," she said. Her bare shoulders and the clothes on the floor made Richard feel a little red.

"Um, I was just leaving," he said quickly, turning back to get a shirt. "I have to work the front desk."

"Oh, all right."

Richard put on his shirt and left the room without looking at Jer's bed. I guess I have a new roommate,  he thought, as he made the short walk to the conservatory. He wasn't quite sure what he thought of that.

-------

Twenty-eight minutes after Richard had settled into the front desk chair, he grinned. On the little video monitor which showed him the back entrance to the building, he saw Emily and Sandra approaching. Before they had a chance to ring the bell, he buzzed them in. He could see them look at each other and start laughing as they pulled the door open.

Thirty seconds later they appeared in the lobby, giggling.

"Is that the first time you let someone in?" Emily asked.

"Nah," Richard said. "Three others already."

"Aw. I wanted to be your first!"

Richard shook his head.

"I thought you'd have to be in uniform or something," Emily said.

"You sound disappointed that I'm not."

"Well..."

"What else do you do?" Sandra asked.

"Just buzz people in."

"Tough job."

"Yeah. It's pretty easy. I can probably get a lot of homework done."

"Why don't they have card access, like for the dorm?" Sandra asked.

"I guess they are going to put it in soon."

"Then you'll be out of a job," Emily said.

"Nah, I still need to answer the phone."

"Any calls yet?" Emily asked.

"No."

"I have to pee," Sandra announced.

"Thanks for sharing," Emily said.

Sandra went off, jingling her keys.

"So what if you have to pee?" Emily asked.

"Then I go pee," Richard said with a shrug.

"What if someone needs to get in while you're on the throne?"

"Then they wait a moment. It's no big deal. It's not like I'm launching missiles with this button here."

Bzzt. Richard eyed the monitor and then let the person in.

"How do you know you're not letting in a thief?" Emily asked.

"I don't, really. Mort said basically unless they look really suspicious, I should let them in."

"Mort?"

"The supervisor."

"So we didn't look suspicious?" Emily said. Suspiciously so.

Just as Richard started wondering what she meant, the phone rang. Richard and Emily looked at each other for a second, and then Richard answered.

"Wexford Conservatory, this is Richard. May I help you?"

"Hi."

"Hello?" Richard said.

There was a pause.

"Can I help you?" he asked again.

"It's me, silly!" Sandra said.

"Sandra?"

Emily gave Richard a what-the-fuck look.

"I thought you'd be excited to get a call!" Sandra said.

Richard laughed. "I thought you went to pee."

"No, I went to call you."

"That's retarded! I was just talking to you here. Why would you call me?"

"Why not? All right, bye!" she said, giggling before the line went dead.

Emily shook her head and laughed.

Richard just shrugged. "Don't ask me. Wait ... Did she have some wine before you came over?"

"Maybe," Emily said evasively.

"You are bad!"

Sandra bounced back into the lobby.

"Where did you call from?"

"The voice studio. I have keys, see," she said, wiggling them at Richard. "It's empty right now," she added, winking at them both.

Again the phone interrupted his thoughts. He answered it, still distracted by Sandra's grin.

"Hello? Um, this the, uh, Wexford Conservatory, and can I help you? I'm Richard." He bumbled his way through the greeting, and Sandra and Emily started laughing into their hands. Richard put his finger to his lips and gave them a stern look, but it didn't help.

"Hey, Riccardo!" his dad said.

How the hell... ?

"Papa, what are you doing? I'm at work. I can't take calls. How did you know I was here?" Richard asked.

"It's your dad?" Emily whispered.

Richard nodded with a grimace.

"You didn't call today, and Chair said you were working at the school," Vittorio explained.

Richard suppressed a laugh. "It was a really full day. I couldn't call. I'll call you tomorrow, I promise."

"Okay, don't forget! Your Mama wants to hear about how things are going."

"All right, I have to go. Someone is here," Richard said, eyeing the girls.

"Very well. Ciao, Riccardo."

"Ciao."

The girls burst out laughing as soon as Richard hung up.

"What?"

"Sorry," they said, choking off the giggles in their mouths, but not in their eyes.

"He's a little extreme sometimes about calling me, I guess."

"It's pretty funny," Sandra said.

"What time are you done?" Emily asked.

"Eleven."

"Well, hurry up; we'll be in the room hanging out."

"Waiting for you," Sandra added.

"How exactly am I supposed to hurry up?" Richard asked as they started walking away.

Emily shrugged. "See you later! Have fun!"

The girls went off down the hallway with a little wave. Conspiratorial giggles echoed down the hall until they faded away. When they got to the rear exit, Richard watched as they waved to the camera. Emily looked around, and then pulled her shirt down, showing him her cleavage.

Richard leaned in to the little monitor, cursing its poor resolution and miniscule size.

"I saw that!" he yelled down the hallway.

The girls waved once more and then pushed the button to release the door. A moment later they had disappeared into the night. The monitor was empty again.

Richard looked at his watch and sighed.

Only two hours, twelve minutes and forty-three seconds to go.



-------

Chapter 10: Courante



Only one hour, forty-three minutes and thirteen seconds to go.

This job sucks!

Richard took his watch off and flipped it face down onto the desk. Otherwise I'll just be staring at the fucking thing all night.

Strains of music drifted into the lobby from the practice rooms on the lower floor. Trumpet lines, repeating endlessly, were punctuated by bursts of percussion.

The bright fluorescent lights overhead hummed slightly. He wished he could dim them; they were making his eyes hurt.

Richard flipped through his sight singing book, trying to find something to prepare for the next class with Dr. Dobra. There were endless examples that the Doberman could pick from. I suppose that's the point. If we practiced them, it wouldn't be 'sight' singing.

He wished he had brought something better to do. It was either read The Elements of Style for his English class, or start sight singing in the lobby. Neither prospect was very appealing to him. He really wanted to be back in the dorm.

Bzzt. At last, something to do! Richard checked the monitor, and saw a girl with a violin case at the back door. Richard pressed the button to let her in, and watched her enter. Then the screen was still again. He hoped that she would walk down to his end of the hall, but it was unlikely. Usually people took the stairs by the back door to reach the practice rooms. Since Sandra and Emily had left, human contact had been limited to a few people using the front door, and one phone call. It was a wrong number.

Richard absently picked up his watch, and groaned when he looked at it. He threw it down onto the desk in disgust.

Only one hour, forty minutes and fifty-five seconds to go.

-------

Richard had his head down on the desktop when someone spoke.

"Hello," came the voice.

Richard sat up, disoriented. Had he fallen asleep? He eyed his overturned watch greedily. Perhaps his shift was almost over. It had to be. He hadn't looked at the watch in a long time. Ten minutes, at least... 

A man of perhaps forty stood in front of the desk, watching Richard with a grin. "Long night at the front desk, huh?"

"Um, yeah, I guess," Richard answered. His hand crept towards the watch.

"Do you have keys to the upstairs maintenance room?" the man asked.

"Um, I don't know," Richard said. Had Mort said anything about keys? And what time is it?

"Well, you do. They're in the drawer, there," he said, pointing.

Richard pulled open the drawer. A ring of a dozen keys hung from a hook. "I don't know if I'm allowed to give these to you," Richard said.

"Are you new here?" the man said, grinning knowingly.

"Yeah."

"I'm Dave Stanley," he said, extending his hand. "Audio recording."

"Richard." They shook hands.

"Well, if you don't feel comfortable passing over the keys, then you should give Mort a ring. Is he on call tonight?"

"Yeah, he is. What do you need the keys for?" Richard asked neutrally.

"We're doing a recording in the hall tonight, and I need the AC turned off. Maintenance was supposed to do it, but they haven't. I can't find Wilson or Steve, and we need to get going."

"What are you recording?"

"Some solo piano."

"That's what I play," Richard said.

"Do you know Maria Patrick, then?"

The name was familiar, but Richard couldn't place it. "Is she one of the teachers here?"

Dave nodded. "She's recording some solo works for a CD."

"Cool. Here," Richard said, offering the keys to Dave. Richard didn't think Dave was all that suspicious.

"Thanks. I'll bring them back in a moment," he said, smiling.

Richard nodded. As Dave went upstairs, Richard checked his watch.

Only six minutes and two seconds to go!

Dave returned in a few minutes and handed Richard the keys.

"Thanks again, you saved me some trouble," he said. "When are you done here?"

"Um, in a few minutes, hopefully," Richard said.

"Hey, well if you feel like it, come watch a little of the recording. We're just getting our sound checks now."

"I'd love to, but I don't want to be in the way," Richard said.

"You won't. We're in the control room upstairs, room 304N," Dave said. "Just knock and I'll let you in."

"All right," Richard said.

"See you later," Dave said.

After Dave left, Richard was antsy. One the one hand, it would be cool to see the recording. But the girls ... They were waiting.

Mort knocked on the front door, interrupting Richard's thoughts. Richard buzzed him in.

"How did it go?" Mort asked.

"Um, fine. Nothing major happened."

"Good. All right, you're free to go."

Richard shouldered his pack, and stood by the stairs for a moment. Finally he turned and went up. Just for a few minutes,  he thought.

He knocked quietly on the control room door. A moment later, Dave opened it for him.

"Richard, come in. Leave your bag on the desk there, if you want."

Richard followed Dave into the control room after dropping his bag.

The room was dimly lit, and alive with sound. Coming from two rather large speakers was the feed from the concert hall. Every little noise from the hall could be heard, echoing reverberantly. A window looked out onto the stage from the back of the concert hall. A woman seated at the piano was talking with a man who stood down in the first row of seats. Richard felt an odd disconnect at seeing their bodies over a hundred feet away, and yet hearing their voices like they were right beside him.

"That's Maria, of course, and Jarrett, the producer for the CD," Dave said. "Ever been in a recording control room before?"

Richard shook his head as he looked at the equipment. "No. Pretty cool," he said.

Jarrett and Maria had finished their discussion, and Maria ran some warm up figures on the concert grand.

"Wow, that sounds really good!" Richard exclaimed.

Dave grinned.

The large speakers filled the room with piano notes, each one almost tactile. Dave sat himself at the mixing board and listened intently, occasionally looking at the tape machines on the rack to his right, during the louder moments.

"Good evening," someone said behind Richard. It was Jarrett. "You are?"

"This is Richard," Dave said. "He helped with the blowers, so I invited him to observe for a bit."

Jarrett nodded and extended his hand. "Jarrett."

"Nice to meet you."

"How does it sound?" Jarrett asked Dave.

"Pretty good. Take a listen. I need to make one more adjustment. Richard, come with me."

Richard followed Dave out of the control room, and they went down to the hall.

"Maria should know you are here, so she's not surprised."

"I actually have to get back to the dorm soon," Richard admitted, although the few minutes he had spent in the control room had been fascinating.

"What, homework on the first day?" Dave quipped.

"Nah, I need to, uh ... go to bed," he said. That was as close to the truth he would say. At least he hoped it was the truth.

Dave and Richard walked down the aisle silently as Maria played. Richard had not heard music in the Wexford concert hall yet. It was quite reverberant for its size.

Two microphones were on stands in front of the piano, and four other microphones were suspended from the high ceiling on long cables. Dave hopped up onto the stage, and Richard watched as he lowered the stand microphones an inch and pushed them slightly towards the piano. Richard wondered what the point of such a small change was, but he didn't dare ask.

Maria stopped playing, and stood to stretch.

"We can record a sound check now, and then you can come listen," Dave said to her.

"That sounds good," she said.

"Oh, and this is Richard. Is it all right if he observes for a little while?"

"No problem," Maria said, smiling at Richard.

On the way back up to the control room, Richard gave in to the question nagging in his head.

"So does a change like that make a big difference in the sound?" he asked.

Dave laughed. "A big difference? No. But a difference? Yes. It's pretty easy to make a good recording. Not as easy to make a great recording. A subtle recording."

Richard understood the principle, but still didn't believe moving the microphones two inches could make an audible difference.

Back in the control room, Jarrett had the score laid out on the desk facing the window that looked out over the hall. Dave sat in his chair, and talked to Maria via a microphone on the mixer during a break in her playing.

"Okay, we are good to go for the sound check, whenever you are ready."

"I'm ready," she said.

Dave started two tape machines, and then told her she could begin.

Richard didn't recognize the piece. It was modern, and rather atonal. Richard couldn't hear any difference in the sound due to the microphone change, but Dave seemed to be satisfied. Dave stood and offered his chair to Jarrett, who sat and listened intently for a few minutes. When he stood and nodded approvingly to Dave, Dave looked at Richard, gesturing to the chair.

Richard shrugged and sat. At first his attention was captivated by the numerous controls on the mixer, but then he turned his attention to the music. He closed his eyes, and it sounded like he had been teleported to the stage and was listening to the instrument from a few yards away.

Not wanting to overstay his welcome, he stood up and moved out of the way.

"What do you think?" Dave asked him.

"Sounds like I'm in the hall," Richard said.

Dave smiled and nodded. "Well, that's good, I suppose. How is the balance across the range?"

"Um..." Richard hadn't even listened for that. "I guess it's balanced."

"The bass may still be a little heavy," Dave mused.

"Let's see what Maria says," Jarrett chimed in. "She indicated that she would rather have the power down there, than not."

Maria finished the short movement, and Dave invited her to come up to the control room.

"Richard's a pianist," Dave said to Jarrett.

"Really? Wonderful!" Jarrett said. "Do you know this piece?" he asked.

"No," Richard admitted.

"Well, I would have been surprised if you did."

"What is it?" Richard asked.

"It's a piano sonata by Candace Kramer," Jarrett said.

"She's the composition teacher here," Dave added. "Maria is making the premiere recording."

"Cool."

"What do you think of the piece?" Jarrett asked.

"Um, I was paying attention more to the sound, sorry."

Jarrett nodded.

There was a knock, and Dave let Maria in. He offered her the hot seat, and she sat to listen to the replay of her sound check.

Richard paid more attention to the music this time, and found the piece interesting, if a bit abstract at times. One section was particularly beautiful, a feat which most modern atonal works rarely achieved, to Richard's ear at least.

Maria was pleased with the sound. When Dave suggested there was a bit too much bass, Maria disagreed, saying she could change her playing a little where it had sounded inappropriate.

Maria was ready to start. "It sounds great. That can be take one," she said.

"Ah, sadly it cannot," Dave said. He reached over and turned up the volume to the live sound from the hall, and Richard heard faint trumpets and snare drums. The sound from the practice rooms was bleeding into the hall.

"We still have to wait another twenty minutes until the building closes," Dave said. Richard looked at his watch, blinking in shock. Forty minutes have passed?

Maria chuckled. "Dave, you're just too good at what you do. You said sound check would take an hour at least."

Dave just shrugged.

"I guess I'll just have to play a little more," Maria said. She went back down to the hall, and Richard stood to go as well. Hopefully the girls wouldn't be mad at him for not coming to the room right away.

"We're here all week," Dave said as Richard shouldered his bag. "You're welcome to stop by and see how things are going."

"Thanks," Richard said. "See you later."

-------

When Richard stepped up to the girls' door, he thought he heard a male voice in the room. That's Jer! Then there was a burst of laughter from the girls. Sounds like they haven't missed me all that much.

Richard knocked, and he heard more giggling. When the door opened, it was dark in the room save for the blue lights.

"Finally! What took you so long?" Emily asked.

"There was a mad rush of people trying to get in the building at eleven," Richard said, looking around as he entered. Jer apparently was not in the room, unless he was in the closet.

"Whatever. We came looking for you about twenty minutes ago and Morty was working the desk."

"Morty?"

"He said you left at eleven," Sandra added, the obvious question hanging on her words. She was lying on her bed.

"I went up to watch a little of a recording they're doing in the hall," Richard explained.

"Oh, cool! How'd you manage that?" Emily asked.

Richard told them of Dave and the AC blowers, and Jarrett and Maria.

"Looks like we were dissed for another woman," Emily said to Sandra.

"Who? Maria?" Richard asked, frowning.

"Is she cute?"

Richard sniggered as he sat next to Emily on her bed. "You're silly. Hey, I thought I heard Jer in here when I knocked."

Emily laughed hard. "He was here. He went out the window."

"No, he didn't," Richard said.

"Actually Sandra does a good impersonation of him."

"Oh yeah?" Richard turned to Sandra, brows raised. After a moment of shyness, she gave her impression of Jer.

"Hey, you want to get some dinner?" she imitated.

It was quite realistic, Richard thought. "That's pretty good! But did he really..."

"Ask us out to dinner? Yeah, earlier when you were in class."

"That's weird. When I went back to the room, he and Jenna were sleeping on the bed. I think she was nude," he added in a lower voice.

"Ooh! Nude!" Emily said sarcastically. "Maybe they like each other!"

"Did you get to see anything good?" Sandra asked.

"You two are feisty tonight."

"It's late," Sandra said, looking at the clock.

"Yeah, don't you get up early?" Richard asked.

"Tomorrow's not as bad. English at nine."

"Well, I don't want to keep you from your beauty sleep, so I should go," Richard said.

"What are you talking about? You just got here," Sandra said.

"Well, I don't know if —"

Emily put a finger to his lips. "Less talking."

She kissed him. "More action."

In short order the three of them were naked, and the girls sat to each side of him. While Emily and he kissed, Sandra ran his hands over Richard's body. Tonight she wanted to watch first, so when Richard turned to kiss her, Sandra pushed him back towards Emily.

Richard sensed that the girls had been getting worked up waiting for him. Emily only kissed him a moment longer before pushing him back down onto the bed. I wonder what they talked about... 

Sandra watched as Emily threw a leg over Richard. Sandra realized she had slipped a hand to pleasure herself while she waited for them. If Emily's as excited as I am, this will be fast.

Emily's breasts bounced as she moved on top of Richard. Sandra smiled a little as she saw Richard throw his head back and close his eyes. Impulsively, Sandra leaned back and slipped her tongue into his mouth. He opened his eyes, pleasantly surprised.

Richard was pinned by pleasure to the mattress. His head bumped against the wall a little as Emily pushed down onto him, but he didn't care. His kiss with Sandra was sensuous and personal, and at the same time Emily connected with him in a more instinctual way. And he didn't have enough hands to caress everywhere he wanted to.

For a while he let his mind open up to all the sensations, and it seemed like nothing else existed except for the three of them.

Emily came first, obviously trying to keep her voice down. Her quiet moan got taut and high as she squeezed her body tightly. Richard was still fresh, and he kept his climax in check as Emily went over her peak.

Emily continued to buck on Richard, keeping her pleasure on high, and Richard knew she wanted him to finish. Her movements were becoming less fluid, but she was not slowing. Sandra pulled away from kissing Richard to watch.

Richard let go of his restraint, and his orgasm was helped by Sandra running a hand down his chest and tummy. As she snaked her fingers through his curly hairs and then around the very base of his shaft, Richard came. Emily smashed down onto Sandra's hand a few more times, before collapsing onto Richard.

Sandra slipped her hand out from between them. Emily had been right; it was exciting to watch first. She felt a twinge of deep arousal as she wondered if Richard was ready. He seems to be able to go twice in a row without any problem.

Sandra ran a hand over Emily's still heaving back. She was slightly damp with sweat.

Emily let out a giggle.

"What?' Sandra asked.

"Richard pulsed inside me."

"I want to feel!" Sandra said, feeling the twinge again.

"Impatience!" Emily said. She slid off of Richard, lying next to him.

Sandra took in Richard's form for a moment. He was still hard, and he pulsed slightly a few times. Wordlessly, she bent down and took him into her mouth, once, and then slipped off. Richard let out a strangled moan, and Emily looked at her amusedly.

Sandra climbed onto Richard, rubbing herself against him, occasionally catching him so that he rubbed along her sensitive area. The pressure sent a jolt of pleasure up her body.

Richard looked at her with soft eyes. He's probably wondering whether he wants to kiss me,  she thought.

Sandra teased Richard for a while, only letting him enter her slightly, before pulling out to rub him further. He grew more and more excited, trying to press his hips off the bed to penetrate her more. Sandra simply pulled away from his advances, smiling a little.

Eventually Richard groaned in frustration as Sandra again held herself away. She laughed.

"Quit teasing me," he said.

"It's teasing me as much as it is you," Sandra said. Emily laughed.

"So stop, then!" he exclaimed, trying again unsuccessfully to enter her.

"Make me," Sandra challenged.

Richard eyed her for a moment, and then suddenly Sandra was on her back on the bed. She gasped involuntarily as Richard buried himself in her. She squeezed her eyes shut, red stars of bliss flashing in her eyelids. The pleasure of teasing him was now multiplied a hundredfold. Her legs were closed together and pointed to the ceiling as he pounded her, using the leverage from the floor. She had never felt so filled, but then again she had never been in this position.

"Someone got what she asked for!" she vaguely heard Emily titter.

Sandra couldn't even think of anything besides the feelings tugging at her body. She couldn't respond to Richard's movements. She could only wait until she exploded. Or maybe she already had.

"That's really hot," Emily said from what seemed like a mile away.

Richard never slowed as Sandra's legs grew weak and fell to the bed. For what seemed like an hour Richard was relentless. Sandra held on to the sheets, her body vibrating with intense sensations of ecstasy.

She was only vaguely aware of his grunts, and then he slowed.

Sandra still felt him for a long time inside her, even after he had collapsed on the bed between her and Emily.

-------

"I'm going to be sore tomorrow," Sandra said. It was late. She wasn't sure if she had fallen asleep. "I can already feel it."

Emily murmured in agreement. She was curled up on the bed as well. Richard was out cold where he had fallen to the rug.

"Should we wake him?"

"Yeah," Emily said. "I could go for another round."

"Emily! I meant wake him so he can get to his bed."

"I know, I was just kidding."

Sandra stroked his chest gently. "It doesn't feel like we're boyfriend and girlfriend ... and girlfriend, you know?"

"Mm-hmm."

"But I feel closer to you and him than I ever did to Billy. And I've only known you a week."

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. I feel very comfortable right now."

"Me too. Richard is a special guy," Sandra said.

"Yeah, there's something about him that's very laid back, and yet very smart."

"And he's funny, too. It's fun to tease him, and watch his face. He bites his lower lip."

"Yeah! When he gets worked up. Like when you were teasing him earlier."

Sandra laughed. "Yeah. He finally did something about it."

"I'll say!"

Sandra sighed. "Do you think people know we are together?"

"I don't know. Jer must think so, but who knows." Emily added her caress to Richard's chest.

"I really like what we have," Sandra said. "I don't want people to make it weird for us."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Maybe we should keep things as friends in public."

"How do you think Richard feels about it?"

"He's in heaven," Richard said, eyes still closed.

Sandra and Emily looked at each other in surprise.

"You're awake?" Sandra said.

"No, just talking in my sleep," Richard murmured, his face still relaxed and expressionless.

Emily laughed, slapping his arm playfully. "All this time you were eavesdropping!"

"Hardly!" Richard said. A smile broke across his face as he opened his eyes.

The girls looked at him in mock anger, but they couldn't keep the stern looks from becoming chuckles.

"I'm really happy with what we have, too," Richard said. "I think you are great friends."

"What if people ask about us?" Sandra said.

There was some silence as they thought about this. Finally Emily spoke.

"We're just friends. Not open to any relationships."

"Especially with Jer," Sandra said.

"If he keeps bothering you, let me know, I'll talk to him," Richard said.

"So far it's been tolerable, but he's still a little weird. I wonder what Jenna thinks of his ... wandering eye."

"If she even knows," Richard said.

"No, she knows, and I think she tries to keep him in check," Emily said.

"What's happening tomorrow?" Richard asked as he sat up and stretched with a loud yawn.

"I can do lunch at twelve," Sandra said.

"Me too," Emily agreed.

"Cool. I need to get to sleep. For real, this time," he added.

"You're such a faker," Emily said.

"Yeah, we'll never talk when you are 'asleep' again."

Richard shrugged, and put on his clothes. The girls stood as well, and put on their night clothes.

Richard gave them each a hug and kiss, and then slipped out into the bright hallway.

-------

Back in his room, it took a while for him to fall asleep. Even through the haze of exhaustion, the fun he was having with his friends was replaying in his head over and over.

As he started to drift off, he heard Jer get up from his bed and go out of the room, presumably to the bathroom. If he saw anymore weird stuff from Jer towards Sandra or Emily, he would have to call him on it.

There was a sound of someone moving. For a moment Richard thought he was dreaming, but then he realized someone else was in the room. In his half-asleep state, he froze in confusion. Had Jer come back in?

Then he heard the sheets on Jer's bed rustle again, and he realized that Jenna was in his bed. I guess I really do have a new roommate,  Richard thought.

Jer did return then, and slipped back into his bed.

Richard's last thought as he fell asleep was that Jer was an interesting character.



-------

Chapter 11: Andante



Irina had just set the piano bench to the right height when Richard came into the studio. Three minutes early, she was pleased to note.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning. How is your first week?" Irina asked him as she settled into her chair near the piano, while Richard unpacked his books.

"Busy, but so far so good."

"Good, good."

"What do you want me to start with?"

"Play the Liszt."

Richard sat and reached for the bench knobs out of habit, but found he didn't need to adjust them.

After a brief stretch, he played. Irina let him play the piece for a while. His playing was not as improved as she would have liked, but it wasn't uncommon for there to be an adjustment period during the first few weeks, particularly for first years.

After she stopped him, she asked what else he was working on.

"Beethoven, Opus 109," he offered, somewhat eagerly. "I started learning it on my own this summer. I'm still working on it, though."

Irina smiled. We are always working on everything, Richard.

"Play me what you have learned," she said.

Richard started with the third movement. Irina started making a mental list of the things he needed to work on in the piece. While the teacher inside her kept a critical ear on the playing, her mind drifted off slightly. As he played through the first variation, she got increasingly excited about working with Richard this year. He was inherently musical. As with most young pianists she encountered, he didn't posses the subtle technique to let that musicality shine most of the time. Instead, prodigies like him were usually encouraged along the more physical track, improving finger work by use of exercises and scales, and developing their prowess in a somewhat superficial way.

It wasn't that virtuosic technique was useless; on the contrary, it was vital to being able to transmit one's feelings through the instrument. And to be fair, Richard was perhaps eighteen; how many people his age had the emotional backdrop to play some of these pieces with deep feeling? It remained to be seen if Richard really did, but Irina was a good judge of talent, now.

She herself was one of the few who really did have the fire at that age, and even younger. The reasons made her shudder, though. A difficult childhood was not a fair price to pay for greatness. Still, the past is passed.

As Richard entered the third variation, the notes brought Irina back to the present. She sat forward in her chair. Seemingly in answer to her question, Richard opened a little window into his emotions in that variation. Irina smiled ever so slightly, hearing him intermingle the melodies so passionately. He did understand this section, even if he still hadn't mastered it yet.

Irina sat back, letting out a long, but silent breath. For having learned the piece on his own, he had done well. She vaguely wondered where Richard's passions came from, but it didn't matter. The best music transcended specifics, and captured the core emotion. Richard had done just that, for a few minutes.

When the final notes of the movement rang out, Irina stood and motioned for Richard to stand. For now, she would start where he was comfortable, with discussions of technique. But technique to bring out the passion even more delicately, more refined, and not technique to dazzle and show off.

As Richard stood aside, Irina sat, and began to show him some of the things he needed to learn.

"The phrasing on the melody could be better brought out by this fingering," she demonstrated.

Richard notated in his score the fingerings she suggested.

"Try it," Irina said, standing again.

Richard played the passage, changing his fingering to Irina's suggestion. After some attempts, he played it smoothly.

Now play it with passion,  Irina thought. "Again," she said.

Richard played it again, more musically.

It was hard to rewind passion and repeatedly play it in little snippets, she knew. But she could hear the right feeling in Richard's playing. Rather than have him continue, she moved to the next section she wanted to comment on.

It was tempting to try and teach Richard everything at once, to rip away the mental clothing he wore, and show him how to let go.

But he wasn't ready for that. Not in his second lesson.

One step at a time.

-------

"How was your lesson?" Sandra asked. She and Richard were sitting in the corner of Dobra's class, waiting for him to arrive.

"I think it was good," Richard said. "She's hard to read. She doesn't really comment on what I've done, but instead shows me where to go next."

"Better to move forward than look back," Sandra said.

"I guess. How about your lesson?"

"Heh. It's going to be a long year."

"Why?"

"I have a lot to learn. Bridget wants to rework my breathing technique from the ground up. Like starting over in some ways."

"Wow. Is that frustrating?"

"Frustrating? No, it's great. That's why I came here: to learn these things from her."

"Cool. Although if Ms. T. wanted to change my technique significantly, I'd probably have a hard time with it."

Sandra shrugged. "This will make me a better singer," she said simply.

Dr. Dobra strode into the class, and everyone became quiet.

"Today we begin the study of intervals," he announced. "Richard, how do we define an interval?"

Richard snapped out of his stare and looked back into Dobra's eyes. "Um, how far apart two notes are?"

"Yes. In essence, yes." As fast as Dobra's penetrating stare had landed on Richard, it left and wandered the class again. His eyes feel like a searchlight when they land on you,  Richard thought, relieved he had scored an easy question. There had been some uncomfortable moments for some students in the first class a couple of days before. Dobra didn't mind waiting a long time for a student to try and sing a passage, or answer a question.

By Dobra's own admission, the first class had been a preview of things to come, and he hadn't really expected anyone to do those things perfectly. If they could do them, they should be in the next level class.

But that didn't lessen the discomfort of the pregnant silence a student felt as he or she bored holes into the sight singing example in their book.

Dobra was as methodical a teacher as Richard had ever seen. Despite the vague sense of apprehension he felt sitting in the corner, knowing that at any moment he could be called on, he actually liked Dobra's method. In the first ten minutes of the discussion of intervals (a subject Richard thought was simple enough to understand), Dobra had already made some connections Richard had never even considered.

Not that they mattered; Richard couldn't see how that would help his playing. But it was interesting nonetheless.

A guy walked into the classroom about ten minutes into the period. Richard recognized him as the one who was late the first class period as well.

"Mr. Deerfield. You are late," Dr. Dobra said evenly.

"Sorry."

"This is the last time I will tolerate lateness. That goes for everyone in the class. Mr. Deerfield just used your last free pass."

"He should switch to Emily's class," Richard whispered to Sandra.

"Ten bucks says he's not in this class by the end of the semester," she whispered back.

"I think you're right."

Dr. Dobra had returned to talking about the perfect fifth, and Richard paid attention again. Everyone paid attention. Doing otherwise was asking for trouble.

-------

"Walking to this English class is going to get old pretty quick," Richard said.

"Especially if Dobra keeps running over time," Sandra agreed.

"Even if he doesn't, it's a fast walk just to get to English right on time. Today I was five minutes late."

"Good thing your English teacher isn't like Dobra about lateness."

"No, but it's almost as bad having to walk into a classroom of fifty people and having everyone turn to look at you."

The phone rang. Emily picked it up before Richard could reach for it.

"Wexford Conservatory, can I help you?"

There was a pause, and then Emily picked up the concert guide lying on the desk. She passed along a start time for Thursday's faculty recital, and then hung the phone up. In the meantime, Sandra buzzed in a trombone player.

"You know, I think I'm going to go practice," Richard said. "I'm not really needed here."

"We're just trying to help," Sandra pouted.

"Ooh, look, it's Joel!" Emily said, pointing to the monitor.

"Joel?"

"Yeah, he plays French horn too."

Bzzzt. Emily pressed the button, but just as Joel reached for the handle, Emily let go. Richard and Sandra watched the monitor as Joel pulled on the door in vain, and then reached for the buzzer again.

"You need to hold it until they open the door," Richard explained.

Emily gave just him an arch look.

Again Emily teased Joel with the door. Each time he put his hand on the door, Emily let go. Finally Joel looked at the camera and desperately waved a hand. Richard could almost hear him saying "What the hell?"

"Emily, you're going to get me in trouble!" Richard said, trying to reach for the button. A struggle ensued, with Emily trying to keep Richard from letting Joel in.

"How old are you two?" Sandra asked, although she was clearly amused.

Richard finally managed to press the button, and Joel pulled the door in time.

"Thanks a lot!" Joel called from down the hallway. The sarcasm in his voice was not lost in the distance.

"You're welcome!" Emily called back.

In the monitor, Joel paused on his way to the stairs, and then turned to come down the hallway.

"Great, now you pissed him off," Richard said.

"Nah, Joel's cool. He'll think it was funny."

Joel came into view shortly after. When he saw Emily sitting behind the front desk, he rolled his eyes.

"I should have known..." he said. "Three people working the front desk, and you can't figure out how to let someone in?"

"Hey, this one was all Emily," Richard protested.

"Figures," Joel said.

Introductions went around, and then Joel set his horn down and leaned against the desk.

"I should report you to Mort," Joel said jokingly to Emily.

"Go ahead," Emily said dismissively. "I don't really even work here."

"We're just giving Richard a hand," Sandra added.

Joel laughed. "Watch out with Emily," he said to Richard and Sandra, "she'll get you in trouble every time."

"Hey! When have I ever gotten you in trouble?"

"Are you serious?" Joel said. "Well, how about when you made me sneak into that room at EMF, for one."

"Made you? Whatever!"

"I still never found out who that guy was," Joel said cryptically.

Emily laughed. "Me neither."

"And how about the time we went up into the ceiling space over the hall, and then the janitor found us?"

"Oh, forgot about that one," Emily said.

"Need I go on?" Joel asked with a twinkle in his eye.

Sandra got the distinct impression that Joel and Emily had had some sort of relationship in the past. She could also tell from the look in Emily's eyes that she didn't hate her ex-boyfriends as much as she pretended to.

"Um, no, that's probably enough," Emily said, eyeing Richard and Sandra as if suddenly remembering they were there.

"Nice meeting you all," Joel said, hefting his horn case.

"Bye," they answered.

Joel slipped away down the stairs.

Sandra was eyeing Emily with a grin.

"What?" Emily said.

"Old boyfriend?" Sandra asked.

"Um, maybe."

"Pfft, 'maybe' my ass."

"I went out with him a few years ago at Eastern Music Festival."

"Seems nice enough," Richard said.

Emily shrugged.

"Speaking of practicing, I need to get to it," Sandra sighed.

"Yeah me too. Sorry Richard, but all these classes get in the way of practicing during the day."

"Tell me about it. I've already forgotten half of what Ms. T. said this morning. I didn't get to practice today, with that harmony assignment and an English reading. I'm probably going to try and practice after I'm done here, until the building closes."

"Will you come say goodnight after you're done?"

"Of course," Richard said.

The girls smiled suggestively as they walked off. Richard's mood sank as he looked at his watch.

-------

Richard had forgotten all about Dave and the recording sessions until Dave came through the lobby carrying some tapes on his way up to the control room.

"Richard! How's it going, man?"

"Good. How's the recording?"

"It went well the last couple of nights. We're back at it tonight, if you want to stop by again. You're welcome to do so."

"Thanks. Things are pretty busy, though," Richard said.

"Well, you know where it is," Dave said, as he headed up the stairs.

-------

The girls stopped by the front desk again when they had finished practicing.

"I'm going to check out this recording session again tonight, so I might be a little late coming to the room," Richard said.

"How late? The building closes at midnight."

"I know, but apparently they start at midnight. I'll probably just stay for a while and see what they're doing."

"We'll put out a note if we went to bed," Sandra said.

"Not every night can be a party," Emily said.

"Sorry."

"No, it's cool. If I could go watch a recording session, I'd do that too."

"You want me to see if you two can watch too?" Richard asked. He didn't think that it would be appropriate to ask Dave if he could start inviting friends, but he hadn't thought of that until he had already offered to ask. Thankfully the girls declined.

"No, that's probably not cool," Emily said.

"We'll at least catch some breakfast at eight," Sandra said.

"Yeah, about that..." Emily said.

"Hey, if I can get up at eight, so can you two!" Sandra said. "It's not like I'm asking on Monday-Wednesday-Fridays at seven!"

"True," Emily conceded. "Because that will never happen..."

"All right, see you later, Richard. Maybe," Sandra said.

The girls blew him a kiss and then headed off down the hallway. Richard waited expectantly for them to show up in the video monitor.

A minute later, they had still not shown up. Richard frowned and walked over to peer down the hallway. No sign of the girls. Richard was fairly sure they couldn't escape the monitor's field of view, so he walked down the hall to see where they would have gone.

As he passed the dark coatroom, he heard a giggle. Richard turned and saw Emily and Sandra behind the counter, watching him with two big smiles. Before he could speak, Emily pulled him through the gap in the counter top and they were all over him.

Only the insistent sound of someone knocking on the glass doors down the hall brought Richard to his senses.

Wordlessly, he pulled away from the girls, shook his head with a smile, and stepped out into the hall. Someone was waving at the back doors.

"It's Jer," he said quietly. "I'm going to go let him in, and then I need to get back to work!"

The girls just giggled.

Richard let Jer in manually at the back door.

"Dude, slacking on the job!"

"Nah, I was taking a piss."

"In the coatroom?"

"No, I was just checking for ... um, a pencil. Working on theory tonight."

"I have one in the studio, if you want me to grab it," Jer offered.

"Um, sure," Richard said, glad he had covered it.

Jer started walking down the hallway, instead of going downstairs to the practice rooms.

"Where are you going?" Richard asked, hurrying to catch up with him. His nerves jumped slightly.

"Um, to get my bass from the bass studio?"

Richard remembered the bass studio was down past the front desk. He just hoped the girls were hidden. He knew Jer wouldn't report him or anything, but Richard didn't want to get teased if Jer should see them.

All was dark and quiet as they went past the coatroom. Jer paid it no notice, and the girls were nowhere to be seen.

"Yo, I'll be right back with that pencil," Jer said, as he made the turn down the hallway leading to the bass studio.

Richard sat at his desk again, heart recovering. Joel was right: Emily was a trouble maker. Or maybe it was Sandra. Maybe both.

He saw movement in the monitor, and it was the girls waving to him on their way out.

Jer came to the desk on his way out a few minutes later, rolling his bass along, and carrying the promised pencil.

"Here. Oh, by the way, your dad called tonight."

"Shit, I forgot to call him yesterday, again."

Jer shrugged, and then grinned. "See you later," he said. As he reached the hallway, he turned back. "Oh, is the coatroom clear?"

"Clear?" Richard said, not understanding.

"If you and Sandra and Emily are done, maybe Jenna and I can use it."

Before Richard could protest, Jer just sniggered and went down the hall. Richard considered yelling something after him, but everything that came to mind didn't seem appropriate to be yelling through the halls of the conservatory.

When he turned back to the desk, Richard threw his head back and groaned. Sitting right in plain sight was a coffee mug. It was full of sharpened, bright yellow pencils.

-------

Dave was just coming out of the control room when Richard approached.

"Hey, man, are you going to watch for a bit?"

"Sure, if that's cool."

"Yeah, definitely," Dave said. "I just need to make a small change to the microphones. Jarrett is in there; go in and grab a seat."

Jarrett was welcoming when he saw Richard again. Through the window, Dave was moving the stands a little, while Maria warmed up. The room was very quiet, since Dave had presumably turned the volume down while he made adjustments.

Richard promised he would stay fifteen ... no, twenty minutes, and then go. Richard was tired from the hour of practice he had just gotten in, not to mention the long day. And he still wanted to see the girls if he could.

Dave came back to the room, and turned the volume up as he sat in his chair. Again Richard felt surrounded by the sound in the hall, and it was like he had been transported to the stage.

There was something very comfortable about hanging out in the control room. The dim halogen lighting was a sharp contrast to the three hours of fluorescent hell he had to endure in the lobby during front desk duty, and the room was alive with sound, even when Maria was not playing. It was like the microphones could pick up the feeling of anticipation in the air.

Maria stopped warming up and stood to stretch. When Dave pulled back from the mixing board and grinned at Richard, Richard ventured a question.

"Do you take down the microphones every night?"

"Yes, other people have to use the hall during the day," Dave said.

"How do you get everything to sound the same from day to day?"

"We spike the positions, and measure everything."

"Why did you have to adjust the microphones, then, if you already had them set like the other night? Won't that change the sound?"

Dave nodded appreciatively. "Yes. When we start out with the settings from the previous night, we are close. But the hall changes from day to day. The piano, too. It's more humid tonight than last night. We use our ears: we compare the sound from last night to tonight by playing yesterday's tapes, and then make adjustments, if needed."

"Sounds complicated."

Dave shrugged.

"No more than any other art form," Jarrett said.

Maria sat again, and indicated she was ready.

There was some activity as Dave started tapes and notated timings, and then he gave Maria the go signal. Jarrett quietly spoke into a table microphone he had next to the score: "Take 44."

Maria started, and played a complete take of a piece. It ran about twelve minutes.

When she finished, Jarrett spoke to Maria through his microphone.

"Wonderful take, Maria, brilliant. Come take a listen."

Richard considered leaving, but the recording process was fascinating. Half-hour, he thought.

-------

Richard had long given up hope of seeing the girls. It was after one-thirty in the morning, and Richard still didn't want to leave. Maria had just finished another take to cover a wrong note. Dave had explained that after the session was finished, they would load all the recorded takes into a computer, and then splice together the best takes of each section. In this way they could remove any mistakes or glitches. So a complete, perfect run through was unnecessary these days.

Jarrett invited Maria to listen to the corrected take.

"So you do have to have every part recorded correctly?" Richard asked.

"Yes," Jarrett agreed. "That's my job. I keep track of the music, and notate any mistakes or noises. Like if a siren goes by outside, we can't use that take either. So Maria played this note here wrong in the run through, so I put an 'X' and '58' so I know that take 58 is no good there. So now she just played it correctly. We'll probably insert these nine bars here from the last take, into the run through."

"But she messed up a bass note there," Richard said.

Jarrett shrugged. "The last take will cover it."

"I mean she messed up a bass note in that last take."

Jarrett frowned and turned to the score. "Where?"

Richard pointed to the measure. He was pretty sure when he heard her play the passage, she had played something different. That measure had captured his attention in the run through, and sounded different in the last take.

Now he felt somewhat foolish for having opened his mouth. What if he was wrong? And who was he to be telling Jarrett?

"Dave, can you play that take again?"

Dave cued up the last take and played it. Richard followed the score over Jarrett's shoulder and watched as the measure approached.

The measure went by and Jarrett looked up at Richard, nodding slowly.

"Good ear, Richard, good ear," Jarrett said, sticking out his lower lip. "Do you know this piece?"

"No, I just happened to remember that little bit of the piece and it sounded different."

"Heh, heh. Do you want to take my place for the rest of the week?" Jarrett said amiably.

Dave laughed. "Fire the producer," he said dramatically with a grin.

Richard sat in his chair, feeling a little embarrassed at having been correct after all.

"I think we can still splice around that, but we'll see what Maria says," Jarrett said.

Dave turned to Richard. "How would you like to work for me?"

"What?"

"I always hire two or three new students each year to work in the recording service. It's better than sitting at the front desk, I think."

"Um, I ... sure, but how does that work?"

"I'll get you transferred over, simple as that."

"What about the front desk job?"

"Richard, anyone can work the front desk. Not everyone has a good ear," Jarrett said.

"Plus, the pay rate is a little better than what you will get at the front desk," Dave added.

Richard nodded thoughtfully as Maria knocked.

"Let's talk tomorrow. Come by my office during the afternoon," Dave said, as he went to open the door.

Richard couldn't help but feel ten feet tall.

-------

When Richard pulled up to the girls' door at a quarter to three, he could barely focus on the note taped to the door.

"Richard, we went to bed. Sorry you missed the fun! S&E ... PS, eight am in the lobby for breakfast. Don't be late."

Eight a.m. That meant getting up at seven thirty. Richard looked at his watch as he trudged up the stairs to his room. How much sleep will I get? He was having trouble figuring out what two forty-five minus seven thirty was, or was it the other way around? And what fun had he missed?

He only vaguely remembered getting into bed.



-------

Chapter 12: Sarabande



(A few days later... )

Fuck! Not only had Jer been obliviously loud when he woke up to go wherever the hell he went, but now Jer's alarm was going off. And he was long gone. Rock music was trying to squeeze out through the small speakers of his clock-radio. Did he not see me sleeping in my bed? Fucking idiot.

Richard felt around on his desk, found a hefty book, and lofted it across the room. It hit the radio with a clunk, and for a moment the thing spat a curse of static at him. Unfortunately, it continued its song.

Richard lay in his bed, hoping power would fail in the building.

It didn't. He finally jumped up and marched over to the offending appliance.

"Good morning, Rock 107!" the much-too-hyper announcer came on. "This is the Saturday morning all request line. This next one goes out to Ian in Au — THWIP!..."

Richard held the dangling plug in his hand, and watched in satisfaction as the red '6:38' on the clock faded away. He hadn't felt like trying to find the off button. With his luck he'd have hit the sleep button instead, and had the thing go off again nine minutes later.

He took a deep breath and climbed back into bed, hoping he could regain the deep sleep he was in.

-------

Richard woke up to drumming. Fucking percussionists ... Can't they go to the building to practice? His head was pounding too. He opened his eyes, and the world faded into view. His clock said eight-something.

Richard suddenly realized the drumming was on his door.

"Who is it?" he yelled out gruffly. He hoped it wasn't someone he liked very much, because this new interruption was not welcome.

"It's us," came Emily's voice.

Richard cleared his eyes, and sat up. What could they possibly want? They were up as late as I was last night. They drank the same amount of wine as I did. So why are they up so freaking early? It's Saturday!

Richard stood and stumbled to the door. As he pulled it open, Emily and Sandra peeked in.

"Hey. What's wrong?" he asked.

The girls were smiling. "Nothing," Sandra shrugged.

"You weren't still sleeping, were you?" Emily asked.

"No, I've been up for hours," Richard drawled.

"Good. Get dressed."

"Why?"

"We're going out."

"Out? Where?"

"Music festival," Emily said simply.

"Music festival? What are you talking about?"

"There was a poster at Buck's yesterday when I went to get a coffee. I forgot to tell you last night that we were going."

"And it starts at eight in the morning?"

"No, we have to get there. It's not next door, you know."

Richard rubbed his forehead. "I don't have any cash."

"I'm buying. No, no protests allowed," Emily said, forestalling Richard with a raised hand.

Richard took a deep breath and tried again to clear his head. "All right, let me shower at least."

"We'll be at Buck's getting some food. You want a croissant and an iced mocha?" Sandra asked.

Richard shrugged. The day was already beyond his control, it seemed. "Sure, whatever."

"Hurry, we'll meet you there!"

The girls bounced off down the hallway.

Despite being tempted to lie down in bed again and write the whole episode off as a strange dream, Richard went to shower instead.

-------

When they set out from Buck's, Richard felt more alive. The coffee and croissant had helped even more than the shower.

"All right, so what the hell is this festival?" he asked.

Sandra handed Richard the red poster as they walked. Emily was wearing a backpack, Richard noted. He had a feeling he knew what was inside.

"14500 East Highland Road? The same Highland Road that Melinda's Café is on?"

"Belinda's," Emily corrected. "Yeah. It has to be."

"But 14500? We can't walk all day."

"There's a city bus on Highland, I checked the bus map this morning," Emily said.

"Where?"

"At the stop in front of the school there's a route map," she said.

She's nothing if not resourceful,  Richard admitted to himself.

"So it's at a farm?"

"That's what it says."

"It has to be far out of town then," Richard said.

"We'll see."

Richard shrugged. They didn't seem concerned.

When they reached Highland Road, Emily pointed to a storefront. "2031 East," she said confidently. "Only twelve thousand to go!"

Rather quickly a bus came, and the trio ran to the stop to catch it. It was crowded with blue-collar workers on their way to their jobs.

The city went by as they ascended numbers along Highland Road. People climbed on, others exited. The trio went from standing to finally securing seats across from each other.

"How far does this go?" Richard yelled over to Emily.

"To the end, supposedly."

Richard laughed. "Thanks, that's helpful," he said.

The bus was loud, and talking was difficult. After a half-hour ride, the crowd had thinned out. Buildings got shorter and spread out, and the city transformed to more hilly terrain with bunches of trees. The numbers were up to 12400 by then.

"I think this is where we get off," Emily said.

The bus had pulled into a circular drive where another bus was just departing from, heading back west. As they stepped off the bus, Emily pointed down Highland Road.

"Should be a mile or two up the road now. This will be fun!"

The three of them set off down the sidewalk. Ahead was a long stretch of road, perhaps a mile long, that went down through a dale surrounded by trees. A sign indicated that they were leaving city limits.

"Well, we're in the wild now," Emily proclaimed.

"Yeah. That backpack isn't going to be so comfortable by the top of that hill up there," Richard said.

"Yeah, that's too bad, since you'll be carrying it by then," Emily retorted.

Sandra guffawed. "It would be lighter if we emptied some of the contents," she said.

"It's not even ten yet!" Richard exclaimed.

"Um, kidding?"

"Oh, right."

"Well, first week of school wasn't so bad," Emily said.

"Nah," Sandra agreed. "When are you starting your new job, Richard?"

"Monday I start getting trained. I get paid for training, which is pretty cool."

"So what's your work schedule going to be like? Can we come pester you in the recording room instead of the front desk?"

"I don't know about that," Richard said. "Dave said the schedule is flexible. Every few days he puts up a list of upcoming concerts that need to be recorded, and the dozen of us who work for him stop by and pick which ones we can do."

"That has to be more fun than working the front desk," Emily said.

"I hope so. I was already getting angry at that stupid video monitor by the end of my last shift."

"Even when we were in it?" Sandra said with a pout.

"No, that was definitely not boring," Richard agreed. "Although Jer did know you were in the coatroom. I forgot to tell you."

"How?"

"He guessed." Richard left out the part about the pencils, cringing at the memory. Luckily, Jer had not said anything about it since.

After some time, the three of them finally crested the top of the other side of the dale. The day was getting hot, and they were getting a bit tired from the climb. As promised, Richard had the pack now.

The trees thinned out some, giving way to more open space. A small group of businesses renting tractors and selling feed stood at the entrance to Highland Township.

They stopped to rest for a moment on a bench in front of the feed store.

"I'm thirsty. Can you turn wine into water?" Emily asked Richard.

"Oh, shit," Sandra said, looking at the rental store across the road.

"What?"

"Look," she said. She pointed at the building.

"Ooh, I see tractors," Emily said. "Feeling at home, Sandra?"

Richard noticed the problem. "Maybe one of the numbers fell off the store," he said quietly. He had a bad feeling it hadn't.

The number on the building was 1215. The three of them turned to the feed store. 1220 East Highland Road.

"But..." Emily said, at a loss for words.

"I guess the numbers started over when we left city limits," Richard said.

"No! Why? Who the hell would do that?" Emily exclaimed.

Richard and Sandra had no answer.

Emily stood up. "Come on," she said.

Richard and Sandra followed her into the feed store.

An older gentleman was working the counter. "Help you?"

"Yeah, do you know where Morton Lake Farm is?"

The man nodded. "Sure. It's down Highland a little ways."

"How far?"

"Oh, about fifteen, maybe twenty minutes."

"Um, is that fifteen minutes by car?"

"Well, sure. You're not walking there, are you?"

The trio stared at the floor. "No, no, we're not walking there," Richard said.

They went back outside. Highland Road stretched east through fields, a straight ribbon of asphalt rather devoid of buildings or shade.

"So fifteen minutes by car is like fifteen hours on foot," Sandra said.

"Now what?" Richard asked.

For a few moments, the three of them were silent and glum. Then the pay phone rang behind them.

Sandra spoke first. "Richard, answer it. It's probably your Dad."

Richard and Emily burst out laughing, and the dour mood was swept away.

"We're going to hitch a ride," Emily said, starting off towards Morton Lake Farm.

Richard frowned at Sandra. She just shrugged, and they set off after Emily.

The third car that passed, about ten minutes after they set off from the feed store, slowed up ahead in response to their thumbs. An old Honda hatchback came to a noisy halt in the dirt and gravel on the shoulder.

The three of them gave an excited whoop, and ran up to the idling car. A man peered out across the passenger seat.

"Where are you headed?" he yelled over the radio that was blasting classic rock.

"Morton Lake Farm?" Emily said.

"Where's that?"

"Down Highland about twenty minutes."

"I'll take you most of the way, if you can squeeze in," he said.

Emily looked at Richard and Sandra, and getting no protest, opened the door. The girls climbed into the back seat, such as it was, and then Richard got in shotgun, moving the seat up.

"Donny," the man said loudly, extending a hand.

The three of them introduced themselves. "Thanks for the ride," Richard yelled over the wind and the radio.

"No problem."

Richard grinned back at the girls. Sandra was behind Donny's seat, and unable to squeeze her long legs into the floor well, she instead had them stretched out over Emily's legs. She hadn't made much effort to adjust her high-riding skirt, and Richard couldn't help raise a brow at her. Sandra just mouthed a kiss at him.

Donny pulled a joint out from his shirt pocket and lit it up. "You ain't cops, right?" he said.

"Um, do we look like cops?" Richard asked.

"Just checking." With a knee on the wheel, Donny lit up the joint under the shelter of his curled hand. Good thing Highland road is arrow straight,  Richard thought.

Donny took a long draw on the joint, and then held it out to Richard. Richard dismissed it with a wave of his hand. Donny held it behind him, but the girls also declined.

"What are you all doing at the farm, swimming?" Donny asked. "Long way to go for a swim."

"Music festival," Emily said.

"Oh, shit, that's this weekend! Right on," Donny said. "I know where you're going, now. I can take you all the way there. It's not too far from the school I work at."

Richard turned and saw Emily and Sandra give each other incredulous looks.

Donny stepped on the gas, and the wind drowned out any possibility of conversation.

-------

The festival was just getting started when they spread their blanket on the grass. They spent the midday lying in the sun, relaxing, sipping wine, listening to the bands, and occasionally fooling around. They didn't see anyone they knew, so they weren't concerned about being open with their kissing. It was exciting to know people were probably watching and wondering what their relationship was all about.

During a break between bands, they packed up the backpack and walked up to the row of concession booths to get some late lunch.

"I swear these are the same people who work the county fair back home," Sandra said. "Fry bread, roasted corn, sugar lemonade. No fried Twinkies, though."

"Nasty, fried Twinkies?" Richard said.

"Yeah, they were the hit at the last fair. I'm sorry to say I actually tried one. Ugh!"

"God, what are they going to do next?"

"Fried RC cola?" Emily offered.

Sandra and Richard guffawed.

The three of them settled on some hot dogs and lemonade.

"Can't always eat good food," Richard said.

"Yeah, Tapler will seem like a luxury after this," Sandra agreed.

"How are we getting home?" Richard asked.

"I'm sure someone here will be heading back to town," Emily said. "We just need to find a ride once people start heading out."

After finishing their food, they walked through the booths. Emily picked out a pair of earrings she liked for ten dollars. Richard lamented his lack of funds, wishing he could buy them for her. He was already deep in the hole with them. Despite their assurances he didn't owe them anything, he was going to repay them.

"I want to get my hair done like that," Emily said, pointing to one of the booths.

A woman in her mid-twenties was just finishing getting her hair braided in a Caribbean style. She caught Richard's eye and flashed him a smile.

"Go for it," Richard said, his eyes lingering on the woman's smile. It was dazzling.

"Would you like that?" Emily asked him.

"Yeah, that would be very cool," he said.

"Will you do it with me?" she asked Sandra.

"Sure, I'll try it!"

"Too bad you don't have long hair, Richard," Emily teased.

"Yeah, too bad. I'm sure that would be a good look for me. Hey, I think I'm going to walk up to the lake," Richard said. "Maybe we can swim after you're done, since it's getting hot."

"Okay, come back and get us in a little while," Sandra said.

"No, just come up and find me when you're finished," Richard said. "I'll be somewhere obvious; if not, I'll come find you."

"All right, see you in a bit," Emily said.

Richard took the pack and waved, and then headed towards the lake. It was comforting to leave the bustle of the festival and walk into the quiet wooded area where the lake was. It had been a fun morning, although he was still tired from the previous evening. The three of them had been up late in the girls' room playing games, and doing other things.

The walk did him good; by the time he reached the lake, he felt energetic. The lake was of moderate size, and the trees grew right up to the edge, giving it a feeling of isolation that was wonderful. Richard pulled the blanket from the pack and spread it over the dark ground. He laid down and sighed, taking in the afternoon air. The water looked inviting, but he was going to wait for the girls.

He hadn't thought to bring a bathing suit, but no one was around. He could just go in with his boxers. With this heat, he would dry off fairly quickly.

Richard closed his eyes, and daydreamed to the sound of the wind in the leaves.

-------

Allison walked slowly up the path towards the lake. She was pretty sure he had come this way. She was intrigued by him. When she was getting her hair done, she had smiled at him almost instinctively. She had been watching him for a while that morning. Something about him was tremendously exciting. The way he was with his two friends, and the way he moved. It was musical.

She spotted him lying on a blanket near the edge of the lake. She made a little more noise as she approached. He stirred at the sound.

"Oh, hello," she said, pretending that she hadn't expected to see him.

He sat up and looked at her. "Hi," he said.

"Sorry to wake you," she said.

"Oh, no, I wasn't sleeping," he dismissed with a wave.

"Are you contemplating a swim? Nice arvo for one."

"Um, I'm waiting for my friends," he said.

"Have you felt the water?" Allison asked.

"No," he admitted.

"I'm Allison," she said.

"Richard," he replied with a wave.

Allison's heart was beating a little faster than she expected. Richard's eyes held hers for a moment, before turning back to the lake.

"Are you students at the college?" she asked after a bit.

"Music school," Richard said. "I play the piano."

"Onya. I play the flute myself."

"Cool. Are you Australian?"

"Is it that obvious?" she said with a smile. Richard shrugged and grinned.

Allison put her day bag down and sat on a boulder a few yards away from Richard. "I'm here for some work," she said.

"What do you do?" he asked.

"I'm doing some research at a laboratory here in the city. Medical research."

"Are you a doctor?" Richard asked.

"No, no. I look at mouse cells through a microscope."

"Ah."

Allison looked at the lake. A swim would be perfect now. She was always modest about her dress, so the thought of baring herself down to the bikini she was wearing, in front of Richard, was both exciting and frightening. Back home, she would have maybe walked on to another spot. But she was far from home. No one here knew her; she'd never see these people again. She threw caution to the wind.

"I'm going to give it a try," Allison said.

"What?" Richard asked, confused.

Allison pointed to the lake. "Swim." She stood, and began to undress. She noticed that Richard averted his eyes.

"Are those your girlfriends?" Allison asked suddenly.

Richard turned to look. "Where?"

Allison grinned at his reaction. "No, I meant those two girls you are with."

"Oh, well, we ... yes, I suppose so," Richard said.

Allison stripped to her blue bathing suit, and stepped down among the rocks. She wondered if Richard was watching her. The idea was somewhat foreign.

After dipping a toe in, she entered the lake. She wasted no time, sinking in to her neck quickly.

"Oh, it's not cold at all," she said, treading water and looking back at Richard.

"That's good to hear."

"Do your friends play music too?"

"Yeah, voice and French horn," Richard said.

"I have a boyfriend back in Australia," she said. She needed to keep control of the situation. "Only one, though," she added, with a laugh.

"How long are you in the states?"

"Another week or so."

"Do you miss him?"

"Of course. He's a good bloke, treats me well," she said.

"What's he do?"

"He works with kids. Looks like your friends are coming," she said, pointing back at the trail.

Voices approached, and Richard turned to look at his friends bouncing up the trail. As they entered the clearing, they shouted out to Richard.

"Look, isn't it cool?" the blonde girl said, turning her head to show him the braids.

"Nice!" Richard said. The other girl had to show hers too.

"Hello!" she said to Allison. "How's the water?"

"Excellent," Allison said.

"It's hot. Let's get in," she said.

Richard seemed to hesitate, Allison noticed. Perhaps he didn't have a suit. Another twinge of excitement went through her.

The two girls wasted no time in removing their skirts. They certainly don't seem to be shy,  Allison thought.

Sandra and Emily introduced themselves to Allison as they entered the water. There were the expected questions about being Australian.

"Are you coming in?" Emily called out to Richard. He was still sitting on the blanket.

"In a minute."

"So you are both in music school, then?" Allison asked.

"Yeah. Richard told you?"

"We were talking a bit before you came up."

"Heh, heh, you leave a guy for a second and he's already found someone new," Emily said, loudly enough for Richard to hear.

"Hey!" he called out in protest.

"Oh, no, I came across him by accident," Allison said with a laugh. "It's all my fault."

"Hardly. As you can tell, he's already..." Sandra trailed off, blushing slightly.

Richard was now taking off his pants and shirt. As he approached the water in his boxers, Sandra let out a loud whistle. Richard rolled his eyes.

"Where'd you learn to whistle like that?" Emily said.

"Have you forgotten where I grew up?"

"Oh, right. Sandra is a farm girl," Emily told Allison.

Richard dipped a foot in. "It's cold," he said.

"Don't be such a wuss." Emily splashed him with water. Allison suppressed a giggle as his wet boxer shorts clung to his middle. Richard, perhaps sensing the exposure, jumped into the lake with a big splash.

"What's music school like?" Allison asked, when the waves and shrieks had calmed. "I play the flute, but I never went to school for it ... Only took lessons."

"Well, we still have lessons, but we also have to take a lot of music classes to go along with that."

"It must be wonderful," Allison said. "You are very lucky."

"It is fun," Richard admitted.

"Well of course he'd say that, he has the two of us to keep him occupied," Emily said.

"Emily!" Sandra said, pretending to be offended.

"What, she probably has already figured it out," Emily said.

"What's it like?" Allison asked before thinking. "I mean, I don't mean to be nosy, but I couldn't help seeing the three of you on the grass by the stage," she said.

The three of them looked at each other. Finally Emily spoke.

"It feels right," she said simply.

"I mean, I can't imagine seeing my bloke with another woman," Allison said. "I'd chuck a spaz!"

"Chuck a spaz?" Richard said, laughing.

"I guess you don't say that around here?"

"No, not very often," he said.

"Well, I'd be mad if he was with another."

"It's different, though; we all came to it together," Sandra said. "It wasn't like one of us was already with Richard."

"We both liked him, and he liked both of us, and we were roommates, and, well, things worked out that way," Emily explained.

"It's a difficult thing, but someone has to do it," Richard said grandly. The girls all laughed.

Allison nodded appreciatively. They were remarkably candid about it. Then again, you'd have to be, to have a relationship like theirs,  she thought.

For a moment, images of them making love flitted through her head. She swept them aside, feeling her face heating slightly.

"You wouldn't happen to be driving back to the city this evening, would you?" Emily asked.

"Actually I am, why?"

"Well, we hitchhiked out here, and we kind of need a ride back to town."

"I'd be happy to! I have a small rental car, but you could probably fit if you squeezed in," Allison said.

"Hey, it can't be worse than the ride we got out here," Sandra said. "I had to have my legs on top of Emily's."

"The driver was interesting, too," Richard said.

"Yeah, what a weird guy," Emily agreed. "He was smoking pot as he drove, and he had an old-school porn moustache, too."

"Porn moustache?" Richard said, laughing.

"Yeah, 1970's vintage."

"Didn't know you were a porn connoisseur," Richard said.

"Oh yeah, that's me. Porn mistress Emily!"

Allison laughed with the rest of them. She was glad to have met some fun people, and she was also glad she could offer them a ride back. Her colleagues at work never had fun like this. When they went out for beers, they talked about the efficiency of the latest fluorescent dyes. Porn moustaches and threesomes never came up, that was for sure!



-------

Chapter 13: Quartet



Allison was falling in love.

Over the last few hours of being with Emily, Sandra and Richard, she had started feeling something she hadn't felt for many years. It had always been there, but now it was thrust into the forefront of her thoughts.

As she drove her rental car back towards the city, she took a glance at Richard. He looked tired as he stared out of the passenger side window at the dusky fields.

Allison cast her mind back to a warm summer day eight years ago.

-------

"Allison, look, dear, there's something here for you!" her mother had called out when Allison returned from school. As she shrugged off her school pack, she had a feeling she knew what waited.

Sure enough, when Allison entered the kitchen, her mother pointed to an envelope sitting on the table. Embossed in the corner was the gold, red and blue seal of the University of Sydney. The envelope was not thin, and Allison felt a flutter of excitement.

Her father watched with a smile from the other side of the table as he sipped his tea. Allison tore open the envelope, and unfolded the letter. The letterhead was from the Conservatorium of Music.

"I'm in!" Allison said after reading the first few sentences.

"To the music program?" her mother asked.

"Yes. Oh, and they have given me scholarship, too!" Allison passed the letter to her mother, and her father read it over her shoulder. Allison could see the pride swelling through them. Their faces grew progressively more radiant as they finished the letter.

After sharing a long hug with them, Allison sat on a stool, fingering the pages.

"What are you going to do?" her father asked gently.

Allison smiled wistfully. "I don't know."

For a week, Allison went back and forth between her choice. She could either pursue flute at the Conservatorium, or enter the honours biology program at the University of Melbourne, where she had also gotten scholarship. In a way, she wished that the music school had not accepted her, so she didn't have to make this choice. But she hadn't ever led her life based on wishes and what-ifs, and she wasn't going to start now.

She had two equally good opportunities available to her, and she would soon have to decide the course of her life. It was a difficult thing to do at seventeen.

-------

Allison pulled slowly into the small lot by their dorm building. The day's fun was coming to a close.

"Hey, thanks again for giving us a ride," Richard offered.

"It was no problem."

"Great meeting you."

"Have a good trip home," Emily added, as she and Sandra climbed out of the car and shut the door.

They traded waves through the window, and then they turned to go. Allison watched the two girls each wrap an arm around Richard's waist as they walked to the building. She wondered where she would be now, had she chosen differently. As her imagination worked at producing the scenarios, she sighed heavily and backed out of the lot.

-------

On Monday, school got serious.

In the morning, Richard met up with Dave, and got a whirlwind tour of the equipment in the control room followed by some basic training on the mixing board. As Dave went through and explained the function of all the controls, including which ones Richard could leave alone and which were critical to a good recording, Richard began to make sense of the seemingly complicated layout.

"You see," Dave said, "for most of the recordings we do here, we want to capture the sound of the musicians and the concert hall as they are. So we try to mess with the sound as little as possible, which means the mixer is simple to use. Everything is done through microphone selection and placement, rather than making electronic changes."

"So do you set up microphones every time there's a concert, like you did for the recording sessions?" Richard asked.

"No," Dave said, pointing through the window to the empty concert hall. "We have four microphones hanging in the hall that run up into the mixer here. There are two mounted on that center bar, and then the two flank mics. We use those for the concert recordings. While it would be nice to place mics wherever we liked, there is an audience to consider, heh, heh."

"How do you move those, then?" Richard looked at the microphones. They were suspended from the ceiling on long cables, perhaps fifty feet in length.

"Up above the hall, we can adjust the height. From here," he said, leading Richard over to a panel on the wall, "we can move them forwards and backwards."

Dave flipped open the panel and revealed three metal spools with thin black nylon wound around the hubs. Pretty cool,  Richard thought. As he looked out into the hall again, he noticed the thin black lines running through the air to the microphones.

"Don't worry about moving any mics yet," Dave said. "I still need to show you how to get levels, run tape, keep timings, and a bunch of other stuff."

"I'm ready," Richard said.

"Good," Dave said. "Lesser people have left at this point, overwhelmed."

"Nah, this is neat," Richard said.

Dave grinned and nodded, and handed Richard two tapes, which looked like very small VHS tapes.

"Mostly we record on DAT tapes..."

-------

In theory class, Dr. Dobra seemed to have decided that one week was enough leisure time, and he started the class out with a quiz. He played a series of intervals on the piano, and had the students write down what they were.

Richard didn't find the intervals particularly hard, since they were limited to the handful that Dr. Dobra had covered the previous class. He could visualize them in his mind on the keyboard, see the two keys that needed to be pressed to produce the interval.

Next to him, he could hear Sandra humming the intervals almost inaudibly as she tried to work them out.

At the end of the quiz, Richard noticed that Dr. Dobra threw in a few intervals he had not covered. The man has no principles,  Richard thought. He could still see these intervals on his mental keyboard, but wasn't sure exactly what to call one of them. The terminology was still new to him, so he wrote the notes instead.

After the papers were collected, Dr. Dobra admitted he'd thrown in a few 'new' intervals, to which the students let out a combination of relieved groans and disgusted moans.

"I always have trouble with the ones that are low register," Sandra said. "I think it's because I don't sing down there," she added.

"Sandra," Dr. Dobra said. "Please sing for us. Example twenty-one." Dr. Dobra had a knack for finding the talkers in the class immediately.

Sandra set to singing the melody, while the rest of the class followed along. Richard, however, got lost in her voice. Every time he heard her sing these simple examples for class, Richard's arm hair stood on end. He wondered what she sounded like when she sang a real piece. Maybe it was time to have her perform one of these nights.

-------

Another late arrival to English was inevitable after Dobra kept them slightly over. For someone who doesn't tolerate lateness, he sure doesn't mind going past the end of class,  Richard thought.

As he walked back towards the dorm, the aroma of coffee hit him as he passed Buck's. He was addicted to their iced mochas, thanks to Emily and Sandra. Almost instinctively, he turned off the sidewalk and crossed the grass and headed towards the coffee house.

He had just gotten a surprise check from his Dad, in his mailbox. He felt a little bad, since he had only called him once last week. But Richard cashed the check anyway, after English class, and now the money was burning a hole in his wallet. It must have smelled the coffee, too.

Richard ordered a large iced mocha to go, and then browsed the flyers on the bulletin board. He grinned when he saw the one for the music festival still hanging on the wall. It had been a fun day, swimming with the girls and Allison. Richard wondered what she had thought of the three of them.

"Iced mocha?"

Richard snapped out of his thoughts and grabbed his drink. As he headed for the front door, he noticed Allison sitting at one of the tables. It was almost like his thoughts of her had made her appear.

"Allison?" he said, approaching her. She was reading a journal. Something with graphs and tables.

"Oh, Richard, hi! How are you? What a surprise!" she said all in a rush.

"Yeah, I was just getting a mocha," Richard said, raising his Styrofoam cup.

"Me too. I'm taking a break from the lab."

"Is the lab nearby?" Richard asked.

"Um, yeah, fairly close," Allison said vaguely. "What are you up to?"

"Just finished classes for the day, so I'm going to go practice for a bit."

"Sounds wonderful," Allison said earnestly. "I'm stuck with this paper about the latest news on the p53 gene," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Looks like you're busy, so I won't keep you," Richard said, although he was happy to have seen her again.

"No, the paper's not any good. Looked promising, but..."

Richard shrugged. "Don't look at me. I'd have no idea."

Allison laughed as she closed the journal up and set it aside on the table. "Do you want to sit for a moment?" she asked, gesturing to the chair across from her.

Richard set his bag and cup down joined her.

"I had fun the other day," she said, her eyes lively.

"Me too. I hope we didn't make you uncomfortable," Richard said quietly.

"Uncomfortable?"

"I mean, you know, Emily, Sandra and me."

"No, I see stuff like that all the time back home."

"Really? We need to go to Australia then!"

"No, I was just joking," Allison said, laughing.

"Oh, too bad. It's hard being private about it."

"What do you say when people ask you if you are together?" Allison asked, her voice full of interest.

"I don't know. Usually we say we're friends. But it must be obvious."

"Well, when you are all kissing it is pretty obvious," Allison said.

"Heh. We usually don't do that. Just at the music festival. There wasn't anyone there that we knew, so..." Richard trailed off.

"It must be fun. I mean, to be starting music school."

"Well, it's fun, but it's also a lot of work. Only one week has gone by, and already it feels like a month."

"But you are doing what you love," Allison said.

"Yeah, true. Aren't you?" Richard asked, meeting her eyes with his.

Allison hesitated for a moment. "Yes, for sure. But it's different. Music can do things to people that nothing else can."

"Well..."

"I mean, no one comes to my lab to watch me do research," Allison continued. "No one is moved by what I do."

Richard frowned. "No one comes to my theory classes to watch me sight-sing melodies either, believe me. People probably would leave the room, if they could!"

Allison giggled. "Okay, right, it's not all fun and games for you either, but..."

"And if you find a cure for cancer, think of the benefit. All the music playing in the world won't do that."

"But it might ... What's it like to get up in front of a full concert hall and play for people?"

"Well, I've never given a full recital in a big hall. I gave a few small recitals to friends and family in my house, and played a few pieces as part of my teacher's studio recital. That was pretty big: maybe eight hundred people went to that."

"Wow, it must be amazing to play in front of people who are listening to everything you do."

"Don't you play the flute?"

"Yes, but not very much anymore. My research is all-consuming, I'm afraid."

Richard shrugged. "No free time?"

"No, not at all. I'm trying to finish up my dissertation. By this time next year I should be getting my Ph.D."

"That's pretty cool."

"Yes, one more milestone, I suppose."

"You don't sound that excited about it," Richard said.

"I usually am. The last few days I've not been as excited."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Hey, Richard, can I ask a favor?"

"Sure, of course."

"I don't want to impose, so I'll understand if you don't want to. I know you're busy, and you are —"

"No, no, go ahead. What is it?"

"Um, can you give me a little tour of the music school?"

"The music school? The building, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"Well, of course, although there's not much to see. Just some practice rooms, the concert hall, stuff like that. Do you want to go now? I was heading there anyway."

"Sure, let me pack up my stuff. Thank you," she said.

Richard watched her stash away her papers, and wondered what she was thinking. It doesn't seem like she's hitting on me,  Richard thought, though he knew he wasn't always the best judge of that. And she has a boyfriend. But she seems to be fascinated with me, and music.

"Any particular reason you want to see the school? The building is not that interesting."

"Oh, that's all right. If this is too much trouble, you don't have to do this," Allison said.

"No trouble. Really. I was just wondering. Touring your lab would be cool. I bet you have all kinds of interesting equipment. So this seems like it would be boring."

Allison was quiet for a moment. "I almost went to a music conservatory, when I finished secondary college. I was torn between science, and music. I chose science."

"You must have been a good flute player, then," Richard said.

"Yes, I got along alright. I've never regretted it, mind you," Allison continued. "But sometimes I wonder what I would be doing if I had chosen music instead."

Richard nodded, understanding. "What do you want to see?"

"Oh, nothing in particular. I just want to take in the atmosphere. Show me some places where you go."

"Okay, let's walk over there."

As they made their way towards conservatory, Richard spoke first. "So how did you end up choosing science?"

"Oh, well, it's really quite stupid."

"Stupid?" Richard said, confused.

"I flipped a coin."

"You flipped a coin?"

"I know, I know. Heads, it was off to Melbourne and biology. Tails, and it was off to Sydney and music school."

"And it came up heads ... Wow. That's one way to make decisions!"

"It was not coming to me any other way," Allison said. "Have you ever had a choice where you really couldn't choose either way? Both choices were the right thing to do?"

"Oh, yes, for sure."

"And how did you decide?"

Richard grinned. "I didn't. I chose both."

Allison frowned for a second, and then burst out laughing. "Somehow that seems just like you to say that. I only wish I could do that."

"You've at least made the right choice, if you ever want to do both," Richard said.

Allison frowned. "How so? I barely have time to do my research."

"Yes, but eventually you may find more time. And you can always play music. Maybe not in a top orchestra, but you can still play. On the other hand, I can't wake up tomorrow and say, 'Hmm, I think today I will go out and work on curing cancer.' I mean, that's impossible."

Allison nodded thoughtfully. "But I'll never reach the level of musician that you will reach, or that Emily or Sandra will reach."

"So? I'll never be a lot of things either. When I was a kid, I was sure I was going to be an airline pilot. That doesn't seem to be in my future anymore."

"You mean they don't have flying classes here?"

Richard sniggered as he opened the front doors to the conservatory. "Come on, I'll show you around."

-------

As they traversed the hallway lined with practice rooms, Richard spotted Emily through one of the small windows in the doors. She was frozen in place, staring intently at the music on her stand. She did not appear to have her horn out of the case.

Richard pointed through the window with a grin. "Deep in concentration."

"Let's not bother her," Allison said.

"It's all right. She bothers me all the time," Richard said, opening the door quickly.

Emily visibly jumped. "Shit, you scared me, Richard!"

"Sorry!"

Allison poked her head in. "Hello."

"Oh, hey!" Emily said. "How did you get here?"

"I bumped into Richard when I was getting a coffee at the shop down the road."

"Buck's," Richard added.

"What were you doing there?" Emily asked him. "I thought you were all out of cash."

"Nah, I got a check from my dad today."

"Gonna blow it all on mochas?" Emily taunted.

"It's your fault if I do," Richard retorted.

"Richard was showing me around the school."

"Did he show you the concert hall?"

"Yes, it's wonderful! He also showed me the recording room," Allison said.

"Hey, I haven't even seen that yet!" Emily exclaimed.

Richard made a sheepish face. "I'll take you up there, don't worry. What are you working on?"

"Oh, looking over some chamber music. I can't play my horn today; I have a sore on my lip. Probably from that gross festival food."

"Tell me about it," Allison said.

"Do you want to get some dinner with us?" Emily asked her.

Allison glanced at her watch. "Oh. Well, I need to check on some things in the lab, but maybe after that?"

"Sure. Here," Emily said, ripping a corner off of some staff paper and writing her phone number on it. "Call us when you are done. Can we ride in your car?"

Allison laughed at the self invitation. "Of course."

"Good. We'll find somewhere to eat," Emily said.

"I better go then, so I don't get back too late."

"I'll walk you out," Richard offered.

As they exited the building, Allison thanked Richard for the tour.

"No problem."

"Your girlfriends are so nice."

"Yeah, they are," he agreed.

-------

Later that night, the four of them were walking back into the school building. The girls had convinced Allison she had to come back to the conservatory and hear Richard play some piano. She had wholeheartedly agreed. She also wanted to hear the girls perform, but Emily was not able to play. Sandra left the possibility open, but appeared to be shy about singing for everyone.

Allison wished she could spend the rest of her week with the three of them, even though that was not possible. Still, she was glad they were so open to spending time with her. At dinner, she had listened raptly to tales about their music teachers, including one Dr. Dobra.

Richard led them into a large room with a piano in it, and pulled some chairs around the bench. Emily invited Allison to sit on Richard's right, so she could see his hands working.

Richard stretched, and then laid his hands on the piano. For a long moment he didn't move.

"Hmm, what to play?" he mused.

"You had the whole ride home to think about it," Emily chided.

"All right, here's the Liszt I'm working on. It's kind of long, so stop me if you get bored."

And with that he started the dramatic octaves which opened the piece.

Allison's eyes were glued to his hands. They ran over the keys like dancers, stretching and running back and forth in a complex pas de deux. The sound they produced thundered through the small room, at times almost making Allison brace herself.

She glanced at Sandra, who caught her look and smiled back.

Richard was lost in the music, and soon Allison was too. This is how music is supposed to be played... 

She had never heard such a good pianist from so close. She had seen some famous pianists in concert, but that didn't compare with sitting a foot away with someone she now considered a friend.

Allison dared not move in case Richard interpreted it as a signal to stop playing. When he finished the piece, Allison realized her body was hyper-tense from the exertion of listening. She was speechless as Richard turned to her and smiled.

"There you go," he said simply, as if he had just played a major scale.

"That ... That was incredible! I mean, simply incredible!"

"Yes, really," Sandra agreed.

"Thanks."

"How do you keep all that in your head?" Allison asked.

Richard shrugged. "I don't know, I just hear the music and I know what to play after a while."

"Amazing. Why are you even in music school?"

"Oh, there's a lot to learn. I made a lot of mistakes," Richard admitted.

"I didn't hear them."

"They were there, nonetheless," Richard said, smiling. "There's some stuff which I can do better. There's other stuff I probably don't even know about, like I was telling you earlier at dinner."

Allison nodded, remembering the conversation about chord voicing.

Sandra stood up. "Richard, can you sight read some accompaniment for me?"

"Um, sure, I can try."

"I'll be right back." Sandra bounced out of the room.

"Oh, good. I'm glad she has decided to sing," Allison said.

"We haven't heard her either, really," Emily said. "Except when she practices in the room: sometimes I catch a bit before I go in."

"Do you stand outside the door, too?" Richard asked knowingly.

Emily nodded. "She has a beautiful voice."

A few minutes later, Sandra returned, carrying a book. The others looked at her expectantly as she opened to a page.

"Do you know this?" she asked Richard.

"No, doesn't sound familiar. I've never played any Charpentier. I don't know that I've even heard of him."

"Well, I don't know if you can sight read this, but just do what you can," she said to Richard.

"G major ... Shouldn't be too bad. Or not G major," he added, as he scanned down the page. "Let me just check it out for a minute," he said, glancing through the measures. He played a few spots here and there, finding the notes and fingerings. After trying out snippets from the first few pages, he turned to her. "It won't be perfect, but I'll give it a try. How fast?"

Sandra hummed the first phrase quietly. "Something like that."

"Okay. Glad it's not too fast..."

Sandra smiled. "I'm a little nervous," she admitted.

"Why?"

"I don't know. I love singing. I guess doing it for the first time in front of people I know is always a little difficult for me."

"Just get it over with then," Richard joked. "Ready?"

Sandra nodded, and then set herself. Her face took on a concentrated look. Richard began, playing the pair of two note phrases which served as introduction.

When Sandra's voice entered, it was otherworldly. She first echoed the two notes, and then continued along a languorous phrase.

Allison watched Sandra intently. She had her eyes closed, and she shaped each note with her lips, arching up to the high notes with ease. There was no strain in her timbre, only purity.

The music turned more active, and for the most part Richard managed to keep the accompaniment going. Occasionally he played a wrong chord or dropped out a hand, but it was still incredible to Allison that Richard and Sandra could make music together so quickly.

As the piece progressed, Richard seemed to lock into Sandra's performance, following her changes in phrasing and timing. It was almost a magical transformation, and by the climactic section of the aria, Sandra was looking at Richard as she sang. Allison shuddered in pleasure.

How she wished she could be in this environment! To make music with friends, or even lovers, day in and day out, exploring the subtleties of each other's feelings through musical performance...

Allison could see the love in Sandra's eyes as she sang for Richard.

When the piece wound down and finished in a final quiet phrase of repose, Allison again had no words. She had been taken far from the small basement room in which they sat, to a place where she could live forever. She knew the high of music, and she had forgotten it in the passing years. To be thrust back there now was overwhelming.

With watery eyes, she smiled up at Sandra. Allison stood and gave Sandra a hug, since words were not useful.

This had been a night Allison would never forget.



-------

Chapter 14: Duets



"I'm going to do some theory homework down in the lobby," Emily said to Sandra.

The two of them had just returned to their room after seeing Allison to her car. Richard was stopping at his room for a moment before coming up.

There was talk of getting together again with Allison, but she was flying back to Melbourne in a few days. In case it didn't work out, they had said their goodbyes. Allison had seemed sad to leave them, but she had to get up early to start some experiments.

"Homework?" Sandra asked, surprised. "Don't you want to ... you know? Hang out with Richard?"

Emily chuckled at Sandra's evasive language. She could see the look Sandra had. It had been there ever since she had sung with Richard in the practice room for Allison.

"No, go ahead. I need to finish this assignment for tomorrow."

Sandra frowned. "Well, maybe we should do some work too," she said, though her heart wasn't in the words.

"Sandra, it's all right. You and Richard played beautifully, by the way. It gave me chills."

"Thanks," Sandra said half-heartedly.

Emily watched her for a moment. "If you want to be with Richard tonight, it's okay. We can't always be all together every time."

Sandra thought for a long moment, and then laughed uneasily. "It's so weird."

"What?" Emily said with a frown.

"Normal people aren't upset at the chance to have their lover alone with them."

"You mean we're not normal?" Emily said sarcastically, but Sandra didn't laugh.

"I don't know what's normal anymore!" she suddenly said, voice emotional. "This has been the best time of my life. And yet everything is so ... so crazy, so different! I mean, I keep expecting to have chores to do, or hearing my parents nag me about something ... or Billy to show up and tell me we're going back to the farm and the same old beer runs and lake parking lot. But instead I'm in love with Richard, and with you, and with music, and ... and everything is so new, and I just can't get enough of it!"

Emily sat next to Sandra on her bed and put an arm around her shoulder, as Sandra let out a few tears.

"I'm sorry. It's been an overwhelming couple of weeks," Sandra said quietly.

"Hey, it's all right. It's all right."

"I feel so alive, and I almost can't handle it."

"I know exactly what you mean."

"You do?" Sandra said, looking at Emily with wet eyes.

"Yeah. We're right where we should be. It feels like ... like we've been given this chance to do what we love. Not many people have that. I mean, look at Allison. I think she secretly wants to be a musician."

Sandra nodded.

"But she's doing something else," Emily continued. "She probably thinks we're lucky. And maybe we are, I don't know. But it's amazing to be here. I grew up in a house where music led to the breakup of my parents. Music took my dad across the world. Well, maybe that was good, in the end, since we didn't get along, but although my parents came together through music, they also went apart by it."

"And yet here you are," Sandra said.

"And yet here I am," Emily echoed. "And it's different than I thought. When I got here I was so nervous."

"You were nervous? I didn't know you got nervous."

"Well, I don't show it much," Emily admitted. "But I thought everyone was going to be like some of the people I knew in youth orchestras. Like Jimmy Lemieux. Instead, people like you and Richard were here, too. And all we have to do is learn about music, and play music, and hang out with musicians, and yeah, sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky."

"Is it always going to be like this?"

"I don't know. I'm sure that, like anything, we'll have difficult moments."

"I don't want music to tear us apart."

Emily shrugged. "It sure didn't tear you and Richard apart tonight."

Sandra murmured. "Stay with us when he comes."

"No, tonight you should be with him. When you were singing and looking at him..." Emily trailed off.

"What?"

"It was beautiful."

There was a knock on the door.

"Coming!" Emily called out.

The two girls stood and hugged tightly for a long moment.

"Anyone home?" Richard asked playfully through the door.

The girls pulled apart and smiled at each other.

"Come find me later," Emily said as she pulled her backpack to her shoulder.

"We will," Sandra promised.

Emily opened the door and grinned at Richard.

"Where are you going?" he asked with a frown.

Emily pulled the door shut behind her, forcing him out into the hall. "I'm going to go work."

"Work? Why?"

"Because I have homework due."

"But..."

"And, Sandra is waiting for you."

Richard frowned again. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Finish what you started in the practice room."

Emily kissed him hard before he had a chance to respond. She didn't care that Joey, the Resident Director, came into the hallway at that moment. Apparently neither did Richard, since he returned the kiss as fervently as it was given. They let go of each other long after Joey had disappeared around the corner.

Emily slipped into the stairwell wordlessly. As she made her way to the lounge on the first floor, she felt good about her choice. When she had earlier decided to leave the two of them alone, she wondered why she had made that decision. She still wasn't quite sure, but she knew it was right.

After throwing her book bag onto the lounge couch, she settled into a deep cushion and fingered the remote. She hoped there would be something good on the television to keep her imagination in check.

-------

Richard stood for a few moments, trying to figure out through the haze of the kiss why Emily had gone off to work instead of hanging out. Before he had an opportunity to come up with a reason, the door to the room opened again. Sandra's face emerged from the darkness within.

"Hi," she said softly. "Are you coming in?"

"Yeah," Richard said, with one last glance at the stairwell. Joey rounded the corner at the far end of the long hallway, just as Sandra pulled Richard into the room. He was glad to avoid having to talk to him, especially after Joey had seen Emily and him kissing.

Sandra closed the door, and then wrapped herself around Richard. He returned the hug for a long time, closing his eyes and floating in the room.

"Is Emily all right?" he finally asked.

"Yeah. She wanted us to be alone tonight."

"Why? Is she ... having..." Richard fumbled for words.

"She said she needs to work."

"But... ?"

"I think she just wanted us to be alone."

"Is that okay?" Richard asked.

"I asked her to stay, but she insisted."

"Mm. I tried too, but she didn't really let me talk."

"Maybe she does have a lot of homework."

Richard shrugged and kissed Sandra gently.

"Thanks for playing with me earlier tonight," Sandra said.

"That was amazing," Richard said with feeling. "Your voice ... it's just exquisite. I kept wanting to stop playing just so I could listen to you."

"Thanks, Richard. That means a lot coming from you."

"I'm sorry I didn't do too well on the accompaniment."

"Oh no, you did fine," Sandra said. "Just fine."

The connection he had felt with Sandra in the practice room was returning. There was something about striking the notes together, hearing the piano blend in with and support her voice, that had been so satisfying. And the way she was looking at me while she sang. Her eyes had held such... 

"I love you," Sandra said.

Richard opened his mouth, but Sandra spoke again.

"And I love Emily. I love what we have. Thanks for being my friend, Richard."

For the second time that evening, Richard found himself being passionately kissed before he could speak. He had a feeling words weren't going to be very useful for a little while.

Sandra pressed herself so firmly against Richard that it felt like she was trying to get inside of him. Her tongue was so smooth and silky against his. Her hands ran desperately across his back, trying to find the grip that held them the closest.

With staggering steps they moved to the center of the room. What had been a suspended hug and quiet chat about the evening had suddenly turned into an urgent attempt to get naked.

Sandra ripped her shirt off, and then pulled at Richard's pants. When they were off, she retraced her hands up his chest and under his shirt so that he could take it off.

Bra and underwear went to the rug, as did Sandra's knees soon after. Richard wanted to scream as she swallowed him. Her lack of experience was unnoticeable as she lavished her attentive tongue on him. Overwhelmed by the moment, Richard felt dizzy. As the room spun and Sandra provided an ever varying oral assault, he fell back onto the bed.

Sandra never skipped a beat. Moaning softly, she dug her fingers into his flesh, trying to please Richard, her lover, like he never had been pleased. She wanted him to come a hundred times for her, to feel the elation she felt right now.

Richard prolonged the tension he was holding as long as he could, but the feelings Sandra were giving him were too much.

His breathing increased, and Sandra could feel the imminent explosion as his butt clenched. She increased her efforts, letting out a pleased moan as he coated the inside of her mouth. Nothing mattered right now except feeling Richard's pleasure blend with her own. She didn't care that she couldn't swallow it all, and that some of it escaped the warmth of her mouth. She didn't care that he had frozen stiff in hyper-stimulation as she continued to work him past the most sensitive part of his climax.

While he was still hard, she crawled up over his body, and lowered herself onto him. He still was pulsing heavily from his orgasm, and the way he was so taut and arched made him feel a mile long inside of her. She lowered herself to his root, and even past it, and filled herself with him.

Richard was about to have convulsions as Sandra started bucking on top of him. He was unusually sensitive after coming this night, and Sandra was keeping him right on the sharp edge of his climax. He twisted his head in pleasured agony, unable to control his voice for a moment.

Sandra surprised herself, even, at how quickly she reached her plateau. She smothered her body over Richard's, pressing her hard nipples against his, dragging them over his skin and feeling pricks of energy as they caught on the subtle edges of his chest muscles. Her hair was in disarray, some of it tickling his face, some of it caught up in strange waves.

She wondered how high she could go. Richard answered her thoughts by responding to her motions, having finally released the vice-like tension that had gripped him. He pulled her by the head towards him, locking her lips onto his. Sandra arched her back, trying on both ends to allow him fullest depth.

Richard rolled them both over with a powerful thrust of his body. Their kiss never ceased, and neither did the meeting of their thrusting hips. Sandra closed her eyes, seeing spots as Richard inched her towards the wall with each plunge into her.

Sandra lost track of time. All she felt was Richard. She thought of how they had played music together. How they could talk to easily, how they could make love so easily. It was ecstasy.

Richard finally finished within her. With a few stuttered strokes, he groaned and buried himself to the end. Sandra was lost by then, barely feeling him coming inside her. Her whole body was filled with him now, and even as his movements stopped and he collapsed onto her, she continued to reach higher heights.

"More," she whispered into his ear. She had said it jokingly, but didn't protest when Richard started moving slowly inside her again. She held onto him so tightly her arms hurt, but it didn't matter.

-------

Joey stopped whistling as he approached the room. One of the benefits of being director of the dorm is that he didn't need to have a reason to wander the halls. Dorm security was enough reason, if anyone really asked ... which no one ever did.

As he paused in front of the doorway, he checked behind him before leaning his ear close to the door. The unmistakable sounds of wild sex made him smile. If Emily had kissed me like that, I'd be banging her that hard too! he thought. He had been wondering for the last few days which girl Richard was seeing, if either. He'd had the good fortune of stumbling upon their kiss in the hall earlier, and then watching Richard get pulled into the room by her hand. And now, after several passages by the room, the story was complete.

Even though a small part of him was happy it was Emily and not Sandra, Joey knew there was no possibility of him getting together with the beautiful blonde singer. Regardless of her availability, the rules strictly prohibited that. No sexual relations with the residents, unless he wanted to get kicked out of his job, and the conservatory. Although a night with her might be worth that kind of punishment,  he thought, amused.

He listened a little while longer, checking the hallway and ready at an instant to resume walking, should anyone appear. The sounds of the bed moving and attempts at keeping their voices quiet made him excited.

He needed a girlfriend. Masturbation was getting old.

A sound in the stairwell caught his attention, and immediately he was walking away. He looked back and saw Jenna and Jer stumble into the hallway laughing loudly. Another couple of rabbits,  Joey thought. Looks like the boys of room 312 are getting lucky tonight.

Joey walked back to Emily's room after Jer and Jenna locked their laughter behind her door. Things had quieted.

Instead of risking them opening the door on him, he decided to head back to his room. Although masturbation was getting old, it would certainly do for tonight.

Joey made a last pass through the common room to grab a book he had left there. The lounge was almost empty, and dark. As he crossed hurriedly in front of the television with a chipper exclamation of "Sorry!" the channel switched to a bright scene, illuminating the room.

He almost choked on his diet coke when he saw Emily sprawled on the couch, toying with the remote.

Joey's mind went through a thousand images. But... ?

"Are you going to stand there all night, Joey?" Emily asked him.

Joey moved out of the way, but stared for a moment more. "Uh, anything good on?" he asked.

"No, just flipping channels."

Joey's mouth moved soundlessly for a moment, before he grabbed his book and headed up to his room.

The bastard! But Joey felt bad for Emily. Here she was, bored in front of the television while her boyfriend was up fucking her roommate. The lucky bastard!



Should I go tell her?

No, idiot, then it's obvious you are eavesdropping on people's rooms!

If that was Sandra, then she's even wilder than I thought!

Poor Emily ... Unless she...

The damn lucky bastard!



-------

Sandra didn't know such pleasure existed. She was prone on the bed, and Richard was slamming into her from behind. She was squeezing her legs and butt around him, and in the process squeezing her finger which she had on her button. She was long past orgasm, long past worrying about being sore. Both were reality, but she didn't want to stop. She just arched her back to let Richard in differently.

Sometimes when he got too broad with his movements he would slip out of her and slide up between her cheeks. Everything was slick and wet, and when he lingered there it sent shivers through her she hadn't felt before. Then he'd return to her depths.

He had asked several times if she was done. She was and she wasn't. She would simply wiggle her bottom against him, clenching on his length.

"I don't think I will come again," Richard said, "so it's all you, now."

"Just a little more. This feels so amazing."

And then he was back to it.

-------

Emily opened her eyes, startled at the lips on hers.

It was Richard. "Wake up, Em," he said with a warm smile, barely visible in the dark lighting.

"Shit, I guess I fell asleep on the couch." The television was off.

"Come up to the room."

"Are you all done? You look happy."

"Mm, I am. Anything good on TV tonight?"

"Not really."

Richard chuckled, and Emily realized her gaffe. He pulled her up and into his arms.

"It's late," Emily said, eyeing the clock.

"I let you sleep."

"Let me?"

"I came by earlier to get you and you were out cold," Richard said.

"How long did I sleep?"

"An hour, maybe."

"Why didn't you wake me up? It's late!"

"You looked so peaceful," he said gently.

"Hmm. Did you and Sandra have fun?"

"You should know."

"What?"

"You listened in earlier," Richard said simply.

"What? No, I didn't."

"You were standing outside the door a few times."

"Richard, that wasn't me," Emily said, her voice serious.

Richard pulled out of the hug. "I could tell someone was standing outside because they changed the light coming in under the door with their shadow."

"Well, it wasn't me," Emily repeated firmly.

Richard frowned. "We have an eavesdropper, then. Come on, let's go upstairs."

-------

Sandra thought she knew who it was.

"Jer! I bet he was coming up to try and see what we were doing, and instead listened in."

"Were you really loud?" Emily asked.

"Not really, but who knows?" Richard said.

"Let's see how loud it was," Sandra said. She stood and went to the door, and then looked expectantly at Richard and Emily.

"Wait, I'm done," Richard said, holding out his hands.

"Oh, just pretend." Sandra went out into the hallway.

"Pretend?" he echoed, but she was gone.

Emily laughed richly. "All right, let's pretend we're having sex."

Richard raised a brow.

"Come on, Sandra's running an experiment," Emily said. "Don't mess with it."

Richard got up slowly.

"How did you do it?" Emily asked.

"Um, several ways," Richard admitted.

"Were you on top?"

"At one point, yes."

Emily fell to Sandra's bed and opened her legs. "Climb on, boy."

Richard rolled his eyes as Sandra yelled from the hall. "What's taking so long?"

Richard nestled himself between Emily's legs.

"Oh, Richard! Yes!" Emily called out immediately, in mock bliss. "Can you hear that?" she said to the door.

"Move the bed," Sandra said.

Richard made some feeble movements.

"If that's what you call wild, then..."

Richard put in some more effort. Not surprisingly, he began to feel aroused as he rubbed himself against Emily. Emily let out a murmur, and Richard knew it wasn't for Sandra's benefit.

After a moment, Richard had the bed moving like it was with Sandra earlier.

"I'm locked out," Sandra called, knocking on the door.

"You'll have to wait, now. Sorry!" Emily replied, grinning at Richard.

"Hey!" Sandra said.

"Oh, yes!" Emily cried.

"Hey!!"

Richard stopped. He was sore and raw from the session with Sandra. He knew he would regret a round with Emily, and if he didn't stop now, he wasn't sure he would stop at all. Emily pouted as he got off of her.

As he opened the door for Sandra, he gave her a disapproving look, although it was mixed with a smile.

"So?"

"So these doors don't really hide much," Sandra said. "Oops."

"Yelling 'Move the bed!' all over the hallway probably didn't help either, though. Especially during quiet hours."

Sandra laughed.

"We'll just have to be quieter," Richard said, plopping down next to Emily.

"Should we try out some low volume experiments?" Emily asked, rolling over to straddle him.

"No, I'm serious. I'm done for the night. And it's after midnight."

Emily pouted again. "But I'm horny," she said softly. "I know, I know ... I should have thought of that earlier when I left."

"I can give you a massage," Richard offered.

"Ooh, that would be nice," Emily said happily.

"I can help," Sandra offered.

"Sure ... I wonder who the pervert is," Emily mused, as she removed her clothes.

"For wanting to help give a massage?" Richard asked, confused.

"No, our little eavesdropper."

"I still think it's Jer," Sandra said.

"Sooner or later someone is going to know that the three of us are together," Richard said.

"Yeah, I suppose so. There's not much we can do about that."

"Well, except for Allison, no one has really seen us."

Emily coughed. "Well, not exactly true."

"What do you mean?"

"Joey walked by when I gave Richard a kiss out in the hallway earlier."

"Oops," Sandra said.

"You know, who cares?" Richard said. "I'm happy. You two are happy. So someone figures it out; I don't really care. We're not breaking any laws."

The girls agreed.

"Now let's get to massaging," Richard said, motioning for Emily to lie on her bed. Sandra and Richard knelt beside her.

"Hope you don't mind that I'm nude," Emily said with a mischievous grin. "You'll just have to control yourself, Richard."

-------

Emily placed her horn on the bed and answered the phone.

"Hi, Emily. It's Allison."

"Hey, how are you? Are you still in town?"

"Yes, I'm leaving tomorrow at noon. I was just seeing if the three of you wanted to get together this evening for a bit before I go. I know you're probably too busy and if —"

"No, no, let's do it. Why don't you come down and we'll get some dinner a little later."

"When do you want me to come?"

"How about now? I'm done for the day. And Richard..." Emily glanced at the three-way schedule posted on Sandra's corkboard. "Richard's done in about an hour, and Sandra at five."

"That sounds great. I'll come down in a little bit, then."

"Just ring me up from the call box."

A half hour later, Allison was sitting in Emily's room.

"I hope I'm not interrupting your practice," Allison said.

"No, usually I have my lesson on Friday mornings, but I cancelled tomorrow's since my lip was hurting this week. I need to ease back into it."

"Is it better?"

"Yes, but I'm slightly out of shape since I didn't practice at all for a few days."

"What piece were you working on?" Allison asked.

"Oh, some orchestra excerpts. I'm missing rehearsal tonight, too. Luckily I had a few favors due from a friend and he's filling in for me."

"What are you playing in orchestra?" Allison asked.

"Well, the next concert is Beethoven Three and the Sibelius Violin Concerto."

"Nice! Who plays the concerto? Is it someone famous?"

"A student, actually," Emily said. "Every semester they audition the concerto slots for the next semester."

"Wow, that must be amazing, to get up there with the full orchestra!" Allison said, her voice dreamy.

"Yeah, I imagine so. I've never done it."

"Are you going to audition? I'll admit I don't even know if there are many horn concertos."

Emily laughed. "Well, not many, but they do exist, oddly enough. Mozart wrote some, Strauss, Saint-Saens, also, but there's not as many as there are for piano or violin, obviously."

"The three of you should play a piece together some day. I bet it would be amazing."

"Well, voice, horn and piano is a fairly unlikely combination."

"I suppose it is," Allison admitted.

"But I'm sure someone has written for it," Emily added.

"Can you play me something? I mean, since I have not heard you play yet."

Emily eyed her horn and then shrugged. "Sure."

She considered for a moment, and then played for Allison. She played differently in front of people than when she practiced, and was pleased at how some of her practice had made performance easier.

After a few minutes, she stopped.

"Beautiful!" Allison said, clapping lightly.

"Well, it's a sonata, so you had to imagine the piano part behind it."

"Who wrote it?"

"Hindemith. It's a neat piece, but a little hard to tell without the accompaniment."

"I know. Some of these modern pieces make more sense played fully. But it was still a nice melody on its own. Thank you."

Emily started packing up her horn. "No problem."

"The three of you are amazing musicians. Is this considered a good music school?" Allison asked.

Emily nodded. "Among the top few in the country. Juilliard, Curtis, Cleveland, Peabody, Wexford, Eastman, NEC, a few others too: those are the main ones people want to go to."

"Was it hard to get in?"

"Hard? I don't know. I guess so. It must be like what you did. You audition in front of some of the teachers, and then they let you know."

"Yeah, it was the same back home."

"I got into some of those other schools I mentioned, too, but came here because of the teacher. That's what matters most, anyway; not so much the school."

"But the name must help when you want to get a job."

"Perhaps. Most orchestra jobs you have to audition for, just like getting into the schools."

"It must be nerve-wracking," Allison said. "I was petrified for my audition. I still cringe when I think of it, and it was eight years ago! It's a wonder I got in. I thought I played terribly."

"They get easier as you go along, I think. It's a performance really."

"But so much hinges on it! A slight mistake, and..."

"True, but at some point you get to where you can be consistent about your playing, where mistakes aren't an issue. Then it's more about the music, not so much the technique."

"I never got there," Allison said with a chuckle.

"Oh, I'm not there either," Emily admitted, sharing the laugh. "Most of the time I'm practicing technique, it seems!" Emily closed up her horn case. "Richard should be getting out of piano seminar soon. Let's go find him before he gets into a practice room."

-------

After dinner, everyone was feeling a little tipsy. Emily had ordered wine, of course, and with Sandra deciding to skip German the next morning, no one really had anything to restrain themselves for.

As they walked back towards the dorms, Richard looked at his three friends as they laughed about something he had missed. He was somewhat amazed at his situation. He had never been comfortable around the opposite sex. Even in Italy, when he wasn't having sex with Tonia, their relationship was rather shallow and sometimes awkward for him.

He felt so comfortable with Emily and Sandra, though. They were natural friends and lovers. And Allison seemed to fit right in. He was sad that she was leaving the next day, since he had enjoyed her presence. She didn't seem to be judgmental about the three of them, but rather almost fascinated.

As the four of them turned to cross through the park towards the dorm building, Richard remembered the rainy night at the fountain. He wondered who had found Sandra's underwear hanging from the filigree.

"Let's go to the fountain," Richard offered. Maybe it's still there,  he thought.

As they entered the garden, all eyes went to the centerpiece. It was, of course, devoid of lingerie. Sandra, Emily and Richard exchanged looks, and then started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Allison asked.

"Oh, nothing," Sandra said.

"What is something I said?"

"No, something Sandra did," Emily said.

"Well, don't leave me out!" Allison cried.

"Last week..." Emily started.

"Em!" Sandra exclaimed.

" ... Sandra and Richard did something naughty."

"Which was... ?" Allison pressed, smiling expectantly.

"She left her underwear on the fountain," Emily said simply.

"Emily!"

Allison laughed. "Why would you do that?"

"They were already off," Richard offered.

Sandra looked at him wide-eyed. "Great, not you too! How embarrassing!"

"Oh, don't be embarrassed. I can tell you plenty of really embarrassing stories if you want," Allison said.

"Let's hear them, for sure," Emily said.

"I want to hear why Sandra left her knickers on the fountain, first."

"You'll have to ask them," Emily said, pointing to Richard and Sandra.

"Well..."

"Um..."

Emily rolled her eyes and sniggered, but otherwise kept quiet.

Richard threw caution to the wind. Allison was leaving the country in less than twenty-four hours, anyway.

"We were, well, you know, busy on the ledge here..."

"Having sex?" Allison blurted out. She was glad no one could see her face reddening.

"Yeah. Having sex. Exactly that. And we sort of fell into the water there," Richard said, pointing into the basin.

Sandra was laughing, half-covering her face with a hand.

"And, well, Sandra didn't feel it was necessary to replace her underwear."

Allison tried to hold back a laugh, but couldn't. "You three are crazy, you know that?"

"Have you ever had sex in public?" Emily asked her, as if the question was about having ever eaten an apple.

"Well, no, certainly not!" Allison said.

"And you wouldn't try it?"

"I ... I don't know. I've never even thought of it," she stammered.

"Come on, everyone's thought of it," Emily pressed.

"Well, I've never thought of really doing it. I don't think my boyfriend would go for it."

"Hmm," Richard mused, "I wonder about that."

"He's a conservative bloke."

Richard shrugged. "He might be persuaded. I think most guys could be."

"You would do it again?" Allison asked, before she considered the forwardness of her question.

"Sure," Richard said confidently.

Allison looked at Sandra, who shrugged and nodded slightly.

"Crazy!" Allison exclaimed.

Richard just laughed. Allison watched him. He gave her a challenging look. Allison wavered for a moment under his stare, and then let go of the last inhibitions she held.

"Would you do it right now if I left the area?" she asked.

Richard raised a brow. "What?"

"Have a go at it, right now. I dare you to."

"And you think we're crazy?" Richard said, exasperated.

"You said you'd do it again."

"Yeah, but..."

"Fine," Emily interjected.

"Fine what?" Richard said, chuckling.

"We'll do it, right here, right now."

Allison laughed as she backpedaled. "I was kidding, really; just teasing Richard."

"It seemed like a real dare to me," Emily countered.

Sandra watched her friends. She knew that deep down, all of them wanted to see it happen, but it was at the edge of their allowable boundaries. It was one thing for her and Richard to have a romp in a spur of the moment bout of lust, and quite another to consider taking deliberate requests to have sex.

But she knew Emily wanted to. There might not have been jealousy between them, but perhaps there was still some friendly competition, after all. Sandra recognized the look on her face, even in the faint lighting. And Richard could, as he had put it, 'be persuaded.'

"We'll wait over there," Sandra said, gesturing to the other side of the wall of bushes which enclosed the fountain garden.

"This is crazy!" Richard said, throwing his hands into the air.

"Oh, you have it so tough, Richard," Sandra chided as she went through the opening in the bushes.

Allison followed Sandra out of the garden. For a moment Richard looked at Emily, feeling completely awkward. To be thrust into this situation was unexpected. Still, he was having trouble keeping in check what was a growing arousal at the possibility.

"What are you waiting for?" Emily asked, unbuttoning her shorts. That was all the persuasion he needed.

-------

"I feel like such a prude!" Allison said to Sandra, as they went outside of the bushes and sat on a bench. Sandra idly kept watch for passers-by, more likely tonight than during her rainy tryst the week before.

"Prude? Why?"

"The three of you are so ... free with each other. I've never been with two other people before, or had sex outside, or any of the things you do. Or even talked about it, for that matter."

"We're kind of new at it too," Sandra admitted.

"It seems like you've been together for years."

"Weeks, only."

"What's it really like?" Allison asked.

"What?"

"When you get together. I don't mean to pry, and if you don't want to answer, I understand."

"Do you mean how do we have sex?"

"Yeah. Do you watch each other, or is it ... Oh, I can't believe I'm asking these things! Must be the wine talking!" Allison said, shaking her head.

"It's all right, I don't mind. We do watch each other, yes. It's actually very exciting, to watch Emily and Richard together."

"And you really don't feel jealous?"

"No, not at all."

"Do you ever, like, all have a go at the same time?"

Sandra thought for a moment. "We mostly take turns with Richard."

"So you and Emily, you don't..."

"No, not really, but we do ... touch each other, I guess. As part of the whole thing, you know."

Allison realized she was breathing heavily. "Do you think they are really doing it?" she asked, gesturing to the bush behind her.

"Probably. Let's go see."

"No!" Allison said urgently, staying Sandra with a hand on her arm.

"Why not?"

"I ... That wasn't part of the deal."

"What deal?" Sandra said, chuckling. "I didn't see you shaking hands with them!"

"I said I'd stay out here."

Sandra looked at her with a smile. "Come on, let's go see what they're doing."

Allison hesitated, but followed Sandra as she went back through the gap in the bushes. As they rounded the edge of the hedge, Allison could see that Richard and Emily had been serious after all. With her shorts wrapped around one ankle, Emily was straddling Richard on the far edge of the fountain. The sight was intoxicating, and Allison wanted to get closer, but she didn't dare.

"Don't fall in!" Sandra cried out after watching them for a short while.

"Shh!" Allison said, pulling on Sandra's arm and ducking around the corner of the bush again.

Sandra just laughed easily. "Do you want to watch some more?"

"No. Yes. I don't know. It..."

"Hmm?" Sandra said.

"It is exciting," Allison said quietly.

Sandra watched Allison closely. She seemed flushed, although it was hard to tell. Her breathing was loud and heavy, and her eyes were big and glimmering.

Sandra leaned in and placed her lips on Allison's instinctively. She kept the kiss chaste, but Allison returned the pressure, and made it linger. At the end, Sandra let her tongue find Allison's for a moment before pulling away.

For a long time, they looked in each other's eyes.

"I've never done that either," Allison whispered.

"Me neither," Sandra whispered back.

"It wasn't bad," Allison said.

"No, it wasn't."

Another kiss followed, this time slightly more aggressive. Allison pulled away suddenly.

"I ... I shouldn't. You're with Richard, and Emily, and ... and I have a boyfriend."

Sandra nodded. "I know. That was nice though."

"Yes," Allison agreed quietly.

Sandra poked her head around the bush. "Come on, they are done."

Richard and Emily were arranging their clothes as they approached. "Well, there you are. Dare taken," Richard said. He looked satisfied.

Allison laughed a little wildly, her mind suddenly reeling from the strange sensuality exploding within her. "I can't believe you actually did it. I was just joking..."

Richard shrugged.

Emily had her underwear in hand, and dunked it in the fountain basin. After gauging the throw, she tossed the panties at the column of the fountain, where they caught on a protrusion.

"Yes! Just like ring toss at the amusement park," she exclaimed.

"I wonder who found the last pair," Sandra mused.

The four of them stared at the black underwear hanging on the fountain. Then they all laughed and headed back to the dorm.

"You didn't take a swim like I did," Sandra said to Emily.

"No. I guess we know who has more balance and poise now."

"Ouch!" Richard said, laughing at the barb.

Emily wrapped an arm around Sandra and gave her an impish grin.

"You look tired," Sandra said to Allison, when they neared her car.

"Yeah, I am, a bit. Sorry."

"Don't let us keep you, since you have a long trip tomorrow."

"It's fine. I can usually sleep some on the plane. Do you mind if I come up to the room for a bit? I'm still feeling the wine a little. Not sure I should drive yet."

"Of course, you can even stay the night if you want," Emily offered. "I can sleep in Sandra's bed. Sandra can have the floor."

"Aren't you frisky tonight!" Sandra said to Emily.

"Fine, I'll let you sleep in your bed with me," Emily conceded.

"There's no need for that," Allison said. "I'll be fine in a little while."

"Well, do whatever you need to do. It's no problem with us," Sandra said.

-------

Joey was walking down the hallway when the stairwell door opened up ahead. He smiled at Sandra, who entered the hallway first, followed by Emily, Richard, and someone he didn't recognize. Cute girl,  he thought. They seemed to be quite happy. Emily had a wild look in her eye. Probably found some drink somewhere,  Joey thought.

"Hi, Joey!" Sandra said lightly.

"Evening," Joey answered, nodding to them. "Visitor for the night?" he asked. That's my duty, after all. Make sure everything is cool.

"Maybe," Emily said evasively.

"Well, you are aware of the rules, right?"

"Oh, I'm not really staying the night," the girl said.

Cute woman,  he corrected, as he examined her more closely. She was definitely in her mid twenties.

"Okay," Joey said. "Remember, overnight guests need to sign in with me. And it's getting late for that already."

Emily rolled her eyes as she unlocked the room door. As the four of them went into the girls' room, Joey walked on.

Damn lucky bastard!

-------

Allison woke up suddenly. Sandra had moved, or perhaps someone had coughed. Some remnant of a sense lingered in her head, but she couldn't pull it out through the haze of sleep.

A glance at the clock showed two-thirty. They had played Scrabble. Naughty Scrabble, really, and as promised, Emily had won easily. But it had still been fun. Then Sandra had put on some music while they talked, lying in the beds. And then talk had turned to introspection, and...

She debated whether to get up and leave quietly, or turn over and resume her dreams. She didn't think it would be an awkward morning, and she didn't think Joey would ever know she had ended up staying here.

In the dim glow from the security lights on the adjacent building, she could make out Richard and Emily cuddled on the other bed. She was spooned in front of him. A sheet was randomly covering part of their intertwined legs.

It was hard to believe she was sleeping with three strangers. Kids, actually, compared to her. She was eight years older. She would be a doctor in a year.

And yet here she was, and really comfortable. She didn't know what, if any, of this part of her trip she would tell her boyfriend back home. The music? The sleepover? The kiss?

With a sigh, she rolled over, pulling the sheet over her shoulder. Reality could wait a few more hours.

-------

The flight to Los Angeles was but a prelude to the long leg to Melbourne. With any luck, the plane would be relatively empty and she could stretch out on a center row.

As Allison watched the buildings of the city get small, she sighed. Not unhappily, but rather in response to the impending return of her world. She had, for a moment, lived a little of the life she might have chosen had that coin landed tails. Richard and Emily and Sandra had graciously allowed her to float in their river. She already missed their presence, and was sad she wouldn't be sharing any more of their journey.

She could see the arts district now, with the museum and concert hall framing the college campus where the Wexford Conservatory was situated. Somewhere down there, her friends were playing music. And I wish I was there too.

She was looking forward to getting home, though. She would be back in the arms of her lover, and relieve all the passions she had built up over the last week. She had many ideas, and she hoped he would be surprised and pleased.

And she would be looking into possibility of playing in a musical group. She realized how much she needed that in her life. The experience of hearing Richard and Sandra perform had revitalized her. Had she forgotten what it was like to play with someone else? It felt like they had made love, when they finished.

The city disappeared behind her now. She closed her window shade and pulled out her notebook. The sooner she finished her dissertation, the sooner she would have time to explore her other life.



-------

Chapter 15: Mit inniger Empfindung



Irina took a deep breath, wondering where to begin. It wasn't that he was doing something wrong, but rather that he wasn't progressing like he should. This was his fourth — no, fifth lesson now, and over the last few weeks he seemed to be less ... prepared. He had gained some expression in certain aspects of his playing, but technically he seemed underpracticed and a little sloppy.

She had checked with Eric in financial aid to see that Richard was not somehow being asked to work too much for his work study contract. She was pleased to find that he had switched to the audio recording job. She liked David, and Richard would gain much more musical benefit by recording concerts than by sitting at the front desk answering phones. She would need to speak with David, to make sure he didn't overuse Richard.

Irina had wanted Richard to be fully on scholarship, but the conservatory needed students to work the menial jobs. So unless a student's family could afford to pay, first-years were invariably put into the work study force. Next year, though, she would make sure Richard was not working.

Next year was far away, though. Right now, she needed to get Richard on track with his piano studies.

At a time when a student was still building a trust with her, Irina always found it a challenge to bring up the subject of a flagging work ethic. At the same time, though, he needed to know her expectations were not being met. He was taking longer to adjust to the conservatory than most students.

He is here to play the piano, first and foremost,  she thought.

Irina stopped Richard as he stumbled on a passage for the second time.

"Okay, let us stop for a minute," she said.

Richard sat still, with drawn face.

"How is your practicing going?" Irina asked him gently.

Richard shrugged. "I haven't been able to do as much as I want," he admitted.

"Are you having trouble in the classes?"

"Um, no ... I think I'm doing okay in them. It seems like I should be able to practice more, but things keep piling up. I think I just need to figure out my time better."

Irina nodded. "You have made some progress with what we talked about, but not enough, I think. The first semester is difficult, since many things are new. But you need to keep your eyes on the music, Richard. On the piano. Everything else comes second."

Richard nodded slowly. Irina stood and walked to the window.

"Do you want to be a pianist?" Irina asked him directly.

"Yes, I do."

"Then you must put yourself into it fully," she said simply. For a moment she stared out at the field where a pickup soccer game was in progress. "It is not an easy life. Even with talent, it is not easy. Now is an important time for you."

Irina walked over to him, looking him in the eye. "I can teach you many things, but in the end, everything must come from you. It must come from here," she said gently, tapping his chest. "You have talent there, Richard. But you cannot express it without knowing how to express it. The details make a great performance. Through the details, we can hear the interpretation. And technique makes the details perfect."

Richard nodded. "When I was practicing the fourth variation of the Beethoven I saw how there was technique that I didn't have. But I could hear the music in my head! I just couldn't play it the way I heard it."

"Yes, yes! That is why you must practice. You need to be able to play anything you want to play. Anything you hear in your head."

"Should I start doing more exercises?" he asked.

Irina smiled. "No. That is not music. Many pianists have slaved away at exercises for hours every day, and they can play almost anything, yes. But they do not play music. They play exercises. Some are famous," she said, raising a brow.

She could tell he wanted to know who she was thinking of, but she continued the subject instead.

"Many students of your age think that they must practice technique so that it becomes the focus of their playing. That is the path to lifeless music, Richard. You must practice technique so it becomes invisible, not the focus. In that way you can translate what is in here," she said, again tapping his heart, "to what is in there." Irina pointed to the piano. "Technique is only standing in the way of that."

"I think I understand," Richard said slowly.

"Good. Let us return to work."

-------

Sandra was late to Dr. Dobra's class by a few minutes, but surprisingly, he didn't even seem to notice her as she slipped across the back of the room and settled quietly into her chair next to Richard.

"Hey," she whispered.

"You're late!" Richard replied, keeping an eye on Dobra's back as he wrote up some chords.

"Piano class ran over," Sandra explained.

"Dr. Dobra didn't seem —"

"Richard, if you are finished talking, do sing the notes of the first chord I wrote. Low to high, if you please," Dr. Dobra said. He played a note on the piano. "First note."

"Re, Fa, Si," Richard sang. He wished he had a nice voice like Sandra, so his in-class performances didn't sound so much like a tired bullfrog. He just hoped that Dobra had been serious when he had said that voice quality didn't matter. Still, it sounded much better when Sandra sang things.

"And the chord is?" Dobra asked.

"B-flat major," Richard answered.

"Good. Next chord, please, Richard."

Dobra had Richard do the entire run of chords. It wasn't particularly difficult, but by the end Richard was feeling awkward at being the subject of Dobra's intense stare for so long. The punishment for talking, I suppose.

When at last Dobra moved onto the next concept for the day, Richard gave Sandra a relieved look.

Sorry! she wrote in the margin of her notebook.

Richard gave her a confused look.

I was the one who started talking. And I was late! she penned underneath.

Maybe Jenna WAS right. Richard wrote back.

Huh?

He has a soft spot for beautiful women.

Eew! But thank you... :)

-------

"Are you coming to dinner?" Emily asked. She had her horn in her hand, and had popped her head into Richard's room.

Richard looked at his watch. "Damn, it's five already?"

"Time flies..." she said. "Come on, let's get Sandra."

Richard sighed. "I think I'm going to skip dinner. I really need to finish this chord analysis for tomorrow."

"You need to eat," Emily chided.

"I'm not hungry. Besides, the food there isn't even food, really. What's the point?"

"Skip the concert tonight," Emily said.

"No, I want to hear you play."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'm not principle or anything. You won't even hear me."

"I still want to hear you play. And I told Sandra I'd go with her."

"I'd rather eat dinner with you," Emily persisted.

Richard thought for a moment, and then closed his book with a shrug. "All right, I'll work on this later."

Emily brightened. "I can help you out, if you want. And don't worry about the concert," she said as they headed downstairs to find Sandra.

"No, I am going. I'll finish that stupid analysis after the concert, I guess. I don't see what the point of these theory courses is, really. I mean, they're interesting, but I don't know how figuring out inversions and passing tones is helping me play better."

Emily shrugged. "They have to do something other than teach us lessons once a week."

Sandra was also working on a theory assignment when they got to her room.

"Dinner time!" Emily said.

"Aargh!" Sandra let out. "I can't, I need to finish this."

Richard laughed knowingly. "No, we're going to dinner, and that's final. Or so said Emily."

"Did you guys have this assigned in your class?" Sandra asked them, pointing to the passage she was working on. Richard took a look at the page.

"Yeah," Richard said. "Actually I was just working on it, too."

"So is this E minor with a passing tone C..."

" ... or C major with a leading tone B?" Richard finished. "Yeah, I don't know. I put C major."

"It's E minor," Emily chimed in.

"Why?"

Emily gave some reasons which made sense given the rest of the passage. Sandra nodded as she saw the logic. She penciled in the change, and then closed her book.

"You know what's funny?" she said.

"What?"

"The music is exactly the same, whether I've written those chords underneath it or not," she said. "It's the same whether I call it C major or E minor. It's just labeling. I'd sing it the same way. So why are we spending hours on this stuff?"

No one had an answer as they headed towards Tapler dining hall.

"Do you want to dress up a little tonight?" Sandra asked Richard.

"Dress up? For the orchestra concert?"

"No, for the cafeteria," she said sarcastically, as Emily sniggered. "Of course for the concert!"

"Well, I was going to change into unripped jeans," Richard said, eyeing the gash at his knee.

"Nice. But let's go a little bit fancier."

Richard shrugged. "I can put on a clean shirt?" he offered.

Sandra backhanded his chest playfully. "I was thinking more like a suit."

"A suit?"

"Yeah. You'd look hot."

"Yeah," Emily agreed.

"But, no one will be wearing a suit, I bet," Richard said. "I'll look a little out of place. Overdressed."

"If you look good, you can't be overdressed. Besides, it'll be fun!" Sandra said.

"All right, fine. I'll try and find my suit in the closet."

"Good," Sandra said simply.

"This is your idea," Richard reminded her.

"Don't worry, Richard, no one will be looking at you, with Sandra on your arm," Emily said. She winked at Sandra, who giggled.

"Um, thanks?" Richard said.

-------

At seven-twenty, Richard knocked on Sandra's door, in his suit. He did look decent in it after all, he decided.

"Wow!" was all he could say when she opened the door. Richard stepped back to admire her as she made a little pirouette in the doorway, smiling radiantly. She had a black evening dress on. Her hair was loose and flowing, and she had a touch of makeup on. The pretty necklace she wore pointed down to her modestly exposed cleavage. And her shoes were black, strappy, and very sexy, Richard thought.

"Wow," he repeated as he went into the room. Emily was right, no one will be looking at me! Sandra's dress was very alluring, yet elegant.

When Sandra kissed him, he considered skipping the concert, and not so he could work on theory homework. But then Sandra reminded him they were late.

As they walked from the dorm to the conservatory building, a few people cracked slight smiles as they passed. Richard felt like he was going to a prom. And with the prettiest girl in school, too.

When they got to the entrance to the concert hall, there was already a large group of people arranged somewhat roughly in a line, waiting to enter the hall. The concerts were free, and seating was first-come, first-serve to the public. Apparently the concerts were also very popular.

"This line is crazy!" Richard said. He noticed that no one was wearing a suit.

Sandra eyed the line. "Oh, wait, Gwen is working tonight. Maybe she can let us in."

They went over to Gwen, who was standing guard to the entrance of the hall along with another usher.

"Hi Sandra!" Gwen said brightly. "Wow, you look nice. Where are you off to?" Gwen eyed Richard with a smile.

"Off to? We're coming to watch the concert! This is Richard, by the way. Richard, Gwen."

Richard and Gwen shook hands. "Nice to meet you," Gwen said.

"Gwen is also a singer," Sandra explained to Richard. "Hey, can you get us in?" Sandra asked her quietly.

Gwen looked at her watch, and then shrugged. "Um, sure. Come on. Rob, I'll be right back," she said to the other usher, who nodded nonchalantly.

Gwen took them around the hallway and in through a side door into the hall. Richard laughed at the sign on it, asking concert-goers to please enter by the main entrance.

"Programs?" Gwen offered, holding out two of the thin folded paper booklets. She flashed them a smile before heading back to open the main doors.

"The benefit of connections," Sandra said as they found some seats near the front, and right in the center. A smattering of musicians were warming up on the stage. An oboist was fussing with her reeds, and a few violinists were playing or tuning. Jer was rosining his bow. He spotted them and waved, grinning broadly.

Richard waved back casually, wondering what Jer thought of his attire. Then again, Jer was in a tuxedo. Being overdressed was really just a matter of circumstance and location, Richard decided.

A few minutes after settling into their seats and browsing the program (including a grin at seeing Emily's name printed in the horn section), the main doors opened and people began to file in, filling the space with crowd noise.

"There's Emily," Sandra said, pointing to the stage.

Dressed in concert black, Emily made her way through the brass section and to her seat. Somehow she managed to spot Sandra and Richard in the thickening audience, and gave a little smile and a small kiss. Richard and Sandra waved back.

After what seemed forever, the concert began. The overture that was performed first was enjoyable, but what really blew Richard away was the violin concerto. The violinist was amazing. At one point during the second movement, Richard had his eyes closed, and he recalled his discussion with Mrs. Tertychnaya about technique. This violinist had transparent technique. He shaped the melody perfectly, in duration, expression, volume, and phrasing. It was as if Richard could hear him singing the melody from his heart.

There was a certain quality about his playing, as if he was on the edge of recklessly losing control of the piece. But Richard realized it wasn't due to barely adequate technique. Rather it was the violinist's interpretation, and it sounded passionate and urgent. And to do that, he needed to have the utmost control of that recklessness.

The last notes of the finale were immediately greeted by a thousand people roaring and rising to their feet. A few in the front, presumably family members, threw a couple of bouquets to the beaming young man.

Richard hoped he could be up there in a few years.

-------

Richard left his jacket over their chairs for intermission, and Sandra and he strolled outside for some air; the hall had gotten stuffy.

"Do you ever want to do that?" Richard asked her.

"Sing with the orchestra? Well, yeah!" Sandra exclaimed.

"Me too. I've never done it. I learned one concerto last year, but I never had an orchestra to play it with."

"Same here. I've learned lots of opera arias, but so far I've only been able to do them with piano."

"It must be so powerful to play with a hundred other people behind you," Richard said.

"Yeah. But it's also powerful to play with one other person too." Sandra smiled at Richard.

"Mm hmm," Richard agreed. "You look really fabulous."

"Thanks."

"People are checking us out," Richard whispered.

Sandra looked around coyly. "No!"

"Yeah, that couple over there was watching us."

"I so want to kiss you right now," Sandra said breathily.

"Why don't you?"

"Because! People are all around. Then they'll know."

"So?" Richard asked.

"What about Emily?"

Richard silenced her with a kiss.

"Mm. Okay, now that that's out of the way," Sandra said. She kissed him again, a little harder and longer.

"Not so bad, huh?" Richard said.

"No. What are you doing after the concert?"

"Practicing, and finishing my homework," Richard lamented.

"Oh, that's too bad," Sandra said mysteriously.

"Why?"

"I have secrets!"

"What secrets?"

"Sexy secrets," she whispered.

"What are they?" Richard said, his voice getting a little more animated.

"Not telling," Sandra teased.

"You can't do that!" Richard exclaimed.

"Can't do what?"

"Say you have secrets, and then not tell me."

"I just did."

"Do I have to torture it out of you?"

"I don't know ... What do you have in mind?" Sandra said wickedly.

"You are terrible," Richard said, shaking his head. "I can't take you anywhere!"

Sandra pouted, which made Richard laugh.

As they headed back to their seats, Richard couldn't avoid noticing the looks they got. They were definitely dressed a cut above the crowd, although now Richard was happy that they were. He felt on top of the world next to Sandra. Even if she did hold secrets.

"When are you going to tell me?" he whispered as the lights dimmed for the second half of the program.

Sandra shrugged. "I might not tell you at all."

Richard let out a groan. "Great, now I won't be able to concentrate on the concert."

"Why not?" Sandra asked, though she knew full well why.

"I'm going to be wondering what the secret is," Richard admitted.

"Well, if I did tell you, you wouldn't be able to concentrate on the concert either."

"I don't know about that."

"I do."

"Try me," Richard challenged.

Sandra gave Richard an impish grin, but said nothing as the audience began to clap for the conductor's entrance. She was preparing to start the symphony when Sandra leaned over to Richard's ear.

"I'm not wearing any panties."

Richard pulled back and gave her a wide-eyed look.

"What? You're —"

"Shh!" she shushed, just as the symphony started with its two loud chords. Richard watched a grin spread across her lips, even though she tried valiantly to contain it. When she looked at Richard, who was still staring at her, she pointed to the stage again and mouthed "Concentrate!"

-------

It took Richard a good part of the first movement to get into the concert again. He couldn't help glancing at Sandra, eyeing her smooth legs, and knowing that she was wearing but one piece of clothing. Even when he wasn't looking at her, his imagination took over quite nicely.

The symphony was very familiar to Richard, and soon it enveloped him with its ebullient melodies. His father, while being unschooled in music (and some who judged on outward impressions would even call him uncultured) would often take Richard to Lincoln Center in the city to watch concerts. Richard had seen his first opera at the Met, Rigoletto, at the age of eight. His father was a huge fan of Verdi. Since then, Richard guessed he had seen perhaps three hundred concerts and operas live. It was an amazing number, considering how much tickets cost, and how tight money was in the Mazzini household.

That first opera had been such a highlight for him. He had never stayed out so late, and that night he was going to be up past midnight, and in the city no less! As they approached Lincoln Center from the subway station, the opera house looked amazing at night, its gigantically tall arching front windows illuminated in golden and ruddy light. Vittorio let Richard hand the usher their tickets and hold the programs they got in exchange. They went up the central staircase, and even at his age, Richard knew he was an odd sight. The average age was probably over fifty, and Richard saw no one as young as himself.

After looking over the vast lobby from the upper landing, they walked the rest of the way up through the curving staircase on the side. At last they reached the family circle, the highest seating in the house. It was at a dizzying elevation above the stage. The golden curtain rose almost to their level. At the time, Richard thought they were in the best seats, since they were so high up!

After Richard and his father had settled into their velvety red chairs, Richard read over the playbill, fascinated with the list of names of those in the orchestra, and the slate of singers. He asked his father what those desks were along the sides of the balcony. People sat there with little lights illuminating their books. Were they really reading during the performance? But his father explained that they were following the music score. When Richard asked why they wouldn't watch the stage instead, Vittorio shrugged. Perhaps they were students of music, he offered. Richard was fascinated by the idea.

To say that Richard was riveted to the opera would be an understatement. He never touched the back of his chair during the first two acts. Even at his distance from the stage, the music and singing was unbelievably powerful to this eight year old boy.

Alas, after the second intermission, Richard was getting tired. At some point during the third act, he fell asleep. Vittorio didn't nudge him until right before the ending, when Rigoletto was delivered the body. Richard woke up to lightning and saw the misshapen father gleeful at the death of the hated count. Richard still remembered the chill of sadness that ran through his own spine as Rigoletto opened the body bag, and discovered the truth. Such tragedy filled his voice... !

Over the years, things went from Richard being the one falling asleep late into the operas, to him watching his father being the one who dozed off. Age was catching up with Vittorio. The last few years of high school, Richard usually sat at the score desks, more interested at that point in following the details of the music than watching the scenery and the acting. His father always came with him, sitting in the chair next to the desk. Often he would have his arms folded across his chest, eyes closed. Richard never knew if he was sleeping or listening, but he made sure to nudge his father when the best moments approached.

Richard didn't know where he had gotten his musical talent from, but he often wondered if his father would have been a musician given the opportunity. His mother, while enjoying music casually, was not obsessed with it like her husband and son were. She went to perhaps one concert each season with them.

Vittorio always had music on in the house, and when he went to work, he would bring a portable stereo and a stack of opera and symphonic cassette tapes. As he painted, he would occasionally pause and close his eyes, immersed in the music.

A few times Vittorio had asked Richard to teach him some piano. And Richard tried, but there was never time for Vittorio to take it seriously. His hands were cramped from long days of gripping the tools of his trade. His mind was on his business, calculating estimates, or supply needs for the next job. Notes learned in one lesson were forgotten by the next, and eventually he would give up. "When I retire," he would say, waving his arms grandly, "I will play the piano. Maybe then I can concentrate on it."

Richard now knew that his father lived vicariously through him.

Over the years, he had seen Beethoven's Eroica symphony three times. It was, along with the Ninth, his favorite Beethoven symphony. Seeing it now in this situation, with Sandra at his side, was exciting.

The second movement was always the highlight for Richard. When it began, he suddenly found himself missing his father's presence. He realized he hadn't called him in over a week, now having left several messages unanswered. Fiercely proud and often overbearing, his father was difficult for him to talk to. Often after concerts, as they took the subway back home, his father would want to discuss the performance. As Richard grew older and more skilled in music, he found himself resisting the discourse, unwilling, or perhaps unable to share in simple words the intense emotions that the music generated. He couldn't open up to his father like that. And to talk of the technical was pointless, since his father still couldn't even find a C on the piano. So the conversation was muted, and distant, like an offstage solo.

Richard still didn't know why that was so. That reluctance spilled over into their general conversation, and now over the phone too. He hadn't told his father about his two friends, or much detail about his classes or lessons. In reality, he mostly answered questions with short, vague answers. Guilt crept into Richard a little as he fought to justify himself in the presence of reminiscence.

He suddenly felt such nostalgia for those nights in the city! While Vittorio was unschooled in music, he could appreciate and be moved by it to a tremendous extent. Many times Richard had glanced over at his father's visage after a poignant musical passage, and found his cheeks damp with tears, shining slightly in the reflection of the distant stage lights. It always made Richard feel tight in the chest as well.

-------

Sandra looked at Richard, not surprised to see a tear roll down his cheek. She was feeling emotional from the music as well. He didn't even seem to notice the droplet as it crept towards his jaw line. Sandra reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Richard returned the pressure. For the rest of the concert, their hands remained tightly intertwined.

-------

After the concert was finished, Sandra and Richard sat in their seats, spent, as people filed out of the hall to either side of them.

Richard smiled at Sandra. "The orchestra is really good," he said.

Sandra nodded in agreement. "Yeah. I guess everyone's just a few years away from being in a real orchestra, so it makes sense."

"Yeah, true. God, that second movement is killer," Richard said.

"Sad, and so beautiful."

Eventually the hall had mostly cleared, and Emily spotted them from the stage. She walked to the front edge, and waved. Richard seemed to snap himself out of his deep mood.

"Sounded great, Em!" he called out.

Emily made a cute little face. "Let me pack up my horn, and I'll come back out," she said. She headed off to the wing.

"I'm drained," Sandra said.

"Yeah, I know the feeling. I don't know about practicing tonight, even though I should."

"How was your lesson this morning?" Sandra asked.

Richard shrugged. "It was all right. I wasn't as prepared as I should have been."

"I'm sure you were okay."

"No, I ... She kind of said I ... needed to work harder."

Sandra frowned. "Practice more?"

"I guess. Or practice better. I've been thinking about it, and I think I've not really been practicing."

"What do you mean?" Sandra frowned.

"I've just been playing, trying to be more expressive."

"Isn't that good?" Sandra asked.

"No. I wasn't working on the technique, really. Instead of practicing, I was just ... playing. It's hard to explain."

"No, I understand," Sandra said slowly. "Sometimes when I'm singing, I'm trying to force the feelings through my singing, even though I'm not singing the part like I should, if I wanted to really show that feeling." She paused. "Okay, maybe it is hard to explain!"

"I'm probably just over-thinking it," Richard said. "I wonder if Pollini or Horowitz ever had to think of these things. Probably not. They just played."

"I don't know, Richard. But there's no substitute for hard work. My dad always proved that. Maybe you need to spend some more time at the piano and figure this out."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"Here, look: after we say hi to Emily, you can go practice. You still have almost two hours until closing." Sandra pointed at her watch.

"But I just want to go hang out with you two. Chill in the room, or something."

"Richard, you need to practice. You just said so yourself. I don't want to distract you from that."

Richard laughed. "You're distracting just being here. Even if you're not with me, I'm still thinking of you!"

"That's sweet, but I don't want you to get behind because of Emily and me."

"I know. I wouldn't want to do that to you, either," he said glumly.

Emily came down off the stage, and Richard and Sandra gave her each a nice hug.

"What's the plan?" Emily asked, as they headed for the exit.

"Richard's got work to do," Sandra said.

"Oh, okay," Emily seemed disappointed.

"I could practice tomorrow morning," Richard said.

Sandra raised a brow at him.

Richard looked at her, and then at Emily. Everything about them was just so wonderful. He wanted to go back to the room and spend the night with them, talking, laughing, making love. They were so tempting!

But Sandra was right. Now was the time to practice. And for that, he also appreciated her.

"All right, fine, I'll put in a couple of hours," Richard said, making no effort to hide the disappointment in his voice.

"Don't worry, we'll wait up for you," Sandra said. "Emily and I will hang out for a bit."

"Will you keep the dress on?" Richard asked, voice hopeful.

Sandra grinned. "Sure. I won't change anything about my dress."

Richard gave them each a quick kiss. "I'll see you later. Great concert, Em. Really."

"Thanks."

Sandra and Emily watched as Richard slipped off towards the practice rooms.

"What was that all about?" Emily asked.

"Richard had a bad lesson," Sandra said, still watching the door through which Richard disappeared.

Emily nodded thoughtfully.

-------

Richard was glad the large piano room was available. He didn't feel like being cramped in one of the smaller rooms, and he needed a satisfying piano to have any chance of taking his mind off of the girls. Not to mention the lack of underwear.

Richard put his head in his hands, and his elbows played a dissonant chord as he leaned on the keys. Over the last few weeks since Allison had left, Richard had felt really happy. Somehow her presence had made him and the two girls really gel together. Perhaps it was Allison's appreciation of their art, or her acceptance of their unusual relationship, but whatever the reason, Richard was now deeply in love with his two friends.

The morning's lesson had been a rude wake up call, though. All the progress he thought he had been making, in extracting the feeling from the music, was for naught. Clearly I haven't been working hard enough these last weeks,  he thought. Admittedly, he had had second thoughts in the back of his mind about how much he was practicing, but he always pushed them away. He thought he was making progress.

Now he needed to start all over. He wasn't even really sure where to start. He had fooled himself into thinking he could just sit at the piano and play through his pieces, and that would make him a great pianist. There's so much more to it.

The more he thought about it, the more he felt depressed about his lesson. He wondered how many other students of Irina's got this talk from her. Probably none, because they are all in the practice rooms eight or ten hours a day. Maybe I don't have it in me,  Richard thought.

Richard still had his elbows on the keys long after the strings had stopped vibrating.

-------

"What did Richard say? He seemed all right earlier," Emily said.

"Oh, he said his teacher wasn't really happy with him," Sandra replied. She was sitting primly on the bed, her hands under her legs.

"Hmm. In what way?"

"Not practicing enough."

"What did he think?"

"He thought so too," Sandra said, with a nod.

Emily was silent for a few moments. "Do you think we're distracting him?"

Sandra let out a small laugh. "Well, sure. But some distraction is okay."

"Until it starts messing up his music."

"Yeah."

"How has your practice been going?"

"Great, really. My teacher is amazing. I have so much to learn," Sandra said, her voice more animated.

"That's cool."

"How about you?"

"Yeah, I'm okay too, though I didn't have any crazy stuff for this orchestra concert. It's been a moderate load the last few weeks."

Sandra nodded. "Maybe Richard's job is taking too much of his time."

"He says he's only been doing some training things during the day. And he had to observe a few concert recordings last week. Doesn't seem like that should be a big problem."

"Still, it's more than we're doing," Sandra said. "I've just had that one night of ushering for the faculty recital, and a few meetings. Richard's doing way more."

"He says he needs the money." Emily laughed. "He still wants to pay us back for everything from earlier in the semester."

Sandra sighed. "I'd rather him work less and play more, and forget about paying us."

"Me too," Emily mused.

"Well, let's see how he feels after practicing tonight. Some time at the keyboard could do wonders for him."

Emily nodded and gathered up her clothes. "I hope so. I'm going to go shower."

-------

Emily came back in some shorts and a t-shirt. It looked quite funny next to Sandra's elegant dress, but she was going to stay in it for Richard's sake.

"Richard really likes that dress, huh?" Emily asked, as she dried her hair a bit more with the towel.

"Yeah. He liked it even more when I told him it was the only thing I was wearing."

Emily peeked out from under the towel. "You mean, like, no underwear?"

"Mm hmm."

"You are such a tease!"

Sandra shrugged innocently.

"You know, you surprise me," Emily continued.

"Why?"

"I don't know. You do some unexpectedly ... risky things."

"I don't seem exciting, usually?"

"No, it's not that. But I'll admit, the first day here, I had you pegged as straight-laced. Pretty, but also cautious and shy about anything out of the ordinary."

Sandra laughed. "You had me pegged right, then!"

"Obviously not," Emily disagreed. "Since then you've done all kinds of things I would never have guessed you to do," Emily said.

"Like?"

"Do you really need a list?"

"Sure," Sandra said, her eyes flashing.

"Well, you had sex at the fountain with Richard, for one. You left your underwear on the fountain. You left your underwear off tonight. Um ... you are in a threesome. Need more?"

"I've done all that? When you say it, it sounds so naughty!" Sandra giggled.

"So you're surprised too!"

"Yeah," Sandra admitted. "But it's so ... liberating. I've never even dreamed of doing those things. But when they happen, they feel so, so nice. So right."

Emily nodded. Sandra stood and turned off the room lights in favor of the corner lamp. She leaned over the desk, looking out the window.

"Can I tell you something?" Sandra said.

"What?"

"Promise you won't be mad?"

"Promise. Okay, what is it?"

"Something about Allison."

"Go for it."

Sandra didn't turn from the window. "I kissed her."

Emily didn't respond for a second. "What? When?"

"When you and Richard were doing it at the fountain."

"You kissed her, like really kissed her?"

"Yeah."

"Wow."

Sandra turned and looked at Emily. She was sitting on the bed, looking up at Sandra.

"Are you mad?"

"No, no. That's another thing to add to that list, though!" Emily said with a slight laugh.

"It just kind of happened. I don't know how or why."

"I didn't know you were..." Emily trailed off.

" ... into that kind of thing?" Sandra finished.

Emily nodded. There was an awkward pause as the girls looked at each other, and then to the floor.

"Does Richard know?" Emily asked.

"No," Sandra said. "It's been on my mind, but I haven't said anything yet."

"Are you going to tell him?" Emily asked.

"I should."

"I'm sure he'd understand. He liked Allison, too. I could see the connection between them."

"But he didn't actually do anything with her. Neither did you. Oh, I'm so stupid!" Sandra said emotionally, turning back to the window.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Emily said, concerned. She stood and put an arm around Sandra.

"Oh, I messed everything up," Sandra moaned.

"Messed everything up? What are you talking about? How? By kissing Allison?"

"Now you think I'm probably weird. I have this ... list of crazy things I've done, and I'm out kissing strangers behind you and Richard's backs, and..."

"Sandra, whoa, whoa!" Emily turned Sandra to face her, but Sandra kept talking through Emily's interjection.

" ... and when I tell Richard, he's going to be mad, or not want to do this anymore. I mean who knows! I should have told him right after it happened. No, I shouldn't have kissed her. And I don't know what you think, since we both are with him, and —"

Emily silenced her with her lips. For a moment, Sandra was hard like a rock. Emily pressed the kiss more firmly, trying to melt through her resistance. She now knew it could be broken. Allison had managed somehow.

Ever so slowly, Emily felt Sandra soften into the kiss. It was almost a battle, except both of them already knew what the outcome would be.

Sandra was trembling now, breathing raggedly. Her hands found their way around Emily's back, and she finally relaxed fully with a deep, shuddering breath. The penetrating kiss lingered, and then Sandra put her head to Emily's shoulder. They embraced a long time.

Sandra's eyes were wet when they pulled apart.

"Why am I so messed up?" she asked softly.

"You're not messed up."

"I feel like it. I've never cried so much as I have this last month."

"It's all right."

Sandra laughed sadly. "I'm just in over my head."

"We all are," Emily agreed. "But it's good."

Sandra nodded. "Yeah, it is, but..."

"Don't be afraid of me," Emily said softly.

"I am."

"Why?"

"Because you are so strong, so confident," Sandra said.

"So are you," Emily said.

"No, I pretend to be," Sandra corrected. "In the moment I try to be, and then later I'm a mess. Look at me now." Sandra sniffed and wiped at her eyes.

Emily smiled. "I've gone through a lot of things, so I don't show my feelings as much. But that doesn't mean I don't have them still."

Sandra looked at Emily for a while, and then nodded. "Have you wanted ... to kiss me?"

Emily nodded. "I have."

"Why didn't you?"

"I didn't know how you would feel. I wasn't sure if you wanted to keep things like they've been."

"You mean with Richard?" Sandra asked.

"Yeah."

"No, I don't want to keep things that way. I want us all to be open with each other. I've wanted that, too. But ... we should tell Richard first. It's only fair. I already feel bad about keeping the kiss with Allison from him. I don't want him to lose trust in us."

Emily nodded. "I wonder what he'll think about us kissing."

Sandra let out a little laugh. "Oh, I'm sure he'll be really upset!"

Emily chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Guys never like that kind of stuff, right?"

Sandra smiled, and gave Emily a gentle kiss.

As Sandra put on some music, Emily laid down on her bed, and then Sandra sat on the edge.

"In high school, I fooled around with a few girl friends," Emily said after a long silence.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I was done with guys. So were a couple of other girls. After some wine — well, more than some — me and this girl Sheri somehow ... started kissing, I don't know. We were talking about kissing guys, and how they sucked at it, and how we needed to find better kissers."

"That's only a few drunken steps from kissing each other," Sandra said.

"Heh, heh, exactly. And, you know, we liked it."

"Did you ever do anything more?" Sandra asked.

Emily looked at her, and then nodded.

"Everything?"

Emily nodded again.

"You're pretty surprising too, you know?" Sandra said.

"I guess."

"I can't wait for Richard to get here." She squeezed Emily's hand.

"Me neither. I miss him."

"Me too."

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. Sandra frowned at the clock; it was still eleven thirty, a half hour until closing time. She shrugged at Emily, and then hopped up to get the door. Sandra peered through the peephole, and grinned when she saw Richard standing in the hall, still in his suit.

"He's here!" she said quietly but excitedly to Emily.

Sandra opened the door with a grin. "Hi!"

"Hey," he said.

"I'm still in the dress!" Sandra said, turning around for him. Then she lifted her hem and flashed him her bare butt.

Richard gave a little smile, and Sandra furrowed her brow.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, just really tired."

"Well, come in. Emily and I have been waiting," Sandra said gently and invitingly.

"Um, I think I should really go to bed."

Emily appeared at Sandra's shoulder.

"Are you sure?" Sandra asked. "You can lie in my bed, and rest. We'll give you a massage!"

"Thanks, but I think I just need to sleep."

"Okay, okay, if that's what you need right now," Sandra said softly.

"Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow."

Richard leaned in and gave them each a quick kiss.

"Should we get breakfast?" Sandra called out, as he headed towards the stairs.

Richard turned and nodded. "Sure, I'll come find you when I wake up. Bye."

With that, he disappeared through the door.

Sandra and Emily stood for a long minute in the hallway, watching the stairwell door. Both of them expected him to come back through, having pulled a joke on them.

He didn't.

Sandra closed the door behind her, and leaned against it.

"Should we go knock on his door?" she asked.

"I don't know. He looked exhausted."

"Yeah, he did," Sandra agreed. "Have we done something wrong?"

Emily shrugged. "Maybe his practice didn't go well."

"That must be it. But why wouldn't he want to be with us?"

"I don't know, Sandra. I don't know."

Sandra let out a sigh. "Do you love him?"

Emily nodded without hesitation.

Sandra also nodded. "We need to help him through this, then."

Emily pulled Sandra into a hug, feeling a tightness in her chest.

"I love you, too," she said.

Sandra responded with a deep breath. "Me too, Em."

For the third time that night, Sandra found herself crying.



-------

Chapter 16: Langsam



Richard had a dull headache. It was the last thing he needed today. He was late to his meeting with Dave, having fallen asleep after turning off his alarm. Five minutes ago, he was supposed to take his last training test. If he passed, he would be ready to record student recitals on his own.

As he ran down the stairs, buttoning his shirt, he paused on the second floor landing. I did say I'd come find them for breakfast,  he thought. He really didn't have time, though, so he continued down the stairs.

Dave was just rounding the corner as he approached the recording control room.

"Hey, Richard," he said cheerily.

"Morning, Dave."

"I'm running a little late," Dave said.

"Yeah, me too."

"Good, I don't feel as bad, then!"

The pair went into the control room, and Richard was surprised to see someone in the concert hall at this hour. It was one of the guys who worked in the recording service along with Richard.

"Jake is going help us out with your training by giving a pretend recital," Dave explained.

"Cool."

"All right. Go ahead and do the setup, and then I'll tell Jake to start his concert." Dave handed Richard two DAT tapes and a cassette, and then sat in the chair by the mixer and observed Richard.

Richard took a deep breath, and then began the procedure for setting up the recording. He labeled and exercised the tapes, and then brought up the levels appropriate for a solo violin and the type of microphones that were hanging in the hall. After laying down a reference tone, he set the DAT tapes and the cassette to record-ready.

He made the appropriate level notations on the mock program, and then looked at Dave expectantly. Dave nodded, sticking out his lower lip.

"Good job. Let me tell Jake to start." Dave went out of the room, and then Richard heard him call to Jake from the back of the hall. As Jake walked off the stage, Richard double checked everything again. Since there wasn't any indication of when Jake would walk on, Richard started the tapes. Better safe than sorry,  he thought.

Dave returned just as Jake came out onto the stage. Richard laughed as Jake made fake crowd noise and held his violin and bow out over his head triumphantly. Dave rolled his eyes; Jake was a known clown in the recording service.

Everything went smoothly. Jake played two items on the first half of his imaginary recital: piece one was Mary Had a Little Lamb, complete with double and triple-stop variations. The second selection was a brief rendition of Purple Haze. Richard could tell Dave was trying hard not to burst out laughing.

For his part, Richard stayed focused on the task. He kept track of the timings, inserted track markers, and watched the levels.

After the Hendrix piece ended, Jake made some more crowd noise as he walked off stage for intermission. Richard paused the tapes and now Dave did laugh.

"Heh, heh. You never know what he will pull on you," Dave said. "Looks pretty good, Richard. Remember, though, to notate some peaks. It makes it easier to set levels if we need to make more cassettes for the performer later."

"Oh, right, sorry. I forgot about that."

"No big deal."

Jake returned to the stage for the second half. Richard started the tapes hurriedly as he approached the center. He looked questioningly at Dave.

"Usually you'll have the stage manager dimming the lights before the start, and after intermission. That's a good time to start the tapes," Dave explained.

Richard nodded.

Jake started his final piece. At first, Richard couldn't place what the slow melody was. Then he realized it was the beginning of the Sibelius Violin Concerto that the violinist had played the night before at the orchestra concert.

Emotion flooded through Richard at the memory. He cringed at how the evening had gone. He felt badly about having been so dismissive of the girls, and had slept terribly as a result. Several times he had gotten up out of bed and started for their room to talk with them, but then decided against it. He wasn't sure what he would say.

One thing was clear, though: he needed to get serious about his piano playing. The more he had thought about his lesson, as he was sulking in the practice room the night before, the more he realized how disappointed Mrs. Tertychnaya had been in him. Memories of Jenna telling about her friend's dismissal from the school fueled his fears that Mrs. Tertychnaya was about to drop him as a student. He wasn't sure if that was what she was thinking, but he didn't want to find out. How would he face Sandra and Emily?

How would he face his father?

He wouldn't have to, if he could get back on track. He would have an hour after the test was over to get some practicing in before class. Or maybe I should find Emily and Sandra? he wondered.

No. That kind of thinking got him into trouble in the first place. Sandra would be in English, and he'd see Emily in analysis at ten, anyway.

He hoped they would understand.

"Richard?"

Richard snapped out of his thoughts, realizing Jake was waving to his invisible fans. Richard hadn't even noticed that the piece had finished.

"Sorry, I..." He felt stupid. It was better to be quiet than admit having drifted off, obvious though it was.

Richard guessed at the end time. He made a slight grimace as he realized that he hadn't notated any levels, either.

Jake walked off stage, so Richard stopped the tapes and reset the mixer controls, and finally pulled and labeled the tapes.

"Great, man! Way to go. I think you are fully trained, now," Dave said, nodding.

"Really? Sorry I messed up the ending there," Richard said apologetically.

Dave shrugged. "Just stay alert in the future. Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah, I was just thinking about my day," Richard said, shrugging.

"Busy, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Well, remember, don't take on too many recordings. I don't want Irina breathing down my neck!"

Richard chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll keep it manageable. Has she said anything to you about me working here?"

Dave shrugged. "I saw her yesterday afternoon, and she didn't say anything."

"When do you start recording her album?" Richard asked.

"In a month or so. Hey, are you interested in doing technical assistance on it?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't know if I'll have the time."

"Fair enough. Let me know. Maybe I'll ask Irina," Dave mused. "Do you remember Jarrett?"

"Yeah, the producer?"

Dave nodded. "He'll be working on that one too. He'd love to have you help, I'm sure. He thought you were great during Maria's session. He still talks about that one mistake you caught!"

"Oh, it wasn't a big deal," Richard dismissed, feeling a little self-conscious. "Just luck, really."

Dave laughed. "Well, I won't let him forget about it!" he said. "All right, I'm back to the office. Just dump those tapes in the bulk box, will you?"

"Sure. I'll see you around."

Dave waved and went out of the control room.

The lights in the concert hall went dark, and Richard sat heavily in the mixing chair. The very faint hiss of the speakers was all he could hear, and that reminded him to power down the amplifiers.

He was worried about facing Emily in class. Are they mad at me? They were so excited to see him last night, and he went and ruined it. The crestfallen look on Sandra's face when he rejected her offer of a massage was heartbreaking.

Richard sighed. There was suddenly too much to handle. He needed to eat breakfast. He needed to talk to the girls. He needed to practice. And there was only an hour before classes started.

Practice first. That was his new motto.

-------

Richard let out a groan of frustration. He had been wrestling with this same passage for almost a half-hour now, and he felt as clumsy on it as he had a month ago. The fingerings Mrs. Tertychnaya had suggested were just not working for him. His headache pounded as he shot the music score an annoyed look.

Maybe he wasn't cut out for this. If he was going to have to start over and relearn everything he knew about playing the piano, he should just give up now. He leaned his head against the wall, and tried to control his anger.

There was a knock on his practice room door. Richard's heart raced, as he wondered if it was Emily or Sandra. He was almost relieved to see Jer peeking in through the rectangular window.

Richard opened the door.

"Dude, are you all right?" Jer asked.

"Yeah, just taking a break."

"By pounding your head on the wall?" Jer raised a brow.

Richard shrugged, but didn't answer.

"Everything cool with your girls? They came looking for you around eight-fifteen. Fucking woke me up! It's cool, though. They were surprised you weren't there."

"I forgot I had a meeting. I'll see them in a bit."

Jer nodded. "Everything cool?" he asked again.

"Yeah, everything's cool." Richard answered.

"All right, I'll see you in class then."

"Later."

Richard glanced at his watch. He had twenty minutes. He had to get his shirt, which he had left in the control room. It was always very hot in there, since the air conditioning was blocked to keep the room quiet. Ms. Connelly's room was always cold, though.

It was no use trying to practice right now, anyway.

-------

As he was walking out of the control room, he happened to glance at the shelves of archived recordings that lined the walls of the anteroom. Hundreds of DAT tapes arranged by date stood as a testament to the amount of concerts that were given each year at Wexford. Soon, I'll have recorded some of these tapes,  Richard thought. And after that, I'll be playing on a few, too. If I'm even around... 

Lined up on the opposite wall were large boxes of reel-to-reel tapes, remnants from the era before the advent of digital recording.

By chance, his eye landed on one pair of rubber banded white reel-to-reel boxes. He did a double take as he read the label: "Faculty Recital: I. Tertychnaya, October 17, 1979."

Richard pulled the boxes down and glanced at the front. It merely repeated the information on the spine. I wonder what she played?

He fingered the rubber band for a moment. Glancing at his watch, he hurried back to the recording equipment and threaded the tape through the guides, clumsily feeding the leader onto the take-up reel.

He had to laugh to himself. Just a week ago he had asked Dave what the point was of having a giant reel-to-reel machine in the control room, if no recordings were ever done on it anymore. Dave had explained that sometimes people wanted old tapes transferred to CD or cassette, and that was one service that was provided. And indeed, at the next meeting with Dave, he had shown Richard how to operate the reel-to-reel unit as part of his training.

"Just in case."

Dave had also said that the big-money visitors to the conservatory liked seeing 'a real recording studio.' That was also the reason he kept a twenty-four channel mixer in the control room, even when most concerts were recorded with two or four microphones. It helped with fundraising, even if just a little bit.

At the time Dave had shown him how to use the reel-to-reel, Richard remembered thinking he would surely never use the thing again.

He flipped on power to the amplifiers and brought up the playback return. He fast-forwarded through the crowd noise, and then found the walk-on applause.

Richard sat in front of the speakers and closed his eyes. The hall got quiet...

-------

 ... Irina adjusted her bench slightly, repositioning it a fraction of an inch closer to the piano. She stayed motionless for a full five seconds. The black velvet of her dress swayed gently as she rested her feet on the pedals.

Am I ready for this? she wondered. She knew she wasn't. The stress of the move had taken a toll on her practice time of late. She should have listened to herself. Or even to her husband. Harvey had suggested a milder program as well.

But Irina was out to make her mark on the conservatory. Even though her reputation had preceded her arrival in the ranks of the piano faculty a few months earlier, she wanted her first faculty recital to be historic in its own right.

She wasn't ready, no, but it would be enough for the audience, and even enough for the other piano faculty. Only she knew how much better she could play. Only she, and Harvey.

One last breath ... Then she raised her hands, and struck the first low register octave C's with her left hand. The rich harmonics of the piano filled the hall at once. It seemed like the octave rang forever, but it was really only a split second before her right hand flew off along the difficult arpeggios of the first Etude.

Frustration set in as Irina fought to make her fingers sing the melody which constantly shifted registers, peeking between the filigree of the arpeggios. Having small hands was not in her favor for this piece, but rarely was anything ever in her favor in life.

As she hit the last notes a few minutes later, Irina made a vow to play this program again one day, when she was ready.

There was a murmur and a smattering of applause from a few people, which quickly died down. Irina didn't even notice. She was focused on the second etude.

There was no respite in this program. One down, eleven to go. And that was only before intermission...

-------

 ... From the opening notes of the recital to the last C major chord of the twelfth Etude, Richard had sat riveted to the chair, amazed at what he was hearing: his piano teacher playing some of the most challenging music ever written. Live, and all at once! It was breathtaking, emotional ... and so musical.

The end leader of the reel slipped off the hub and the grey flanges began to spin wildly. Richard pressed the stop button absently, his mind still sitting in a concert hall sixteen years ago.

He glanced at the second reel-to-reel box, and then at his watch. He had missed the beginning of class already. Ms. Connelly, though nothing like Dr. Dobra in terms of strictness, was not fond of latecomers either.

Richard threaded the first tape back onto its reel and rewound it as he weighed his options. He really wanted to see if Mrs. Tertychnaya had played the next set of twelve Etudes on the second tape. He was almost salivating at the idea. Growing up, Pollini's version of the pieces was one of his favorite recordings ever. He had worn out three of those yellow labeled cassettes. Of course, his father had introduced Richard to the recording. It was not unexpected, given the Italian heritage of Pollini, that he should be one of Vittorio's favorite musicians. He since had turned into one of Richard's musical heroes as well.

But Mrs. Tertychnaya's recording was so different. There was an urgency, a passion to the playing that was quite different from the eloquent restraint of expression that the Italian pianist demonstrated. Perhaps it was the fact that it was live, but Richard felt like he understood his teacher much more for having heard this old reel-to-reel tape. None of her other commercial recordings, though superb in their own right, had connected with him so deeply like this one just had.

Richard made his decision. The analysis of subdominant chords could wait.

The second box could not.

Richard replaced the first reel in its box, and then threaded the second tape onto the machine. Thank you, Dave,  he thought silently. As soon as he had the time, he was going to be making a cassette dub of this tape.

Richard was not disappointed; the first notes of the second half confirmed that she was going to play the complete cycle.

Richard took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he settled in for the next half-hour journey through his teacher's musical heart.

-------

Sandra was frowning when Emily came out of the classroom alone.

"Where's Richard?" she asked, concern etched on her face.

"I don't know. He didn't show up for class."

Sandra let out a breath. "What?"

Emily shrugged and shook her head. Just then, Jer walked by, on his way out of the classroom.

"Jer, have you seen Richard?" Sandra asked him, urgently.

"Yeah, he was practicing this morning right before class. I thought he said he was coming, but..." Jer shrugged.

"Okay, thanks," Sandra said, as Jer went off.

"Let's go find him and get some lunch," Emily said. "He's probably down in a practice room still."

"He's mad at us," Sandra said softly.

"Why do you say that?"

"He skipped breakfast; he didn't come to class. If he wasn't mad at us, he would have at least let us know what he was doing."

"I don't know, Sandra."

Sandra sighed and then the girls headed down to the practice rooms to look for the elusive Richard.

-------

Awestruck, Richard's hands shook slightly as he carefully replaced the tapes on the shelf. The middle of the seventeenth Etude had made him choke up. And the last notes of the twenty-fourth had made him remember why he played the piano.

As he hefted his pack, he checked his watch. Class was out. He needed to find the girls, and then get back to the practice room.

Richard knocked on their dorm room door, but there was no answer. He went up to his room. Jer was lying on his bed with headphones on, following an orchestral part. Richard could hear the strains of an orchestra seeping out from the edge of the headphones.

"Jer!" Richard called out.

Man, he listens loud!

Richard walked to the head of his bed and got Jer's attention visually.

"Hey, what's up dude?"

"Any calls?" Richard asked.

"Your dad called this morning," Jer said.

"All right. Nothing from Emily or Sandra?"

"I saw them after class. Where were you at?"

"I got stuck in the recording room and lost track of time," Richard said dismissively. "Do you know where they went?"

"No, probably over to Crapler."

Richard checked his watch. "At eleven?"

"I don't know. I thought they said something about lunch."

Richard groaned. "If they call or stop by, tell them I went to eat."

"Cool. Hey, would you mind backing the CD up a minute or two?"

Richard obliged as Jer replaced his headphones, and then he headed towards the cafeteria.

-------

Sandra was very worried. A tour of the practice rooms had been fruitless, and no one had answered the knock on Richard's door.

"And no message," Emily said, eyeing the unblinking light on the answering machine.

"He's mad at us," Sandra repeated.

"Will you stop saying that?" Emily retorted, frustration touching her voice.

Sandra sat glumly on the edge of her bed.

"Maybe he just needs some time," Emily said, more calmly. She stared out the window absently, fingering the edge of the desk.

There was a long period of silence, as each was lost in thought. An almost idyllic first month at Wexford had suddenly become uncertain.

Emily moved to sit next to Sandra. "I'm sorry for snapping at you."

"It's okay. I'm a little on edge, too," Sandra admitted. "I think I need to be alone for a little while."

Emily nodded. "I'm going to try to practice a little. If he shows up, come and find me."

Emily grabbed her horn and gave Sandra a gentle stroke on the head before she quietly shut the door behind her.

Sandra laid back on the bed, and stared at the ceiling.

Maybe it's all a misunderstanding,  she thought. But why would he be out all morning, not calling, not going to class, not in his room? Did I do something wrong last night?

Sandra replayed the evening in her head, weighing the significance of each moment. Nothing stood out as having been out of the ordinary. In fact, Richard had seemed happy the whole evening, getting into the teasing with her dress.

Unless he's mad I made him go play the piano,  she suddenly thought. And then he had a bad practice!

Sandra spent a few somber moments pondering her role in Richard's disappearance. Maybe his lesson had been really bad? But he's such a good pianist, it's hard to imagine him having a bad lesson.

Richard had been spending a great deal of time with Emily and her, she knew. It was their fault he had had a bad lesson. All the long evenings hanging out...

Sandra stood up, feeling depressed. Despite trying to stay positive, she couldn't keep the miserable thoughts from consuming her. She didn't realize, until now, how much she needed Richard.

"Richard, please come back..." she whispered.

She tried, in vain to distract herself with some music.

Emily came back to the room after fifteen minutes. Sandra looked up at her, hope in her eyes.

"I can't practice like this. We need to find him," Emily said.

"Maybe he went to lunch."

"Maybe. Let's go look. I'll leave him a note on our door."

Emily scribbled something on a scrap of paper and taped it on the outside of their door, and then they left for the cafeteria.

-------

Richard finished his meal as quickly as he could, not having found Sandra and Emily at the dining hall. He was more nervous than he remembered having felt recently. With each passing minute, he felt like he was slipping away from them. Their disappointment from last night had surely turned to anger by now.

As he walked back from the cafeteria, he saw them up ahead.

All three of them stopped in their tracks for a moment. Emily put her hands out to her sides. Richard walked up to them.

"Where have you been?!" Emily asked.

"Where have you been?" Richard replied.

"Us?" Sandra said. "We were looking for you all morning. You didn't come to class, and you didn't come find us for breakfast."

"Or lunch, apparently," Emily added.

"I've been really worried!" Sandra said.

She seems quite upset,  Richard thought.

"What's going on?" Emily asked.

"I was looking for you too," Richard began.

"Are you mad at us?" Sandra asked directly. Emily put a hand on her arm.

"No, I'm not mad," Richard said quietly.

"Then start talking!"

Richard took a deep breath, and then explained his late waking, the subsequent meeting with Dave, and the discovery of his teacher's tapes in the control room.

"Then I couldn't find you in your room or in the building, so I thought you went to eat lunch. Now I was just on my way back to find you," he finished. Richard looked at the girls expectantly.

They stared at him for a moment considering his story. Finally Sandra spoke.

"I thought you were mad at me, after I made you go practice last night," she said softly.

"No! No, not at all! I just ... had some things to think about, and then this morning was crazy."

"Well, you scared me," Sandra said.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry," Richard said earnestly. "I guess from your perspective it must have been weird. I'm okay, though."

Neither of them spoke.

"Are you okay?" Richard asked.

Emily nodded, but Sandra stared at the floor unmoving. A million thoughts went through Richard's head. The distance between them seemed to be miles, rather than feet. He had really messed up by not leaving them a note, at least.

Passersby glanced at the frozen scene before moving on.

A moment later, Sandra was in his arms.

"I'm sorry," Richard whispered into her hair. He extended an arm to Emily and pulled her into the three-way hug.

Relief flooded through Richard as the girls hugged him.

"I'm sorry, too. I was really worried," Sandra said. Letting out a deep breath, she gave Richard a kiss. "Don't do that again, please?"

"You mean kiss you?" Richard said tentatively. Fortunately Emily laughed and broke the mood.

"Oh, you ... silly man!" Sandra said, slapping his chest.

"Were you on your way to eat?" Richard asked them.

"We were on our way to look for you," Emily said emphatically. "But I guess we should eat."

"Okay. I'll come hang," Richard said.

"Going to have seconds?" she asked.

"No way! I think I'll just watch, thanks."

They walked back to the cafeteria, which was more crowded now as noon approached. Richard secured a table as Sandra and Emily got their lunch.

"So what happened last night?" Emily asked Richard as they sat next to him. "You seemed really down."

"I was," Richard said. "I went to practice after the concert, and nothing was going right. It was so frustrating. I felt lost: like I had never played before."

"Oh, I know how that feels. I have days like that too," Emily said.

"Really?" Richard asked.

"Well, yeah. Sometimes I just can't coax a single good note out of the horn."

Richard nodded appreciatively. "Well, I never really felt that way about playing the piano before. I've always been confident in my playing."

"What changed?" Sandra asked.

Richard shrugged. "I had a bad lesson. She was pretty critical of my playing. I've never really had that before either. My old teacher wasn't a pushover, but he was pretty positive about things. I think Mrs. T. gave me a clear message yesterday that I wasn't working hard enough."

"What do you think?" Emily asked.

Richard spread his hands before him. "She's probably right."

"But you have been practicing a lot," Sandra said.

"I guess. She's been showing me things in lessons, and I haven't really worked on them enough. I've been practicing other things. I'm not even sure now what I thought I was practicing. I kind of got off track."

"Why?"

"I guess she wants me to change some things in my technique. Play more from the body than the fingers."

"When I got here, the first thing my teacher did was rework my breathing technique," Sandra said.

"How's the new technique working?" Richard asked.

"It's great. I came here to learn, and it's already made a huge difference in how I sing. Bridget is so much better than the teacher I had back home. She's amazing, really."

Richard nodded. "I guess I've been resisting it," he admitted. "I was always the top dog back home in my piano teacher's studio. He was a good teacher, but he didn't teach me any of the things Mrs. T. is teaching me. I guess that's the difference between someone like him who teaches kids freelance, and someone like Mrs. T., who is one of the great pianists of the world."

"You seem somewhat positive about it today," Emily observed. "Did you get some good practice in this morning?"

"Nah, it was shitty," Richard said. "But I found some old tapes of Mrs. T. playing the Chopin Etudes in concert. That's why I was late to class."

"And?" Emily said.

"And they were incredible! It was like opening this new view on piano playing. Those are my favorite piano pieces, ever, and I've never heard them played like she did," Richard said, still hearing the echoes of the concert in his head.

"That's pretty cool. Do they have any other tapes?" Sandra asked.

"Yeah, hundreds. Thousands. Every concert that's been recorded is kept there."

"Damn," Emily said.

"I wonder if my teacher is there," Sandra mused.

"I can look," Richard said.

"You still haven't shown us the recording room," Emily reminded him.

"Yeah, I know," Richard said sheepishly. "Maybe we can go after lunch."

"We have classes in half an hour," Sandra said.

"True. After dinner then, if there's no recital tonight. I'll check the schedule."

Sandra and Emily cleared their trays and the three of them walked back to the dorm.

"So..." Sandra began. "Are we keeping you from practicing?"

"No, I have class now, also," Richard said.

"I meant in general."

"Oh."

"We stay up late, and spend a lot of time together," Sandra explained.

"I know," Richard said. He thought for a moment. "But I think I can handle it. I just need to get serious about learning from my teacher. I might have to practice more at night sometimes, when things get crazy."

"If we can help, please tell us," Emily said earnestly.

"I know. I am really sorry about last night. You two mean so much to me. It wasn't fair to just leave you hanging like that. I was having a difficult moment."

"You don't have to go through it alone," Sandra said.

"I know. But it's still not easy to admit I'm having a tough time, even to you two."

"It will work out," Emily said, putting an arm around Richard and giving him a little squeeze.

"I know. I just hope I haven't messed things up with my teacher."

"Just show her how you can really play. Sandra and I have heard it."

Richard sniggered briefly. "When I've played for you, I messed up so much!"

"You mean the wine didn't help?" Emily teased.

"Maybe it helped you not hear the mistakes!" Richard said.

The three of them laughed and entered the dorm. Once in their room, Sandra shut the door.

"So, dinner at six-thirty?" she said.

"Orchestra rehearsal is over early today for me. They're doing something without brass for the last half hour," Emily said. "What kind of music doesn't have brass in it, anyway?"

"Oh, get over it, Emily!" Sandra said lightheartedly.

"Well, I'm going to practice after piano seminar, so let's just meet at six-thirty so I can get two good hours in," Richard said.

"Cool. All right, I need to get to Art class," Emily said, shouldering her pack.

Emily gave Richard a firm kiss, and a smile. Then she looked at Sandra for a second. Making sure she had Richard's attention, she gave Sandra a kiss too. She made it a little more suggestive than necessary.

Richard watched intently, eyes widening slightly. His mouth moved but no words came out.

"Bye!" Emily said, as she gave Richard a wicked grin.

"Hey!" Sandra said.

Emily paused in the doorway. "What?" she asked innocently.

"Now I have to explain that!"

"I know. Have fun!" Emily closed the door.

Richard turned to Sandra expectantly.

"Um..."

-------

Richard knocked on Dave's office between classes.

"Come!"

He pushed the door open. Having never been in there, Richard stopped in surprise. Dave's office was a mess. Tapes were lying everywhere among the papers. A few stacks of old cassette decks and a record player added to the chaotic landscape of his large L-shaped desk.

"Don't mind the mess," Dave said, grinning.

"Seems unlike you, Dave." Richard pointed to an unlabeled cassette. "Is there anything on that tape?"

Dave grimaced. "Maybe," he said cautiously.

"You do know what they say about unlabeled tapes, don't you?"

Dave guffawed. "Caught! Ah, well, the front end of the operation is neat, at least."

Richard nodded. The operation Dave ran did go very smoothly. Not only did the audio department record dozens of concerts a month, but they also maintained all the classroom stereo equipment, offered cassette and CD duplications, setup sound reinforcement for events, and provided any number of audio related services. All of this was done by Dave and his small group of student workers. That made the messy desk all the more surprising.

It was a wonder Dave was so laid back. Or maybe that was the only way to survive in his circumstance.

"I was just giving you a hard time," Richard said.

"No sweat. One of these days I'll find out what color my desk is again. What's up?"

"I had a question about the archive tapes in the control room."

"What about them?"

"Are we allowed to listen to them?"

"Sure," Dave said.

"Good. I did pull one out this morning. Of my teacher. It was really cool to hear her play."

"Great!"

"Um, can I make a copy of it?" Richard asked. "I mean, if that's not allowed..."

"Well, technically,  you're supposed to have permission from the artist. But, I won't say anything as long as you don't."

"Well, maybe I'll ask Mrs. Tertychnaya if it's all right."

Dave nodded. "Okay. Whatever you want. It's not a big deal, though. Official policy is not for everyone, you know. Being in the audio department has some benefits."

"Cool. Also, would it be okay if I showed the control room to a couple of friends tonight? I was just going to play them a few things on the big speakers."

"Of course." Dave glanced at a schedule on the wall. "There's no recording tonight. Unless someone needs to use the room for tape duplication, go for it."

"Great, thanks!"

"What will you play them?" Dave asked.

"Um, I don't know. Just a few CDs."

Dave swiveled around in his chair and fingered down the stack of CDs before pulling one out and offering it to Richard. "Here, this one's always fun," Dave said. "Go easy on the volume, though. I'd suggest checking it out beforehand."

Richard glanced at the CD and grinned.

-------

The evening couldn't come soon enough for Richard, but he managed to focus on his practicing and get some work done. He was ready to backtrack and spend some time learning the techniques Mrs. Tertychnaya had shown him. It was not easy, given that he was so used to playing in a certain way. Many of the movements and fingerings seemed awkward or superfluous. And yet, at the end of two hours, he had made some progress. He wasn't sure it was an improvement over how he normally played, but it felt a little less foreign, at least.

One of the problems was that he still was having to think so much about the physical movements that he couldn't focus on the music. The new technique was a distraction.

"That's why you need to break it down, and take it slow," Emily said as they walked back to the dorm from dinner.

"I am taking it slow," Richard said.

"Well, hammer at it then. It has to be second nature. If I had to consciously think about every breath and embouchure change I have to make for each note on the horn, I'd never play anything."

"I guess," Richard said. "It's just so frustrating! I mean, a few weeks ago, when I played for you that night in the practice room, it was so cool. I just saw this whole new way of playing. And I was doing it! It was so natural. Now that seems miles away. I feel like I'm getting further from that, not closer."

Emily laughed. "You know, I said that exact thing to my teacher a year ago. I was playing this piece for her, and all of the sudden, I just felt it, you know? I was on. I was doing things which I had never done before, and it was like I was watching myself do it."

"Yeah, that's it!" Richard agreed.

"And she knew what happened," Emily continued. "She then showed me what I had done. And even though I had just done it, I'm still working on those things now. I'm still not able to play that piece like that one time."

"Why is that, though?" Sandra asked. "Sometimes we can sing, or play so well, and the next day, or even next week, we can't do it half as well."

Richard shrugged. "I don't know. Ups and downs."

"I asked my teacher that, after the techniques she showed me weren't working easily," Emily said. "And she said that as you learn more about your instrument, it's like hiking in the mountains. Sometimes you make a breakthrough and come to an overlook, where you can see this awesome mountain top on the other side of the valley. And you can enjoy the view of the mountain top while you are there, but to really get to that peak, you need to go through the valley. And sometimes you lose sight of the goal along the way..." Emily stared at Richard and Sandra for a moment. "She was fond of analogies," she explained. "Maybe too fond."

"So I'm deep in the valley?" Richard bemoaned.

"Maybe. Better than being stuck at the overlook forever, though," Sandra said. "I'm there too, so it's not so bad, huh?"

Richard gave her a little grin. "I'll admit I felt a little better towards the end of practice," he said. "Well, time for the control room tour. This way."

"Wait, let's go back to the room," Emily said.

"Why?"

"I want to show you something. No, Richard, it's not that," she said in response to his hopeful look.

"One can dream," he said.

"You don't have to dream, silly. But I want to see the control room before we do anything like that."

Back in the room, Emily dug through her bag, and pulled out a music score. "I found this for us. It's not exactly what I was looking for, but maybe we can do it."

Sandra took the score from Emily. "Britten?"

"It'll take a little arrangement, but maybe it will work," Emily said. "If you want to, that is. I thought this way we could still spend time together while playing music."

It was a Serenade for tenor, horn and strings.

"I know you're not a tenor," Emily said to Sandra, "But maybe you can sing it in a different octave? And the strings are written in piano score. I don't know, it's probably a stupid idea. If you..."

Sandra dropped the score to the bed, and then gave Emily a big hug.

"It's an awesome idea! How did you find this?"

"I asked my teacher if he knew of any pieces with that instrumentation. It was a long, shot, but this was the closest thing he could think of off the top of his head."

"That's really cool, Em," Richard said, nodding appreciatively.

"I'm not trying to add to our workload, but maybe instead of playing Uno, we can fool around with this."

"Yeah, definitely," Richard agreed.

"Let's go try it now!" Sandra said.

"How about after Richard's tour?" Emily reminded her.

"Oh, right, of course!" Sandra was giddy with excitement. She gave Emily and Richard each a kiss, and then hopped around like a little girl on her birthday.

"I've never heard this piece," Emily said. "I hope it's cool."

"I love Britten. Peter Grimes is one of my favorite operas," Sandra said.

"It will be fun, no matter what. Come on, we have a long night ahead if we are going to sight read some of this," Richard urged, waving the score at them.

Emily grabbed her horn, and then looked happily at Sandra and Richard. "I'm ready."

Richard smiled as he followed the girls out of the building.

Things felt right again. In addition, he had a new sense of direction, and best of all, he had his two friends steadfastly with him for the journey.



-------

Chapter 17: Serenade



"Those are some big speakers!" Sandra exclaimed, as they entered the recording control room.

Richard grinned. "So size does matter then?" he asked suggestively.

Emily and Sandra just gave him a look before peering through the window to the concert hall. A cellist was practicing with a pianist.

"Wow, the view is really good from up here!" Emily said.

"Yeah. It sounds good, too," Richard said. He flipped on the power amplifiers and then brought up the faders for the hall microphones. The cello and piano music streamed into the room.

Richard gestured for Sandra to sit in the sweet spot in front of the mixer.

"Close your eyes," he said gently, his hands gently massaging her shoulders.

After a moment, Sandra said "Mm, that feels good."

Richard pulled his hands away abruptly. "You're supposed to be listening!"

Sandra turned and gave him a little pout, but Richard just pointed to the speakers with a stern look.

Sandra listened for a while. "You can hear every detail of the cello playing," she said at last. "It's really rich."

"Box seat view, front row sound, as Dave likes to say," Richard offered.

Emily took a turn in the seat. "Can we watch concerts from up here from now on?" she asked, after listening to the music.

Richard chuckled. "If I'm recording, maybe. Dave probably wouldn't mind. As long as you don't distract me from my job."

"Oh, we would never do that," Emily said innocently, sidling up to him.

Richard looked at her levelly. "Right..."

"Are these the tapes where you found your teacher's concert?" Sandra called from the anteroom.

"Yeah."

Emily and Richard joined her in front of the stacks of tapes. They scanned the spines, every now and then pointing out a famous name.

"Hey, look, here's a recital by my teacher!" Sandra said.

"Want to take a listen?" Richard asked.

"Sure!"

Richard pulled the DAT tape from the shelf and brought it to the machine in the control room. He handed the J-card to Sandra, and she scanned over the program printed on it.

"Ooh, go to track eight!" she suddenly exclaimed.

Richard skipped forward on the DAT, and then turned up the volume on the mixer as the music began. Richard recognized it as the piece he had tried to accompany Sandra on when Allison had listened to them play.

Sandra sighed as her teacher made the first entrance sound so easy. "I wish I could do that..."

"Beautiful voice," Emily said quietly.

"Mm hmm," Sandra concurred.

When the piece finished, Sandra turned to Richard. "This is amazing, Richard. It's like being right there!"

"I know," Richard said. "It's cool to have access to all these tapes. Do you want to hear more?"

"Not now. I want to go play Emily's piece."

"Okay." Richard rewound the tape.

"Good evening," Dave said, startling the trio. He was grinning at them.

"Oh, hey Dave! Do you need to use the room?" Richard asked as he carefully replaced the tape in its case.

"No, no, I was just on my way home. I thought I'd see how your guests like the control room."

"Very neat," Emily said.

"Oh, Dave," Richard said suddenly, "this is Emily ... and Sandra."

"Nice to meet you," Dave said, nodding. "Have you played them the CD I lent you?" he asked Richard.

"No, I haven't yet," Richard said. He dug through his bag and pulled it out.

Dave loaded it in the player. "There are some great stories about this CD," he said, as he brought the volume up.

"The 1812 overture?" Emily said, recognizing the opening theme.

"Yeah. It's one of the CDs people use to 'test' their high-end sound systems," Dave said. He pulled the grille off one of the speakers.

"Why?" Sandra asked.

Dave fast-forwarded into the CD some, and then let it play. "The cannons," he said simply, and pointed to the speakers.

As the music reached the final climax, the cannons started going off. Sandra instinctively reached for her ears. Richard watched as the speaker cones stretched to accommodate the sharp transient and ensuing low frequencies. The whole room shook from the blasts. Richard noticed everyone bracing themselves against the onslaught of artillery.

Dave turned down the volume as the final chords sounded.

"Damn!" Emily exclaimed. "That was a little loud."

Dave laughed. "Yeah."

"Did you see the speakers moving?" Richard asked.

"Is that bad for them?" Sandra asked.

Dave shook his head. "Not unless they get damaged. That's about as loud as I'd go, though."

"What happens if you turn it up more, besides making us deaf?" Emily asked.

"Funny you should ask," Dave said, grinning. "I was at a party once, a long time ago, and the host decided he wanted to show off his new stereo system in front of fifty people. He played this CD, and got a little ... overexcited with the volume."

"And?" Richard urged.

"And when he got to the cannons, it was interesting. The speakers took the first few without problem, but then the woofer ripped out of its frame. A few more hits and it stopped moving altogether."

"How embarrassing!" Sandra said.

"Yeah, a little. The CD does have a warning on it, see," Dave said, pointing. "The host was a little ... dismayed. But after the fact, we all had a good laugh about it."

"I saw this piece live once, in a park concert by the Hudson River," Richard said. "They had some of the cannons firing from a barge out in the river, and they had to fire those early since the sound would take a few seconds to get to the audience. It was pretty cool. Like a real battle."

"That must have been fun to see. Pieces with cannons in them don't get performed very much, I'd guess," Dave said. "Well, I need to get home. Nice meeting you both."

"See you around, Dave," Richard said.

"By the way..." Dave said, turning back to the girls, "we're always looking for people to help record concerts."

"Oh, I don't think so," Sandra said, pointing to the mixing board. "Just looking at that thing makes my head spin."

"You'd learn. If Richard can do it..." Dave gave Richard a wink.

The girls laughed.

"Thanks, Dave," Richard said.

"I better go before I get in trouble," Dave said, smiling mischievously. "Goodnight."

Dave slipped out of the room.

"He's pretty laid back," Emily observed.

"Yeah, I like him. He's easy to work with," Richard agreed.

"Well, should we go try this new piece out?" Sandra asked.

-------

Emily put her horn to her lips, and blew the opening notes of the Serenade. The first section was a horn solo.

Richard watched closely as she sounded the notes, restarting a phrase a few times when she messed up. What was fascinating was that she never depressed the valves on the horn for the entire melody.

"Cool!" Sandra said, when Emily finished the call and took the horn from her lips.

"How do you play that without pressing the keys?" Richard asked.

"Well, Britten indicates that it should be played naturally, which means all harmonics."

Richard frowned.

"Here, listen," Emily said. She played a low note on the horn, and then by adjusting only her lips and breath, she changed pitches, ascending through the natural harmonics of the instrument.

"The high ones are close together and hard to hit cleanly," Emily said, raising a brow.

Richard nodded appreciatively. "Play the prologue again," he said.

Emily shrugged and raised the horn.

We need more space,  Richard thought. Her horn playing was beautiful, but it filled the small practice room too quickly, pressing in on his ears. Unfortunately the large piano room was occupied. Richard suddenly remembered that the concert hall had gone dark as they were listening to the 1812 overture with Dave. Maybe... 

"I'll be right back," Richard said, as Emily finished the prologue. Before the girls could question, he was walking down the hallway.

A quick peek into the hall showed that it was still dark. Richard looked around backstage and found the light board. A few tests of the switches gave nothing, but then one switch threw on a few stage lights. Richard grinned and ran excitedly back downstairs to the practice room.

"Bathroom break?" Emily asked.

"No, change of practice room."

"Is the big piano room open?" Sandra asked.

"Not quite," Richard said, gathering his music. "Let's go."

Emily shrugged and grabbed her music and case. They followed Richard upstairs and into the stage door.

"Oh, sweet!" Emily said. "No one is here?"

"Not for now," Richard said.

"Are we allowed to be here?" Sandra asked.

"I don't know. What's the worst that can happen?"

The three of them slipped through the gap in the curtain and onto the illuminated stage. The wooden floor glowed golden and their footsteps on it echoed into the dark and empty audience seating. It seemed like every sound was amplified as they set up stands and turned pages. Emily and Sandra stood facing Richard and the piano, rather than the audience.

"Now try the prologue," Richard said to Emily.

Much better! The horn filled the hall, bathing them in rich reverberation. It was a significant improvement over the claustrophobic tightness of the practice room.

Emily responded to the setting, and played a more sensitive rendition of the opening.

"Man, it's really hard to get that right on first reading," she said, staring at the music like it was a puzzle. "But let's move on," she finally said. "I don't want to be the only one playing all night."

"It sounds great, Em, especially for a first run," Richard said. Sandra agreed.

"Thanks," Emily said. "Pastoral, or another movement?"

"Let's just read through it, and see what's in here," Richard said. He stretched, and looked at Sandra. "Ready?"

She chuckled. "Um, sure..."

Richard began to play the opening chords of the Pastoral.

None of them noticed the figure slip into the concert hall and sit in the back corner.

-------

The rehearsal ended with Emily playing the epilogue.

"You're supposed to be offstage for that part," Richard said, pointing to the score.

Emily looked at him levelly. "I'm not moving now. Next time."

Sandra yawned. "It feels late."

Richard checked his watch. "Damn, it is late! Eleven. We should go."

"This was really fun," Emily said sincerely, as she packed up her horn. "Much more fun than my ensemble class."

"We should do a recital and play this," Sandra said suddenly.

"I don't think we give recitals in our first two years. We just have juries," Richard said.

"Yeah, I know, but we could still do a joint recital," Sandra said. "Gwen gave a recital last year and she was just a sophomore."

Richard pursed his lips. "Hmm. We could each do one piece and then do the Serenade together."

Emily nodded thoughtfully. "It would be a lot of extra work though."

"Not so much," Sandra countered. "We have juries anyway. We can each do something from that. Richard can play one of his fancy pieces..."

"Fancy?"

" ... and you could play the Hindemith you are working on, and I could do some songs, and then we play the Serenade." Sandra was clearly excited about the idea.

"But Richard will have to learn the accompaniments for us. Plus the Serenade is no easy piece," Emily said.

"Do you think your teacher would let you work on accompaniments?" Sandra asked Richard.

"Um, I don't know. I do have some ensemble requirements but I don't know if this would count."

"Can you ask? I mean, if you even want to. I know you are really busy with your regular practicing. Oh, well, maybe it is a bad idea..." Sandra finished glumly, as she remembered Richard's situation with his technique.

"Hold on, hold on," Richard said. "I'd really love to do this."

"Really?" Sandra said, brightening.

"Yes, definitely. But, let's see how things go. It might mean we have to spend more time in the practice room than in the dorm room together."

"That's okay," Emily said.

"Will you ask your teachers then?" Sandra asked them.

Richard and Emily looked at each other, and then nodded. A big smile spread across Sandra's face.

-------

Back in the dorm room, Sandra was walking on air.

"I'm trying not to get my hopes up," she said, although it was clear that it was too late for that.

"You really want to do this, huh?" Richard noted, as he sat in the desk chair.

"Can't you tell?" Emily said, smiling at Sandra.

"My two favorite things right now are hanging out with you two, and singing. Why wouldn't I want to do both together?" Sandra asked.

"Aw, isn't that sweet!" Emily teased.

"It's the truth," Sandra said simply.

Sandra got out a piece of paper and pencil, and wrote 'Richard, Emily and Sandra's Recital' across the top.

"What would you play on it, Richard?"

Richard laughed. "Didn't know we were having the programs printed tomorrow..."

"Trying not to get your hopes up, Sandra?" Emily said.

"I can't help it!" she admitted. "At least I can pin this on my board and look at it. It will keep us motivated."

"How long is the Serenade, anyway?" Richard asked.

The girls looked at each other and shrugged. Sandra pulled out the score and started skimming through it, humming parts. Between the three of them they figured it to be perhaps twenty-five minutes long, depending on the final tempi.

"So that's perfect, if we have three other things on the program," Sandra said.

"I'd probably play my Liszt piece, then," Richard said.

"That would be awesome!" Sandra exclaimed. "How long is it?"

"It runs about seventeen minutes," Richard said.

"So does the Hindemith," Emily said.

"Well, perfect! I'll do a few songs, and that will be it. Who goes first?"

For a few moments, they considered the options.

"How about you, Sandra," Emily said, "then me, and then Richard after intermission, and then the Serenade last."

"Good, that way I'd get a break between singing," Sandra agreed. She wrote down the program.

Richard couldn't help smiling at her enthusiasm. Still, you have to start somewhere to plan a recital. Might as well be tonight.

"And also, Richard doesn't blow us all away right off the beginning," Emily added.

"What?" Richard exclaimed.

"If you are going to play the Liszt first, I wouldn't want to go right after that," Emily said matter-of-factly.

"I guess..."

Sandra passed the mockup program to Richard. He looked it over, and then laughed. "You know, Sandra, I don't think the programs that Wexford prints up have little flowers and smiley faces on them..."

"Don't give me a hard time! I'm too excited for that!" Sandra cried.

"And you're too cute not to tease right now," Richard replied with a grin.

He passed the program to Emily, who nodded in approval.

"Do you think we can do it?" Sandra asked.

"Yeah, if Mrs. T. lets me," Richard reminded her.

Sandra looked at Emily expectantly. "I'm going to be playing the Hindemith for juries anyway, so why not?" Emily said.

Sandra pinned the program up on her corkboard, and then gave Richard and Emily each a firm kiss. After turning off the room lights and switching to the dim corner lamp, she turned to them, and unbuttoned her shirt. "Get up," she commanded.

"Me?" Richard said, not moving.

"Both of you." The shirt slipped off her shoulders as Emily and Richard watched.

Sandra's shorts fell to the floor, and she stood expectantly before them in her black underwear and bra.

"Why are you both just sitting there smiling at me?" she asked.

"You're just too cute," Emily said, echoing Richard's earlier comment.

Sandra rolled her eyes and went to Richard. "Come on. Do I have to do everything tonight?"

Richard laughed richly. "Not so fast. Before I get out of this chair, it's my turn to watch."

"Your turn?" Sandra said, frowning at him. "What do you mean?"

Emily giggled in the background at Sandra's confusion.

"You two are always taking turns watching me," Richard said. "Now it's my turn."

His meaning dawned on Sandra, and her mouth fell open. "You mean, you want to watch Emily ... and me?"

Richard nodded with brow raised, a smile creeping across his face.

"Doing ... doing what?" Sandra said, voice quiet.

Richard just stared at her, unmoving. She knows,  he thought to himself.

Emily, meanwhile, had moved behind Sandra, and was grinning at Richard. When she placed her hands on Sandra's bare back, Sandra jumped slightly.

"I don't know..." Sandra said.

"You don't want to?" Richard asked her gently.

"No, I do. I'm just shy."

"Shy? Why?"

"I've never done this before," Sandra said. She fluttered her eyelids as Emily ran her hands over the front of Sandra's bra cups.

"There's a first time for everything," Richard said quietly.

Sandra was already relenting under Emily's touch. She stood perfectly still with her arms at her sides, as Emily's hands traced down her tummy. Tingles exploded under her fingers, leaving a trail on her flesh.

"I don't know what to do," Sandra said weakly. She held her eyes closed, partly to avoid Richard's look, and partly in early ecstasy.

Emily's hands continued south along Sandra's smooth skin. Is she going to go all the way down and touch me? Right now?

Emily was moving so slowly ... Sandra started to tense up in anticipation. Just as her fingers crossed Sandra's bellybutton, pleasure suddenly exploded across her middle.

Richard, no fair! Sandra opened her eyes wide and looked at him.

"I'm sure you'll be all right," Richard said, grinning. "You are obviously very excited," he added, removing his hand.

Richard sat back again, and took in the sight before him. His arousal was tremendous, and nothing had really happened yet. All day he had been wondering if the kiss was just a tease, or if it was the beginning of a new facet to their relationship. He resisted the urge to join in any more, tempting as it was.

Sandra let out a tight breath as Emily paused short of her panties and then moved her hands around and up Sandra's back. Emily worked the clasp and quickly removed Sandra's bra. Once again her hands explored Sandra's front, but this time free of any barriers.

Emily pulled on Sandra's body, and turned her around. Sandra looked at Emily's eyes, which were calm and open.

"Do you want to... ?" Emily whispered very quietly, so that Richard could not hear.

Sandra nodded, and then leaned in slightly, lips pursed.

Richard shifted in his chair, gripping the desk to keep from jumping up and...

He couldn't see them kissing since Sandra had her back to him. Patience... !

Emily was raised up on her toes to kiss Sandra, and she might well have been floating. Tonight, her fantasies from the last month were going to be realized.

Emily led Sandra to the bed, and laid her down on her back. She slowly pulled off Sandra's panties. Sandra stretched her long legs into the air as Emily pulled the black fabric up.

Richard moved his chair to get a closer view. Emily tossed the panties onto his lap, and then gave him a wink. Richard was too agitated to return it. He took a deep breath, trying to capture every detail of the moment.

"Wait," Sandra said shyly, as Emily turned her attention back to her.

"Wait? For what?"

"I ... I don't know..."

"Just let go, Sandra," Richard assured her.

Sandra sighed and opened herself to Emily.

Richard watched in fascination. He hadn't given oral sex to either of them yet, so this was new in many ways.

Emily started with caresses, which made Sandra wriggle on the bed. From watching her with Richard, Emily knew how sensitive she was to teasing. She wanted to use this to her advantage. And Sandra's advantage,  she thought.

Richard watched as Emily confidently ran her hands across Sandra's flesh, tickling her with her fingertips. He could feel Sandra's anticipation within his own body.

Emily had exaggerated earlier, when talking with Sandra about her girlfriend experience. Well, not exaggerated, but I didn't do everything with my friend,  she thought. Fingers were one thing, tongues were another.

Emily was a little apprehensive as she moved closer to Sandra. She probably thinks I know what I'm doing... 

When she put her tongue on Sandra, the response was surprising. Emily could feel the pleasure shoot up through Sandra as she tensed up and let out a squeak. For a moment, her thighs threatened to close, but Emily stayed still, and Sandra relaxed again.

The slightest movement Emily made would make Sandra tighten her grip on the bed sheet. Richard watched the ebb and flow of their interaction, wondering how long he would be able to take it. How do they just sit there and watch me going at it with the other?

Emily broke through the initial sensitivity and now was able to freely explore Sandra with her lips and tongue. It is so, so nice, Emily thought.

Sandra raised her head up to look at Emily's eyes looking back at her over her mons. Sandra gave Emily a pleasured smile, and her eyes softened in response.

Sandra put her head back down on the pillow, and glanced at Richard. He looked like he was about to tear his clothes off and jump on the bed. Sandra almost laughed at his demeanor. Some invisible chains seemed to strap him to the chair, and she wondered when they would give way.

Whatever Emily was doing felt incredible. Sandra thought she would be too distracted with the strangeness of it all to be aroused, but the opposite was true. To be pleasured by one lover while another watched was familiar; now the roles were reversed, and the feelings were exquisite.

Emily started using her fingers again, and Sandra shivered. A thousand possibilities which she had imagined before, were now closer to being real. What would happen when Richard joined in? So many things...

Emily was murmuring herself now. This is turning her on that much? Sandra thought, pleased that it was so. Sandra felt the climb to ecstasy begin to increase more rapidly. Emily seemed to feed on Sandra's noises, and added more movement and more fingers. Heaven approached...

Emily stopped for a moment, and then let out a long moan.

"Oh, god," she whispered.

Sandra opened her eyes, and found Emily still between her legs, eyes closed. Richard had reached his limit, and was now behind Emily, a wild look in his eyes.

Emily vaguely returned to pleasuring Sandra, and every thrust from behind was transferred into Sandra through Emily's frame.

Sandra shared a long, unfocused look with Richard before she threw her head back. Emily was pressing just the right buttons. A moment later, Sandra exploded over the top of the peak.

Circles of feeling echoed across her insides as she floated in bliss. She had no idea how long she hung on to that state, but eventually Emily grew too distracted by Richard to continue, and Sandra shuddered one last time.

Sandra came down from her high just as Emily began to breath unevenly. Sandra slid down off the bed, and watched the ending. Richard had pushed her shorts down and taken her. There was no time for their disrobing. The sight was so ... passionately urgent.

Emily's body stuttered to orgasm. She let out a muffled yell into the bed.

Richard showed no sign of relenting, which drove Emily towards uncontrollable spasms. Sandra reached a hand down under Emily, and touched her right below where Richard was entering her.

Emily let out a surprised wail. It was too much, perhaps. Still, Sandra didn't take her hand away.

"No more!" Emily said weakly, after a while, spent from the intense feelings.

"Let me finish you," Sandra said quietly to Richard.

He frowned for a second as he slowed, and then Sandra pushed on his tummy. When he pulled out, he glistened from Emily's wetness.

Sandra wasted no time in swallowing him, and thus Emily. Sandra braced herself as Richard began to give his warning signs. She doubted she would contain all of it, seeing how aroused he had been watching Emily earlier.

Emily was still moaning when Richard exploded.

It was too much. After trying in vain to keep up with Richard's first two shots, she aimed the rest at Emily's swaying bottom. Emily let out a surprised "Oh!"

Sandra giggled as the jets soaked the back of Emily's shirt, and then her butt, and finally stopped. She looked at Richard. He had his head thrown back, frozen in place. After many long seconds, he let out a large breath and sank to the rug, groaning softly.

Sandra gently cleaned Emily up, and then helped her take her shirt off. Emily was still a little out of it as they lay on the rug for a long time, in silence.

"That was too intense," Emily said quietly.

"Too?" Sandra asked.

"In a good way..."

"Yeah," Sandra agreed.

"How about you, Richard?"

There was no answer. The girls grinned at each other as they realized he was fast asleep.

"It's going to be hard to practice, when we can be doing this," Emily whispered.

"I know," Sandra whispered back. "But, remember, he needs our help. If we distract him too much, we'll lose him."

Emily nodded. "I know."

Sandra gave Emily a soft, lingering kiss. "Thanks."

Emily just smiled back, and then closed her eyes.

-------

The week passed with muted excitement. Although the three of them played with the Serenade a few times, Richard wasn't ready to commit to it fully until he had the approval of his teacher. Emily's teacher had been all for the idea, and the two girls now both had set their hearts on it, which worried him slightly. There was a good chance Mrs. Tertychnaya would nix the idea, instead preferring him to concentrate on his solo practicing.

"Are you going to ask her today?" Sandra asked Richard at breakfast, on the day of his lesson.

Richard looked at her, and then took a breath. "I've been thinking I should wait a week."

"Why?"

"Well, my last lesson wasn't so great. How will it look if I go in there and ask to do something else?"

"Hmm," Sandra murmured.

"Irresponsible, at best," Richard said, waving his fork around.

"But then we have to wait another week to know for sure!" Sandra said, disappointment in her voice.

Richard shrugged. "I'll tell you what, if it seems like there's a good time to ask, then I'll ask. But don't get your hopes up."

"All right, I'm sorry," Sandra said.

"Sorry?"

"To be pressuring you. I'm just really excited, that's all."

"Me too," Richard said. "I just need to be careful."

Emily returned with a full plate.

"How can you get seconds?" Sandra asked, making a face.

"I'm hungry," Emily said with a shrug.

"We haven't been out to eat in a long time," Sandra said.

"This weekend, if Richard gets the affirmative from Mrs. T. We can celebra—"

"He's not asking her today," Sandra interrupted.

"Maybe I will," Richard corrected.

"What's up?" Emily asked.

Richard explained his position.

"I was wondering about that," Emily said, nodding. "Do what you have to do, Richard."

"Well, I'm going to go practice before my lesson," Richard said, standing and shouldering his bag.

"Good luck!" Sandra said, the cheer returning to her voice some.

"Thanks." He gave them each a quick peck on the cheek, before leaving the cafeteria.

"What are you going to do if Mrs. T. says no?" Emily asked after a moment.

Sandra slumped a little in her chair. "She can't say no!"

Emily just raised her brow at Sandra, but she was lost in thought.

-------

Richard seems excited for his lesson today, Irina thought. That is a good sign. She'd had students who would have returned depressed after a lesson like Richard's last one. Instead, Richard greeted her brightly, and went right to playing the Beethoven.

Irina listened closely, watching his fingers and arms work. He has incorporated much of what I showed him in the last lesson,  Irina noticed. The playing was still rough, but that was expected with any new technique. That he was able to break some of his old habits so quickly was impressive.

Richard finished the section, and then paused.

"Sorry, that wasn't very good," he said. He seemed a little glum.

"Why not?" Irina asked him.

"I had many mistakes."

Irina sniffed. "Do not worry about that."

"I did practice a lot this week," Richard said. "That didn't really show it."

"My teacher once said that practice takes one or two weeks to enter your playing."

Richard laughed. "Great, so now you are hearing my practice from a few weeks ago?"

"Maybe," Irina said, chuckling. "But I can see that you worked on the technique."

"You can?"

"Yes. Play again, from the second variation."

Richard did, and Irina reinforced some of the details of the fingerings she had suggested. At one point, she had Richard move aside so she could demonstrate a passage.

"Are you giving any recitals this year?" Richard asked when she finished.

"After I finish the recording I will play that program here," Irina said. "Dave spoke to me. He said you wanted to help him with the recording?"

"He asked me, really. I would like to, but only if you think it's okay."

"Yes, of course, of course."

"Great," Richard said, "Thank you. I will stay out of the way and learn."

Irina smiled. Richard seemed to hesitate about something as he sat at the keys again.

"I was in the recording room," he said slowly, "and I found an old recital that you played. I was wondering if you would mind if I made a copy to listen to?" he asked.

"Which recital was it?"

"The Etudes," Richard said.

Irina laughed richly. "Oh, the Etudes. That was my first concert here, Richard. Not my best. I would not want to hear that."

"I listened to them," Richard said.

"Ah. Then you have heard a good example of what happens when one does not practice enough."

"Not practice enough?" Richard said, incredulous.

"I was not prepared for that program."

Richard seemed almost offended to hear that, and Irina smiled at him.

"I thought it was incredible!" he blurted out.

"Thank you, Richard. You are kind. But I said to myself at the time that I could do better."

"So did you play them again later?" Richard asked.

Irina could see him wondering if there was another concert tape in the archives from a later year.

"No, I never did," Irina said after a moment.

"Why?"

"The Etudes are consuming. One does not simply sit down and play them."

"Are you ever going to play them in concert?" Richard asked.

Irina looked out the window. She had, a long time ago, vowed to play them again.

"No," she said at last. "I will not."

Richard seemed disappointed.

"Perhaps you will someday," Irina said animatedly, standing again. "But not if we spend all this time talking about my concerts! Come, let us work on the variation again."

Richard snapped out of his stare, and stretched. He looked up at Irina.

"Do you think I can start working on some of the Etudes? I've only played a few of them, but I want to learn more."

Irina returned his look for a moment before answering. "Let us see how this semester goes, and then we can talk about that."

Richard nodded.

A little more incentive to practice hard,  Irina thought.

Richard still seemed distracted, so Irina put a hand on his shoulder.

"What else?"

"Well ... This is strange, I think, but I will ask."

"What is it?"

"I have a couple of friends, and I wanted to maybe play a piece with them. I know I haven't been doing well lately, so it doesn't seem right for me to ask this, but I wanted to see what you thought about me doing a joint recital this year. With my two friends."

Irina looked at him. "What will you play?"

"I thought I'd play the Liszt, and then they would do some pieces, and then there's a Serenade by Britten that we would play together."

Irina pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"I know I have juries," Richard continued, "but I'm starting to see what I need to do. And it would be more work, but I would like to do this if I could. I ... I spend some time with them anyway, and we would be playing music instead of ... doing whatever."

Richard looked her in the eye. "So, do you think it would be a possibility?"

-------

Sandra rushed back from her voice lesson to the dorm room. Emily was practicing. Sandra didn't wait for a pause, and burst into the room.

"Where is he?"

"He hasn't come back yet."

Sandra let out an exasperated sigh.

Emily put her horn down. "Hey, relax. He probably didn't ask. Why are you so worked up about this?"

"Because I really want to do it!" Sandra said.

"So do I, but you're kind of obsessing about it. What's going on?"

"I just want to know. I feel unsettled, not knowing. When I practiced all this week, I was wondering if the recital was going to happen or not."

"Okay. But you're acting a little weird. Why is it so important? Chances are we might not be able to do it."

Sandra sat heavily on the bed. For a long time she didn't speak. Finally she stood, and faced the window.

"I guess I've also been thinking that this would bring us together even more," Sandra said.

"More?"

"Yeah. I still wonder how we are going to work out our relationship with Richard. Will it be weird if people find out? Will he get tired of me and just want to be with you?"

Emily thought for a moment. "I'm pretty happy with things," she said softly.

"Me too," Sandra said earnestly, turning to look Emily in the eyes. "And I think Richard is too. But ... it's so different! With one person, like when I was going out with Billy, it was all or nothing. We were together, or we weren't. We had plans for our future, even if they wouldn't pan out. And no one else was really involved. But here, it worries me that something will happen to one of us. I ... don't want to lose either of you as friends."

"Of course not," Emily said.

"So I guess that by having this recital planned, we all have something else to work for, together. I guess ... I guess I like knowing that things aren't going to fall apart at a moments notice. This last week scared the crap out of me. When Richard disappeared that day, I was so worried it was all going wrong."

"But we worked it out," Emily said, smiling a little. "It was just a miscommunication."

"I know," Sandra agreed. "And I know having a recital planned is no guarantee that this will last forever, or even until next spring ... But it's something. For me, anyway."

Emily smiled warmly, and gave Sandra a hug. "Look, let's see what happens. One way or another, we'll always try to make things work out. I think that —"

A knock on the door interrupted her. The two girls looked at each other, and then they rushed to the door.

-------

Sandra threw the door open. Richard stood there, keeping his face expressionless.

"Hi," Sandra said, trying to keep the emotion from her voice, but Richard could tell she was on pins and needles.

"Hi," Richard replied. He managed another moment of stony expression, but then it was too difficult to keep the smile from crossing his lips.

"She said yes!" Sandra suddenly exclaimed.

Richard let the full smile cross his lips. A second later he was on the floor of the hallway, with two excited girls hugging and kissing him.

Eventually they let him up, but not before a few dorm residents witnessed the interesting scene on passing.

"Oh, I'm so happy!" Sandra exclaimed as they went back into the room, and closed the door.

"Me too," Richard and Emily agreed. There was some more celebrating and excited giggles.

Everyone took a breath at last. Richard looked at them with a smile.

"Now the work begins," he said. "And it will be fun."



-------

Chapter 18: Intermission





Author's note:

The first half of Book One is complete. The second half will continue after this brief intermission, which follows here. Yes, there is a reason for this slight detour. Finally, a slight warning: there are some dark (but not too graphic) elements ahead.



-------

"Valery, get the door, will you?" Boris bellowed from his office upon hearing the bell ring.

Valery took his time as he wound his way through the stacks of furniture and frames. Reaching the front entry of the shop, he pulled open the heavy door and then spoke across the bars of the security gate.

"Can I help you?" Valery said.

The man smiled slightly. "I don't speak Russian."

"No English," Valery replied. "Eh ... name?"

"Harvey Mitchell."

Valery held up his index finger to him, and then went to the back of the shop. "Boris!"

Boris poked his head out from the office, and peered at the customer through the rows of clutter. Valery quietly told Boris the man's name, and then Boris said, "Let him in. He has an appointment."

As Valery turned to go to the front again, Boris grabbed his shoulder and pulled him behind some shelves.

"Listen, keep an eye on him, you hear?" he said.

Valery nodded, but Boris didn't let go.

"There are enough criminals around here. I cannot afford to have trouble from foreigners as well," Boris said darkly. "I don't know much about this man, but Fyodor vouched for him, so I'll let him in." Boris pointed to his eyes with his free hand, and then let go of Valery.

Valery adjusted his shirt and returned to the gate. Wordlessly he threw the deadbolts open, and then swung the gate for the American man to enter.

Valery watched Harvey as he walked slowly through the shop, looking at the different pieces that were placed all around. A few times Harvey turned to Valery, and Valery pointed the way for him, nodding deferentially.

He has piercing eyes,  Valery thought. He is too young, though... ?

Boris appeared suddenly, and Harvey stuck out his hand immediately.

"Boris? I'm Harvey Mitchell. Hopefully Fyodor spoke with you?"

"Yes, he did," Boris said gruffly with his thick accent, eyeing the young man. He made no effort to hide the suspicion in his look.

"Good, I'm here — " Harvey began.

Boris cut him off, looking around as if eavesdroppers were hidden in the dusky shadows of the shop.

"Not here. Follow me," he said.

Boris turned to Valery and spoke in Russian. "Valery, keep an eye on things. Do not let anyone in."

Valery nodded, and then watched as Harvey followed Boris into his office. No sooner had the door shut, than Valery made his way to an old bookshelf and reached behind a few old tomes, and then settled in to 'keep an eye on things.'

-------

A few days later, as Valery was preparing to leave work, Boris called him over.

"Valery."

"Yes, Boris?"

Boris considered something for a moment. "Valery, I need a favor."

"Yes, of course," Valery replied politely.

"Do you have your gun with you?"

"My gun?"

"Yes."

"It's at home," Valery said cautiously.

"I — I need a little help tonight. Do you remember the American man, Mitchell?"

Valery nodded.

"He's coming to my house to pick up ... something."

"From your vault?" Valery said, perhaps too eagerly.

"Yes. Fyodor said he was trustworthy, but I'm not so sure ... There's something strange about this."

"Do you think he will try to cheat you?"

"I don't know," Boris said. "He is bringing the money in exchange for it. If he doesn't bring it, then..."

"If you are worried, perhaps you should call it off," Valery interrupted.

"I need the money!" Boris said, desperation touching his voice. "You know how hard the thefts have hit me! What do you think of him?" Boris suddenly asked Valery.

"He seems a little young, but I didn't get any strange feelings from him," Valery said, shrugging.

Boris sighed heavily and peered around nervously. "Can you help me tonight?"

"Yes, of course, boss. What do you need?"

"Just come to the house at five, and bring your gun. Don't come in; just keep an eye on things while the American is there. He will come at six. If all goes well, it will be as if nothing happened. Of course I will pay you for your help."

Boris gave Valery some more instructions.

"He may be scared off if he sees you, so don't come to the door unless there's trouble," Boris finished. "If this is for real, I need to make this deal."

"I'll be there," Valery said, nodding.

-------

Boris checked his pistol for the tenth time, and then sat on the creaky stool again. There was still an hour until the American would arrive. Despite having Valery outside the house, Boris still felt uneasy. Something was wrong.

Six months ago, things had begun disappearing from his shop. It had been an accidental discovery, at first: a client had come in unexpectedly to pay in full for a long-term layaway item, and it was missing. Valery and his other employee, Ivan, had both helped him search the shop, but it was clearly gone.

Not only did Boris have to suffer the embarrassment of telling the customer that his piece was no longer available, but he had to return a good deal of cash to the man.

One thing missing could be explained by misplacement, but when a second item wasn't found, Boris grew suspicious. Boris spent a night looking at some inventory, and it became clear that someone was stealing things from the shop.

One morning he arrived early to find Ivan with some electronic equipment in hand. It was a setup to listen into Boris's office, he quickly discovered. He almost threw Ivan out right then, but Ivan pleaded his innocence vehemently, saying he had found it when looking for the missing pieces.

Boris's mistake was trusting Ivan. The thief couldn't be Valery: he had been a loyal assistant for years. No one else had access to the shop, that he knew of, except Ivan.

When Boris asked Fyodor for advice, Fyodor said "I don't know Ivan, but I'll put my hands in the fire for Valery." Unfortunately, before Boris had a chance to fire Ivan, a few more things disappeared.

Things had returned to normal since Ivan went away, but Boris still felt like someone was watching him from dark corners. The ordeal had thrown a dark cloud over Boris's already dark life.

It made waiting for the American, and his sum of money, almost unbearable.

-------

Harvey Mitchell had arrived a little early to the neighborhood where Boris lived. He drove by the dilapidated house once, and then parked the car a few blocks away. Despite promising Boris he would not arrive until six, he wanted to get this business over with. He would feel much safer with the sculpture than with the suitcase full of money.

He waited in the car for a little while, as it was too early. Fyodor would have passage for him late this evening to exit the country. If all went according to plan, in two days he would have the sculpture as the centerpiece of his collection.

Harvey had been nervous perhaps once or twice in his life. Now he could make it three.

He started counting slowly to clear his head. When he reached three hundred, he would go close this deal.

-------

A noise made Boris jump up out of his chair. He checked the clock on the wall. Still forty minutes until he should be here, he thought.

Another noise made him quietly slip to the foyer. It was the stairs creaking; someone was coming... down?

It was Irina.

What is she doing here?! Boris thought.

"Irina?" he blurted out. He stood frozen in panic. She was supposed to be at the conservatory.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, stopping fearfully on the stairs in response to the look on Boris's face.

Before Boris could answer, there was a knock on the front door. Boris looked at the door like it was about to explode in his face. "Who is it?" he yelled.

There was no answer.

"Irina, go upstairs. Do not come down until I come up and get you. Do you understand?" His voice was almost violently urgent.

Irina looked at him, fear crossing her face. Then she nodded and went up the stairs hurriedly.

Boris waited until he heard her door shut, and took his gun in hand. He peeked out the window, frowned, and then opened the door.

"You're not supposed to..."

The last thing he saw was the dirty floor from a few centimeters away.

-------

Why did Boris have his gun? Irina thought, her heart racing as she closed the door to her room. Was he making a deal tonight?

Irina heard Boris open the door and say a few muffled words. Then there was some strange noise and a heavy thud. The sounds made her heart stop for a moment. She listened desperately for any sign of what was happening downstairs, but heard nothing.

There should be talking!

A few footsteps thumped downstairs and stopped. Dread swept over Irina. Something was terribly wrong.

The things got blurry as blood rushed through her ears. The fear was threatening to overwhelm her. She had to ... to ... hide. She crept slowly to her closet. A few slight creaks on the old floorboards made her wince and hold her breath.

She slipped into the closet, and closed the door. Just as she arranged the clothing in front of her, she heard the sound of measured footsteps on the stairs. They were not Boris's, and yet they seemed somehow familiar.

Panic erased all further thought from her head.

-------

Valery was amazed at his luck. Besides being invited to the premises earlier in the evening, Boris had also already taken the art piece out of his vault. The fool! He had left it standing on his kitchen table. Not only would he collect the money from Mr. Mitchell's dead hand, but he would also have the sculpture, now. Perhaps Fyodor would exchange his part of the money for the piece.

All in all, things had turned out well. Better than Valery had ever imagined six months ago when Fyodor had first spoken to him about the American. Even that meddler Ivan hadn't ruined everything. Admittedly, Valery got a little overeager in removing things from Boris's shop, but Ivan's convenient discovery of the electronics had put the blame squarely on his shoulders. Before Ivan ever made it to the police station, Valery made sure he became irrelevant. Like Valery, Ivan had no family and few friends. He would not be missed for a long time.

But the really unexpected surprise was finding Irina here, this evening. He had wondered if he would be so lucky, although he thought it unlikely Boris would have her in the house during a business deal of this type. It was only her footsteps creaking that gave her away. Otherwise, she would have missed all the ... excitement.

She had always looked at him suspiciously, from the first day he met her. Those pretty eyes never gave him any room for an advance. Her voice never harbored any warmth, when she addressed him on rare occasion.

How often he would look at her slender body and wish he could just once touch her. He was fatally attracted to Irina from the moment he set eyes on her, and yet her first look told him he would never have her.

Valery looked down at her, now, writhing beneath him and struggling in vain.

How wrong she had been... 

She had figured things out, somehow. He had listened in to Boris's office when she had suggested to Boris that Valery was the thief. She had seen a few suspicious things, at times when Valery hadn't been careful. Yes, she was quite perceptive. She had everything figured out. Perhaps she was on the verge of telling Boris what she thought she knew.

It didn't matter now. Fyodor had made arrangements for Valery to escape the country tonight. Besides, he would shortly dispose of her like he did with Boris. The fact that he was able to exact his revenge on her was incredibly satisfying, however.

As much as he was enjoying her pained expressions, he had to finish. He had twenty minutes until the American arrived, and he wanted to be ready.

Irina's cries of fear and pain might well have been cries of ecstasy to Valery as he completed his conquest.

Standing and arranging his clothes, he spat on the floor. He grabbed his gun from the dresser, and ran a finger over it. Until a few moments ago, the silencer was the best gift he had ever received.

He owed much to Fyodor.

"Please do not shoot me," Irina said, so quietly that Valery almost didn't hear her.

"Boris is dead," Valery said. He watched Irina closely, but she seemed at the limits of her capability of feeling more fear.

"I won't say anything," she said tremulously. "I will do anything you want." Her voice was haunted.

"No, Fyod — No, you won't. You are too troublesome. I heard you talking to Boris in his office when we had that ... trouble with Ivan. You have been somewhat of an interference. You are lucky Boris didn't listen to you, or this would have happened much sooner."

"It was you, then..." Irina said. "You will be found. You worked with Boris for a long time. People know that!"

"You don't know everything you think," Valery sneered, happy to put her in her place. "In a little while, after the American comes with the money, I will disappear. All that will be left is three bodies, and some interesting questions."

Valery started to raise his arm to her.

"Wait..." she exclaimed suddenly.

"What?" Valery barked, growing impatient. Her charms were wearing away already.

Irina didn't speak, looking off with a distant expression. For a moment, a light shone in her eyes. Valery was startled by her demeanor, amazed at the sudden hope which flashed across her face. She was seeing an old memory, perhaps. She'd had almost as difficult a life as Valery had had.

The pure radiant emotion that she suddenly presented on her countenance made Valery twist inside. It could have been so different... 

Anger suddenly flared up within him. He didn't have anything more to say to Irina. In a few moments she'd have no memories ever again. Not everyone could live forever.

As he looked once more at Irina's tear-stricken face, he smiled tightly. Perhaps he could take her with him? Her pleasures were so enticing...

But she was such a liability, with her conservatory connections. No, Fyodor really would not appreciate any complications. He would have to live with the memory of her.

As he raised his gun, his eye caught a movement to his side. There was a bright flash of bronze as he swung his gun to the doorway.

Boris!? But he was dead!! Valery thought, in the instant between when he first saw the flash and when the sculpture connected with the side of his head.

The bronze was much stronger than the bone...

-------

 ... Harvey hastily threw the cloth over the canvas as he heard the footsteps approaching in the hallway. They had startled him out of his memories, but he still had heard the noise in time. By the time she entered the studio, he was standing innocently with his arms folded across his chest.

Irina glanced at the covered easel and raised a brow. "You are not finished?"

Harvey laughed. "No, not quite. It takes time to make it perfect."

Irina nodded. "But you thought that..."

"Tomorrow, and that's what matters," he interrupted, smiling warmly.

Irina moved to him and gave him a hug. "Thirty years tomorrow, Harvey."

"Yes. It seems like yesterday," he murmured into her hair.

The long embrace was interrupted by a slight movement on Irina's part. Harvey let it go as far as he dared, and then he pulled away from her and cleared his throat.

"You know me too well," Irina said, laughing richly as she let the cloth drop. She wasn't really going to look, but it was fun to attempt to do so. Harvey was so secretive about his works until they were finished.

"Are you sure you don't want to come to the airport to get Viktoriya?" he asked, as they walked back to the house.

Irina sighed, and then shook her head. "You know I have to prepare for the recording."

"I know. I was just checking."

"I am so happy she is coming," Irina said.

"And we will see her again in a month, as well," Harvey reminded her. It was rare to see Viktoriya more than once a year.

"Yes, yes. Speaking of Thanksgiving," Irina suddenly said, "I will invite one of my students this year, again."

"Oh yes? Who?"

"Richard."

"Excellent. I look forward to meeting him. I presume that he has turned things around?" Harvey asked.

"Yes, he has made some excellent progress in the last month, since we had a talk," Irina said.

"Good. You always bring out the best in people, I know."

Irina smiled gently. "Thank you, Harvey. At this point, he is not limited by his talent, only his effort and his will."

"Ah," Harvey said, knowingly. "Perhaps, since Viktoriya will be here for Thanksgiving as well, she may find him interesting?"

"Perhaps. I don't know why you are so rushed to find her a man," Irina said, laughing a little.

"I don't want her to end up with the wrong one. The friend she brought last year was rather unsatisfactory. Fortunately he is no longer in the frame. If Richard is as intelligent and talented as you say..."

"Viktoriya doesn't live here anymore," Irina chided. "And he's eighteen."

"We have greater difference between us," Harvey reminded.

"He seems to have some lady friends, already," Irina said simply.

"Friend-sss? More than one?" Harvey asked, raising a brow.

"Two."

"And they are both his lovers?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Irina said. "I've watched them practice. Lovers play together differently."

Harvey nodded thoughtfully.

"He will be giving a recital with them in the spring," Irina added.

"A freshman recital?" Harvey asked, frowning. "I thought that wasn't usually done."

Irina pursed her lips. "No, but in this case, it will be a good thing. If he joins us, you will find that Richard is a quiet man. But a great passion stirs inside of him. Sometimes as a teacher, we must feed that fire in different ways."

"Hmm. How do you feed my passions?" Harvey asked, grinning impishly as he sidled up to her.

Irina pushed him away playfully. "You should leave now, so you can meet Viktoriya inside," Irina said.

Harvey chuckled at his refuted advance and shouldered his coat. "Will Nadia be home from her practice before we return?" he asked.

"She will."

"Good, I'm sure Viktoriya will be anxious to see her. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Irina gave him a kiss. "Thank you. I look forward to seeing her."

"Have a good practice, my love..."

-------

The half hour ride to the airport from the house was surprisingly easy for a Monday evening. The traffic was minimal, and Harvey was glad for the chance to relax. He shared with Irina the desire to achieve perfection in his art, and if it weren't for the airport trip, he likely would have worked through the night on the final touches to her painting, just as Irina would work at the piano in the house.

Fortunately for both of them, Viktoriya's arrival would force Irina to take a little break. And hopefully go to bed early,  Harvey hoped. Tomorrow was going to be a good day; he had plans with Irina and their two daughters, and everyone needed to be rested.

Thirty years! No matter how he thought about it, he couldn't account for the passage of that much time. Thirty years ago, his life had changed forever.

And yet, the memories of that time were still as fresh as if they had happened last night. "I suppose they will never dull," Harvey said aloud, as he walked to the terminal building.

It was an awkward way to meet a life partner, Harvey thought. Irina had just been violated in the worst possible way, and Harvey had just smashed her attacker's head in, with a prize sculpture, no less. If the museum only knew what dark deed had been committed with that slender and beautiful arc of bronze, they would be horrified.

Over time, and despite the difficulties of the situation, things had improved. Besides the increased opportunity for her piano playing that the move to the States offered, Irina had gained a husband and lost an abusive stepfather. Harvey had gained a wife, and of course, the sculpture.

He caught sight of Viktoriya riding down the escalator with a small bag in hand. Harvey smiled deeply.

They had both gained a daughter that night, as well.

Viktoriya made her way towards Harvey as fast as her heels would allow, and then they embraced tightly for a long time.

"Oh, it's so good to see you!" Harvey exclaimed, surprised at just how emotional he felt.

"Russian, father, Russian! You know I don't get to speak it often," Viktoriya chided.

"Oh, yes, I forgot," Harvey said apologetically.

Whereas most children seemed to resist learning foreign languages from their parents, Viktoriya had taken to it from an early age, despite Irina's reluctance to speak to her in her native tongue. Harvey supposed she took after him, odd as that was. He knew seven languages when he finished college, including Russian. Without it, he might not have convinced Irina to keep Viktoriya in those first months after the fateful night.

And what a loss that would have been! He watched her, full of life, talking brightly about her flight as they waited for the baggage. She hadn't changed much in the year since he had last seen her. At twenty-nine, it was a wonder she was still single. Tall, smart, and slender, she had Irina's large eyes and dark hair. A hint of Valery's genes shone through as well, Harvey knew. Despite his terrible flaws, Valery had been a handsome man, and some of that strength had passed subtly into Viktoriya. Fortunately, his weaknesses seemed to have been left behind on the second floor of that old house in Moscow.

Viktoriya had grown up proud of her Russian background, whereas Irina had mostly dismissed it. Perhaps if Viktoriya knew everything there was to know, she wouldn't be so proud, but some truths were best kept locked away forever.

Viktoriya was in mid-sentence, but Harvey pulled her into another embrace, surprising her.

"Thank you for coming," he said.



-------

Act III

-------

Chapter 19: Mazurka



Richard was in the middle of practicing sight-singing for his midterm exam when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

Sandra pushed the door open and came in smiling. "I got our recital slot!" she said excitedly. "Oh, sorry, are you studying?" she asked, noticing the open book.

Richard folded it closed. "I guess. I'm done though."

"Are you ready?"

Richard shrugged. "It's sight singing. Who the hell knows? It depends on what he picks."

Sandra nodded. "You usually do all right in class."

"Yeah. Hopefully Dobra chooses something comparable to the ones in the book."

"Let's go get Emily and eat."

"And tell her about the recital date."

Richard followed Sandra down to her room. Emily was on the bed, listening to music with her eyes closed.

"Hey, are you — " Sandra said, but Emily stopped her with a raised finger.

The music went through a climactic few minutes, and then Emily sat up. "Mm, I just love that part," she said dreamily. "What's up?"

"Recital is set for April ninth," Sandra said.

"Cool," Emily said. "Are we eating dinner, tonight, or what?"

"Let me change," Sandra said. "It's getting cold outside."

"Good idea," Emily agreed.

The girls rummaged through clothes and pulled on long sleeve shirts and jeans. Flesh disappeared under fabric.

"I'm going to miss summer," Richard said absently as he watched them straighten out their apparel and hair. He still thought it was warm enough for shorts.

"You're such a pervert," Emily said.

"Oh, hardly," Richard retorted. "But there's something nice about, um, lighter clothing."

Emily rolled her eyes. "You see us nude all the time."

"That's different."

"So you don't like my jeans?" Sandra said, wiggling her bottom at him.

"Nah, he said these warmer clothes don't excite him at all," Emily said.

"It's not that — " Richard started protesting.

"Not turned on by the long sleeves," Emily added.

"It's going to be a long, unexciting winter, then," Sandra said conspiratorially to Emily.

"For him," Emily corrected, and then gave Sandra a delicious kiss. "I like your jeans."

"Hey!" Richard exclaimed, moving nearer to them.

With their lips still touching, the girls broke into smiles, and then giggles.

"You do look nice," Richard said sincerely.

Emily swatted his chest with the back of his hand. "Nice try."

"It's true!" Richard cried, but they had already changed the subject.

Their grins and sidelong glances, though, reassured Richard that they were just teasing him.

-------

"Who's going to come?" Richard suddenly said.

Sandra frowned at him. "Huh?"

"We have no friends ... except each other, and we'll all be on stage. It could be rather empty in that big hall."

Emily laughed, but then Richard's statement sunk in for a moment.

"Hmm. We do know some other people," Sandra said at last. "I know a couple of other singers. And there's Jer and Jenna."

"Okay, so we can fill the front row at least," Richard teased.

"Well, I'm sure other people will come," Sandra said. "People just ... go to recitals."

"Have you been to any?" Richard asked.

Sandra made a face. "No, I guess you're right. But, Emily knows a bunch of people."

"We'll be fine," Emily said. "Besides, we have some time."

"We can make posters, instead of just posting the sample program," Sandra said. "Something cool that people will be like, 'Hey, I want to go watch that concert.' Colorful, so it stands out from the regular programs that people always post."

"Like a rock show?" Richard said, laughing.

"Ooh, we can call the concert: Threesome!" Emily exclaimed. "That will get people to show up."

"A bunch of guys, at least," Sandra said.

"Why do you say that?" Richard asked.

"That seems to be such a thing for them."

"And yet two-thirds of this threesome are girls," he whispered.

The girls tittered.

"I don't think we'll be calling it Threesome," Richard said pointedly.

"How about Ména —"

"Don't even go there," Richard interrupted. "My parents might actually come out for this."

"Really?" Sandra asked.

"Yeah, I told them about it a few days ago. They were like, 'Is this something we can come to?' and I said sure."

"I haven't told my folks yet. I didn't want to get their hopes up, until the date was approved," Sandra said. "But I bet they'd come too."

"Well, don't expect my dad to come," Emily said, slightly acerbically.

"Have you asked him?"

"No. But he's always so busy. There's just no way. He was too busy to ever eat dinner with me, and he's going to come all the way out here?"

"You should at least ask him," Sandra offered.

Emily shrugged. "I'll tell him about it."

"What are you all doing for Thanksgiving, anyway?" Sandra suddenly asked.

"Staying here, I guess," Richard said.

"Same," Emily said, still glumly. "We can all go out somewhere nice, or just do something in the room."

"My parents wanted me to come home," Sandra said.

"Oh," Emily said. "That's cool."

"What if you both came with me?" Sandra asked.

"Are they picking you up?"

"Yeah, Wednesday. It's sort of a day-long drive, but it would be fun."

Richard and Emily looked at each other.

"It's either stay here and eat at Crapler, or go with Sandra and have home-cooked food," Richard said, one eyebrow raised.

"The cafeteria's probably going to be closed," Sandra said. "But I'll let you use my water steamer, and you can have rice and tea."

Emily laughed. "Well, if you put it that way..."

"If your parents are cool with intruders, I'll come along," Richard said.

"You'd hardly be intruding," Sandra said, excitement in her voice. "They're very welcoming. We have a big farmhouse, and a big table. We host the meal for our extended family, so a few more people will be no problem."

"Cool. I'm game," Richard said.

"Me too," Emily said, her spirits brightening.

"I'll call my parents tomorrow and tell them all the good news then!"

"Can we go eat there now?" Richard asked, slowing as they approached the cafeteria.

"Just one more month of cafeteria food," Sandra said, pulling on his arm.

Richard made a gagging sound, but went into the dining hall anyway.

-------

Richard paced the hallway nervously outside of Dr. Dobra's classroom. At least I'm not late,  he thought.

The door opened, and one of Richard's classmates emerged, clutching a sheet of paper. She didn't look too happy. Dr. Dobra held the door with a long arm, and nodded for Richard to enter.

"Have a seat," he said, gesturing to a desk chair situated so that the piano keyboard was out of sight. "We'll start with dictation, and then we'll do the sight singing."

Richard obliged, and pulled out some blank staff paper and his pencil.

Dr. Dobra sat at the piano. "Some intervals, then. I'll play each twice, as we've done in class."

Richard listened closely to each note pairing, and then notated the intervals. He could feel Dobra's eyes on him as he wrote, peering through the triangle of the open piano lid.

The intervals were not hard for Richard, and he was reasonably sure he had gotten them correct. He could usually visualize playing them on the keyboard in his mind, and then it was just a matter of counting the distance.

"Very well, let us proceed. Melodic dictation. Please be sure to use correct rhythmic notation. As always, I will play it three times. The first time I'll play it normal speed, the second time..."

As Dr. Dobra gave his standard spiel, Richard's mind drifted momentarily. He wondered how Sandra had done on her exam. She had an earlier time slot, but he hadn't caught her in time to see how it had gone for her. As Jenna had promised early in the semester, Dr. Dobra seemed to be friendliest to Sandra, of all the people in the class. Richard was not too worried about her, but he had hoped for a tip on what Dobra was going to do.

Suddenly, Dr. Dobra was playing the melody. Richard snapped out of his thoughts, his heart racing. He had completely missed Dr. Dobra telling him what the first note was, and the key that the melody was played in. And now the first phrase had completely gone by. Richard panicked as he realized he had no idea what to write down.

Dr. Dobra finished the melody, and paused. Richard grew frantic. The melody was in a major key, but that was not much help. Without a reference note, he was lost.

Should I ask him for the starting note again?

Richard glanced at Dobra's beady eyes watching him, and then turned back to his paper, writing a few random notes down.

"Second time," Dr. Dobra announced, and he started the melody over, slowly this time.

Richard decided he would guess the key. As long as the melody is right, even if the key is wrong, I'll get some credit. Richard glanced at Dobra again. Hopefully get some credit.

The third pass allowed Richard to get most of the melody written, but not all. He cursed silently at himself for having drifted off.

As Richard made some last guesses, he knew they were wrong. That last interval was not that big! But it ended on the tonic... ? Ah fuck... 

"Okay, if you don't have it by now," Dr. Dobra said, "you probably don't have it. So, let's move on."

Richard shot him a glare, but Dobra was looking at his paper.

"Harmonic dictation. Please write down the chords, using proper rhythm..."

This time he didn't drift off. Dr. Dobra played his stupid chords, and Richard wrote them down. Despite his anger at having messed up the melodic dictation, he managed to concentrate enough to figure out the progression.

Finally it was time for the sight-singing portion of the exam. This was the part Richard was least looking forward to. He didn't have much of a singing voice, and even though Dr. Dobra said that it wasn't about one's voice quality, Richard thought it sure helped to have a voice like Sandra's.

Dr. Dobra had Richard stand, and then he played a note on the piano.

"Please sing an ascending major triad, with the given note as the root."

Richard hummed the note to himself quietly for a moment, and then sang the three notes. It was a little shaky, but not too bad. Dr. Dobra made some notation in his ledger.

After singing a few more chords and intervals, Dr. Dobra moved to the board and wrote out a melody.

Bastard! We haven't done almost anything with accidentals yet! Richard thought, noticing the one flatted note.

After he finished writing the melody out, Dr. Dobra played the first note for Richard.

The first interval was awkward. What key is this in, anyway? The first few notes indicated a G minor chord, but the rest seemed to be in F. But then what about that E-flat?

Panic began to return, as Richard tried to sing the melody inside his head. He had trouble getting the melody to make sense. He was just stabbing at intervals.

"Whenever you're ready," Dr. Dobra said, watching him expectantly.

Richard sighed, and began the melody. "Re, Si, Sol, Si..."

He didn't need to see Dr. Dobra's slight frown to know he was a bit lost on the melody. Anger welled up within Richard as he finished with an unconvincing note. He usually did so much better in class...

"Okay," Dr. Dobra said, as he again notated in his grade book. "If you'll wait a moment, I'll grade this for you now." He took up the paper with the intervals and dictations, and went through it. After a minute, he handed it to Richard.

"Here you go. Would you send Ethan in? If he's waiting, that is..."

"Yeah, sure," Richard said absently. His heart sank as he saw his exam score circled at the top. As he headed for the door, he glanced down the page. His melodic dictation had gotten no credit.

"Dr. Dobra?" he said, turning back to the piano.

"Yes?"

"Um ... On the melodic dictation, there's no partial credit or anything?"

"Part credit would apply, if part of the melody was correct."

"Oh. I thought I had the first half right, at least" Richard said, pointing to the phrase on his paper as he approached the piano bench.

Dr. Dobra frowned, not even looking at the exam Richard held out for him. "You started on a completely different note than what I said."

"But relatively, wasn't it right?" Richard pressed.

"Relatively?"

"Yeah, I mean, in this other key."

"Other key? I told you the key and starting note. You wrote something completely different."

"But..."

"Richard, I'm sorry, but what you wrote has minimal relation to what I played on the piano. I recommend you work harder on your ear training. Perhaps you can have Sandra help you."

"I usually don't have any problem," Richard said defensively, and pointed to the sight-singing example on the board. "That wasn't typical for what we did in class."

"And that," Dobra said, gesturing dismissively to Richard's still outstretched paper, "is not the work of someone who usually doesn't have any problem. I think you need to take this class more seriously. You still have three and a half more semesters, and they will not get any easier."

Richard stood stone still for a moment. "Okay, thanks," he said tersely, and then turned to leave.

"Richard," Dr. Dobra called out.

"Yeah."

"You may not think the exam to be fair, but I assure you, it is in line with what we did the first half of the semester."

Richard had been ready to let it go, but Dr. Dobra had reopened the conversation. He strode back to the piano, shaking his head at him, and letting the anger seep into his voice a little. "The examples in class almost never had accidentals, and they were more ... tonal than this one."

"This is not tonal?" Dr. Dobra said, playing the melody on the piano. He added a sparse chordal accompaniment, and Richard winced as the melody suddenly made sense to him.

Richard shrugged. "I guess it just threw me off," he said, less belligerently now. "You have to admit it wasn't standard."

Dr. Dobra shrugged. "Practice more, and less will throw you off. I'm running late, so..."

"I wish I had the time to practice more," Richard said, brushing aside Dr. Dobra's dismissal, "but I already spend a number of hours a week doing all this sight singing, and chord analysis, and ear training. I don't even know why we have to learn some of this stuff. How exactly does the sight-singing help me, as a pianist? Theory is not my major, you know," Richard added.

Thank god it's not... 

"Music theory is everyone's major," Dr. Dobra said simply. He went to the board and began to erase the melody written there.

"What?"

"Everyone who comes through this school takes at least two years of theory. If they are smart, they take three or four." Dr. Dobra rounded on Richard. "If it really is pointless, why would we make everyone take it?"

"Well, I didn't say pointless," Richard said.

Dr. Dobra chuckled almost good-naturedly, and that surprised Richard a little. He sat at the piano again.

"You're not the first to think that, Richard," he said. "I've heard it before. But I'll tell you, there will come a day when you see just how useful theory is. Depending on how seriously you take this class, and subsequent classes, when that time comes you will either be grateful that you learned 'this stuff, ' or you'll be kicking yourself for not having learned it."

Richard took a deep breath, and held out his paper once more. "Well, I guess I don't feel that this score is really where I'm at."

Dr. Dobra considered something for a moment, looking Richard in the eye. "Well, you have half a semester to prove that to me."

-------

When Richard returned to his room, the phone was ringing. Jer was reading on his bed, making no movement towards the phone.

"You don't answer anymore?" Richard asked him as the machine engaged.

"Nah. It's probably your dad."

Jer pointed with arched brow as the Italian voice filled the room through the small speaker.

"Hello, Riccardo, it's your father. Listen, I just spoke to Aunt Maria, and she is going to come visit next month. Your mother and I were talking, and we thought you could come back for Thanksgiving, if you have the time. Maria really would love to see you and hear you play the piano, since she has never heard you play. I don't have any jobs set for that week, so I can come pick you up. Maybe the school is closed? I don't know. Call me, please! Ciao."

Richard sighed heavily.

"Did he say something about coming home for Thanksgiving?" Jer asked.

"Yeah," Richard replied.

"Oh, calls it!" Jer exclaimed, stretching a fist to the air. "I think I'm starting to learn Italian!"

"Calls what?" Richard said, frowning deeply. "He said the word 'Thanksgiving', in English!"

"Well, when your dad talks English, it's still, uh, foreign sounding."

"Dude, you're retarded... !" Richard exclaimed, though he had to chuckle a little. Oddly, Jer had helped quell some of the anger at his midterm.

Jer yawned loudly and tossed his book randomly towards his desk. It was a little too strong of a throw, and the book landed on Richard's desk instead, scattering a bunch of pencils and papers.

"What the fuck, man?"

"Sorry," Jer said. He eventually straightened out Richard's stuff, and tossed his book onto his own desktop, more carefully this time.

"Hey, can I borrow your sight singing book?" he suddenly asked.

"What happened to yours?"

"I never had one," Jer said. "Figured I should practice for my midterm, though."

Richard gave Jer an incredulous look, and then shrugged and handed Jer the book. "How are you going to pass?"

"Eh, this stuff is easy for me. Besides, Anita has the hots for me," Jer said confidently.

"Anita?"

"Ms. Connelly."

"I know that," Richard said, rolling his eyes. "I was questioning the 'hots' part."

Jer shrugged. "Hey man, don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"I'm not really worried. You know, you're lucky you don't have Dobra for sight singing," Richard said.

"Yeah, so I've heard. Hey, I'm going to go warm up for the test. Thanks letting me borrow this," Jer said, indicating the book.

"No problem."

Richard sat heavily on his bed after Jer left, but before he had a chance to contemplate his exam, and his dad's message, someone knocked on the door.

"Yeah?"

Emily came in and sat next to him on the bed. "How did it go?"

"Not that great."

Richard recounted his exam session with Dobra.

"Ouch! Sounds like he was trying to be difficult."

"I got the feeling, though, that if I do well on the final, he won't count this test very heavily."

"Well, that's good at least."

Richard shrugged, but didn't add anything.

"Are you all right, otherwise?" Emily asked.

Richard let out a huff. "My dad just called. He wants me to come home for Thanksgiving after all."

"Oh. Well, you better go downstairs because Sandra is talking to her parents right now."

Richard turned to Emily. "I thought she was calling them tonight, after I called my folks to check with them!"

"She got excited."

Richard laughed. "That seems to be her thing, doesn't it? Come on."

Richard and Emily ran down the steps and went into the girls' room.

Sandra was indeed on the phone. When she turned to Richard and Emily, she grinned.

"Oh, I also wanted to ask you something about Thanksgiving," she spoke into the receiver.

Richard and Emily started waving their arms at her and mouthing 'Wait!'

"Um, actually, hold on a sec..." Sandra cupped the mouthpiece and frowned at them. "What's wrong?"

"Call them back in a bit, we need to talk," Richard said.

Sandra nodded, and then complied. After she hung up the phone, she turned back to Richard.

"What's up?"

"I have some bad news."

"What?" Sandra asked, concerned.

"My dad just called. He wants me to come back home for Thanksgiving."

Richard could see the disappointment flood through Sandra's eyes. As he tightened up, he felt his own disappointment coursing through him as well. I hate seeing her like this! he thought.

"Well, that's not bad news, Richard," Sandra said. "You should go be with your family."

Richard sighed. "I'd rather go to your place."

Sandra softened a little, and came close to him. "But if your parents invited you to go home, you should do that."

"I haven't actually called him back yet. Maybe I can say that I need to stay here, for school, but then go with you two."

Sandra smiled gently. "I'm tempted to say yes, but that's not right."

"I know, I know," Richard said, dejectedly. "The two of you will have so much fun, though!"

Emily put an arm around Richard. "We won't do anything too crazy, without you."

Richard smiled, but flashing through his head were images of them riding in the backs of guys' pickup trucks late at night, or skinny-dipping in lakes.

"I thought you said your parents weren't going to come pick you up?" Sandra asked. "Are you flying back home?"

"No, my dad's going to come out and get me. I guess my Aunt Maria, who lives in Italy, is coming to visit."

"Oh, well then you should definitely go back," Sandra said. "You probably don't see her that much."

"Every other summer. She's really a downer now, ever since my uncle died a few years ago. She just sits around in her black clothes and makes bitter comments about everything. Last summer, when we were at her place, it was really depressing to be around her."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that."

"It'll only be a few days," Richard said. A few long days, thinking about the two of you... 

The girls wrapped him up in their arms, but that only made him feel a little better.

"I guess I should go call him back," Richard said.

-------

Irina was immensely pleased. The last time she had seen a student make these strides was ... she wasn't sure, really.

She had judged Richard well, at his audition. Unlike some musicians who were placed with a great teacher early upon recognition of true talent, Richard had been limited by staying with his teacher through high school. It was common; most intermediate level teachers were unwilling to suggest that their prize students should move on to other teachers. It was both a loss of income and admission of some lack of competence, neither of which most musicians would care to allow.

Still, it was not too late. Richard was proving that he could fix the deficiencies in his technique, and his musicality was blossoming.

"Excellent, excellent!" she said, as Richard finished the section. He seemed surprised at her praise, but didn't say anything. He is even more quiet than usual today, for some reason,  Irina thought.

Irina returned to her seat, and watched him for a moment, nodding. "We should begin to work on the pieces for your recital," Irina said.

Richard frowned. "I thought I would play the Liszt."

"No, you are almost finished with that piece now. I thought you could play some of the Etudes."

Irina watched Richard's face light up slightly.

"Really?"

"Yes. Have you played some before?"

"Yes, Opus Ten, Number Three, and Opus Twenty-five, Number Ten. Oh, and also ... this one," he said, playing a few measures.

"Ah yes. Did you study those with your teacher?"

"Only the E major. The other two I just learned on my own."

"Then perhaps we can start with those two. They should not be too hard. Then we will learn some others."

"Which do you think?" Richard asked eagerly.

Irina pursed her lips. "Perhaps Numbers Seven and Eight from Opus Twenty-five."

Richard thought for a second, and then roughly played the melody of Number Eight. The other one seemed to elude him, though.

"I don't remember Number Seven, is it this one?" Richard played a different Etude.

"No. Let me show you." Irina stood, and Richard moved off the bench as she approached.

She was not surprised that he couldn't come up with the other one. It was among the least showy of the Etudes in terms of velocity or brilliance, which were the things young Richard was naturally more attracted to. Yet it was, for Irina, the most memorable of the set. And the challenges that the study presented were just what Richard needed.

She began the Etude, a melancholy statement in the low register which was so elusive. Twenty four simple notes, and yet so moving.

Irina had lost some of her touch on this Etude in the passing years, and yet the melody still sung plaintively.

For a while, Irina was no longer in the piano studio at Wexford, but back in Moscow at the conservatory, hidden away in a basement room, and playing this Etude for Harvey.

Before Harvey had entered her life, she knew only the notes of this piece. Like Richard, she had learned it away from the eyes of her teacher. So sure that she could put all the beauty of the world into the music, she only realized her naiveté when she returned to it after the incident.

Until then, she had just been a child. Girlish dreams of being swept away by a handsome prince had been both irrevocably shattered and unexpectedly realized, all at once.

"Now I remember it," Richard breathed, after she finished.

"It is not as easy as it sounds, perhaps," Irina said, as she returned to her chair.

"No, I can see where some of the things you have showed me would be important for maintaining the singing tone. That was beautiful. And so sad, too."

That sadness can come at a heavy price, Richard,  Irina thought.

"Let us not get ahead of ourselves," Irina said, gesturing for him to sit. "Do you remember the octave Etude?"

Richard shrugged. "I haven't tried it in a while, but I think I can play it."

"Do you want music?"

"Uh, sure ... Just in case."

Irina went to her shelves and pulled out a heavily worn copy of the pieces, and flipped to a page near the back.

"Don't worry about making mistakes," she assured him. "I just want to hear what you did on your own."

"It's probably all wrong," Richard said, chuckling slightly.

"Maybe," Irina said, smiling a little. "But you have a good capacity for improving."

Richard nodded thoughtfully, and then glanced over the first page before beginning.

As Irina expected, Richard was right, or rather, wrong. He had learned the piece with a limiting technique. That is the danger of playing these pieces without a teacher.

After he played a few measures of the slow middle section, Irina stopped him.

"All wrong?" Richard asked with a slight grin, before she could speak.

It was Irina's turn to chuckle. "Do you know what it is?"

Richard nodded. "As I looked at the music, I saw your fingerings."

Irina smiled. "And?"

"And I'm playing the octaves with just my pinky and thumb. I should be using my fourth finger as well?"

"Yes. And why?"

"So I can get them smooth from one to the other?"

Irina nodded. "Yes!"

"That seems very awkward," he said, trying the first phrase slowly, and stumbling over several of the octaves.

"At first, it will be difficult. You play it as well as can be played with the technique you used. But, the octaves are not legato that way, unless you are using the pedal. With the pedal they are all..."

"Washed out." Richard finished, nodding.

"Yes, exactly."

"Looks like I'll have to start over on this one," Richard said, though not glumly.

Irina laughed. "You can't reach the highest mountain peak directly from a nearby peak. You have to go down first."

Richard frowned at her. "Do you know any French Horn teachers in Washington D.C.?"

"No, why?"

Richard laughed. "My friend told me that her teacher said almost the exact same thing to her once."

"It is true," Irina said simply. "Learning music is not a steady uphill journey. Unless you stop learning."

Richard nodded, and then tried the new fingerings a few times at a very slow pace. Occasionally Irina made a suggestion with regard to arm position or finger placement, but with the numbers on the page, Richard didn't need much assistance at this stage.

"Okay, I'll work on that," Richard said at last.

"Good. That will be a powerful piece when you play it in April. Now, what about the Serenade? Do you have the music with you? I should make a photocopy."

"No, I didn't bring it, sorry."

"Bring it next week and we will see. It is a piano reduction of an orchestra score?"

"Yes. Just strings, actually."

"Perhaps you might work with Nelson on it," Irina said, half to herself.

"Nelson?"

"Nelson Jackson. He is the head of the collaborative piano department."

Richard nodded and wrote the name down on his notebook.

"I will talk to him this week," Irina said. "We can work on some of the pianistic difficulties, but he will be better for helping you with the accompaniment issues."

Richard frowned. "Like what?"

"Playing accompaniment is different than solo work. I have not done as much accompaniment as he has. But it is good to do it," she added.

"Have you heard the piece?" Richard asked.

Irina hesitated. "Only once, at a rehearsal," she said, smiling. "No, I do not know it very well."

"Okay. I think my friends will do a good job."

"I think they will, too." Irina looked at the clock. "I have kept you over again."

"That's okay, I don't have anything until one."

Richard collected his books and then shouldered his bag.

"Ah, Richard, one more thing. If you will be staying here for Thanksgiving, I would invite you to come to my house for dinner."

Richard's face betrayed consternation for a moment before he hid it.

"Um, thank you. I think I am going home, but I will let you know next week for sure."

Irina nodded. "Okay. Good work today."

Richard smiled half-heartedly. "Thank you."

-------

"You should totally go to your teacher's house!" Emily said. "That's what I would do."

Sandra was painting Emily's nails, while Richard sat at Emily's desk, head in his hands.

"Now you got out of going to see your Aunt," Sandra said.

"It wasn't that..."

"Come on, Richard. It was pretty obvious you didn't really want to see her for the whole weekend," Emily said.

"Well it's getting annoying to have to keep changing my plans," Richard groaned. "Who's going to invite me over next?"

"Aw, our baby is sooo popular!" Sandra said to Emily. They giggled.

"Go call your Dad, and tell him your teacher invited you," Emily said.

"Yeah. And if you are here that weekend," Sandra added, "maybe I'll get my dad to drive us back Saturday. Then we can spend all night Saturday and all day Sunday locked up in this room."

"Doing what?" Richard asked, perking up.

"Anything. Everything..."

"Everything? What's everything?"

"You'll just have to wait and see..." Sandra said, flashing him a flirtatious smile.

Richard jumped out of his chair. "I'll be back in a bit."

Emily and Sandra laughed as he rushed out of the room.

-------

"Papa?"

"Ei, Riccardo! How are you?"

"I'm okay."

"Tell me, did you find out if you have class on that Wednesday?"

"No I don't have class. But, I needed to tell you something else first."

"What?"

"Well, my teacher invited me to have Thanksgiving at her house."

There was a pause on the other end.

"Mrs. Tertychnaya?"

"Yes. With her family."

"That's good, no? What an honor!"

"Well, yeah, I guess it is. She is very happy with my work, I think."

"You should stay and have Thanksgiving there, then."

"But what about Aunt Maria? I already said I would come home. Mama will be disappointed, too."

"Riccardo, listen. We will miss you, of course. But right now, I want you to put your music first."

"But..."

"Before your family, even."

Richard paused. He suddenly felt bad. "That's not what you've always said."

"No, I've wanted this for you for so long," Vittorio said. "I've spent my life breaking my back on the scaffolding, ruining my hands so that you can use your hands for something far more beautiful. This is the time in your life where I still support you. Someday, when I get too old, that may change, but for now, you must use this time to move ahead, as fast as you can."

Richard was silent for a long time.

"Riccardo?"

"Yes."

"So you'll stay there then?"

"Yes, I will. Thank you, Papa."

"It's nothing."

"Oh, I have a date for my recital."

"Excellent. When is it?"

"April ninth."

"Good, good. I will write it on our calendar ... Let's see, April ... There, all done."

Richard smiled. In his mind he could see his father's rough print on the calendar of saints, the date circled several times.

"I would like it if you and Mama could come," Richard said.

"Of course, we will come. We would not miss it for anything."

Richard nodded, but felt a little too tight in his throat to speak.

"I have to go," he managed.

"Don't forget to practice hard."

"Yes."

"Ciao, Riccardo."

"Ciao."

Richard held the phone in his hand long after the disconnected tones began to pulse through the earpiece.



-------

Chapter 20: Passacaglia



"So what do you think of the piano sound?" Dave asked Richard.

Richard stood up from Jarrett's chair in front of the speakers. "It's really rich. I'm used to hearing this piano from the piano bench, so it sounds a little different. But still nice. Really nice."

"Good. I'm happy with it too. Man, I just love this concert hall. Jarrett, what do you think?"

"Smooth work, Dave. Let's record some so Irina can hear it," Jarrett replied.

Richard sat in his chair, to Jarrett's left, and double checked that the tapes were cued and ready. "I'm ready to go," he announced.

Jarrett pushed the button on the talkback microphone. "Irina?"

"Yes?"

"We will record a sound check. Please play for a few more minutes and then we will listen."

Richard started the tapes and wrote the take information on his log sheet, while Jarrett did the same. Dave sat in Jarrett's seat one last time and closed his eyes as he listened to the sound of the instrument.

So far, the recording session had been hard work, but lots of fun as well. That afternoon, Dave had rented a truck and Richard had helped him load up road cases with the needed equipment. The hall they chose for the recording was only twenty minutes from the conservatory, but the equipment would have been impossible to transport in a car, so the truck was chosen.

Since Richard had only worked in the Wexford control room, which was permanently set up, it was interesting to see how the recorders, speakers and microphones were all connected from scratch. Richard gained new appreciation for Dave as he explained why he set things up a certain way. The microphone preamps were set up on the stage, for example, which Dave said made for a quieter noise level.

Upon arrival at the hall earlier that day, Richard had been surprised to see Irina's piano, the one on which he took his lessons in her studio at the conservatory. The old worn instrument had been delivered earlier in the day, and had been tuned up before they arrived.

Richard figured that Irina was most comfortable with this instrument, but the piano also sounded incredible in the hall. Once the microphones were up and working, Dave had had Richard play the piano so that Dave could start working on the microphone placement. Freed from the confines of the small room at Wexford, each note sang out purely, supported by the reverberant space. Richard quickly lost himself in the playing, only snapping out of it when Dave would come out to adjust the microphones or preamp levels.

"That's great playing Richard. Maybe we should record you!" Dave said.

Richard chuckled modestly, and offered his assistance with the technical aspect of the setup.

"Nah, just keep playing," Dave said, waving a hand.

Once Irina had arrived, things became more businesslike. Dave stressed to Richard the importance of keeping the artist happy, and that meant being invisible as much as possible. Dave did say that having Richard play earlier had sped up the setup process significantly, and he was appreciative of that.

As Irina played for the sound check, Richard wondered if they'd really need all five evening sessions. It seemed like a long time just to record an hour of music.

When Irina finished playing, he paused the tapes, and cued up the main tape so Irina could listen to the playback. There seemed to be so many things to remember, what with the time sheets and playbacks and levels. I hope I don't screw this up!

Irina made the short walk from the stage to the makeshift control room, and Jarrett invited her to sit in the listening chair. When she was ready, Richard started the tape. While Jarrett and Dave took turns standing behind Irina, Richard sat still in his seat, not wanting to distract his teacher.

Irina listened closely to the sound check, and then nodded when it was finished.

"Yes, that is very nice. But something is not..." She paused.

"Yes?" Dave urged.

"I don't know what it is. What do you think, Richard?" Irina asked, turning to him.

"I like it," he said, concealing his surprise at having been asked his opinion. "On that last playback, though, I was wondering if there was a little too much ringing. Some parts seemed slightly washed out. Like here," he said, flipping to a spot in the score.

"Yes, that is what it is," Irina said slowly, nodding thoughtfully.

"I didn't know if it was the pedal or something," Richard said.

Irina frowned. "I could change that, but here I do not use the pedal and it still sounded that way."

"Let me make a microphone adjustment," Dave said. "It may be that the sound has a touch too much reverb from the hall. We can try it and listen to it."

Richard followed Irina and Dave out to the stage. Irina sat and played again, as Dave moved the microphones slightly lower and closer to the piano.

"Play for a few more minutes and then we'll listen."

Richard hurried to the control room to start the tapes, not needing to be told.

After Irina finished the same section, the verdict in the control room was that it was an improvement.

"Is that better?" Irina asked, as she came in.

"Listen and see," Dave said evenly, not wanting to color her opinion.

Irina smiled and sat in the chair. Again she listened intently.

Dave had explained the importance of getting the sound just right to Richard as they had adjusted the microphones and settings for the past few hours. Any regrets would be easier to fix now rather than later, he had explained. Richard was glad they were getting close to having things set.

"Excellent," Irina proclaimed as the section finished. "That seems to help, and I also will be careful not to overplay on those parts. I think that this is even better than our last CD."

"Good!" Dave said.

"A short break, and then we'll begin?" Jarrett suggested.

"I am ready now," Irina countered.

"Even better, then!" Jarrett said.

Richard took his place, and readied the tapes as Jarrett flipped the score back to the first movement. There was a sudden optimistic excitement in the room, as the session prepared to start in earnest.

"Richard, if you hear anything amiss, just say so," Jarrett said. "Don't be shy."

Dave laughed from his chair on Jarrett's other side. "Yeah, Jarrett needs all the help he can get!"

Richard tried not to laugh, out of respect. Even Jarrett chuckled a little, however, so Richard did as well. Dave and Jarrett were very laid back, and constantly cracking jokes. Even Irina seemed less formal at the session, Richard thought. Then again, we haven't started recording.

After checking that everything was ready for the last time, Dave gave Richard the go ahead, and he started the tapes. Jarrett checked with Irina to see that she was ready, and then spoke into the microphone again.

"Sonata, movement one, take one."

Here we go,  Richard thought, a rush of excitement flashing through him.

-------

Being tired from the first two late night recording sessions didn't mix well with Dr. Dobra's class, particularly with Richard seemingly called on to sing every in-class sight singing example.

While Dobra usually spread the torture around the class, keeping meticulous track in that annoying ledger of his, this week he had been focusing only on a few students. Richard noted with some disgust that he was in a select group that included Ethan Deerfield, who came to class about fifty percent of the time, and usually late at that. Richard had no idea how Ethan was still in the class.

Richard groaned as Dr. Dobra called him to the board.

"I guess it's 'Pick-on-the-class-retards' week," he whispered to Sandra, as he slowly got up.

She just offered him a sympathetic smile.

"Richard. Please write up on the board what I play on the piano," Dr. Dobra said.

Richard grimaced, tempted to write up 'What I Play On The Piano'. While the class would probably find it funny, he doubted Doberman would.

Usually everyone was allowed to work at their desks and then put up their work when called on. It was only when Dr. Dobra felt like making an example of someone that he had them go through the whole process in front of everyone. If he wasn't so tired, Richard might have been angry.

Despite a general fuzziness in his ears from the hours of intense listening the evening before, he made sure to listen carefully to the starting note and key that Dobra offered. Not doing so was deadly, as he had learned on his midterm.

Unfortunately, Dobra chose a difficult example, and Richard struggled with the melody. The three plays of the melody flew by before he could grasp at the notes. His memory of the tune faded quickly amid thoughts of sleep.

Blinking and looking at the board, he stifled a yawn as he tried to fill in the gaps in what he had written.

At last, he put the chalk down. "That's all I can do," he said.

Richard didn't have to look at Dobra's face to know that he wasn't impressed.

"I see," Dobra said simply. "Sandra, can you help Richard out?" he called to her.

Sandra came up to the board, and picked up the chalk from the tray. She gave Richard another sympathetic look, before fixing and completing the melody he had started. In a few places she hummed to herself, checking an interval or rhythm. She didn't even bring her paper up.

Richard didn't even know if she was right. He had forgotten the melody already.

"Yes, yes. Excellent, Sandra. You even caught the triplet rhythm there, yes," Dr. Dobra praised.

His tone of voice with her is always so different. Bastard...  Richard thought.

Dobra stood a moment longer admiring her work as if it were a fine painting.

It's just a fucking dictation, man!

"This is the type of thing we will be seeing on the final," he announced. "It's a little trickier than what we've been doing so far, so please examine it carefully. We will have a quiz next week. See you on Wednesday."

As Richard and Sandra started towards their seats to collect their things, Dr. Dobra signaled to them.

"Richard, Sandra, I need to speak with each of you for a moment. Er, do either of you have class right after this?"

"I don't," Sandra said.

"I do," Richard said.

"Would you mind waiting outside while I speak with Richard first?" he said to Sandra.

"Sure," she said.

Richard felt his stomach knot up. Richard stood idly while the class exited the room. At last the door closed and all was quiet.

Dr. Dobra turned from his ledger and looked at Richard seriously.

"I won't keep you long. I am strongly recommending that you find someone to help you with your ear training and sight singing. I never see you come to my office hours. Your performance since the midterm has not been that great."

"It's only been a week," Richard said. "I'm working on it."

Dr. Dobra seemed to see through Richard's words. "Only a week ... Only ... How many weeks are left in the semester, Richard?" Dobra made a show of counting the vertical lines in his ledger. "Five. In five weeks, you will be taking your final. I think you should consider the importance of each week that passes. You are running out of time."

Richard just nodded. It was all he could do to stay on his feet. "I'll find someone to work with. Maybe Sandra can help me."

Dobra frowned. "Perhaps. But you should probably choose someone who is..." He paused, and then waved his hand vaguely. "I am giving you as many opportunities to practice in class as I can. Clearly, you need to put more time in than that."

"Okay, I will."

Dr. Dobra gave Richard a long stare, and then nodded. "Please tell Sandra to come in, when you leave."

Richard gathered his things, and then left the room without a backward glance.

-------

Sandra stood up from the chair she was waiting in. "Everything all right?" she asked, concern on her face. Richard's face was drawn, and his eyes were heavy.

"Um, not really. He says I need to get help with ear training. Sounds like if I don't get my act together I'm not going to do well in the class. As in not pass the class."

"Oh no. Do you have to go to his office hours?"

"No way!" Richard said quietly, showing what emotion he could muster. "Let's talk later. You better get in there, or he'll be pissed."

"Okay. I'll see you after your English class?"

"No, I'm cutting, and going to go sleep. I'm about to pass out."

Sandra looked at him for a long moment, and then caressed his arm. "Okay."

"Come find me after you talk with him," Richard said.

"You'll be sleeping."

"No, you probably won't be in there long. Just come, please?"

"All right, I will."

Sandra smiled and slipped into the classroom, closing the door. Dr. Dobra was seated at the piano, playing some chords.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked, approaching the crook of the piano.

"Yes, Sandra."

"Is it about Richard?"

Dr. Dobra frowned. "Richard? No, no. It's about you. I was really impressed by your dictation skills today. Well, all semester really, but today's example was challenging, for sure. You seemed to have no trouble with it."

"I guess."

"You're too good to be in this class. I wanted to see if you were interested in moving up to the higher level class I am teaching."

"Um, I don't know. Don't I need to take the four semesters consecutively?"

Dr. Dobra smiled. "No, not necessarily. Did you take a theory placement exam when you came to audition?"

"I think so."

"Odd. They should have placed you in a higher class from the start. Well, it doesn't matter. You could still move up now, if you want to. You would finish your theory requirement a year earlier, which means you could go on to higher levels, or pursue other classes. It's a good idea; I strongly urge you to consider it."

"But ... won't I be missing a year of the basics?"

"I don't think you need it. Here, let's try something, just to be sure. Write down this melody. Key of A flat, in four-four."

Sandra hurried to the board and translated the details into music symbols.

"First note is middle C."

Dr. Dobra played a melody. It was longer and much more complex than the example from the class, and at first Sandra felt a little lost.

Instead of rushing to guess at the melody, though, she considered it carefully in her head. She replayed it, feeling the intervals and how they led through an imaginary accompaniment.

Dr. Dobra watched carefully. "Do you need more time before I play it again?" he asked, after she hadn't written more than the starting note.

"No, I just need to hear it once more."

Dr. Dobra nodded and played the melody again. This time it clicked for Sandra and she started to write. In a few moments, she had the first phrase notated. The second phrase started the same way, but then ... She needed the third listen.

Dr. Dobra played it once more, and Sandra finished writing the melody on the board. He watched as she put the last note in place, and nodded slowly.

"Hmm..."

"Is that even close?" Sandra asked.

"Oh yes, very close. There is just one mistake. Completely trivial, but you forgot a flat on your key signature."

Sandra frowned, and then laughed. "Oops." She added the fourth flat to the staff.

"Which is, of course, irrelevant," Dr. Dobra added, his voice excited. "Amazing. You are completely wasting your time in this class. That's an example of the melodies we do in fourth semester theory classes, and the students in there find it difficult."

Dr. Dobra sat at the piano again, with some excitement. "Here, try this harmonic dictation. Er, B-flat. Four-four. Four voices." He looked at Sandra with narrowed eyes.

"Um, okay, I'll try, but..."

She drew out the double staves with clefs and two flats on each, feeling a little nervous.

Dr. Dobra played the progression slowly. Sandra split her listening up between the voices, trying to capture the music and transform it into a chorus singing their parts. The bass part rises there, contrary to the melody ... The inner voices are in parallel here ... Ends on the ... five chord? Yes, there's a lack of resolution... 

"Is it too..." Dr. Dobra began to say after she stood still for a long moment without writing anything.

"Shh!" Sandra reacted before thinking. "Oh, sorry!" she squeaked, realizing she had just shushed a teacher.

Dr. Dobra waved her apology away and pointed to the board eagerly.

"I need to hear it again," she said.

"Well, of course!" Dr. Dobra said, and he played the chords again.

Sandra began to write. It was like she had a chorus at her command inside her mind. She told each section to sing its part a few times, and she merely copied down what they sang.

Dr. Dobra rose up from the piano bench slowly, and stood by her side as he watched her place the notes along the staff.

Sandra felt a little strange with him standing so close, but she finished the notation, filling in the last few gaps in the inner voices.

Dr. Dobra was speechless for a long moment as he examined the work. At last he turned to her.

"You've never had theory training?" he asked quietly.

"No."

"You got it right," he said simply. "I don't know how, but with only two listens, you got every note correct, even here. Do you even know what this chord is called?" he asked her, pointing to the penultimate beat.

"Um, no. I guess it's ... F-sharp seventh?"

Dr. Dobra laughed gently. "Well, yes and no. I can tell that you haven't had training. You have the notation of someone who has not been trained. Which is to be expected, of course! But your ear is exceptional."

"So if it's not an F-sharp seventh, then what is it?" Sandra asked, ignoring Dr. Dobra's praise.

"It doesn't matter for now. The terminology will be something you need to learn. But in a way, you don't need it."

"What do you mean?" Sandra asked.

"Many people learn to recognize things through the terms they have learned. We spend weeks at a time here at Wexford drilling into people what this and that chord, interval, progression, et cetera, is ... What they sound like. The hope is that they when they hear that same chord later, whether on the final exam or in their careers, they will say, 'Ah! A such-and-such chord! I know how that fits in this key.' And then they can spell out the notes."

Dr. Dobra pointed out the chord they had just been discussing. "Most students in my fourth semester class will hear this progression, and recognize that there's an augmented sixth chord there. Then they will back out, and think of which notes spell an augmented sixth chord in this key. They'll write it down. Sometimes ... But there's a big separation between the music and the product, see? Since they learned exactly what an augmented sixth chord means, once they recognize it, they don't need to hear the individual notes. So in a way, they are regurgitating things from rote and repetition."

"That's not really what I did," Sandra said slowly. "I don't even know what that chord is."

"Exactly! Which shows me that you have a really good ear. It makes sense that you are a singer, since you wrote down everything in melodic fashion, rather than each chord at a time."

"I guess I do hear these things as melodies that are intertwined," Sandra said.

"Yes, yes. Now, I think with a little extra catch up work, you could easily skip two semesters of theory. Basically, you just need to learn some of the conventions, and then you'll be right on track." Dr. Dobra said. "Ahead of track, to be honest," he added, pointing to the board.

"Like what conventions?"

"This chord we were talking about should really have a G-flat in the bass, rather than F-sharp."

"Isn't that the same thing?" Sandra asked, frowning.

"Ah, no. If you were singing in the key of C, would it be the same if all the Cs were written as B-sharps? Same note, of course, but..."

"Hmm. I guess ... But in this case, the note isn't even in the key, so how do you even decide?" Sandra asked.

"I know, Sandra," Dr. Dobra said, chuckling. "In some ways, the music transcends all this nonsense. Like I said already, you don't really need it. Terminology serves to bridge the gap between music and notation for us lesser mortals. But it also serves to let us talk about music on common ground. As you encounter more complex music, terminology can make a difference in interpretation. A C-sharp going up is not the same pitch as a D-flat going down, unless you play the piano."

"Mmm..." That made sense to Sandra, from her singing experience. She took a deep breath. "So would I switch classes now, or next semester?"

"I think now would make sense. Otherwise you will waste your time here for another month. Are you free from three to four during the week?"

"Um, yes, except Friday."

"Perfect. The class runs Monday through Thursday."

"Oh ... So it's twice as many classes?"

"No, no, you'll switch out of the analysis class too. They go hand in hand. I think that is the class where you will actually need to make up more ground, since it is more technical in nature. You'll need to learn the chord names and inversions and such. I don't anticipate any problems at all in the ear training and sight singing class."

"Oh, okay. How will I make up the material, though?"

"I'll be happy to meet with you weekly to catch you up on what you need. A little work now, and you will save yourself a year of theory classes," Dr. Dobra said.

"What about the final exam?" Sandra asked. "I mean, I only have four or five weeks. All the material will be new."

Dr. Dobra smiled. "Don't worry about the final. I'll take into account the switch, of course. Besides, five weeks is a lot of time. I'm sure we can cover plenty of ground in that time."

Sandra nodded. "Wow ... So do I need to do anything with the registrar?"

"I'll go down there now and switch you over, so don't worry about it. Just come to class here at three instead of one, from now on."

"And what about meeting for review?"

"Let me look at my schedule and I'll let you know tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Good. Are you okay?" he asked.

"It's a little overwhelming," Sandra admitted.

"Don't worry. You will be fine. I promise," Dr. Dobra said.

-------

Sandra pushed the door open to her room. Emily was at her desk, working out chord progressions.

"Hey. How was class?" Emily asked.

"Fine. Dobra picked on Richard again."

"That sucks. Is Richard all pissed off?"

"No," Sandra said. "He's sleeping. I just went to his room, and he was out cold. Too many late nights at the recording session."

"And not with us," Emily lamented. "But I know how much he wanted to do this, it being his teacher and all."

"So Dobra wants me to move up two semesters in theory classes," Sandra announced.

"Really? That's way cool. How did that happen?"

"He gave me a little test after class, and then offered. He said I was too advanced for first semester theory."

"That's pretty sweet. You'll be done with theory after this year then. Wish I could do that!"

"It's going to be work, though. I have to learn all this extra stuff I'll be missing in the jump."

"Still, you take a year of those classes off your requirements."

"Yeah, that's what Dobra said too."

"Richard will miss you, though," Emily said. "Sounds like you're the only reason he still suffers through the hour."

"Yeah, I thought of that," Sandra said with a sigh. "But Dobra said I was wasting my time, and if I switch now, I can get credit for the upper level class right off the bat. Well, I'm going to go practice, so we can hopefully all eat dinner before Richard heads out to the recording tonight."

"I can move downstairs if you want to practice in the room," Emily offered.

"Nah, I'll go find a room in the building. Thanks, though. See you later."

-------

Richard wiped the sleep from his eyes as he tried to figure out what that noise was. As his ears opened up from sleep, the whooshing sounds became soft raps on his door. He glanced outside, surprised to see that it was getting dark. He shot up in panic, worried that he'd slept through the time when Dave was going to pick him up.

"Who is it?" he called frantically, peering at his watch as he pulled his pants on.

"It's us!" Emily said.

Luckily there was still a half-hour until he was meeting Dave in the lot.

"Dinner time," Sandra added.

"Coming."

Richard threw on his shoes, grabbed his keys and stumbled to the door.

"Good morning," Emily said cheerily.

"Yeah, right," Richard said. "I wish it was morning. I still feel beat."

"You probably need some food in you," Emily said, and pulled him out of the doorframe.

"I thought I overslept."

"We wouldn't let you do that!" Emily said.

"Oh. Okay. Thanks."

"Come on. There's not that much time."

Richard nodded and followed the girls to the stairwell. On the walk to the cafeteria, he noted that Sandra was rather quiet.

"Sorry I fell asleep," Richard said to her once they had found some food and a table.

"You looked like you needed it. I figured you'd be out before you hit the bed," Sandra said.

"Yeah, I was. Man, this recording thing is a lot of work! Mostly we just sit there and listen, but it's still intense. I have to concentrate to make sure everything gets notated, and the tapes are working, and Jarrett also has me helping him keep an eye on the music, and ... Well, I've told you all this already."

"Are you still enjoying it?" Emily asked.

"Yeah, it's really interesting," Richard said. "It's a little hard to see the final product, just because there's so much jumping around covering different sections of the music. It seems like a weird way to record, but that's the way it's done, I guess."

"You seem really tired, though," Emily said.

"I am. I could barely stay awake in Dobra's class today. Hey, what did he want with you?" Richard asked Sandra.

Sandra hesitated a moment. "He wants me to move up to a different class."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He thinks this class is too easy for me."

"Hmm. Are you going to do it?"

"I think so."

"Oh no! You're leaving me alone with him?" Richard exclaimed, trying to laugh.

Sandra slumped a little. "I know, I know. But he thought I should move to the third semester class. I'd finish my theory requirement a year earlier that way."

"Third semester? Whoa! How are you going to learn all the stuff you are skipping?"

"He's going to help me learn it outside of class."

Richard frowned at her. "What?"

"Like in office hours. He'll teach me what I need, from the two semesters I am skipping."

"That sounds weird."

"Why?" Sandra asked him.

"Because he's doing nothing to help me. But with you, you know..." Richard shrugged dramatically.

"With me what?" she pressed.

"I don't know. All I remember is what Jenna said about him and pretty girls."

"You think he's doing this because of that?" Sandra asked, frowning.

"I don't know. I mean, either you're ready to move up, or you're not. But now you have to have all these teaching sessions with him? Sounds like he's up to something. Do you think you can handle the material, anyway? That's a lot of stuff you have to cover. Just today he was telling me how little time is left in the semester."

"He promised that I wouldn't have to worry about the grade on the final. He said he'd help me out."

"God, that sounds like such a set up!" Richard said darkly.

"Richard, come on! He thinks I can do it," Sandra said. Her voice was a bit heated. "I don't see why you think this is about my looks."

"How come he's only nice to you? He has this total reputation for being a dick. Everyone knows it. Everyone says he's got a soft spot for good looking female students. I mean, what happens when you get to the end of semester and you can't do well on the final? Is he going to get weird on you? Blackmail you for a good grade?"

She watched Richard open-mouthed. "I can't believe this!"

Emily was quiet until then. "Richard, maybe you should..."

"Emily, stay out," he said. "I just think this is a bad idea. It just seems really convenient for him. I don't see Jonathan, or whatever his name is getting asked to move up, and he does just as well as you in class."

Sandra was distraught. "Richard," she pleaded.

"What? I'm just saying ... It sounds really weird."

He took his last bite of food. Emily was just looking at him. Sandra appeared on the verge of tears, as she fidgeted with her utensils and stared at her plate.

"I just think it's strange," he added, a little less excited. "That guy is a dick. I don't trust him."

"Maybe if you spent some time actually working on the class material, you'd feel differently," Sandra said quietly.

Richard raised a brow, and then dropped his fork on the plate. He stood up and grabbed his tray. "I'm late. I have to go," he said tersely.

Emily put an arm around Sandra as Richard stormed off. The anger in his voice as he gave his farewell was unmistakable.

"Oh shit," Sandra said, sinking into the chair. "I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have said that..."

Emily pulled her a little closer. "I don't know, Sandra ... Maybe you should have."

-------

The recording session that night was difficult. There was some extraneous noise on the system when Dave turned everything on, and it took a good hour to trace it to a power supply that was malfunctioning. It set everyone a little bit on edge, including the normally laid back Dave.

To add to the stress, Irina was feeling somewhat ill, and was not at her top performance level. After three takes of the third movement of one piece, she declared herself unable to give a good performance of it.

A few attempts were made at another piece, but those also got off to a bad start when Richard forgot to roll tapes during the first take. The performance was lost, even if it was also questionable.

The others were understanding, but Richard felt horrible. The hollowness in his stomach, which had started with his meeting with Dobra that afternoon, and had been amplified by the disastrous dinner with Sandra, was now so tight that he had to sit slightly doubled over just to be able to think straight.

Mercifully, after a few more failed takes of the piece Richard had missed recording, Irina called it a night. Dave and Jarrett went out to talk with her on stage, while Richard shut down the system and prepared things for the next session, in two days. There was a night off tomorrow, which was unimaginably welcome.

When he had everything in the control room taken care of, he fell heavily into the couch at one end of the room. Despite his nap, he was still exhausted, both mentally and physically. Worry over Sandra's situation was gnawing at him constantly.

When Dave returned to the control room, he glanced at Richard knowingly.

"You look beat, Richard."

"I am," he admitted. "I think everything is ready for Wednesday, though."

"Ah, okay. Listen, Irina and I were just talking, and since things went so slow tonight, we're going to have to record some tomorrow night to catch up."

"Oh. Okay." Richard felt the earlier relief slipping away.

"I'm probably going to get someone else to assist for the rest of the sessions, though," Dave said carefully.

"Really? I'll be okay. I just need to sleep a little."

"No, Richard, you can't."

"Is it because of the tape thing, earlier?"

"No, absolutely not. That happens. It's not the end of the world. But you have to keep up your practice, and your school. I feel partly to blame here, since I put a lot on you at this session. Plus, the hours got moved longer and later, last minute, since we couldn't have the hall next weekend. Irina agrees with me on this one too. I know you aren't having your lesson this week, but that doesn't mean she's not expecting you to practice."

Richard took a deep breath. "I know. But I can make it to the end of the week. I'd like to finish the job."

Dave held out a hand to him. "Come on. Let's start the drive back, and we can talk."

After grabbing their things in silence, they locked up the hall and got in Dave's car. The cold air seemed to wake Richard a little.

"I am tired, and I've probably not practiced as much as normal," Richard said. "But, I've gotten attached to the project now, you know?"

"I know, Richard. But as your supervisor, I can't let you focus on work at the expense of your school, even if this is an out-of-school job. Like I said, Irina thinks the same. She says that you have done a really good job in the control room, but we both agreed you looked too tired today."

Richard's thoughts swirled. Rather than discussing the session, they were talking about me,  he thought, somewhat amazed.

"Well, I don't want to do a bad job like tonight," he finally said, "so I guess you should get someone else."

"You didn't do a bad job. Don't beat yourself up over it. I've done worse when I was starting out. Erased tapes by mistake, even missed a gig altogether once, because I forgot to write it in my new calendar. Believe me, that sucks," Dave said, with a lighthearted laugh.

"What happened?"

"When I missed the gig? It didn't get recorded. It was someone's high school senior recital."

"Didn't they call you when you didn't show up to set everything up?"

"No, it was an auditorium that had everything set up already, and they thought I was in the control room. Turns out someone else was up there duplicating some cassettes. They didn't know until they called the next day to come pick up the tapes."

"Wow. They probably weren't too happy."

"Nope. Definitely not. Your child only has one senior recital, you know! But I learned from it, believe me. Never missed another gig since." Dave laughed. "So don't sweat the tape thing anymore. It's no big deal."

"All right."

"So. I'm going to get someone to assist tomorrow night, and probably for the rest of the sessions. But, if you are interested, I can have you help on the editing if you want. The hours will be much more flexible, and it's much more laid back. That way you can still have a hand in the project."

Richard brightened up at this. "Yeah. I mean, that sounds great."

"Plus with your ear, you would probably be good at editing, and maybe catch a few things that Jarrett might miss."

Richard felt a little surge at Dave's honest words and confidence in his abilities. With all the joking around that Jarrett and Dave did, it was nice to know that they weren't kidding when they said Richard was a helpful addition to the team.

"I'll give it a shot."

"Good. So we're settled then."

Richard watched the city roll by, and soon the streets grew familiar as they approached the arts district where Wexford was situated. Despite wanting to continue the sessions for sake of pride, he actually felt relieved that he was not going to be up late the next three nights. Maybe he could get back on schedule with his practicing.

-------

The next day, Richard was sick when he woke up. Whether he got what Irina had, or something from the cafeteria food, he didn't know. He did know he couldn't go to class.

Ominously, there was no call or note from Sandra or Emily when he had arrived late the night before, and if they had knocked for breakfast that morning, he had slept through it.

A little after eleven, he was roused by a thump on his door. His head was spinning as he stumbled to the door and peered through the peephole. It was Emily.

He pulled the door open. "Hey."

"You missed class ... Oh no, are you sick?" Emily asked.

"Yeah, feeling pretty shitty."

Emily started towards him.

"No, don't," Richard warned. "I might have gotten this from Irina. She was sick last night."

Emily considered, and then backed off. "How did it go?"

"Like crap. Irina was not playing well ... I forgot to start tapes once ... Some equipment died..."

"Sorry."

He shrugged. "I'm not going back for the rest of the sessions."

Emily frowned. "Why not?"

"Dave thought I needed to focus on school, and that I looked too tired."

"Looks like he was right," she said, looking him over.

"Yeah, I guess so."

There was a silence.

"Is Sandra..." Richard asked vaguely.

"She's still pretty upset."

"Oh. Is she still going to move to the other class?"

"I don't know."

"Don't you think it's weird?"

Emily glanced around evasively. "Uh, well, you should really work this out with her, Richard. I don't want to be in the middle."

"But tell me what you think? Am I in the wrong here?" he pressed.

"I don't know. I haven't seen Sandra in Dobra's class, but she says that he seems to think she's really good."

"Yeah, and really hot too. Jeez, I hate that guy!"

"Well, we're going to go eat lunch," Emily said quickly. "Do you want me to bring you back anything?"

"No, I'm not hungry. I'm probably just going to sleep all day and get rid of this thing."

Emily nodded. "All right. I'll come check on you later."

Richard nodded, and then closed the door. It was difficult to fall asleep, since his head was a swirl of unresolved thoughts.

-------

A brief check from Emily was the only company Richard had the rest of that day. She left after Richard tried again to engage her on the subject of Sandra's situation.

The next morning, Richard's head was still a little woozy, but he was hungry, and feeling well enough to eat. Richard ran into Sandra as he was headed towards the cafeteria. She was returning from German class.

"Hi," Sandra said evenly.

"Hi. How was class?" Richard asked.

"It was fine, whatever."

"Do you want to walk to the cafeteria with me?"

"Okay."

They set off together at a slow pace.

"I'm sorry about dinner last night," Richard said immediately.

"Me too."

"Are you still moving up to the new class?" he asked.

Sandra braced slightly at the question. "Yeah."

"Look, I'm not trying to keep you from going to another class, but I just think Dobra is doing something weird."

"Why do you say that?" Her voice was already a little irritated, and unfortunately Richard didn't back off.

"Because if you move up a class, you shouldn't have to go see the teacher for all this make up work."

"Why not?"

"Because then it's like you're taking the lower level class, but outside of class. What's the point?"

"So you're saying I'm not capable?" Sandra asked.

"I don't know. I don't think you know, either. Dobra could just be doing this to get you to come to his office!" he exclaimed.

"Oh Richard, please!"

"Come on, you hear all the time about teachers who make their students do weird things or else they fail them. I'm just looking out for you."

"Looking out for me?" Sandra said heatedly. "You should look out for yourself! You barely ever do any work for that class. No offence, but the example yesterday wasn't that hard. You were like a zombie up there. I felt sorry for you, and I hated that he called me up to fix your work."

"You could have at least messed up a little, instead of making me look bad," Richard countered.

"Oh god..." Sandra said, exasperated. She stopped in the middle of the lawn they were crossing. "Is that what..."

"What?"

"Oh, just forget it!"

"Okay, so you can do the ear training in this class. So what? It's easy stuff. And yeah, you're right, I'm not putting effort into the class. I don't see what the point is, really. I just want to get by and pass the class. I'd rather practice piano than sing stupid melodies all day long. And if I did put the effort in, I'd do just as well as you. But you know what? I bet you whatever you want, that Dobra wouldn't come running to me to get me to come to office hours every week and move me up two classes, no matter how well I did in the class. Because I'm a guy."

"Richard..." Sandra said, sadness in her voice.

"Haven't you at least considered that he's put you in an awkward position? He said he promised you that he wouldn't grade you badly on the final. What does that mean? If you can't do the hard stuff he'll make you give him sexual favors?"

"Richard..." Sandra repeated, tears on her face now. "Why are you doing this?"

Richard dropped his book bag to the ground, and then threw his hands up in the air, spinning around on the grass. "I don't know. I don't know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be talking to you right now. I'm tired, sick, overworked, and feeling generally shitty. Fuck!"

"Just relax? Please?" she pleaded gently, still crying. "Can we just talk about this reasonably?"

He slumped to the ground. "I can't right now. Just leave me alone for a while, because I'm being stupid. I'm sorry. I'm just messed up right now."

"I'll stay with you ... All morning, if you want."

"No. Please, just let me work this out on my own, before I lose it again. Just go."

Sandra stifled some sobs and then ran away towards the dorm. Richard watched her go, shedding tears of his own.

-------

Later that day, Richard sat in his usual spot for theory. He had decided, during his time sulking on the grass, that he needed to turn the leaf in Dobra's class, as much as he didn't want to attend. He still couldn't feel good about Sandra's situation, though, no matter how he spun it.

He looked at Sandra's seat, and felt a pang of remorse. Why does she need to skip two semesters of theory? Just so Dobra can spend some time with her, that's why,  Richard thought. But I shouldn't have been so goddamn insensitive about it... 

It was going to be a long five weeks, sitting alone in the back corner. It might even be a long hour, if Dobra decides to pick on me again, today. At least Ethan is here on time.

Suddenly, there was movement beside him, and Richard looked up in shock to see Sandra sitting down in her usual seat. She gave him an emotionless look before she turned her attention to Dr. Dobra, who was just beginning to speak.

Richard wondered what had happened. A few hours earlier, Sandra had been pretty clear that she was going forward with it. Why is she here? Is she going to take both classes?

Within five minutes, Richard couldn't stand it any longer. He wrote a note out: 'What happened? I thought you were moving to the other class?'

He passed it to Sandra when Dobra had his back to the class. She read it, and responded underneath his writing.

'I thought about what you said. Maybe you were right, ' she wrote.

'About Dobra?'

'Yeah, and about it being a lot of work. And that maybe I'm not good enough at ear training to move up that much.'

Richard flinched when he read that. Even though writing carried no tone, he could tell he had hurt her with those words.

'I didn't mean to say that you weren't good at it, ' he wrote.

Sandra read his note, and then slipped the paper into her notebook. She turned to Richard and shrugged slightly. Then her attention was on the front of the class again.

Richard leaned over to whisper to her, but Dr. Dobra caught the movement out of the corner of his eye.

"Richard, please refrain from disturbing your classmates with talking during class. Please."

Richard sat back in his chair, feeling his face heat up. Even though Dobra's admonishment was not as harsh as usual, Richard began to wonder if he'd ever be in Dobra's good eye.

Sandra ignored Richard for the remainder of the class period. For some reason, Dobra didn't call on Richard at all, and seemed to pick on other hapless students instead. He called on Sandra to sing an example, which was quite simple. As usual, she sang it quite nicely, but Richard could tell her heart wasn't in it.

Towards the end of class, Richard was not surprised when Dobra asked Sandra to come to the board. So he can leer at her some more,  he wondered?

"Melodic dictation. F-sharp minor, three-four time. First note is A, above middle C."

A surprised murmur went through the class, as everyone recognized the key to be out of the ordinary. Sandra made no move to notate the time or key signature, but instead stared at Dr. Dobra. He didn't acknowledge her look as he turned to the keyboard.

The murmur quickly turned into stunned silence as everyone listened to the melody that Dobra played. Long, chromatic, and unwieldy, it was completely different than anything he had ever foisted on the class, let alone someone exposed at the board.

Dobra finished, and turned to her. Richard watched intently as Sandra looked at her teacher with questioning eyes. There was a moment of communication between them which Richard could no more decipher than he could the melody Dobra had just played.

Sandra turned to the board and slowly put up the first note, and then the key signature and time signature as Dobra had indicated earlier. Then she stopped and looked at him again.

Richard almost got out of his chair, in anger. He's humiliating her in front of the class because she wouldn't do what he said! How can he give her this impossible melody?

Look at her, you bastard! It took all his willpower not to march to the front of the room and ... and do something. He didn't know what.

Dobra played the melody a second time. Richard gripped his chair tightly, trying to send Sandra whatever support he could. She seemed somewhere other than in the classroom at that moment.

This time, Dr. Dobra turned fully around on his bench and folded his arms expectantly. The pose was so arrogant, Richard thought. At the first sign of emotion from Sandra, he was going to go to the front of the class and tell Dr. Dobra exactly what he thought of him. Even if it meant being kicked out of the class.

After what seemed an eternity, Sandra turned to the board and raised the chalk. Richard let out the breath he had been holding.

No...  There was no way...

Sandra began to write. Richard watched as the notes went up one by one, almost reluctantly. As they revealed themselves, an icy chill ran down his spine. He didn't know if they were right, since he'd hardly paid attention to the melody except to recognize its complexity. But the way Sandra was deliberately writing them, he knew she wasn't just guessing at the melody. Complex rhythms and accidentals were not just guessed at.

Richard sat, along with the rest of the class, in utter silence as Sandra finished the long melody, taking up two long lines of staff.

Dr. Dobra stood up, and scanned the music as Sandra stood aside, fidgeting with the chalk.

He turned to her, at last.

"Very good," he said quietly, with an almost emotional voice.

The class let out a collective breath and stamped their feet, a gesture of genuine respect for Sandra. She replaced the chalk in the tray and walked to her desk. As she collected her things, she gave Richard a stricken look, her eyes watery. Then she turned and walked out of the classroom.

"Class dismissed," Dr. Dobra announced quietly from the front of the room.

No one said anything to Richard, not even Dr. Dobra, who was the last to leave the classroom, save for Richard. He just sat there for a long time, astounded and completely bewildered.

-------

Richard could honestly say he hadn't felt like such an asshole ever before. Somehow he had let his hatred of Dr. Dobra take hold of his senses, and in the process had deeply hurt Sandra. Her look, right before she had left the classroom, had been like a stab through his heart.

What should have been a natural and wonderful promotion to a better theory course for her, was ruined by Richard's insensitive actions. Worst of all, she had then rejected Dr. Dobra's offer because she second-guessed her own talents based on Richard's baseless comments.

Richard felt quite small.

As he stared off at the blackboard, where Sandra's seemingly impossible feat was still written, the classroom door opened again.

Dr. Dobra entered, and was surprised to find Richard still seated in the chair. Richard was also surprised to see his teacher return, ten minutes after leaving.

"I forgot my favorite pen. Red, naturally," Dr. Dobra said, laughing a little, as he collected it from the piano.

When Richard didn't even move, Dr. Dobra frowned at him.

"Don't worry, nothing like that will be on the final. For this class, anyway."

"Why did you do that?" Richard asked him.

Dr. Dobra looked at Richard levelly. "Do what?"

"Put her on the spot like that."

"Because she shouldn't be in this class."

"Were you getting back at her because she didn't agree to move up to the higher level class?"

"Getting back at her... ?" Dr. Dobra echoed quietly, before letting out a sigh.

He walked over to where Richard was, and sat in Sandra's chair, turning it some so he could face Richard.

"You and Sandra are good friends, I gather?" he asked. His voice carried none of its usual intensity.

"Yes, we are."

"Then you obviously want what's best for her."

"Of course."

"Perhaps you can help her to see what's right. Despite what you may or may not think, I want what's best for her, too. Clearly, she told you that I asked her to move up to a higher theory class?"

Richard nodded.

"For some reason," Dr. Dobra continued, "this morning she changed her mind, and decided she just wanted to stay here, and go through the regular sequence of classes. She didn't think she was ready for the higher level classes. Or so she explained in her note."

Richard stayed silent, guilt creeping through him again.

"That is unacceptable to me," Dr. Dobra said, his voice hard for a moment. "That would be like you telling me you wanted to keep taking piano lessons with your elementary school band teacher. No disrespect to band teachers, but that's completely unacceptable, for someone of your talent. You wouldn't be here, otherwise. Either that, or the band teacher would not be at an elementary school."

Richard shrugged. "How did she do that?" he asked, pointing to the board.

"She has a talent that no one else in this room has. Not you, not any of the other students. And no, not even I have it. She is just learning to use it. I don't even know how deep it runs."

"I didn't know. She never said anything," Richard said distantly.

"She doesn't really know, either. Her talent is raw, unrefined, but immense. This is the kind of talent which the world's greatest conductors display, for example. The 'walking ears' of the world, those who can hear music once, and know it inside of them like they've lived with it their whole lives.

"I've wondered about her over the course of this semester," Dr. Dobra continued, "but it wasn't until the midterm, when she wrote the melodic dictation correctly on first listen, that I knew she wasn't just a hard worker. Which, of course, she is, but her abilities go far deeper than just hard work."

"I still can't believe she did that," Richard said, looking at the melody again. "Did she really get it all right?"

"Every note and every rhythm, perfectly. Only hearing it twice, no less. And it's not an easy melody, as you can see. It's beyond what we even give to our fourth semester classes here. And she is probably capable of much more with just a little more training."

Richard shook his head in amazement. "So what about the workload? She was worried that it would take a lot to catch up."

"No, I don't think so. She just needs to learn the vocabulary and customs of music theory."

"Does she really need to?"

Dr. Dobra laughed. "For her own musicianship, probably not. She has an understanding of music which is different than what most of the rest of us have, studied as we are. But, it is still necessary to communicate. Both ways. Should she ever compose, or conduct, she will be communicating music to others, who need to see it written the way that they expect to see it written."

Richard nodded. "I was going to ask her for help with this class, but it sounds like she's going to have work to do of her own now."

"If she decides to move up," Dr. Dobra reminded.

"She will," Richard said, life returning to his voice. "If I had known..."

"Known?"

"I would have helped her to do it. I'll talk with her today."

Dr. Dobra sized Richard up, and then nodded. "I understand."

Richard frowned at him for a moment, unsure as to what he meant.

"She may still benefit from helping you," Dr. Dobra added. "Sometimes teaching something is the fastest way to learn it well ... But if not, you are always welcome to my office hours."

Richard shrugged. "I'll admit that I've not done my best in this class."

"I'll give you that," Dr. Dobra agreed.

"Can I still pass?"

He smiled. "Contrary to popular opinion, I'm not a complete..." He looked around the room, and then continued. "well, you-know-what. I reward two things: talent, and hard work. However, the first almost never comes through without the second. You have shown some talent in this class, Richard, but minimal work. Sandra, who I think we can now agree has immeasurable talent, has put in many times the work you have put in to the class. Her rewards are correspondingly larger."

Richard conceded with a nod.

Dr. Dobra continued. "I believe at your midterm we had a discussion, and I told you that you still had half a semester to prove your talent to me, through hard work. Now we are down to five weeks. Is that enough time?"

"I hope so."

"It's up to you," Dr. Dobra said, smiling a little.

Richard nodded again. "All right. Thanks."

"See you next week," he said, as he grabbed his red pen and departed.

Richard stood up abruptly and gathered his backpack. English was half finished by now, and it would be useless to go. Besides, there was something much more important to do.



-------

Chapter 21: Canon


Richard was painfully nervous when he knocked on Sandra and Emily's door. He heard talking as he leaned close to the door, but there was no answer after he knocked. Only silence.

"Sandra, Emily. Open up, please. I need to talk to you," Richard called through the door.

There was another silent moment, and then Richard heard the door unlatch. Emily pulled it open, and slipped out into the hallway.

"She's pretty upset right now," Emily said quietly.

"I know. I feel really bad. I messed up, and said some things I shouldn't have," Richard said earnestly.

Emily nodded. "Just be nice? I'm going to watch some TV downstairs."

"Okay. Thanks."

Emily smiled with some relief, and gave Richard a quick hug.

Richard slipped into the room and shut the door quietly. Sandra was lying on her bed, staring at the wall. Richard felt a wave of emotion rush through him. I've made her so sad!

He sat gingerly on the edge of her bed, and just watched her shoulders moving for a while. He was surprised when she spoke.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Richard was speechless. She had spoken only the truth to him, and he had been completely insensitive. Why was she apologizing to him? Fear gripped him as he wondered what she meant. Was it over?

"Sorry?" he repeated quietly. "Why?"

"This whole thing should never have happened."

Richard again panicked, wondering if she meant the situation with Dr. Dobra... or their relationship.

"I'm the one who should be apologizing," Richard said. "Not you. I don't know why I didn't trust you. Well, I do know why. Because I was mad at Dr. Dobra."

Richard put a tentative hand on her shoulder. "I feel really bad about what I said earlier, and yesterday. I had no idea you could do that. I mean, I knew you were good in class, but what you did today..." Richard shook his head again in wonder. "That was amazing. I'm sorry I didn't trust you."

"I'm not mad at you, Richard," Sandra said softly.

"Okay, but..."

"I'm just sad that we said those things to each other. And in that way."

"You were right, though, and I wasn't," Richard said.

Sandra turned her head away from the wall and looked movingly at Richard. She let out a deep breath. "You were just looking out for me, and you told me so."

Richard didn't answer.

"I guess I wasn't expecting that reaction from you, and at first you made me mad," Sandra continued. "But, I know how you don't like Dr. Dobra, and I know he has this reputation and everything. I can see why you said what you said."

Richard pursed his lips. "I didn't know it was for real."

"I know. I didn't really know, either," Sandra said. She turned to the wall again. "And I hate how I snapped back at you."

"Don't. I needed it," Richard said glumly.

"It wasn't right, and it wasn't true. I was just... feeling attacked, and sometimes I can get defensive, I guess."

"Oh, Sandra, I'm so sorry this happened too," Richard said, suddenly losing control of his voice. He crumpled down onto the bed next to her, awkwardly wrapping an arm around her shoulder as he pressed close to her back. A few of his tears rolled onto her pillow.

Sandra squeezed his hand, and Richard felt some relief at the gesture.

"I let my... dislike for Dobra get in the way," Richard said. "And I hate how I ruined your news. I mean, you must have been so happy to hear that you were moving up, and then I went and squashed that like a total asshole. Didn't give up, either."

Sandra turned around to face him, and took his face in her hands. "Let's just promise not to do this again," she whispered.

Richard nodded seriously. "Yeah. Never again."

Sandra moved close to him, and he embraced her tightly. Her body trembled a little in his arms.

"I hated these last two days," Sandra said, her voice emotional. "Emily said you were sick, and I wanted to go see you, but she said you were still talking about the Dobra thing, so I was scared."

Richard closed his eyes at those words.

"I love you, Richard. I really love you, and I was so sad that we went through this." Sandra gripped him tightly. "I hope you aren't mad at me."

"No, Sandra, I'm not mad. I'm really proud of you. I love you too," Richard said.

I do love her,  he realized. He'd never said that to anyone save his parents before. It felt right.

-------

"So what are you going to do about Dobra's class?" Sandra asked Richard, after they had held each other for a while.

"Well, I need to practice more. And get some help."

"He has been really hard on you this year," Sandra said.

"Maybe. But still, you were right. I've been slacking in that class. He told me so, and you told me so. I guess I thought he was being really unfair, just because you're female and I'm not. But after seeing what you did today..."

Sandra winced slightly. "I can't believe he made me do that in front of the class. I'm so embarrassed."

"Embarrassed? You blew everyone away! People stomped when you finished!"

"He put me on the spot, because I told him I wasn't going to move up. This morning I put a note in his box. I guess he got angry."

"He didn't get angry, Sandra. He was trying to prove something to you."

"What?"

"That you don't belong in that class. He thinks you have serious talent."

"How do you know?"

"He told me," Richard said, simply.

"Told you?"

"Yeah, after class ended we had another talk. I thought he was being an asshole to you, but he really made it sound like you have something special. Something he doesn't even have."

"Oh, that sounds like he's bullshitting," Sandra said.

"No, I'm serious. And I believe it, after seeing you do that dictation today. I can't even begin to understand how you got that whole thing right just listening to it twice. I'd still be there now trying to figure out the first measure, probably."

"I just hear the melody and write it down," Sandra said. "It's not that hard."

"Yeah, whatever! He was talking about how we can learn to do that, but without training, few people can just do it right off the bat. Very few people."

"Well, I don't know. I don't think it helps much with singing, except I can learn stuff faster."

"I don't know either, but it's still amazing."

"I'm a little scared about moving up."

"He didn't seem worried. He said that you could easily handle the class."

Sandra shrugged. "I guess."

"You are going to move up, right?"

"Do you think I should?"

"Well, of course!"

Sandra nodded. "I guess I will then. But I'm going to miss sitting next to you!"

"I know. But maybe you can help me with the class? I know you'll have a lot of work to do, but maybe you could show me a few things?"

"Oh, I'd be happy to!" Sandra said eagerly.

"Really?"

"Of course! I'll help you as much as you want."

Richard let out a sigh of relief. "Cool. I'm positive that will be better than working with Dobra."

Sandra laughed, and then frowned. "I don't know, though. If I start teaching you, things may get a little off track sometimes. I don't want to get Dobra's reputation, you know?"

Richard grinned. "You mean my lessons might cover more than theory?"

"I can think of several places you will need to cover," Sandra said, eyeing him suggestively. Her hand moved down along Richard's chest.

"Um..."

"Let's go get Emily," Sandra said, excitement in her voice. She clambered over him, her hand stopping just short of reaching where Richard had been hoping. "It's been so long since we've had fun."

"I know," Richard agreed, rolling over and looking at her as she straightened her clothes. "These recording sessions and midterms have kept me really busy."

"Hey, we've been busy too. And distracted from each other. I can see that you're back. You have that look in your eyes."

"That look?" Richard asked.

"Yeah. That look you give me. See, you are doing it right now."

Richard laughed, and shook his head.

"Let's go," Sandra said, reaching for his hands as she stood. "Emily's probably wondering if everything is okay. I know she's been really uneasy with this whole thing. We need to talk to her."

"How is she feeling?"

"She said she was just trying to stay out of the middle," Sandra said.

"Mm. I need to apologize to her," Richard said.

"Me too," Sandra agreed, smiling.

-------

Emily flipped the channel yet again. Everything was soap operas and talk shows. In reality, Emily's mind was not on the television programming, though.

I really hope things are going well up there,  Emily thought. But what if they don't work things out?

Emily was noticing that Richard became distant when he worked hard. Even though they spent some time at meals and also in the rare hours when their class and practicing schedules had a common gaps, he was often not very present. With the recent string of recording sessions, it had been very difficult to connect with him at all. Perhaps that was the root of this whole fight. He looked really run down yesterday when he was sick.

Emily checked her watch. There was about an hour until she had to go to ensemble seminar. I should probably go warm up,  she thought. I'll give them five more minutes.

Emily turned the television off and ambled over to check her mailbox. There was a letter, so she turned the key and pulled out the envelope, along with some flyers.

Just as she started to look at the return address, the stairwell door opened and Sandra and Richard came into the lobby. Emily could tell immediately by the look on Sandra's face that things had been resolved. Furthermore, it looked like they were... Wait, did they have make-up sex already?

"Hey," Sandra said.

"Hi," Emily replied.

"I'm sorry," Sandra and Richard both blurted out at once.

"Is everything cool?" Emily asked.

"Yeah," Sandra said, smiling warmly. "But how are you?"

Emily eyed them for a moment. "Just glad to see you two talking normally to each other."

"I know. We don't want to do that again," Richard said.

"I know it must be weird to be in the middle," Sandra said.

Emily shrugged. "I guess I felt more like I was on the outside, not so much the middle."

Richard nodded, although he didn't say anything.

Emily watched them as they stood arm in arm facing her.

"Are you okay?" Sandra asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I guess it was a little weird to see you go through that. That's all," Emily added. "I've not done this three-way relationship thing before, and..."

Emily trailed off, and the three of them looked around. No one was in the lobby that they could see.

"Maybe we should go to the room," Emily said.

The three of them ascended to Emily and Sandra's floor. Emily unlocked the door and tossed the mail onto the desk. I feel nervous. Why am I nervous? I should be relieved.

When she turned, Sandra and Richard were sitting on Sandra's bed, watching her. Emily sat on her own bed, hands under her thighs. It was a little cold in the room, it suddenly seemed.

"Richard was saying how he talked with Dr. Dobra after class," Sandra began. The rest of her words washed out in a echo inside of Emily's head. As the room spun and threatened to close up around her, she tried to control her breathing. Whirling, round and round... 

Why are they looking at me like that?

"Oh, I have to go to Ensemble class," Emily announced suddenly, standing all at once. "I'm sorry, I just realized. I forgot." She looked around for her horn, finding it by her desk. "Dinner? I'm done around five."

"Yeah, sure. Are you okay?" Richard asked.

"Yeah. I have to warm up. I'll see you two later."

Emily gave them a smile and then shouldered her book bag. Moments later, as she stepped out of the room, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Leaning against the wall, she steadied herself. What is going on?

-------

"What was that all about?" Sandra asked.

Richard was staring at the closed door to the room as if he could see through it.

"I don't know. Maybe she's not okay."

"She looked like she was going to faint for a second there," Sandra said pensively.

"Yeah. Weird. She cut you off mid-sentence. That's not like her."

Richard got up and went to the door. He peeked out the view hole, and then opened the door and stepped out. A moment later he reentered and closed the door again.

"I guess she lost track of time," Richard said, shrugging.

Sandra stood up and walked to the window. For a long time the two of them just stood still, trying to decipher Emily's sudden departure.

"Hey, look," Sandra said suddenly. She held up an envelope.

"What is it?" Richard asked, moving close to her.

"A letter from Allison."

"Cool. Open it."

Sandra hesitated. "Should we wait for Emily?"

"Um, it's address to the two of you. Maybe we should."

Sandra glanced at the clock. "Let's go see if we can catch her before she goes into class."

"All right. I'd feel better knowing is she's feeling better," Richard agreed.

Sandra nodded knowingly.

-------

Emily wandered along the corridor of practice rooms, half-heartedly looking for an empty room. A door opened up ahead, and she paused, not really in the mood to enter a hot room. I really should warm up though... 

As she moved towards the door, Emily stopped short. Joel Brent came out of the room and walked away down the hall, not having seen her.

"Joel," she called out. She wasn't sure why she did so.

Joel turned, and gave her a big grin when he saw her.

"Hey Emily!" How's it going?"

"All right."

"Practice time?"

"Yeah. I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you practiced at home."

Joel shrugged. "I needed to listen to something in the library, and then I had to try it out." He laughed richly and gestured to the empty room. "I'll just say I don't miss the practice rooms much."

Emily nodded and smiled a little.

Joel came closer to her, and his face grew serious. "You look a little pale. Are you all right?"

Emily waved vaguely. "Just hot. I don't really want to practice, even though I have ensemble class in a little while."

"Who's teaching?"

"Sarno."

"Right on. But I think he's sick today."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I was supposed to talk with him about something and there was a note on his door saying everything was cancelled for today."

"Oh. Well, that's cool. I wasn't really in the mood."

Joel nodded. "You want to go get a drink then? You look like you could use a break."

"Um, I don't know. I should probably still do something."

Joel smirked. "Ri-ight."

Emily considered a moment more. "Where would we go?" she asked.

"Wherever. Come on. You can catch me up on what you've been doing. I'll even buy."

Emily shrugged. "All right. But just for a little while. I need to practice later."

-------

Richard and Sandra completed their second circuit of the practice rooms, and had no success finding Emily. They grew increasingly quiet as they realized they wouldn't find Emily before her class.

"I don't even know where her class is," Sandra said.

"Me neither."

"Maybe she just went to warm up in the classroom."

"We'll just talk to her at dinner, I guess."

Sandra touched his arm. "Look, it's Jimmy, the trumpet player. He's in Emily's quintet. Let's see if he know where she is."

The two of them walked over to where Jimmy was chatting with a girl. He didn't pay any attention to them as they stood near, even though the girl kept looking at them. At last, Richard interrupted during a break in their conversation.

"Hey, sorry to bother you, but do you know where Emily's ensemble class is?"

Jimmy looked at him for a moment, and then offered a frown. "There's no class today."

"Oh. No class?"

"That's what I said," Jimmy said impatiently.

"Have you seen her around?"

"No."

Richard nodded, feeling rather out of place. Even as he said goodbye, Jimmy had already turned away from him as if he wasn't there.

"Maybe she went back to the room," Sandra said.

After returning to the dorm, and not finding Emily there, Richard flopped onto Sandra's bed with a sigh.

"Oh no, it's study time," Sandra announced.

"Study time?" Richard echoed, frowning at her.

"Theory practice."

"Right now?"

"Well, yeah! You have five weeks. You said yourself you needed to get moving."

Richard groaned. "I'm worried about Emily."

"Me too. But we still have an hour until dinner, and sitting here sulking won't be any fun."

"And theory will?" Richard asked, doubtful.

"It could be."

Richard lay there for a few more moments as Sandra grabbed her theory books.

"Come on. Let's find a room," she urged.

Richard grinned at her. "Find a room, heh heh."

Sandra raised an eyebrow. "Any rewards will come after you practice."

"I know. I know. All right, let's get to it."

Sandra patted him on the arm, and they headed back to the conservatory. Richard couldn't shake the unsettled feeling from his stomach.

"What do you need the most help with?" Sandra asked, as they found a practice room with a piano in it.

"Everything, I guess. I don't really know. I should know how to do this stuff, but every time I get in front of Dobra I fuck it up somehow."

"What did you mess up on the midterm?"

"The dictation and the singing."

"All right. Let's do some dictations."

Richard nodded and sat in the chair near the piano, as Sandra adjusted the piano bench. He watched her as she worked the rollers, lowering the seat. She's so beautiful,  he thought. I'm so lucky to have her.

His thoughts turned to Emily and he felt a pang of anxiety. Why did she act so weird? We were trying to apologize to her. Maybe she wasn't ready to talk. But I didn't even know she was angry!

"Ready?" Sandra asked, breaking Richard out of his thoughts.

"Sure."

"Okay. Um, let's see... We'll do something easy. C major. Four-four. First note is middle C."

Richard diligently made the appropriate notation on his staff paper. He looked expectantly at Sandra, who smiled back.

She played the melody through once, and then turned to Richard.

"You call that easy?" Richard said, raising a brow.

"Um... I think it's about what we're doing in the class."

"Richard shook his head. You modulated, or something."

"There were two accidentals, but..."

"I don't..."

"Just try it, Richard," Sandra interrupted.

Richard shrugged and nodded. "Okay. Play it again?"

"Sure." Sandra repeated the phrase, but stopped part way through. "Here, sit next to me so I can watch what you're doing. Maybe I can help that way."

"Then I can see your fingers."

"Well, don't look!" she chided. "That would kill the whole point."

Richard scooted his chair around next to Sandra. "All right."

"Let's start over. No peeking."

Sandra played the melody yet again. Richard wondered if it was something she made up, or perhaps a fragment of one of her vocal pieces. She didn't have any problem playing it, or repeating it exactly each time.

Richard started by filling in the first notes, as best he could figure them out. He hummed a few intervals, and generally tried to shape the melody on the paper. Sandra watched closely, and Richard was quite aware of her. He felt a little exposed, all of the sudden.

At last Richard looked up at her.

"There's a problem there," Sandra said, pointing to the fourth note. "Listen."

Sandra played the first four notes. Richard found himself looking at her fingers by accident, and saw what she played.

"Oops," he said.

"What?"

"I just saw what you played."

"Richard! Don't look!" Sandra said.

"I didn't mean to! It was just habit. When someone's playing piano, I watch their hands."

"Well, don't? So you saw what note it is?"

"Yeah, A, not B," he admitted.

Sandra rolled her eyes. "Okay, fix it, and I'll pay it again."

Sandra waited until Richard was ready, and then played the phrase once more. Richard again worked on the notes, and then looked up at her.

Sandra frowned. "You have it ending in the wrong place."

"I don't know what key you modulated to, so I just guessed."

"I didn't really modulate."

"Sounds like it."

"Listen again." Sandra played the phrase, a little bit faster this time. She stopped and held the last note long, sang it, and then raised her brow at Richard.

"I don't know," he said. "I think it's an F."

"It's not. You just... have to hear where it came from. Hear how the note before leans in?"

"It sounds like E to F."

"Hmm. Um... I guess listen one more time."

Sandra played it again, as Richard listened. He changed a few notes, but wasn't quite sure about the last two notes. They were obviously wrong. G, maybe? He changed it.

"Yeah, that's right, on the ending," Sandra said. "Could you hear it?"

"Not really. I just knew F wasn't right, so I guessed G. I still think this is harder than what we're doing in class."

"I think you can do it. Here, the last phrase has these leaps. And they just... outline this long line."

She sang a few notes, and then some others, and then the melody. Richard had no idea what she meant. "See?"

"Um..."

"I mean, in the last part," Sandra continued, "can you hear how the melody dips down and then releases into the last note? Then you almost know where it's going next, just from that." She sang again, emphasizing a few notes.

Richard shrugged. "I listen for intervals, and try and hear the root note when it comes. I don't know what you mean about long lines."

"Oh. Well, I think it's the same thing. The intervals at the end outline the major chord, except with some other notes in between. So listen for the chord tones, and then you can fill in the other notes, because they're all close by."

Richard just looked at her. She played, emphasizing notes. "See, E, C, G, E, G. Just a C chord. Then you just add those other notes in between, but they're just... decorative."

"Decorative?"

"Yeah."

Richard took a deep breath. "Sandra, I have no idea what you're talking about. How am I supposed to hear just some of the notes, and then add the ones in between later? I mean, I listen for intervals, from note to note. I can't skip random notes."

"So you listen from one note to the next, and say, 'whole step, half-step, major third, ' like that?"

"Mostly. And usually I can tell the root note, sometimes the fifth, things like that."

"Hmm."

Richard watched Sandra as she stared at the piano.

"How can you get the melody if you have to figure out each interval? That seems like it would take forever!"

Richard threw his hands up in the air. "Well, no shit! That's why we're here!"

Sandra seemed startled. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that."

Richard just waved his pencil vaguely. "Let's just try it again." His mood was sinking.

Sandra started to speak, but instead turned to the piano and played the melody again. Richard stared at his page, unable to make any changes. Presumably he didn't have it right, or else she would have said so. But he couldn't get his head around where the problem was. In fact, his concentration was elsewhere. Emily flitted into his thoughts again.

"That's all I can do."

Sandra looked at his paper some more, and then pointed to a spot. "In here, you have a couple of wrong notes. Otherwise it's okay. Listen to..." She paused for a moment. "Listen to... Jeez, this is so hard to explain!"

"Just play it again," Richard said.

Sandra did. Richard changed two of the notes. He could tell by her look they still weren't right. And why would they be? I can't even think right now. The situation was getting more depressing by the moment.

"This isn't really helping, huh?" Sandra asked, at last.

"No," Richard admitted glumly.

Sandra let out a frustrated breath. "Sorry."

"It's not your fault. You just do this stuff differently than I do. You think differently. I think I'm seeing what Dobra was talking about."

"Maybe you can learn to listen differently too, if I help you?"

Richard shrugged. "I don't know. Sounds like most of it is just raw talent. It takes years for normal people to get to what you can do, not five weeks. And Dobra said it's not even the same thing. You just have a gift, and we don't."

Sandra looked downcast. "There's got to be a way I can help."

"You can still help by playing melodies and checking my work."

"But I want to help you do better!" she cried.

"Well, we can try again," Richard said, though there was no enthusiasm in his voice.

"Okay. New melody. I'll try and make it easier, but it's hard for me to tell."

"I know," Richard said, offering the first smile since they had started the session.

-------

An hour later, it had become clear that Sandra and Richard were on different wavelengths when it came to eartraining and sight-singing.

Sandra was on the verge of tears. "I'm just confusing you, not helping."

"Sandra, it's all right. Maybe I just need to work with Dobra." Saying those words hurt him more than he let on.

"No! I'll figure it out. Maybe I can talk to him, and he can give me some tips, on how to help you."

"You won't have time for that," Richard said. "You need to study so you can move up to the next class. I'll just go in and work with him. He's going to be testing me, so presumably he knows how to help."

Sandra slumped down onto the piano. "I just had this vision that we'd just be in here having fun, and somehow I'd just be able to help you ace the class. Instead it's a nightmare."

Richard sat still in his chair. I had the same visions,  he thought, although he didn't voice that to Sandra.

"Maybe Dobra's wrong," Sandra said.

"Um, no, I'm pretty sure I need help."

"No, I mean he's wrong about me. I can't even help you get through one stupid dictation. I don't even know what I'm doing."

"I don't think that has anything to do with it."

Sandra let out a frustrated groan.

"Listen," Richard said, putting a hand on her back. "You can still be really good at something, and not necessary be a great teacher of it. My piano teacher told me that when I was considering schools. Some of the pianists I really liked were not so great at teaching, he said. Mrs. T. is really good at both. That's why I came here. But it doesn't mean you're not good at it."

"I want to be a good teacher. For you," Sandra said softly.

"Maybe you can't right now."

"But I thought it would be fun. I had things planned," she said.

"Things planned?" Richard repeated.

"Fun things."

Richard felt a pang of longing. He had imagined fun things too.

"I know. Here, turn around."

Sandra turned slowly on the piano bench, and Richard swept her into his arms. She let out a few sniffles and tears.

"Why have things been so rough for us lately?" she asked, staying tight against his neck.

"I don't know."

"I guess school has kind of taken over our lives."

"Yeah. It gets in the way of us."

"I don't like it."

"Me neither," Sandra whispered. "I thought this would be a way to do both."

"I know. And we've hardly been practicing the Serenade. It seems like all our stuff has been secondary lately."

"I wish you were coming with us for Thanksgiving," Sandra said.

"I know. Me too. It will be hard to be without you two for those three days."

"But I know you are doing the right thing by staying," Sandra added.

"School coming first, again."

Sandra squeezed him a little tighter. "We should go. Emily's probably back in the room by now."

"Yeah. Thanks for helping."

Sandra sniffed. "Whatever, I hardly helped at all."

"No, you did. Thanks."

Richard pulled out of the hug and helped Sandra up.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too, Richard."

-------

When they returned to the room, Emily was not there.

"Maybe she went to dinner? We are a little late. She said five, and it's five twenty."

Sandra looked around. "Nah, her horn's not here. She's probably just not back yet. Allison's letter is still on the desk, too."

"Maybe she was waiting for us," Richard said.

"No. She's probably just run over in rehearsal. We'll just wait. I need to lay down."

"Sounds good. I'm exhausted."

They settled into Sandra's bed, getting warm under the covers. Both of them were more tired than they realized, for soon they fell into a deep sleep.

It was a while before Sandra stirred.

"Richard, wake up."

"Huh?" Richard said groggily.

"We fell asleep. But... It's like almost eight."

"What? No way."

"Yeah, unless my clock is wrong. Unless the sun is wrong."

Richard looked at his watch. "But, what about Emily?"

"I don't know. Maybe she came and saw us sleeping, and went to eat alone."

Richard looked around the room. "Her horn isn't here. I think we would have heard her come in."

"Yeah, you're right."

Neither spoke for a long while. They looked around the room, as if expecting to find some sign that Emily had returned while they slept.

There was none. Emily had ditched dinner with them.

Richard wondered if he was ever going to lose the feeling of anxiety that had been within him so often of late.



-------

Chapter 22: Traurig


Emily woke up suddenly out of a miserable dream. The quiet of the darkness was loud in her ears.

Where am I? She tried to flex some of the tension out of her crooked-feeling body. Stiff muscles complained at being asked to relax.

For a few moments, she was still in her dream. The horn studio had been filled with people practicing right next to each other, each playing louder and louder to hear themselves. She was looking for someone. She couldn't remember who that was, after a while, and then she found herself seated on the studio's comfortable couch, now green, surrounded by people playing their incessant instruments.

Sitting next to Joel.

She suddenly snapped out of her half-dreaming state and sat up.

Oh shit! What time is it?

Her head was a mess of dizziness and pain, somewhere on the journey between the disorientation of late drunkenness and the punishment of an early hangover.

She could feel his presence near her, still sleeping, so she carefully stood up. Not that it mattered, she knew, for he was as hard a sleeper as he was a drinker.

Emily felt her clothes. Still on,  she thought, only slightly relieved. Some things from the night before she still remembered.

The blinds kept out the streetlights, so it was hard to see anything in the room. She stood numbly for a while, unsure of what to do. Should I wake him up? No... That would be very awkward. I just need to find my horn and go.

She shuffled around in the darkness, feeling around for items with her foot. Just as she located her instrument and grasped the handle, she jumped in shock as a tolling bell broke the silence. Her horn case toppled to its side as she clutched at her chest.

It was Joel's grandfather clock striking the hour. She waited, fearful it would wake him. Fortunately, it did not. He was obviously used to the loud clangs of metal.

The fear quickly turned into panic and guilt as she registered the number of tolls.

It can't be that late... Please don't let it be that late. Please let his clock be set wrong... 

She had to get out of there. With a rush, she grabbed at her horn case, and then gingerly made her way toward the door, hands outstretched. Given the hour, each step seemed to take forever.

At last, the wall and then the doorframe came in contact with her fingertips. She pulled the door open, and was almost blinded by the harsh yellow streetlight. She slipped out into the night.

It was about a half-mile to the dorm. Suddenly she wondered if she had brought a purse with her. Shit, I just left it at Joel's.

She checked her pockets, and felt the ID card and cash she had taken with her that afternoon. Yesterday afternoon... 

At least I can get into the dorm,  she thought. She wasn't sure what would happen after that.

-------

Richard lay on Sandra's bed, his head a whirl of thoughts. Sandra and he had gone in circles for hours, wondering what was happening with Emily.

"Maybe she stayed in the practice room to practice all night."

That was possible; older students sometimes told of their all night cramming sessions before concerts, to learn orchestra parts they had neglected. One had to stay in the room the entire time, or the motion sensors in the hall would set off the alarm. As long as one brought a pot to pee in and some water, and turned off the lights and stayed quiet while the security guard did his walkthrough, it was workable.

But it was very unlikely that Emily was holed up in a practice room. There was no reason to do so.

"At what point do we call the cops?"

Until now, they had been hesitant. It was very late, but still too early to go that route.

"Maybe she went to a friend's room?"

Who?

"Maybe she..."

They were running out of new worries to voice aloud.

"I guess we should try and sleep. We're not her parents."

"Feels like it, though."

After checking the answering machine again, they settled uneasily into the bed. Sleep was fleeting.

The noise was startling.

Richard bolted up, and Sandra was up almost as fast, as the phone rang urgently. Richard felt his stomach turn a few times as Sandra lifted the receiver.

"Hello?"

After a slight pause, Sandra spoke. "Oh my god. Where are you?" she said, anxiety full in her voice.

Another pause. "Why not?" Sandra asked.

Richard wondered what was going on. At least she was alive. He doubted if he'd sleep any more tonight.

"Okay, just wait, I'll come down and let you in."

Sandra hung up the phone, and turned to Richard. "She's downstairs. Outside."

"What's going on?"

"I don't know. She lost her card, or something."

Sandra started towards the door, and Richard followed.

"Is she all right?" he asked.

"I don't know anything else."

"Why didn't you buzz her in?"

"It's after midnight."

"Oh yeah."

The system was offline for safety, Richard remembered. The stairwell flashed by as they ran down, swinging around the posts.

Richard felt some relief as he caught a glimpse of Emily standing outside of the front door. He half expected her to be hurt.

Sandra pushed the door open.

"Are you okay? What's going on?" she said, letting Emily through.

Emily came into the entryway, and stood there, looking at them. Richard saw that her face was significantly wet from tears. The pain in her eyes was unmistakable.

"What... ?" he started to ask, and then Emily came close and tried to embrace her two friends. She started crying in earnest.

Richard and Sandra looked at each other over Emily's head. They moved closer, as Emily was almost hanging on them for support.

"You need to sit down, or lay down," Richard said. "Come on, let's go to the couch."

Richard noticed an ugly scrape on the palm of Emily's hand as they dragged her to the couch in the darkened common room.

Emily curled up into a little ball on the couch, crying against the back cushion.

"Emily, you have to tell us what is going on," Sandra said, putting an arm on her shoulder as she cried. Emily winced at the touch.

In the faint lighting, it was hard to tell, but it seemed like her clothes were dirty in places. Her pant was ripped at the knee. Richard couldn't remember if it was like that, earlier.

Something had been nagging at Richard's mind from the moment he saw Emily at the door. She looked... bare... Missing something... 

"Where's your horn?" he suddenly blurted out.

Emily's crying was redoubled at Richard's question.

"It's gone," came the strangled reply.

"Gone? What? Where?" Sandra asked.

Emily didn't respond.

"Did you lose it somewhere?" Richard asked, trying to keep his tone gentle.

"No. I was... I was..." The words couldn't fit between sobs.

"Did someone steal it?"

Emily nodded.

"Oh my god," Richard said quietly. The seriousness of the situation made him stop thinking for a moment. He had no idea what was going on.

Sandra appeared to be just as overwhelmed. They looked at each other for a long moment.

"Are you hurt?" Richard asked, suddenly feeling stupid for not having asked earlier.

Emily shook her head a little.

"We need to call the cops," Richard said.

"No," Emily whimpered.

"Why not?"

"It was my fault."

"What?"

Emily didn't speak.

"Emily, you need to tell us what's going on," Sandra said. "Please. Just calm down a little, and tell us."

Emily didn't seem to hear the words, but then she turned a little to take her face out of the cushion.

"You are going to kill me," Emily said, starting a fresh bout of weeping.

"No, Emily, whatever it is, I'm just glad you are here, and safe," Richard said. "But please, just tell us what happened. I won't be mad."

"Me neither," Sandra said.

After some time, Emily composed herself enough to speak again. It was a broken and halting speech.

"I was... I was walking to the dorm. And this car pulled up next to me... And the guy started talking to me... He wanted me to get in the car. I just kept walking. And then... And then he got out when his friend stopped the car. He started grabbing me, so I would stop walking, but I didn't. I told him to go away. And then..."

Emily shook a few times.

Richard felt ill. He didn't want to hear anymore, lest it be as bad as his imagination was foretelling.

"He t-told me he had a knife. He said, 'Stop, or I'll use it.'"

Emily paused for a moment, trying to control herself.

"'Stop or I'll use it, '" she repeated. "So I stopped. He told me to give him my... my wallet, so I gave him my money... and my card, and then he... Then he... he pushed me, and I fell down. And he took my horn!" Emily's voice grew extremely anguished. "He put it in the car... I thought he was leaving... He came back and started to drag me towards the car... I couldn't fight him off..."

Emily was utterly distressed, and both Richard and Sandra moved close to her, trying to offer some support.

Richard braced himself as Emily spoke again. She seemed to regain some composure.

"Then his friend told him that someone was coming. The guy let go of me, and pushed me down again."

Please let that be it,  Richard thought. Please... 

Emily shuddered. "And they drove away. They took my horn."

"Did someone come help, then?" Sandra asked, her voice hollow.

"No, a car drove by, but didn't stop."

"Did the guys come back?"

"No. I ran to the park and hid for while, and then came to the dorm."

There was a sudden silence, occasionally interrupted by Emily's quiet crying.

"We have to call the cops," Richard said again.

"No," Emily said.

"Emily, you just got attacked and robbed. We have to call the police. This isn't your fault."

Emily started crying harder again.

"Richard's right," Sandra agreed. "I'll go up and call them."

"I don't know if I can take that right now," Emily said.

"Now's the time, Em. I know you're feeling bad, but maybe they can find the guys, or something. Do you remember what car they were driving?"

"It was light grey, or white. I don't know."

"Okay, just wait. I'll be right back," Sandra said.

A million questions nagged at Richard's head, but he was afraid to ask Emily anything just then. She was still completely distraught.

Richard took the time to try and clear his head. Still feeling ill, he moved to Emily's other side, and put a gentle arm around her. He stayed quiet until Sandra returned.

She leaned into Richard and whispered. "Please tell me you have my keys."

"Me? No. I didn't grab them."

"Shoot. We're locked out, then," Sandra said.

"The door is locked?" Richard asked.

"Yeah."

"Um..."

"Emily, do you have your keys?" Sandra asked.

"No. They were in my horn case."

"Oh. Okay..."

"Why?" Emily asked.

"I kind of locked myself out of our room," Sandra said.

"Crap, my keys are up there too," Richard said.

"I'll use the callbox outside," Sandra said.

"Let me go," Richard said, staying her with his hand. If those guys had followed Emily to the dorm, he didn't want Sandra outside alone.

"It's just outside the door," Sandra said.

"Let me go," Richard repeated. "Stay with Emily."

Richard went outside. Part of him was a little frightened, but part of him wished those guys would show up right there.

What, so you can get stabbed? Or worse?

With a deep breath, he dialed the emergency code.

-------

The police arrived soon after Richard called. He let them into the dorm entryway, and then led them to the couch where Emily sat. One of the officers asked for some light, so Richard turned on one of the switches. The bright overhead lights made everyone blink for a moment.

Emily looked a mess. Her shirt and pants were dirty and ripped in a few places. Her face was red and her body still trembled.

After helping her to sit up on the couch, the two officers took some information from Emily and asked her to recount what had happened. She told the tale of the attack and theft to them. They asked for her best description of the two men and the car they were driving, and an inventory of what was stolen. When describing her horn, Emily broke down again.

"I'm sorry," she said, after regaining composure. "I've had that instrument for a long time."

"We're going to do what we can to try and get it back, but there's no guarantee," one officer said.

"It was my Dad's horn. He's going to kill me."

"Did you hear the men say anything else? Names?"

"I don't remember hearing any names," Emily said, shaking her head.

"Where were you walking from?"

Emily paused for moment. "I was at a friend's house."

"Why were you walking home at this hour?"

"I fell asleep during a movie, and then I woke up and it was late. I didn't want to stay there."

"What's your friend's name?"

"Um, Joel. Joel Brent."

"And his address?"

"I... I don't know. He lives in the neighborhood across the park."

"He didn't offer you a ride?"

"No, he was asleep," Emily said.

"Is that a bad neighborhood?" Richard asked the officers.

"No, not really. But at two-thirty a.m., a young woman walking alone... That's not really safe anywhere."

"Did you consume any alcohol at your friend's house?" the other officer said, turning to Emily. Richard could tell that the officer knew she had been. He hoped she'd answer honestly.

"I had a few drinks at a bar earlier in the night," Emily said, after a pause.

"Where was that?"

Emily told them, and then the officers asked Emily a few more questions. Since Emily rejected medical attention, they said they had what they needed.

"We'll come by in the morning to brief your resident hall director. Since they took your keys and access card, they'll have to take you out of the system until you get a new card."

"What about tonight? If those guys figure out where I live?" Emily asked, fear in her voice.

"Nothing we can do about that right now. I wouldn't worry about it. We'll keep someone posted in this area."

After the officers left, Richard and Sandra sat down heavily on the couch to either side of Emily.

"Man, I really hope they find your horn, Em," Richard said.

Emily didn't reply. Instead, she put her face in her hands and cried some more.

"How are we going to get into our room?" Sandra asked. "Should I go wake up Joey?"

Richard had forgotten about the key problem. It was the last thing he wanted to be dealing with at that moment.

"I guess we have to. Either that, or we sleep here on the couch," Richard said.

"Do you want to go?" Sandra asked.

"Um... Why don't you go? He won't mind you waking him up at this hour."

Sandra arched a brow at Richard.

"What? It's true. He'll be much nicer to you," Richard said.

"I'll probably have to explain this whole thing to him," Sandra said.

"I don't want to talk to him right now," Emily said.

"All right. I'll be back in a minute. Or a few minutes."

Sandra went off to wake up Joey. Richard stayed seated next to Emily, holding her close. He still had many questions in his head, but they all seemed accusatory. He didn't think Emily wanted that right now. Mostly, he was glad she was safe.

-------

It was after three by the time they closed the door to the dorm room. Sandra had explained the situation to Joey, and fortunately he had not pressed her to see Emily. After letting Sandra into her room, he went back to his.

"What did Joey say?" Emily asked Sandra. She and Richard were helping Emily to take off the ruined clothes she wore, and put on nightclothes.

"He seemed a little out of it," Sandra said. "What can he say though? He hopes you are all right, and he feels bad about your horn."

"God, I feel like shit," Emily said.

The removal of her clothing revealed some more scrapes and scratches. Richard winced. What a nightmare.

At last, Emily was able to get into bed. Sandra and Richard covered her up. She seemed very miserable and tired, so after wishing her goodnight, they slipped out into the hallway. Sandra followed Richard downstairs to the common room so they could talk for a moment away from the dorm rooms.

"Wow," Sandra said, when they sank into the couch cushions, exhausted.

"Yeah. Could have been a lot worse," Richard said.

"I know. I'm not sure what she was doing walking home at this hour, though."

"Yeah, it's strange. Where did she say she was?" Richard asked.

"Joel Brent's house."

"I don't even know who that is," Richard said, shrugging.

"You met him once," Sandra said.

"Really? When?"

"When you were working front desk. Remember that time when Emily wouldn't buzz someone in?"

"Oh, that was Joel?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm," Richard hummed.

"What?"

"Didn't she go out with him once?"

Sandra nodded. "Yeah."

"Why do you think she was over there?" Richard asked. "She looked like she'd had more than a few drinks. She's lucky the cops didn't press her about it."

"Yeah, but they might still tell Joey about it."

"He'd probably be cool."

"Yeah, probably."

There was a few minutes of silence.

"Joel played the French horn, I'm pretty sure," Sandra said. "Maybe they were rehearsing."

"At a bar?" Richard said, frowning. "They were probably just catching up."

"She said she fell asleep watching a movie," Sandra said. "She must have woken up and panicked because she knew we'd be worried."

"But then she walked home? Why didn't she call?" Richard asked, knowing there was no answer.

"I don't know."

"She seems really... um..."

"Worried?" Sandra finished.

"Yeah. I know she got attacked, and lost her horn, but she's acting like it's her fault, or something. I don't know, I'm probably reading too much into this. It's like three in the morning."

Sandra tapped his leg. "Come on then, we should sleep."

"Can I stay with you? In case Emily needs anything?" Richard asked.

"Of course."

"All right, let's get what sleep we can."

They trudged up the stairs and quietly opened the door to the room. Emily was sleeping, so they carefully climbed into bed.

Richard found it difficult to sleep. He had no idea how long he had laid there when he heard a whisper from Emily.

"Sandra?"

Richard stayed still, wondering if he really heard her.

"Richard?"

"Yeah?" Richard whispered back.

There was a pause, and then he realized he could hear crying. He tried to get off the bed at the foot, but Sandra still felt the movement and stirred.

"Richard? Where are you going?"

"Emily..." Richard said. "She's awake."

Richard knelt by Emily's bed. She was crying quietly but profusely.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Richard glanced at the clock. It was almost four. Behind him, Sandra got out of bed, and joined Richard.

"I can't sleep," Emily said.

"Are you having nightmares about the... stuff from tonight?" Richard asked.

"I don't know. I just..."

In the darkness, Richard felt a thousand miles away from Emily. He reached for her hands. She had them clenched into fists, and was shaking.

"Just relax. Everything's all right," Richard said.

"No, it's not."

"Tell us what's wrong, then," Sandra said, making her presence known to Emily.

Emily was silent for a long time. At times she seemed to squeeze herself so taut Richard was worried she'd break.

"I did something stupid tonight," she said at last.

"What is it?"

"I went to have a drink with an old friend."

"Joel?" Richard asked.

"Yeah..." Emily seemed surprised. "How did you know?"

"You said so earlier to the police," Richard explained.

"Oh."

"So what happened?"

"I just went with him, because rehearsal was cancelled and I ran into him in the building."

Emily paused for a bit. Richard and Sandra didn't speak.

"I'm so sorry," Emily suddenly said, her voice emotional. "You must have been so worried."

"We were a little worried," Sandra agreed. "But we're happy you are back safe."

"Especially since you left for rehearsal acting a little weird," Richard said. "Were you feeling all right?"

Emily was quiet for a bit before speaking.

"No. I wasn't. But, that's no excuse."

"Excuse?"

"I... I had a lot of drinks when I went out with Joel."

Richard hoped Emily couldn't feel the anxiety welling up in him, though the connection of their hands. Those nagging suspicions he had been feeling for the last hour suddenly seemed to be showing the path for the words Emily was about to speak. It seemed inevitable, now.

"I went to his place, to watch a movie. I was going to call, but he said his phone wasn't working. So I was going to come back after the movie."

"And you fell asleep?" Sandra asked. Her voice betrayed the hope that the story ended there. Richard knew how she felt.

"Yes."

There was a silence. Emily was clearly struggling with something in her head. Richard knew there was nothing to do but wait, as long as it took Emily.

-------

Emily felt like she was strapped to the bed. Her bruised limbs felt impossibly heavy. She was spinning around the pivot provided by Richard's hand on her fist. In the darkness, the world around her was whatever she made of it. Right now it was very empty.

The silence was endless. Her mouth would not form the words she had on queue in her head. Once she said them, her world would be different.

It already is different,  she corrected herself. Tell them or not, everything's still changed.

Emily didn't know how she had been so foolish. Not telling Joel about Richard and Sandra was a mistake. So was having all those drinks. Joel was so smooth, flirting his way to paying for every ounce of tequila. So smooth... And Emily had swallowed everything he had offered her, at the bar, at his house, and on the couch.

It was all empty bottles, now. Joel clearly missed her, but she did not want him. He was too old, and too young. Emily knew he still played around with whoever he could find. News was easy to come by in the music world.

That thought reminded her of her horn. How foolish she felt! And tomorrow, when everyone found out about the theft, she'd probably burst of shame. She didn't really have anyone to help her now. Her father would never forgive the loss of the horn. Joel would probably feel bad, but he couldn't do anything.

The worst part was that she wouldn't have Richard and Sandra, either.

Things suddenly felt very much like the times after her mother had died.

"It's over," she managed, not sure if they even heard the hoarse sound she had made.

"What's over?" Richard asked, after a pause.

"Me, and you two. I went and messed things up. But it's probably what was going to happen anyway."

"Emily..."

"I don't want to be in the way of you being together," she pressed, stopping Richard from talking. "The whole thing was just a phase, but I know you two should be together."

"I don't know why you are saying that, Em. I don't think it's a phase, or anything," Richard said.

Emily's voice caught for a moment. There was such honesty and emotion in his disembodied voice, that she almost reached for him.

"I got back together with Joel. I used to go out with him, a long time ago, and, well... things just kind of happened. I'm sorry."

Emily knew this was where the long silence would happen. She could almost hear them thinking, contemplating her words. Any moment now, Richard would release her hand. Her father would have stood and left, but with Sandra there, she wasn't sure what they would do, together. Perhaps go sleep in his room?

Emily waited, still as a rock.

Then his hand let go.

Emily was almost relieved, she realized. This was what she was used to. She knew how she would feel for the next week, and beyond. The solitary retreat she had so often visited in her head beckoned now.

And then, Richard was beside her. He had crawled onto the bed, and laid down beside her... 

"I'm sorry about your horn, Em," he said, quietly.

Emily's mind turned in confusion. Did he not hear me?

"And I'm sorry for the way I've been acting lately, to you and to Sandra," he said.

Emily felt a hand on hers again. It was Sandra's, she realized, after a moment.

"I guess I should have seen this coming, and I feel like it's my fault," Richard continued.

Emily opened her mouth, but no words came out.

"And now it came to this." Richard let out a frustrated breath.

"Richard," Emily said meekly. "Richard, I was with Joel tonight. We did stuff..." her voice pleaded.

"I heard you, Em. Just tell me this. Tell us this..."

"What?"

"Are you really back together with Joel?"

Emily tried to understand the meaning of the question. It was over with them. It had to be over; it was the only thing that made sense. Emily fought off the urge to jump out of the bed and run away.

"I don't know what you mean." She was surprised to hear herself crying.

The lateness of the hour was suddenly bearing down on her. The adrenaline she had been building up in anxiety over revealing the full events of the evening was now dissipating, and her thoughts were jagged and uncontrolled. She wasn't sure if she was shaking.

"Tonight wasn't your fault, Em," she heard Richard say softly. His words barely registered.

"But..."

"I'm sorry. Please come back..."

Emily was sure she was dreaming.

-------

Emily opened the door to the practice room. Her father stood there, an entourage behind him.

"Dad?" Emily looked wide-eyed at him.

"I heard about the horn."

"What? I... I was going to call you, but I thought you'd be sleeping..." Emily looked down at the unfamiliar horn in her hands. Whose... ?

"Never mind that," her father barked. "We'll talk about that later." His voice carried unmasked disappointment.

"You didn't tell me you were coming," Emily said. She glanced down the hall, hoping Richard or Sandra were not approaching.

"Your mother is very sick," he replied, ignoring her comment.

Emily stood confused for a moment. Her mother was... sick?

"What's wrong with her?"

"They don't know."

Emily knew, somehow. Her mother had cancer.

One of her father's assistants whispered into his ear. Her bright red blazer seemed at odds with her auburn hair and the faded green pastel of the Wexford hallway.

"I have to go to Europe in a few minutes," he said. "Take this..."

He handed Emily a plane ticket.

"But, what about you?"

"I can't miss the tour. I left some food at the house. Oh, let the cats out when you get there."

Emily watched as he walked off. Thirty to forty people hurried after him, ignoring Emily. She hurried to pack up her horn, but there was no case. She had no music books, either. Hurrying towards the dorm, she felt around for her ticket, suddenly remembering it. Panic set in as she didn't feel it in her pocket.

Had she taken it from him? She ran back to the practice room, but her room was different... or occupied. She pulled the door open to each, ignoring the startled faces of oboists and cellists. Which room?

If she could find her father... Maybe he still had it. She had to find her father; it was the only way to her mother.

The only way to see Mom... 

The only way to see Mom... 

As she rounded a corner, her father was emerging from a janitorial closet. He stared blankly at Emily, as if he didn't recognize her. She realized that she didn't have her horn in hand anymore.

The only way to see Mom... She's dead.

It was a dream, she suddenly realized. She still clutched to the scene, watching her father before her.

"Do you love me?"

"Of course I love you," he replied. As the words left his mouth, Emily caught a flash of red in the dim closet behind her father.

Then her vision prickled and her ears opened to the sound of two people breathing gently beside her.

-------

Clark Rathbourne was seated at his desk, poring over the final movement of Mahler's Third Symphony. A few inches above his desk, his right hand moved in miniscule movements, delivering the pulse and the cues.

April was a long time away. He could already imagine the hall full of performers, and full of audience. This would be the centerpiece of the season. He wished he didn't have to wait five months. Then again, he wanted to know the score better than his hand.

There was a soft knock at his door.

"Yes?"

His assistant, Audrey, poked her head around the door. He smiled warmly at her. It was amazing how much she looked like Elizabeth at times, with her red hair and thin eyebrows.

"It's Emily on the phone."

"Emily? Okay, I'll take it here," he said, reaching for the receiver.

Audrey closed the door quietly as Clark put the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

"Good afternoon, Emily. How are things?"

"They're okay."

"Good."

There was a pause. Clark wondered if everything was all right. Her voice seemed... 

"I was wondering if you were able to come to a recital," Emily said.

"A recital?"

"Yeah. Me and two friends are giving one in the spring. I know you probably have a concert, or rehearsal, but I thought..." Her voice trailed off.

"Well, that's good news. I didn't know you'd be giving a recital your first year."

"Well, our teachers thought it would be okay."

"That's really excellent, Emily. What will you be playing?"

"There's a Serenade by Britten..."

"Oh, wonderful. Yes, a great piece. But you will have an orchestra, then?"

"No, my friend Richard will play the part on the piano. And Sandra, you know, my roommate? She'll sing. I know it's a little weird, but..."

"No. It sounds interesting. Tell me, when is the recital?"

"April ninth."

Clark fingered his calendar forward a few pages. Finding the date, he winced, and then put a hand to his chin.

"Um, let me see here..." he stalled, staring at the ceiling. "Hold on for a moment."

"Okay."

Clark pressed the hold button on the phone, and then sighed. Should I... ? This time it's different.

Clark stood up all at once. Opening his door, he called to Audrey. After she entered his office and he closed the door, he checked that Emily was still on hold.

"I need to go to see Emily on April ninth. Please book a flight for me."

"But, April ninth? That's right in the middle of Mahler Three rehearsals!"

Clark waved her response aside. "I'm not worried about that. We have that night off."

Audrey nodded.

"This is important," Clark pressed. "Can you book a flight for two?"

A smile crept onto Audrey's face, before she wiped it away. "Do you really think it's the right time?"

"I think so."

"Why April ninth?"

"She's giving her first recital at Wexford."

"But then I don't want to distract from that."

"You won't. I'll tell her beforehand."

Audrey nodded.

"Give us as much time there as you can," Clark said, reaching for the phone.

"Okay."

Clark blew her a quick kiss and then took up the receiver, grinning.

"April ninth, you said?"



-------

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.

"I know. I still wish I was going with you two," Richard said wistfully.

"Staying with your teacher will be fun. It's really cool that she asked you," Sandra said.

"Yeah. I'm a little nervous though. Not sure what to talk about, since I don't really know her outside of lessons."

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Sandra said.

"We will miss you," Emily added, and then pointed to her empty plate. "Thanks for making this food. It really was good, in more ways than taste."

"You're welcome. We thought you probably wouldn't be up for the cafeteria tonight," Richard said with a grin.

"No, probably not," Emily agreed, with a little laugh. She then turned serious. "I don't know what I'd do without you two. I'm still amazed ... but also very grateful for everything you did. I've never had anyone in my life like the two of you."

Richard and Sandra smiled warmly, and lifted their glasses. A splash of clear water landed on Richard's cheek, startling him for a second. They all laughed easily for the first time in days.

-------

Later that night, the trio had split up to practice. Despite wanting to work on the Serenade and be together, Emily had a lesson early the following morning, and was determined to go to it. Richard had managed to secure one of the large piano practice rooms for his session.

As soon as he had adjusted the bench and pulled out his books, there was a knock. He turned to find Sandra entering. She came in and closed the door, sitting in the chair near Richard. Her eyes looked tired, but there was a serene quality about her that Richard understood. Things have finally calmed down,  he knew.

"Hey," Richard greeted.

"How did you get this room? You said it was always full. I made three circles before thinking to check here."

"I guess the piano mafia took the night off."

"Piano mafia?" Sandra asked.

"Those five or six girls who occupy the room in shifts. Every time one is ready to leave, one of her friends comes into the room and then takes her place. There's no getting in, since there's always one of them in here. They usually have two or three of the rooms taken most of the day."

"You should complain."

"To who?"

"I don't know," Sandra admitted. "Doesn't seem fair that they can hog the rooms, though."

Richard shrugged, and then caught a face peeking in through the window in the door.

"Whew, just made it!" Richard said quietly. "That's one of them."

"Do they practice all day?"

"As far as I can tell."

Sandra stood and leaned on the edge of the piano. "Do you think Emily will be all right?" she asked earnestly.

Richard nodded slowly. "Seems like she finally calmed down."

"I agree, but I just wanted to see how you see it. I thought after last night's talk we were okay, but then she flipped out again."

"Seems like she was feeling really guilty and ashamed."

"Yeah. It was like she didn't want us to forgive her," Sandra mused. "It was so out of character. She always seems so unaffected by things."

"She had a tough time growing up, and she didn't expect what we did, I guess."

"It was the right thing to do, right?" Sandra asked.

Richard nodded. "For some reason, after she told us what really happened, I didn't feel angry anymore. Earlier, when she had disappeared and then showed up at the dorm, last night, I was feeling a little ... strange. Not mad, really, but everything I thought of asking her seemed like I would be accusing her. Jealousy, I guess."

"I had the same feelings in my head when she said she was at Joel's," Sandra agreed.

"But after she told us what had happened, I just felt bad because of the way I was acting. I just wanted to be there for her," Richard said.

Sandra nodded. "I'm glad she understood tonight. For a while there, I was really worried about her. But she seemed to be mostly back to herself during dinner."

"Mm."

Sandra paused for a long time and then spoke again. "Do you think what we have is real?"

Richard looked up at her. "How do you mean?"

"I mean, the three of us have only known each other for less than three months. We've been through some things, and it's still sometimes strange to think I'm involved with both of you. But when I really, really look at you and Emily, I feel like you are my best friends. Soul mates."

"I know. I've never had a relationship like this one, even with one person. Not even close."

"I always thought that there was one right person out there for you, the one true love. Now I'm not so sure," Sandra said.

"So we're messing up your romantic ideals, huh?" Richard said with a grin.

"No, I don't want to go back," Sandra said, smiling back. "But it's changed my perspective. Once, I thought Billy was my soul mate. We went out for two years in high school, you know. But then we grew up, and realized we wanted different things. He wanted to take over his family farm, have a farm wife and farm kids and farm tractors. I wanted to sing at the Met. Those don't go together very well."

"No, probably not. There are definitely no farms near Lincoln Center."

Sandra laughed. "True. But for my whole life, everything always pointed to finding that one person. Books, movies ... even operas are about a boy and a girl, most of the time. So even if it wasn't Billy, it would be someone else." Sandra sighed. "Do you know what I mean? Maybe it was just a girly dream."

"No, I don't think so," Richard said. "I know what you mean."

"So now I've found two of you. Is it for real?"

Richard stared at the keyboard for a few moments. "Maybe we belong to a pool of soul mates," he said pensively. "There are a small number of people on this earth that we are intertwined with, not just one other."

"Hmm. I like that ... But then it has to be more than a small number." Sandra said.

"Why?"

"Because what are the chances that my roommate is one, and that another lives on the floor below? And that we meet all at once? Then there must be a hundred soul mates on this campus, a thousand in this city!"

Richard thought for a moment. "Then again, maybe we were drawn here by the same things. As mates, we all love music. We love to play it, and we've chosen to do it for a living. That cuts out a lot of the potential people you said. Then there's the fact that we haven't found anyone else. The main reason we're here now is because Emily was nice to me when I met her, and a bunch of other people ignored me the first day. Although having Emily as your roommate is probably luck."

"Or fate. Or whatever." Sandra was lost in thought. "I really like that picture, Richard. More than one soul mate. It somehow makes some things I've wondered about our relationship more clear."

"Well, it was your idea," Richard said.

"Sort of. We should tell Emily about it sometime."

"Sure. Though when it comes down to it, I still love you both, all that philosophy and shit aside."

Sandra laughed. "I know, but still, it's interesting. Makes you wonder who else is in our pool."

"Getting bored with us already?" Richard said, amused.

"Hardly," Sandra replied, sliding onto the bench next to him for a kiss. "What are you working on?" she asked, after withdrawing her lips at last.

"I was going to peek at one of the Chopin Etudes Mrs. T. thought I should learn for the recital. We are working on two of them that I sort of learned on my own, but tonight I was thinking about the recital again and getting excited."

"Really?" Sandra said, her voice happy.

"Yeah. I'll admit that for the last few weeks, I wasn't really into it. But now, I'm looking forward to it again."

"Me too!"

"So I was going to look at one of the new Etudes," Richard said.

"Play a little of it for me?"

"Sure. I've never tried to play it, though," Richard said.

"I don't mind. I'd like hearing you play anything at all."

Richard smiled, feeling comforted by her presence near him.

He flipped open to the page in the manuscript, and then settled his left hand on the piano. After a few slow, deep breaths and a smile at Sandra, he played the opening melody slowly, trying to feel each note. Before the right hand entered with the accompaniment, he stopped.

"That's a short one," Sandra said, elbowing him gently in the ribs.

"Funny."

"That part looks crazy," she said, pointing to a long, dense string of small notes, later in the piece.

"There are a few technical moments in this Etude. Well, fast technical. The rest of the piece is about phrasing and tone, Mrs. T. said. She played it for me in the lesson, and it was really beautiful and sad. That's the kind of thing I need to work on most."

"Play some more."

"I'll try."

"Think of Emily," Sandra said.

"Hmm?"

"How beautiful she is, and how sad that she had to go through some of the things she's been through."

Richard nodded. He then turned to Sandra and embraced her gently. "I never really considered how hard things must be for her. After she hung up with her dad this afternoon, I felt like crying. I felt foolish about my family, too. I mean, she's had neither parent, really, for so long. And here I've been complaining all semester about my dad calling every day."

Sandra didn't say anything.

"I've been pretty insensitive," Richard added. He caressed Sandra's hair gently.

"Maybe she can fix things with her dad, just a little."

Richard straightened up out of the hug. "I hope so. And I need to do the same with my dad," he said, with sudden energy and life. He was looking at the piano keys, but seeing something else.

"Give him a call tomorrow," Sandra said.

"I will. But I also just had an idea. Come on, let's go find Emily for a sec. Do we have anything this weekend?"

-------

After dinner, Emily had found a practice room quickly. Though she had made Joey, the dorm director, promise to not spread the word about her incident, she still expected people to find out, somehow. News in the music world could never be contained for long.

None of the students Emily encountered acted differently than normal, and Emily's apprehension began to subside. The reality that she had her horn back and was returning to her normal schedule was still surreal.

After setting up her music and preparing her instrument, she stood to stretch. Her bruises and scrapes were still sore, but were not anything to complain about. She momentarily visualized being dragged towards the car against her will...

A knock startled her. She opened the door, expecting to see Richard and Sandra. Instead, Joel Brent was there. Emily just looked at him.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

Emily nodded, and Joel came in and closed the door.

"I rang up to your room, but no one answered so I came over here to see if you were practicing," he said, glancing at her.

"Here I am," Emily said evenly.

Joel averted his eyes and scratched at his head. "I'm really sorry about last night, Em. I was stupid."

Emily said nothing, and stared at the floor.

"Why did you leave my place without waking me?" he asked suddenly.

Emily shrugged. "I was drunk, and just wanted get back to my bed."

Joel sighed heavily. "Bad choice, for both of us."

Emily looked at him. "Both of us?"

"The cops came to my house today, Em. They told me what happened."

"Oh. I didn't know you knew."

"Yeah. I know," Joel said, his voice tired.

"It was ... dumb of me to leave," Emily said, "but luckily I got my horn back. I'm not hurt, really; just a few bruises. For some reason it didn't end up a lot worse. I'm not blaming you, Joel. I left when you were sleeping. Not much you could have done. Luckily, everything will be okay."

Joel looked at her with wide eyes. "Everything will be okay? Fuck, Emily, the cops told me you said I bought you some drinks at a bar! Why did you say that? They are probably going to charge me with buying alcohol for a minor!"

Emily stared at him in shock. "What?"

"Yeah, you heard right. Since I got you drunk, and with what happened to you later, they weren't very friendly."

Emily felt her heart in her throat. "But Joel," she stammered.

"Why did you give them my name? Why would you say you were drinking?" Joel said, his voice heating up.

"I ... I don't know! They were asking where I was walking from and I just told them."

"You could have said a party or something!"

Emily breaths came labored. "A party? Where? I was just attacked. Someone stole my horn! I was in no place to even think to make something up. And you did buy me drinks, Joel!" Emily said, her voice raised as well. "None of this would have happened if you didn't." Emily suddenly slumped down onto the piano bench.

"Oh, and I forced them down your throat, right? I suppose I forced everything else on you too? Are you going to tell them that? Do you even know what the punishment is for what I did?" Joel moved close to her, standing above her.

"No," Emily said.

"Two-thousand dollars! And jail time, even, if they want to be firm."

"Oh my god," Emily said hoarsely. A familiar nausea and darkened vision was creeping up on her again. She felt her body swaying on the bench, so she turned to lean against the piano.

"Everything's going to be okay, huh? Emily, I'm screwed!" Joel said despairingly. His voice was distant.

"What the hell?" came a new voice. Emily's resolve melted at the sound, and then arms were around her. Are they Joel's? No, they were comforting. Emily felt an immense wave of relief at realizing Sandra was beside her.

-------

"What are you doing?" Richard demanded of Joel.

"I was just talking to Emily."

"Just talking? Emily, are you all right?"

Emily nodded slowly, but she was clearly distraught.

"Is he bothering you?" Richard asked.

Emily didn't answer, so Richard turned to Joel. "What's going on here? You're Joel, right?"

"This is between me and Emily," he said.

"Whatever it is, it's making her upset," Richard said, keeping his voice as even as he could. As he looked in Joel's face, he saw a desperation he didn't like. Why is he here bothering Emily?

"She should be. She messed things up big time."

"She? She did? Do you even know anything about what happened to Emily last night, after she left your place?" Richard said.

"Yeah, and now I might be looking at a huge fine since she blamed it all on me!"

"No, I didn't!" Emily cried.

"You told the cops I gave you the drinks. That's as good as blaming me! Worse, even. Might as well have told them I attacked you too!"

Richard looked at Joel for a long moment, fighting to restrain his anger. "Just get out of here," he said. If he gives me any trouble, I'm going to... 

Joel took a deep breath and then reached for the door handle. As he grasped it, he paused, staring at the off-white wall. "Emily, I can't believe you did this to me — after all this time. Now everything is messed up." His voice was distant.

"I'm sorry, Joel," Emily said weakly.

"Well, I am too. I thought we were having fun." Joel stood stone still, staring at the wall.

"Everything about last night was wrong," Emily said after a long moment.

Joel shook his head slowly. "Fuck," he muttered.

For a moment, Richard thought he was opening the door, but instead he turned to Emily again.

"You better hope they don't charge me, Em, cause otherwise you're going to be involved. I'm going to fight it, and that means you're going to be involved."

Richard started detecting the heat returning to Joel's voice, so he stepped in front of him. "That's enough," he said.

"This doesn't concern you, man," Joel said.

"Sorry, but it does," Richard countered. He forced his tone to stay reasonable. "I don't really know you, but right now I don't like what I'm seeing here. Emily is in no condition to talk to you about this now. She went through a really rough night, no thanks to you. So maybe after you cool off a little and find out what's going on, then you can talk. You might start by finding out how she's feeling, instead of trying to blame her for telling the truth."

Joel's eyes narrowed for a moment, and then he looked away.

"Have they actually charged you with anything?" Richard asked.

Joel glanced at him, and then shrugged. "No. Not yet."

"Maybe it will just blow over, then," Richard said.

"I don't know. Maybe," Joel admitted. There was no fight in his voice now. "Maybe they were just trying to scare me."

"I was there when Emily talked to the cops, and she didn't say anything to make it sound like it was your fault," Richard said. "Honestly? They knew she had been drinking. There was no way out of that one. And they asked where she had been. No way out of that one, either. It's not like there's a library over there she could say she was at."

Joel shrugged slightly, but did not answer.

"And maybe they were just looking for someone to mess with, since they still haven't found the attackers," Richard added.

Joel sighed deeply. "Christ, this is messed up. I'm sorry. It's just fucking crazy. I have my recital coming up. I can't deal with this right now!"

"And neither can Emily. She's been through a lot. Now if you don't mind, we're going to take her back to the room."

Joel nodded slowly, and opened the door. He waited for a moment, but Richard just looked at him. He exited the room wordlessly and disappeared.

Richard closed the practice room door, and let out a sigh. Will this day ever end? He wondered. With that thought, he turned his energy to helping Emily.

-------

"Richard ... Are you awake?"

"Yeah."

"I haven't been able to sleep yet."

"Me neither."

"Too much to think about."

"I know."

"Mostly, though, I wanted to thank you. You and Sandra were there for me all night and all day, and that means more to me than you'll ever know or understand. I don't know if anyone has ever been so kind to me before."

"..."

"You don't know how relieved I was that you came in when Joel was there tonight. I just couldn't deal with that."

"He was being a prick."

"I know. Thanks for dealing with him. You were so cool, talking to him."

"Actually, I was really ready to punch him at any moment. I didn't like seeing you like that."

"Well, it's over now. I really hope he doesn't get into trouble. He's not a bad person."

"I hope he doesn't either, for your sake."

"I just want to put this all behind me. Behind us."

"Yeah. Me too."

"I'm getting sleepy. Will you hold me a little longer?"

"Of course."

"..."

"..."

"I love you, Richard."

"I love you too, Em. Good night."



-------

Chapter 24: Ballet en Cinq Mouvements


I. Overture

Jer pulled his headphones off when he heard the phone. He could almost tell from the ring that it wasn't Richard's father, so he started to get up to answer.

"I'll get it," Richard said, moving quickly to the phone. Jer put his headphones back on, but paused the CD player until he heard who it was.

"Hello?" Richard said. "Hi Sandra! Made it to your house?"

Jer smiled. Richard's tone brightened up considerably. And why wouldn't it? If I was banging those two girls, I'd be happy to talk to them anytime.

Jer decided to listen to the one-sided conversation.

"Eh, missing the two of you already..." Richard said. "I went to dinner all alone. It sucked." Richard glanced quickly at Jer, but Jer kept his eyes on his score, pretending not to have heard. Earlier, Jer had asked Richard if he wanted to go to dinner, but he had glumly rejected the offer. Sounds like he should have come out after all... 

"I know. I'll be all right. I wish you were here, but you two will have fun." Richard sat heavily into his desk chair.

"Yeah, it will be interesting to meet her family, and see where she lives. Someone told me she has a lot of money," he said.

"What are you two doing tonight?" Richard asked them.

"Me too. Not really in the mood to practice or do anything."

"Sure, put her on."

"Hi, Em," Richard said cheerily.

"Wow, really? Are they all relatives?" he asked.

Richard laughed. "Sounds like my family."

"You'll be fine."

Richard made a face. "Um, 'Sandra'?"

"I don't know."

"I don't know, Emily! Um ... Pumpkin?"

"What?" he exclaimed.

"Sandrine? Mm, I like that!"

Sandrine,  Jer thought. What is he talking about?

"I might have to use that," Richard said.

"Okay."

"Yeah."

"Um, a little."

"A few more days and then what?" Richard asked them.

"What are we going to do?"

"Don't tell me that!" Out of the corner of his eye, Jer could see Richard adjusting his position in his chair, as his voice grew a little more excited.

"Oh god..." Richard said quietly.

"And... ?" he exclaimed.

"Things?"

"Like what?"

"You two are such..." Richard cast another glance at Jer, and then stopped.

"Um, nothing."

"No. I can't..."

"Yeah."

"Stop!"

Jer suppressed a grin. What a couple of teases... 

"Okay, have fun!"

"Bye."

-------

Richard hung up the phone, and shook his head with a smile. Those girls... ,  he thought.

Jer pulled his headphones off. "Who was it?" he asked.

"Oh, just Emily and Sandra checking in," Richard said, nonchalantly.

"Everything cool with them?"

"Yeah. Sounds like they're having a good time."

"Nice. When are they coming back?"

"Saturday night."

"Are you going to be in the room much after that?" Jer asked. It was more of a suggestion.

Richard frowned at him suspiciously. "I don't know, why?"

"Jenna's roommate is back that night too."

"Oh. So you're kicking me out?"

"No, but if you do have a place to stay..."

Richard laughed. "Don't worry, I'll be out of your hair."

"Hey, I know you're going to be up in their room that night anyway, so..."

Richard chuckled. "Yeah, it sounds that way."

The phone rang again.

"It's your Dad," Jer said immediately.

Richard reached for the receiver and then paused. Jer's probably right. Who else would be calling? Richard didn't answer. Sure enough, after the answering machine kicked in, Vittorio's voice came over the speaker in Italian.

"Hello, Riccardo." Vittorio paused for a very long moment. "You made me very happy today. Thank you. Zia Maria and Mama liked it too. I am so proud of you. Have a good dinner with your teacher. Call us when you can, my son. Ciao, Riccardo."

"What was that about?" Jer asked.

"Oh, nothing much," Richard replied, glad that Jer didn't understand Italian.

-------

II. Vaganova

Richard checked himself in the mirror one last time. Take off the jacket,  he thought. No, leave it. It is Thanksgiving. The tie was too much, though, so he removed it and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt.

Irina hadn't been much help when he asked how to dress. "However you like," she had said. After sifting through his closet, and consulting with Sandra and Emily before they left, he had decided on a suit.

As he was on the verge of replacing his tie, he decided to quit the mirror and wait for Irina's husband down in the lobby. Otherwise he'd end up wearing something completely different.

The dorm was deserted. Apart from Jer and a handful of others, everyone had gone away for the weekend. Richard had his room to himself for the most part, since Jenna had stayed behind and her roommate hadn't.

As Richard sat on an easy chair looking out at the parking lot, he wondered what to expect at his teacher's house. He hadn't asked if any of her other students would be there, but assumed that there would be some.

Will I have to play something? He didn't know many of the other students in the studio yet. He'd chatted with a few, but only superficially. All the pianists in Mrs. Tertychnaya's studio were invariably excellent. One had recently won a major competition and was going to be performing with the Los Angeles Philharmonic the next fall.

A car pulled into the lot in front of the dorm, and Richard went outside. Even if it was not Harvey, he was getting restless. It was unseasonably warm out, Richard noted, and he adjusted his jacket.

A man in his late fifties got out of the passenger side of the car and immediately waved to Richard. I guess that's him,  Richard thought. He was dressed casually, and Richard wondered if he should ask about the suit.

"Hello, Richard. Harvey," he said, extending his hand.

Richard shook it. "Nice to meet you."

"Hate to hurry you, but I have the food cooking back at the house. It's a bit of a drive, I'm afraid. Shall we?"

"I'm ready," Richard said.

Harvey headed to the car door he had exited from. Richard looked into the windshield and saw no driver, and then realized the wheel was on the right. Richard slid into the passenger seat. "Neat car. What is it?"

"Gordon Keeble. Made in England in 1965."

"Cool."

"Nothing fancy, but it's a nice little GT."

"Do you collect cars?"

The Keeble's engine fired up and Harvey guided it out of the lot.

"Among other things, yes. I am a collector," Harvey said, grinning over at him. "Hope you're hungry!"

-------

If Richard had guessed at what Irina and Harvey's house looked like, he would have been wrong. The first thing that struck him was the barn which served as a large, open garage. Instead of horses, the modified pens each held an automobile in them. The early afternoon sun came in through a series of skylights, casting a gleam on shiny fenders and headlights.

"Wow," Richard said quietly.

"One of my homes away from home," Harvey said, chuckling. "I'll suggest postponing a tour until later, if you are interested. For now, we should go inside so I can check on the meal."

Richard glanced briefly at each car as they walked to the front doors of the barn.

"I'd love a tour later," he said.

The house was large and classic in style, and Richard was glad he had worn a suit. As they entered the foyer, he heard piano music being played. Someone was playing the Chopin Opus 45 Prelude. And beautifully... 

Richard grew a little anxious, hoping the day would not be spent around the piano. With his technique being rebuilt by Mrs. Tertychnaya, he was in an awkward place for demonstrating his abilities.

Harvey hummed along with the music for a moment.

"Irina will be by the piano, of course," he said quietly, as he led Richard into the house. Besides an enticing aroma of food cooking, Richard noticed paintings on every part of the walls in the house. It was like the art museum, but more dense in content. Sculptures stood here and there on pedestals or end tables.

In the living room, Richard saw two grand pianos interlocked, and was surprised to see Mrs. Tertychnaya playing one of them. With her back to them, she didn't hear their approach. Harvey walked up behind her and reached his hand in to the keyboard to play a high note, just as she went to play it.

Harvey laughed when she grabbed his wrist and tried to play the rest of the phrase. It didn't work so well.

"Richard is here," he said, when Irina stopped playing with a laugh.

"I know. I saw you in the reflection. Hello, Riccardo."

"Hello. Nice house," he said, indicating the artwork.

Irina waved her arms, indicating the area around the pianos. "This is my house. Everything else is Harvey's."

Harvey chuckled. "I must attend to lunch," he suddenly said, checking his watch. "Would you care for something to drink?"

Richard nodded. "Sure."

"Let's adjourn to the kitchen, then," Harvey said. "We can talk there."

The kitchen smelled incredible, a concentration of the aromas that permeated the rest of the house. He could almost taste the food just by breathing.

Hanging throughout the kitchen were dozens and dozens of wooden spoons of all shapes and sizes, including a six-foot long specimen perched above the arch door.

"You weren't kidding when you said you collected things," Richard said.

"Ah, yes. I suppose you noticed the spoons," Harvey said.

Richard tried to suppress a laugh, but it came out a little. How can one not notice!

"Yeah. I don't think I've seen that many spoons in one place."

"I am a bit of an obsessive collector, a fact with which I'm sure Irina would agree with me."

"I don't know why he has so many," Irina said, laughing.

"Do you use them?"

"Many of them," Harvey said. "That large one, not so often," he added, pointing to the behemoth spoon.

"Are they rare spoons? Collector spoons?" Richard asked, somewhat intrigued.

Harvey just laughed.

"No, they are not," Irina said.

"Well, if someone collects something, I suppose they are collector's items," Richard mused.

Irina chuckled. "It sounds like you have found a new friend, Harvey. Or you taught him this act on the way here!"

Harvey put on a face of mock hurt as he stirred a pot with a wooden spoon. "Nothing of the sort. He simply appreciates the collection!" He turned to Richard, holding aloft the spoon in his hand. "All of these have a story."

"Yet, that is the only one you use," Irina said, pointing to the one in his hand.

Harvey looked at the spoon in his hand thoughtfully. "Well, it is a good spoon."

"And what's the story behind that one?" Richard asked. The amiable back-and-forth between his teacher and her husband presented a new side of Mrs. Tertychnaya Richard had not seen.

Harvey seemed momentarily flustered. "I can't recall," he said vaguely.

"He bought it at a supermarket," Irina said simply.

"Ah, but it was a gourmet supermarket," Harvey said, recovering quickly.

Richard laughed, feeling more comfortable now.

He heard the clicking of shoes in the hallway, and turned to see a striking black-haired woman enter the kitchen. It's Mrs. T., twenty years ago! Richard thought. But with stronger features ... Following behind was a teenage girl, who bore more of a resemblance to Harvey.

"Come, girls. This is Richard, one of my students," Irina said. "My daughters, Viktoriya and Nadia. They will be joining us for dinner."

Richard nodded, unsure whether to extend his hand. Viktoriya smiled disarmingly and extended hers. With his suit on, and her fine dark red dress, he felt like he should kiss her hand, not shake it. He wasn't that bold.

"Hello, Richard," she said in perfect, crisp English.

"Hello."

Nadia extended her hand as well and then went to stir the pot.

"I almost forgot I was getting drinks," Harvey said. "Viktoriya, Nadia, would you like some wine?"

"Yes, please," they said.

"Richard?"

"Uh, sure, thanks." He figured that if Harvey had offered, there was no problem. Besides, Nadia couldn't be older than he was.

Harvey pulled five glasses from a hanging rack and then opened a bottle of red wine. He poured some in each glass and then passed them out.

"Welcome," he said, holding his glass up towards Richard.

Richard nodded and thanked them for having him.

"Well, since we're all here," Harvey said magnanimously, "I suggest we proceed to the dining table."

-------

Some hours later, Richard was fully sated. The meal had been outstanding. There had been no turkey and stuffing, but rather an assortment of recipes Harvey had collected from the countries he had visited (and there were many). He could not remember having eaten so many tasty and different dishes all in one sitting.

Nadia, the younger daughter, had left for a friend's house shortly after dessert, but Viktoriya, Irina and Harvey had remained at the table and talked for a long time.

The more Richard got to know him, the more he liked Harvey. There was an outward optimism to his person that was infectious, and yet he also spoke like a man of intensity and thought, so that his optimism was not unfounded. At one point, Richard realized he had no idea what Harvey actually did.

"What is your work, Harvey?" Richard asked. He had tried calling him Mr. Mitchell, but Harvey wouldn't have it.

"My work? Well..." He seemed to stare off into space for a moment. "I don't know. For sure, I collect spoons," he began. Everyone at the table laughed. "But really, I don't do all that much. I collect things, paint a little, drive my cars ... Cook."

Richard nodded, still not sure what he did.

Viktoriya looked at him, her eyes bright. "Richard, will you play the piano for us?"

Richard glanced at Irina. "Now?"

"Please. I'd love to hear you play," Viktoriya pressed.

"Uh, well ... Okay." Richard sat for a moment, collecting his thoughts. I wonder if this is really a good idea... 

Irina stood up and smiled. "Since you cooked, Harvey, I will clean up. Please, enjoy Richard's playing."

She began to clear the table settings, so Richard got up and moved to the pianos, somewhat relieved. He wasn't sure he'd be all that great after all the food and wine, but not having Mrs. T. right there would lessen the pressure.

"Which piano should I play?" he asked.

"This one," Harvey said, indicating the one Irina had been playing earlier. "We can watch you play from the couch."

Harvey and Viktoriya made themselves comfortable on the couch near the piano, while Richard adjusted the bench, wondering what to perform for them.

"Do you want to hear anything in particular?" Richard said, stalling.

"Oh, he takes requests!" Harvey said amiably to Viktoriya. "Oiseax tristes?" he suggested.

Richard flinched and laughed nervously. "Don't know that one," he admitted. "Shouldn't have asked for requests, I guess."

"I was just giving you a difficult time of it," Harvey said, laughing. "Play what you like."

"I'm sure it will be lovely," Viktoriya added.

Richard suddenly felt very self-conscious at having the husband and daughter of one of the best pianists in the world sitting ten feet away, waiting for a private concert.

Richard figured he'd start with the Liszt. Usually, the technical brilliance of the piece more than overshadowed any mistakes, for the casual listener. Then again, these are hardly casual listeners,  Richard reminded himself, as he set his hands in position on the keys.

-------

From the kitchen, Irina heard the opening octaves sound throughout the house. She smiled, having guessed correctly which piece he would choose. It was his comfort piece right now. She had demanded the least changes in his technique for this piece, preferring to move to new material to unlock the new methods she was showing him.

Considering the situation, he was performing very well. There was an urgency, and even a flair in the playing, that caught her attention. She peeked out of the kitchen and caught Harvey's eye. He nodded, impressed. Irina smiled back at him.

Richard became more immersed in the playing with each passing minute. His posture changed as his body responded to the intensity of his concentration.

Irina noticed Viktoriya watching Richard intently. Her eyes took in his hands as they moved all across the keys. Earlier, at lunch, she had spoken to Richard many times about music, which had surprised Irina somewhat. Viktoriya had never shown more than an passing interest in playing piano, or in its methods. Yet at the table she had been fascinated by discussing specific pieces of music with Richard. Either she had been learning about piano repertoire, or something else was involved.

Irina wasn't concerned. Viktoriya was old enough to take care of herself. If she found Richard interesting, then things would happen as they might. One of the other piano faculty members at Wexford often said there was no faster way to loosen up creativity in music than to find a lover.

Irina chuckled as she returned to the kitchen. She was fairly certain Richard had two lovers already. If Viktoriya... 

Irina shrugged the thought aside. Viktoriya was only here for a few days. Irina had not invited Richard over to make a match with her daughter. I've been letting Harvey talk too much,  she thought, smiling.

-------

Richard finished the piece, and the low, final chord resonated for what seemed like an hour. Harvey and Viktoriya clapped heartily, and he turned to them, somewhat pleased. He had played much better than he had expected.

Viktoriya flashed him a winning smile, and Harvey nodded in appreciation.

"Excellent, Richard, truly excellent," he said sincerely.

"Yes, quite. Will you play another?" Viktoriya asked.

Richard nodded. "Sure. This is a movement from Beethoven."

Richard suddenly felt a surge of elation as he turned to the keys again. He could sense that they weren't just complimenting him out of politeness, but rather, they had really enjoyed his playing!

Richard calmed himself before beginning the opening theme. The chords brought him back several months, to the Wexford practice room where he had played this piece for Sandra and Emily. It was the first thing he had ever played for them, and he had discovered that night both the voices within the music and the love within his friends. It seemed ages ago, and yet he could still remember every moment of that evening, from the sudden discovery of the phrasing of the piece to the ethereal night back in the girls' room.

He wondered what the girls were up to.

For a moment, he forgot where he was, and then he caught sight of Irina sitting down beside Harvey on the couch. He swept the memories from his mind, and returned to the music at his hands. Feeling confident after the Liszt, he decided to try and play the piece with as much beauty as he could manage.

-------

Sunset light was filtering in through the skylights of the barn when Harvey showed Richard the last automobile on the tour.

"That's a serious collection, Harvey," Richard said.

"They've come and gone, throughout the years. But it is fun to have these at my disposal. Would you care for some tea?" Harvey asked, as they walked back along the automobiles.

"Tea? Sure, I'll have a cup."

Harvey led him to the corner of the barn, where an old wooden table and some chairs rested on a rug in front of a small kitchen area. A cupboard hung against the wall. Harvey threw it open, revealing a multitude of jars and boxes, stacked along with various cups and pots.

"What do you like?" Harvey asked. "I have all kinds of interesting teas."

"I'm not much of a tea drinker, so I don't know."

"Hmm..." Harvey hummed as he looked at the teas. "My choice, then?"

"Well, I'm up for something I've never had before," Richard said, feeling adventurous.

"That's the spirit," Harvey said. He selected a paper wrapped box from a shelf and set it on the table, and then took out two Chinese cups and a matching pot.

"Have a seat. I'll get the water going."

Richard sat in a chair, finding it surprisingly comfortable for hardwood.

"There will be some other guests coming to the house this evening," Harvey said, as he lit a gas burner and set a kettle of water on it. "You are welcome to stay. But, if you would prefer to go back to the conservatory, I can take you after have we have our tea."

"I don't have any plans for the evening," Richard said, "so I'd be happy to stay."

"Excellent. A couple of other students of Irina's will be here. Do you know Eric and Zhu-Ling?"

"I've met Eric," Richard said. "I don't really know them, though."

"Zhu-Ling goes by Julie. Well, they will be here, and some friends of Irina's and mine will be coming as well."

Harvey came and sat as the water began to heat up. He opened the box, revealing a block of dark, dry tea leaves. One corner was missing.

"This is Puer tea, from China. A wonderful and rare tea. I'd guess you have not tried it before?"

Richard eyed the block of tea. "No, I think it's safe to say I haven't. I've never seen tea like that."

"This was harvested and dried before you were born. In fact, long before I was born."

Harvey used a pick to remove some leaves from the corner of the block, and dropped them into the pot. From the burner, the tea kettle began making noise.

"Where did you get this tea?"

"In China," Harvey said, as he returned to the table with the kettle. "This is my second block. The first one took some coaxing, but now I have an in with the mother in the family, heh heh."

Harvey poured the water into the pot and closed the lid.

"Now we wait a few minutes," he said, smiling warmly.

Richard felt a wave of pleasure as he caught the aroma of the tea in the air. He was completely at ease around Harvey. There was something about the way Harvey lived which was so unfettered. Richard could imagine him finding pleasure even in the hardest of times.

"So you never really said what you did for a living," Richard said.

"Ah, but I did. I am a collector."

"Art?"

"Primarily, yes," Harvey said. "Have you been to the art museum?"

"Yes, during orientation we went."

"I was involved with acquiring a number of the pieces that you see there."

"Really?"

"Yes. Particularly in the contemporary wing. Here," Harvey said, pouring the tea into Richard's cup, and then into his own. "Best drunk as hot as you can stand it."

Richard took the cup into his hand and breathed in the aroma. It was earthy and thick. It was still too hot, so he waited.

Harvey took a sip of his. "Ahh. There's an ancient Chinese poem about tea, about seven cups. The poet describes the feelings he gets with each cup. For me, this tea brings out those feelings. Let the tea do its work."

Richard put the teacup to his lips and drank. The temperature was just bearable. He swallowed it quickly before it burned his mouth, and then felt the hot liquid coat his insides as it traveled to his stomach.

"That's different," Richard said.

Harvey chuckled. "Not quite Earl Grey, no."

"It tastes like ... the earth."

"Yes, like dirt, even!"

"Yeah, but it's not bad."

"The flavors will continue to change as we go," Harvey said. "Each cup also gets a little stronger."

Richard and Harvey sat in silence as they finished their first cup. There was an almost reverent feeling in the evening air, Richard thought.

"Do you paint?" Richard asked.

"Yes, I dabble in it."

"Do you have a studio in the house?"

"Yes, actually. On the far end. I can show you after we finish our tea."

"Cool. So how did you meet Mrs. Tertychnaya?"

"We met in Russia. I was there to dig up some art pieces, and happened to meet her through that. Thirty years ago, it was."

"Was she touring all over the world by then?"

"No, not quite," Harvey smiled. "She was still in conservatory at the time. But, she was already a fabulous pianist. I'll never forget the first time I heard her play for me in a practice room of the conservatory, shortly after we met. The hairs on my arm still stand up when I think of it."

Richard smiled, picturing a scene similar to his own first performance for Emily and Sandra.

"There's a power in playing music well, Richard. That was excellent playing earlier."

"Thanks," Richard said.

"There's nothing quite like it. Unlike a painting, music moves through time, and therefore you can shape the listener as you go. It is perhaps more like watching a sculptor at work, than seeing the final piece," Harvey mused. "And when you can do it well, people will be at your feet."

Richard said nothing, and drank his tea. He was feeling like the tea was cleansing his body. Warm ripples of energy swept up and down his body and limbs.

"On to the next cup?" Harvey said, as he lifted the teapot.

"Sure," Richard said. "What happens after the seventh?"

Harvey smiled. "You become immortal."

-------

Richard made his way to the bathroom, somewhat unsteadily. The wine was thick in his head, and the noise of conversation still lingered in his ears as he closed the door and set his wine glass on the bathroom vanity.

After finishing the seventh cup of tea, Richard had felt refreshed, having journeyed through a series of states that made him wonder what was actually in the tea. Then, immortality secured, Harvey and he had moved to the art studio.

Richard knew that Harvey didn't just dabble. Even Richard's untrained eye could appreciate the quality of the paintings. Several of the canvases were of nude dark-haired women, and even though Richard was somewhat embarrassed to look at them, he also wondered if they were of Irina.

The arrival of guests had interrupted the art studio tour. The next several hours had passed in a blur of wine and music. Richard often found himself at one of the pianos, sight reading music for two pianos with Eric or Julie, while the other guests watched. Among those in attendance were the director of the art museum and her husband, as well as several musicians from the orchestra. Eventually some twenty-five people were partying around the pianos as the musicians present took turns at the keys. Even though the atmosphere was very festive and informal, Richard found that the wine helped take away the nerves from being among such prominent musicians and guests.

Now he wondered what seven glasses of wine brought. A headache,  he thought.

Richard splashed some water on his face, and then exited the bathroom. Instead of returning to the boisterous living room, he wandered down the hallway, looking at the small paintings that hung on the walls.

"Hello, Richard."

Viktoriya was standing in the hallway behind him, with a wine glass in hand. Richard eyed her for a moment, standing there in her dark red dress, and suddenly he realized who had been the subject of the paintings he had seen in Harvey's studio.

"Hi."

"Are you having fun?" she asked.

"Yeah, for sure."

"You look a little worn out," Viktoriya said, smiling slightly.

Richard shrugged. "Too much playing."

"It's also very loud with all those people in the room."

"Yeah, I know what you mean! I came back here for a little break."

"Before you go show off again?" Viktoriya asked playfully.

"Show off?" Richard raised a brow, laughing. "Hardly."

Viktoriya smiled warmly. "I was going to get some air. It is so warm outside, for November. Will you join me?"

"Uh, well, okay."

Viktoriya walked towards Richard, keeping her gaze and smile on him. Richard tensed up for a second, wondering what she was doing, but then she walked past him.

"Come this way."

Richard followed, unable to keep his eyes off of Viktoriya walking before him. Her legs ... they were edible. At the same time, he wondered what he was getting into. He had hit it off with her at the dinner table, talking about music. She also really enjoyed my playing, apparently! Showing off?

Viktoriya turned the corner and then went out a side door of the house. Richard stepped out onto a stone balcony overlooking a hillside garden below. The starry night and bright moon lit the scene in a silvery glow. It was classically romantic.

Richard wished he was there with Sandra and Emily. He wondered what they were up to. They might be looking at the moon right then, just as he was.

"This is beautiful," Richard said, gazing out at the night garden. "Who keeps the garden up?"

"My mother."

"Really? I didn't know she did anything other than play piano," Richard said, laughing a little.

"It used to be that way. But now she likes to tend to her garden as well."

Richard tried to picture Irina out among the plants, but had a hard time of it.

"This used to be all wild growth," Viktoriya said. "Then my mother tamed it. I kind of liked it before, but this is nice too."

"You grew up here?"

"Yes. This house has been in my father's family for a long time."

"Do you like it better in New York?" Richard asked.

"No, not really. Though it is exciting to live there. There's nothing like the city."

"Yeah, that's true. But this is really nice," Richard said.

"Someday I'll come back. When I retire," Viktoriya said, laughing. "My parents have many years ahead of them. For now, I'll stay where the job is."

"You said you teach astronomy?"

"Yes, and I do research as well."

"How do you like it?"

"I love it."

"You must work at telescopes often."

Viktoriya laughed. "Hardly at all, to tell the truth. I work in the theoretical area, mostly. It is funny, since I got into astronomy by dreaming about the stars and looking through a telescope. Now I rarely see one. Even the stars are hard to see in New York."

"No, you can't see them very much from the city. Do you miss this sky?" Richard asked, gesturing to the sparkling heavens.

Viktoriya was silent for a moment. "I do. I got my start here, you know."

"Start?"

"My father acquired an antique telescope when I was really young, and installed it just around the hill there."

"Really?"

"No, I made that all up."

Richard laughed at her childlike retort. It was the first thing that Viktoriya had said that wasn't straight ahead. Well, except the thing about showing off... 

"Do you want to see it?" she asked. "It's really interesting. We can walk through the gardens first."

"Okay," Richard said.

"Wait here, and I'll get the keys," Viktoriya said, and then slipped back into the house.

Richard looked out over the garden, wondering again what his friends were doing off at Sandra's house. He couldn't wait until they returned.

Viktoriya returned quickly, holding an open bottle of wine. "Some more wine?"

Richard held out his glass.

"This way," Viktoriya said, after filling her glass as well. She started down the steps.

Richard laughed as he started down behind her.

"What's so funny?" Viktoriya asked.

"Well, this will be like the fourth or fifth tour I've taken at your house."

"It's that kind of place, what with my father collecting everything he does."

"When does he find time to work?"

Viktoriya chuckled. "Work?"

"Yeah. He said he worked with the art museum."

"Well, he's donated lots of art to the museum."

"Oh. I thought he was like a dealer or something."

"No."

"He doesn't sell art?"

"No. He's never worked in his life! He's a philanthropist."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense now. Well, he sure has fun doing it."

"Yes, my father is a character."

Richard and Viktoriya entered the garden and fell silent. He felt like he had jumped into a timeless world. The air was immediately cooler. The plants around him shimmered in the night light, and seemed to reach out to him as they passed. The chirping and singing of the insects, which on the balcony had seemed so distant, were now ever-present.

"Your mother did all this?" Richard asked quietly.

"Yes," Viktoriya replied.

Eventually they emerged through a gap in the hedges on the far side of the garden. After a short walk across the grassy slope, a domed building came into view. Richard watched the two-story structure loom up as they approached.

Viktoriya set the bottle of wine and her glass on the ground and then opened the door to the building. She entered the pitch black doorway, and disappeared for a second. Then the doorway turned faint red.

"Come in," her voice said, supported by a slight echo.

Richard stepped through the doorway and gaped at the long telescope flying above him, illuminated by several red lamps around the inside of the room.

"I wasn't quite picturing that, when you said a telescope!" Richard said.

Viktoriya was silent, also seeming to be transfixed by the instrument.

"I haven't been in here in a long time," she said, distantly.

They both stood there for a minute, taking in the surroundings.

"Does it still work?" Richard asked, at last.

"It should." She seemed to snap out of her trance, and then scanned some switches on the wall. She flipped one of them, and Richard heard the whine of a motor. A rectangle of stars began to open in the dome. He felt a rush of adrenaline as he stood rooted to the floor, looking up at the sky pouring in through the opening.

After the dome door reached the zenith, the motor went silent. Viktoriya flipped a few other switches, and then looked at Richard. Even in the strange red light, Richard could see her eyes flashing.

"I guess you can't know this, but I have so many memories in this place. They're all coming back right now."

Richard didn't know what to say, so he stayed silent. Viktoriya's professional manner had all but melted away, and her voice was suddenly young and emotional.

For a few moments, she simply looked at Richard, or perhaps past him. Then she sighed deeply.

"Let's look at the sky," she said.

Viktoriya pushed a set of wheeled stairs around from the far wall, and positioned it under the telescope. Then she selected an object from a wooden box in a nearby cabinet.

"Eyepiece," she explained, as she tossed her heels off and climbed up the stairs.

Richard watched as she made adjustments to the eyepiece and focusing mechanisms, and moved the telescope slightly.

"Richard, push the stairs a little, from the front."

Richard did so, keeping the movement slow so he wouldn't upset her balance. Above him, Viktoriya swung the telescope to a new position. Her deep red dress was even more so in the lighting, and her bare legs glowed faintly as she worked the instrument into place.

"There, that's about right."

Richard was surprised to see the gap in the dome moving to keep the telescope pointed through it. Only a faint vibration betrayed the motors at work.

Viktoriya spent a few moments peering through the small telescope attached to the side of the large one, and making small movements. She then checked through the large telescope.

"Ahh, there it is."

She flipped a handle on the side of the telescope, and then looked through the eyepiece for half a minute, adjusting some knobs. Then she turned and looked down at Richard.

"Come up and look."

Richard climbed the steps slowly, feeling unsteady from the strange lighting, or the wine. He reached the step below the one Viktoriya was on, and she moved aside slightly so he could peer into the eyepiece. He found himself having to press against her some to get a good angle.

"A star cluster," she whispered.

Richard found the right spot to keep his eye, and a burst of hundreds of colored stars appeared before his eyes. The sharpness of the stars, and their sheer number took his breath away. It was not like anything he was expecting to see.

"Are all those stars really that close to each other?" he asked.

"Yes. They're all clumped together. Can you imagine what it would be like to be in the center?"

Richard felt a chill run down his spine. He pulled away from the eyepiece, and looked up into the sky through the gap in the dome. There was no indication there of anything like he was seeing.

"That's ... awesome," Richard whispered.

"Would you like to see more?" Viktoriya whispered back.

Richard realized he was still pressed against her, and moved back some.

"Another tour?" he said, smiling.

"Sure."

"I'd love to."

-------

"Seven," Viktoriya said, pointing.

A bright trail of light hung in the sky for a few moments before fading away into the night again.

She and Richard were lying side by side on a chaise-lounge in the garden, watching for meteors. Viktoriya had procured some blankets from the telescope building before they had closed it down, and they were quite warm lying under them.

For several hours, Richard had pushed the ladder around while Viktoriya had selected objects in the sky to look at. He felt like he had seen a new world. The sight of several meteor trails flashing through the dome opening had eventually led to finding a place to watch the minor shower.

"Eight," Richard added.

They had finished the last of the wine, and Richard was glad he was lying down and not climbing the steps to the telescope anymore. A few times he had lost his balance and crashed into Viktoriya on the steps, amidst much laughter. Now, he felt like he was floating through the ethereal sky. Body and earth had faded away.

"Are you seeing someone?" Her voice came gently next to his ear.

Richard's head exploded with a thousand thoughts at once.

"Yes," he said.

"I'm only here for a few days, before I go back to New York."

There was an implication in her voice that Richard didn't miss, even in his state. Richard felt completely uninhibited at that moment.

"You are very attractive, Viktoriya," he said quietly.

She turned her body to face him, and draped a bare leg over him. He knew she had removed her heels again.

"As are you, Richard," she responded. "But I understand."

She ran a hand across his shirt, and then kissed him softly on the cheek.

"This has been a wonderful night," she said. "I'm glad you stayed."

"Me too."

For a long time they were still. Richard saw several more meteors, but didn't say anything. For a while he felt as if he could feel the earth turning beneath him, bringing new stars into view as others shimmered away into the thick horizon. He wished he could be with Emily and Sandra at that moment. Then things faded away, and the last thing he sensed was Viktoriya's even breathing beside him.

-------

III. Taglioni

It was a brisk afternoon, so Vittorio pulled his scarf tight around his neck as he walked to the international arrivals terminal at JFK airport. He was a little nervous, since he hadn't told his sister that Richard would not be coming home for Thanksgiving. Ever since her husband, Marco, had passed away, Maria had grown so much more sensitive to everything. Vittorio was worried she would want to change her trip or cancel it altogether if she knew Richard was not going to be there.

Better to get her here first,  he thought. Then I'll break the news.

The terminal was crowded, and Vittorio fought his way through the maze of luggage and people to reach the waiting area where arriving passengers spilled out from the customs check. To his surprise, Maria was already there, dressing in black and looking around anxiously.

"Maria!" he called as he approached.

Maria looked relieved as she spotted him. "Vittorio, how are you?"

Naturally, with Maria not speaking English, their conversation proceeded in Italian.

"Good, good," Vittorio said, as he took her into a hug. "Am I late?"

"No, we arrived early."

"Early? Unheard of!" Vittorio laughed a little as he hefted her suitcases. "Let's go. The car is not far."

"Is Riccardo here yet?"

"No. Riccardo ... it looks like he won't be able to come back this weekend."

"Oh, why not?"

"He's staying at the school because his piano teacher invited him to have dinner."

"I'm sorry he will not be here," Maria said.

"I think you will be able to see him before you go back. It depends on his exams at college."

"He must really be enjoying it at the school."

"Yes, I think so."

"I was looking forward to hearing him play."

"It may be that he can come home before you leave."

"I hope so," Maria said, though her voice was flat.

-------

"Why don't you go sit with Maria?" Angelina asked Vittorio.

Vittorio looked at his wife with arched brow. "She said she wanted to be alone for a while. What do you want me to do?"

Angelina shrugged. "Eh, I don't know. She came so far, just to sit on the couch and stare off into the air..."

"I know. But she still thinks about Marco."

"Yes, but ... It's been a few years now. It seems unhealthy."

"I've tried to talk to her for the last two days, but nothing. I don't know. Tomorrow we have everyone coming, so I need to cook, now," Vittorio said.

"She doesn't want to help us?"

"No."

Angelina sighed. "Maybe the party tomorrow will help her."

"Maybe," Vittorio said glumly.

The sound of a truck engine made Vittorio look out the front window.

"Are you waiting for a package?" Vittorio asked his wife.

"No, not that I know of," Angelina replied.

Vittorio wiped his hands on the dishtowel that hung from his belt, and went to the front door. The deliveryman handed Vittorio a small, flat box and had him sign for it.

Vittorio frowned at the label, and then his face brightened. "Angelina, look! It's something from Riccardo!"

He went back to the kitchen, holding the box out for her to see.

"What is it?"

"I don't know."

"Well, open it!"

Vittorio took one of the knives and slit the tape. Then he opened the box and pulled out a CD and a piece of paper.

"Ma, Pa e Zia: Happy Thanksgiving. Riccardo," Vittorio read. "He was always a man of few words," he added, as he checked on the back of the paper for more, chuckling.

"What's the CD?" Angelina asked.

The case had a blank insert, but Richard's handwriting was on the silver CD face itself.

"I think it's a CD of him playing!" Vittorio exclaimed.

"Really? But how did he make a CD?" Angelina frowned at the handwriting.

"I don't know. He must have recorded it at the college. Let's go listen to it."

Vittorio hurried to the living room. "Maria, look here! This came in the mail. Now you can hear Riccardo playing!"

Maria looked up, confused. Vittorio powered up the stereo and dropped the CD into the tray.

Richard's voice came over the speakers.

"Hello, Zia, Ma, and Pa. I'm sorry I couldn't be home this weekend. I made this recording of a few of the pieces I'm playing right now. I hope you like it."

"He still speaks Italian well," Maria noted.

"And why not? We speak it with him," Vittorio said.

"If he was at college, he would maybe lose some of it."

"I don't think so. It's his first language. One never loses that," Angelina said.

The first piece began. Vittorio recognized it: it was a piece Richard had started working on last summer before he went away. There was a new authority in his playing on the CD that was immediately obvious.

"This is Riccardo?" Maria asked after about thirty seconds of playing.

"Yes."

"It's really good!" she said, surprise in her voice. "Bravo, Riccardo!"

It was really good. Vittorio was, at first, too surprised and moved by the fact that Richard had sent a recording to even consider the quality of playing. But as the piece progressed, he realized that he was listening to his own son, and he would be hard pressed to differentiate it from a professional recording.

Angelina took Vittorio's hand as they sat on the couch, listening intently as Richard filled the room with piano music. Maria had a smile on her face.

Vittorio felt the pride tightening his throat. Richard's development as a pianist — in only three months! — with his teacher's guidance, was incredible. Vittorio could still recognize the playing as Richard's, but there was a whole new layer of sophistication apparent in the music. Vittorio struggled in his mind to describe to himself what it was, but being untrained in music, he could only recognize the musicality.

The CD was overwhelming. By the end of the piece, Vittorio's eyes were wet.

A second track started. It was a movement of Beethoven, Vittorio recognized. Again, he was struck by the beauty of the playing. Only a few mistakes betrayed that it wasn't a real album playing.

When the Beethoven piece finished, the three of them sat for a moment, waiting to see if there was a third selection. The CD stopped.

"It's finished," Vittorio said quietly.

"How beautiful!" Maria exclaimed, clearly pleased and impressed.

"Yes, that was a good surprise," Angelina said. "Don't you think, Vittorio?"

Vittorio was silent, and nodded.

Angelina squeezed an arm around his shoulder, and then stood. "I'm going to start making the pasta."

"I'll help you," Maria said, following her sister-in-law into the kitchen.

Vittorio sat for a time on the couch, before he reached for the phone and dialed Richard's number. He wasn't surprised to get the answering machine.

"Hello, Riccardo." Vittorio paused for a very long moment. "You made me very happy today. Thank you. Zia Maria and Mama liked it too. I am so proud of you. Have a good dinner with your teacher. Call us when you can, my son. Ciao, Riccardo."

Vittorio hung up the receiver, and then went to the stereo system and pressed the play button, and then the repeat button. As Richard's greeting began again, Vittorio smiled and went to the kitchen to help with the cooking.

-------

"This is just like old times," Vittorio said, as he chopped up the garlic and parsley. The aroma mixed with the fragrance of fresh basil that already hung in the air. Angelina and Maria were making the pasta, pressing the semolina mix through the metal hand-cranked machine. The long sheets would then be cut into strips.

"Old times?" Angelina asked.

"It's been many years since we all cooked together," Vittorio said.

Maria began to speak, but Vittorio held up his hand. "Wait..."

He listened for a few moments to the music.

"How I like that part!" he said ecstatically.

"Beautiful," Maria agreed. "How is it going for him, at college?"

"I think it is going well. But he doesn't call us very much, and when he does, he always seems to be in a hurry."

"Such is youth," Maria said, knowingly.

"Yes, that's how it is," Angelina agreed.

"When we were kids, we always had a thousand things to do as well," Maria reminded them.

Vittorio laughed. "And yet, we still talked with Mama and Papa every night. It's a different world now."

"When we were his age, we were already courting our spouses!"

"Eh, I suppose that's true," Vittorio admitted.

"Does Riccardo have a girlfriend?" Maria asked.

"Eh, I don't know. He's mentioned a few friends who are girls. But ... Sometimes I have to pull the information out of him, it seems." Vittorio laughed suddenly. "His roommate is called 'Chair', which means chair in English."

"What kind of name is that?" Maria said, laughing a little.

"Eh, I don't know."

"You probably misunderstood him," said Angelina.

"No, I asked him twice!" Vittorio said.

"No one is called 'Chair'. That's ridiculous!" Angelina dismissed.

"Really!" Maria agreed. "You should see about a hearing aid for my brother, Angelina." Maria playfully nudged Vittorio in the ribs with her elbow, and gave him both a smile and a frown at the same time.

Vittorio poured the tomatoes from the jars into the pot, and stirred it with the wooden spoon. He smiled to himself, happy to see that Maria had suddenly come out of her slump.

-------

After dinner, Maria and Angelina were out shopping for some last things for the big Thanksgiving meal. Vittorio finished drying the last pot, and put it away in the cupboard. The CD was still playing in the living room, for perhaps the fourth or fifth time.

Vittorio walked to the stereo and stood listening to the end of the second piece. After it finished quietly, he turned off the stereo and went over to the grand piano in the corner.

The house was suddenly very still. The piano had not been opened since Richard left. Vittorio couldn't wait to hear his son playing live for him. The CD was just a teaser. His playing had improved so much...

Vittorio opened the lid of the piano, and sat on the bench. He could imagine his fingers dancing over the keys, bringing out the most beautiful of melodies. Complicated and exciting runs played in his head. He could see it, now! All he had to do was play, like Richard did...

He fingered a few awkward notes, unable to remember anything of what Richard had taught him over the years. How Richard could play like that was completely beyond him.

Quietly closing the lid, he stood and went to the kitchen to fix himself an espresso.

Perhaps when I retire, I'll finally have the time to learn to play... 

-------

IV. Noverre

"He's here!" Sandra said, looking out the window to the parking lot. "Let's go down."

Richard hefted the suitcase with their clothing, and Sandra and Emily took up their backpacks with books. Emily also had her horn case in hand.

"You really think we're going to do any studying?" Emily asked, as she weighed the bag in her hand.

Sandra shrugged. "We can at least pretend we will," she offered.

As they rode down in the elevator, Richard was understandably quiet.

"We'll call you when we get there," Sandra said, putting a gentle hand on his arm.

"Okay."

"We'll miss you," Emily added, giving him one last goodbye kiss. They had said their real goodbyes in the room already.

"Me too. I'll be waiting for Saturday, that's for sure," he said.

"Us too."

The elevator door slid open, and Sandra led them out to her father's car.

"Hi Daddy!" she exclaimed, as she ran to her father. They hugged for a moment before Sandra turned and introduced her friends.

"Hello, Mr. d'Arcy," Emily said cheerily. "Thanks for coming to get us."

"No problem," he said amicably. "You can call me Robert," he added.

Richard shook hands with him.

"I hear you are an amazing pianist," Robert said.

"Oh, who told you that?" Richard said, looking at Sandra.

"Yolande and I are looking forward to hearing you all play in April."

"Good. I think it will be a good recital."

"Are you hungry?" Sandra asked her dad.

"No, I'm okay. Looks like you are all ready to go?"

"Yes, this is it."

"Well, give me a few more minutes to stretch the old legs here, and then we'll be off. It's hot here too. It was just about eighty degrees yesterday at the house," Robert said.

"Yeah, heat wave or something," Richard said. "Well, it was nice meeting you. I'm going to get back to my practicing." He waved to Robert, and then gave Sandra and Emily each a brief hug. "Call me."

"We will," Sandra said.

Richard waved again, and then made his way back to the dorm entrance.

After loading up their bags in the trunk, Robert announced he was ready, so they got into the car. Robert stifled a yawn as he stretched his arms out.

"You must have gotten up really early," Emily observed.

"I'm used to it."

"Do you want me to drive?" Sandra asked him.

"No, no, that's all right. Just keep me entertained with some stories from school!" he said.

"Oh, we can do that," Emily said.

Sandra laughed. "I haven't told you about Dr. Dobra..."

-------

Emily stepped out of the car, happy to be done with the long drive. She felt bad for Sandra's father, who had made double the journey. He had insisted on doing the round-trip in one day. The last two hours, however, Sandra had to take the wheel, as Robert was getting tired.

"Well, here we are," Robert said. "Thanks for driving, sweetie."

"Thank you! That was a long trip for you."

"Wasn't too bad. We don't need to do it again for a few days, at least."

Sandra pouted, and then hugged her father. "It's good to be home," she said, taking a deep breath.

Emily looked around at the farmhouse and surrounding land. Everything was illuminated in the beautiful red light of the receding sun. After the endless drone of the tires, the sudden quiet was paradise. A few birds were singing their last songs for the evening, and occasionally the wind played harp through the bare tree branches.

"It is warm here," she remarked to Sandra, who was busy getting out their bags from the trunk.

"Yeah, not too bad."

"We've had a run of good weather for the last few days," Robert said. "This is great weather for late November."

The girls rejected Robert's offer to carry the suitcase, and instead sent him ahead to alert Sandra's Mom of their arrival, while Sandra pointed out landmarks on the property.

"You have a lot of cars," Emily said with a laugh.

"Oh, no, these are all my relatives' cars. They're here helping with the meal."

"I didn't know we were eating tonight."

"We're not. But they come help make stuff the night before. We have a big family. Come on, let's go inside and you can meet a few of them."

-------

"A few of them?" Emily whispered to Sandra when there was a break in the introductions. The giant kitchen was a factory of cooks, women and men, working on different dishes.

Sandra laughed. "Do you remember anyone's name?"

"No, not at all," Emily admitted.

"Heh heh, don't worry; sometimes I don't either. Let's put our stuff away," Sandra said.

The two of them went deeper into the house. The great room was occupied by a long row of tables, partially place set.

"Damn. You weren't kidding. How many people are coming to dinner tomorrow?"

"I don't know. Usually about thirty people come for the meal."

"Thirty!"

"A lot more come later for dessert and fun."

"That's a lot of dessert!"

"Half those people in the kitchen have just been making pies all day long. From scratch."

"Wow. I guess my being here isn't a big deal, then."

Sandra stopped walking, and turned to Emily. "Of course it is! I'm really happy you are here."

"It's a bit overwhelming to see a table that big."

"Don't worry, usually by about midnight tomorrow night, everyone gets tired of each other and goes home. It won't be insane all weekend."

"Okay. I'm just not used to this kind of thing."

Sandra smiled. "I know. We'll have fun."

Emily nodded as she followed Sandra into her room.

"So since there's a bunch of people, you can sleep in my bed, and I'll sleep on that cot there," Sandra said.

"Well, I don't mind the cot," Emily said.

"I'll take the cot. My Mom won't let me hear the end of it if I make you sleep in the cot."

"Is it uncomfortable?"

"No, it's nice actually."

"Okay," Emily said, with a shrug.

"Let's go see if my Mom is back from getting eggs."

"Kind of funny, I've met ten people, and not your Mom yet."

-------

Mrs. d'Arcy was not in the kitchen, so Sandra and Emily went out behind the house and into the twilight.

"This is beautiful," Emily said, looking around at the ruddy illuminated view of the land.

"It's home," Sandra said simply.

There was a light on in the henhouse, and Sandra and Emily caught Mrs. d'Arcy just as she was exiting with a bowl of eggs. Over the noise from the hens, she must not have heard them approach, and jumped slightly when she turned and saw them right before her.

"Oh, Sandrine, you scared me!" she exclaimed, putting the bowl down on a nearby stump so she could hug her daughter. "How are you?"

"Great, Mom! How are you?"

Mrs. d'Arcy pulled back, and smiled exasperatedly. "You know how today is!"

"Yeah. This is Emily, my roommate."

Mrs. d'Arcy gave Emily a warm hug. "A pleasure. Sandrine has told me much about you! How was your trip?"

Emily laughed. "It was fine, thanks. Sorry we took your husband away from the house today. Looks like he was needed."

"Robert? No, he's useless in the kitchen! Though if I knew you had arrived, I would have had him get the eggs for me..."

"Can we help?" Emily asked.

"Oh, no, you are our special guests, so please relax and enjoy yourselves."

"Are you sure... ?"

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry we can't sit and have a quiet moment together tonight. It may have to wait until after the meal tomorrow," Mrs. d'Arcy said with an apologetic smile.

"Of course. Thanks for having me."

"Any time, Emily." She sighed. "I guess I better get back inside. Someone has to keep everyone on task."

She headed for the house.

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Do you ... want these?" Sandra held the bowl of eggs out.

"Oh..." Mrs. d'Arcy burst out laughing. "To think that was why I came out here!"

Sandra gave the bowl to her Mom, and this time she went to the house without incident.

"Your family is so nice," Emily remarked after the porch door clacked shut.

"Thanks."

"This is about as opposite as you can get to my family."

"What would you do for Thanksgiving?"

Emily sniffed. "Eat out."

"That's not bad. Sometimes on the Friday morning after, when I'd spend hours cleaning dishes, I often wished we could have Thanksgiving at a restaurant."

"I'd do dishes for three days to have this," Emily said. "Even though it's a little scary being around so many people that know each other."

Sandra pulled Emily into a hug. "I'm really glad you're here. If you're feeling overwhelmed, just give me a sign and we can go somewhere more quiet and hang out."

"Thanks. I wonder what Richard's doing?"

"I don't know. We should call him, though," Sandra said.

"Yeah, good idea."

-------

Sandra closed the door to her room, and Emily sat on the bed as she dialed.

"Hi Richard!" Sandra said.

She sat down next to Emily. "Yeah, we got here fine. How are you?"

"Aw, I'm sorry." Sandra pouted at Richard's words. "Only a few days, and we'll be back."

"Your teacher's house will be fun too."

"Nice. You'll have to tell us all about it later."

"I don't know. Probably just chilling out until we go to bed."

"Want to say hi to Emily?" Sandra passed the phone to her.

"Hi!" Emily said cheerily.

"There's like a thousand people here."

"Yeah, it's amazing. Thirty people are coming for dinner tomorrow!"

"Not me. It's pretty different from how I grew up."

"I know. Everyone is super nice. Hey, guess what Sandra's Mom calls her."

"No, silly."

"Just guess."

Emily burst out laughing.

"What did he say?" Sandra asked.

Emily whispered "Pumpkin" to Sandra, who also started laughing.

"No, no. She calls her Sandrine," Emily said to Richard.

"He likes it," Emily said to Sandra.

"Here, you can talk to Sandrine. Bye."

Sandra took the phone from Emily. "So you like that name, huh?"

"Does it turn you on?" Sandra said, her voice becoming immediately suggestive.

"A few more days, and then..."

" ... and then we'll be back. We're not leaving the room for twenty-four hours."

"We're going to go wild. I'm already getting excited thinking about it."

"I'm not teasing! You better save up some energy."

"We're going to lock you in the room and..." Sandra and Emily both giggled.

"And do things to you."

"Yeah." More giggling.

"You'll just have to wait and see."

"Hmm?"

"Tell me."

"Oh, is Jer there?"

"Well at least you have some company. Something to distract you while you think of all the wild sex we're going to have in a few days."

"Be ready! We'll call you tomorrow."

"We will. Bye."

Sandra turned off the phone.

"That was so mean," Emily said.

"Too much?" Sandra asked her.

"No, I love it! Poor boy..."

The two girls shared a laugh, and then headed towards the kitchen to brave the crowd.

-------

Thanksgiving day was full of food and festivity. As promised, over thirty guests were present for the meal. The day passed quickly, first by helping the d'Arcys prepare for the meal, and then by enjoying it.

"Holy crap, I'm so full!" Emily exclaimed. "And a little drunk, too!"

"Yeah, I had a little too much wine."

Sandra and Emily had escaped to the bathroom in the midst of roaring conversation.

"I needed a little too much wine. It's loud out there!"

"How are you holding up?" Sandra asked her sincerely.

"All right. It's actually been a really fun day."

"Good, I'm glad."

After looking at each other for a moment, they pressed their lips together and kissed sweetly.

"Mmm ... I've missed that today," Emily said.

"Me too. I really wish Richard was here. I feel a little bad leaving him out."

"I know."

"But at the same time, you feel really good," Sandra said, running a hand down Emily's back.

"Tingly... !"

There was a knock on the door.

"Busy!" they both said at the same time, and then looked at each other, eyes wide.

"Sorry!" came the voice. Boots clunked off along the wood floor.

"We could just be fixing our makeup," Sandra offered by way of explanation.

"Yeah, makeup which we don't really wear..."

The girls giggled.

"You know, if the cot gets uncomfortable tonight..." Emily said.

Sandra looked at her with flashing eyes. "We've never done that, without Richard there," she said shyly.

"Well, I don't think he's coming down tonight..."

Sandra was a little flushed. "I want to go to my room with you right now."

"Now?"

"I'm feeling so turned on. I can't wait until Saturday."

"You think it's safe?"

"Probably not. My cousins go in there all the time without knocking."

"We can lock the door."

"That would never last. They'd be knocking every minute," Sandra said, her tone cooling down. "I think we have to wait until tonight."

There was another knock.

"We're almost done!" Sandra called out. "Just finishing our makeup!" They giggled slightly.

Whoever knocked didn't answer, but stepped a few paces away to wait.

"I guess we have to get out of here," Emily whispered. "We'll have fun tonight after everyone leaves."

"If we're still awake!" Sandra whispered back.

They kissed heatedly for a few moments, and then fixed their hair in the mirror.

"Ready?" Emily asked.

"I'm ready for anything!" Sandra said.

She opened the door, and stood rooted to the spot, in shock.

-------

"I can't believe he's here!" Sandra said, as she chewed another bite of pie.

"Why not? You said everyone comes to your party," Emily mumbled.

"I know. But I forgot about him."

"So what?"

"I just wasn't ready to see him all of the sudden. I must have looked awful, all flushed and stupid."

"You were fine. He looked really happy to see you, too."

"I guess."

"He's handsome, too."

"Nah. Richard's much better looking."

Emily smiled. It was comparing apples and oranges. Billy was a Midwesterner through and through, and didn't bear any resemblance to Richard. But both were really good looking, Emily had to admit.

"Well, here he comes again," Emily said.

"You talk to him, so I don't look so stupid," Sandra said quickly.

"Oh, Sandra..."

Billy and a friend walked up to the girls, holding beers. In the dark, Emily couldn't make out his friend's features under the hat he wore, but he was also tall and well built like Billy.

"Evening, ladies," Billy said in his rich voice.

"Hi Billy," Sandra said.

"You remember Kyle, right?" he said.

Sandra rolled her eyes. She practically grew up with these two boys. "No, I don't think we've met. Hi, I'm Sandra."

"Oh, cut it out, Sandra," Kyle said, playfully patting her hand aside. The two guys turned their attention to Emily.

"I'm sorry, I forgot your name already," Billy said to her.

"Um, I don't think we really met when we escaped from the bathroom. Emily."

"Emily." Billy nodded. "This is my friend Kyle."

"Hello Kyle. I don't think I know anyone named Kyle."

Kyle tipped his hat. "Well now you do. Nice to meet you, Emily," he said. "And you too, Sandra."

Sandra made a face at him.

Suddenly from the dirt clearing behind the house, people cheered. Sandra's Dad was carrying a torch towards the large pile of wood that had been assembled. He touched the flames to the pile in a few places, and within moments the logs and palettes burst into light. People stepped back away from the heat.

"Nice. He spiked it with gas," Kyle observed. "Your dad always knows how to throw a party, Sandra."

"What are you gals up to this weekend?" Billy asked.

"Just visiting the family, you know," Sandra said vaguely. "We're leaving on Saturday."

"Nice. I didn't know if you'd be coming back for Thanksgiving."

There was some silence as the four of them watched the flames grow higher. Sparks flew up into the night sky.

"Don't the fire department come and get mad?" Emily said.

Sandra started laughing. "Don't?"

"What?"

"You said, 'Don't the fire department... '!"

"What? No, I said 'Doesn't the fire department... '"

Sandra started laughing, and so did the two guys.

"You said 'don't'," Kyle agreed, almost apologetically. "Here for a day, and already talkin' like us here hicks."

Emily laughed. "I guess I did say 'don't'. But seriously, doesn't anyone get worried and call the fire department?" Emily looked up at the twenty foot flames.

"They did call the fire department," Kyle said. "That guy over there with the moustache holding that pretty lady is the fire chief."

"Oh." Emily said.

"Police chief is over there," Kyle added, pointing.

"It's a good night to be naughty, then," Emily said. A moment later, as her words sunk in, she tried to amend them. "I mean ... since the cops are all here, and ... Like if you were going to do something bad."

Kyle and Billy were trying to keep straight faces.

"Don't mind her, she's a little ... tired," Sandra said. "Or drunk!" she then blurted out.

"Sandra!"

"I'm going to get another beer, either of you two girls like one?" Kyle asked.

"Sure," Emily said.

Sandra considered for a moment, before also agreeing to one.

"Billy?"

Billy nodded, and finished his bottle in one long slug.

A couple of men standing near Kyle overheard the offer, and asked Kyle to grab a few for them.

"I only got two hands, boys. I need some help."

"I'll go," Emily offered, and before Sandra could say a word, Emily and Kyle were on their way to the ice barrel around the side of the house.

Sandra was alone with Billy.

-------

"So you're Sandra's roommate?" Kyle asked.

"Yeah."

"You play music too, then?"

"French horn."

"Really? I played that for about six months, then I had to quit."

"Why?"

"My older brother tried to use my horn to do beer funnels."

"Doesn't work," Emily said, not missing a beat.

Kyle laughed heartily. "No, it don't work too well. My parents weren't too happy. They had to pay the school a bunch of money to replace the thing. Never got another instrument."

"Why? Wasn't it your brother's fault if he was doing the funnels?"

"Yeah, but I was pouring the beer..."

Emily sniggered. Kyle reached into the giant ice bucket and pulled out two beers, opening one and handing it to Emily.

"Cheers!" he offered.

"Cheers!"

"So do you like it?" Kyle asked.

""Playing horn? Yeah. There's a billion flute players, and another billion violin players, and singers. Not as may horn players. But it's not an outcast instrument like the bassoon, you know."

"Outcast instrument?" Kyle chuckled.

"Well..."

"Does Sandra drive you crazy when she sings all day in your room?"

"No, not at all."

"That's good. When we were growing up, she'd sing all the time! I always thought it would be hard to live with her."

"I guess I'm used to it."

"Does she play the fiddle much up at school?"

"Fiddle?"

"Yeah."

"No, I didn't even know she played."

"Really? She's real good. I didn't never care much for her singing, but she can play a fine fiddle."

"You mean like a violin?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm. Didn't know."

"Maybe she'll play later."

"Later?"

"There's always music and dancing."

As if on cue, a band started playing from the direction of the fire.

"See?" Kyle said, smiling. "Come on, let's go see what's going on. Do you dance?"

"Um, not really. Don't we ... need some beers?"

"Beers? Oh, right, I forgot what we came for!"

Kyle dug into the icy water and grabbed a handful of bottles in his big grip.

"Can I help?" Emily offered, reaching for one of the five he had dangling in his fingers.

"Naw, I got it."

Emily smiled to herself, and followed Kyle back to the fire.

-------

"I'm glad you came back this weekend," Billy said. "It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you too," Sandra said.

"How's school?"

"Um, good, you know. Learning a lot, playing music all the time. It's fun."

"Emily seems nice."

"She's great. I couldn't have asked for a better roommate. How's school for you?"

"I'm getting by. Some of it seems useless. I don't know why I need to take some of these stupid history classes, for what I want to do."

Sandra laughed. "Same here. We have some music classes which are really hard, but don't really help much with singing."

"Hey, well, it's part of the whole thing. So they say, anyway," Billy said. "It's good to see you."

"You said that already," Sandra reminded him.

"Oh yeah. It's true though. You look great. Really happy."

"I am. I'm doing what I love."

Billy nodded. "How come you didn't never write to me?"

"Write? I ... I don't know. You know we broke things off before we left."

Billy scuffed at the ground with his boot.

"I don't even have your address at school," Sandra explained.

"Yeah, I know. Still, it would've been nice to hear from you. You could have sent something to my house."

Sandra took a long breath. "I've been busy. I mean, I'm off doing my thing, and you're doing yours. We knew it would be like that."

"Yeah, you're right," Billy said quickly.

There was an awkward silence. Sandra glanced around, hoping to see Emily and Kyle returning.

"So have you — " Billy began, but he was interrupted by some light applause and cheers.

Big Ed had his bass out, and three or four others were unpacking guitars and fiddles from cases. Robert had set up a single microphone and plugged it into an amplifier that sat on an old wooden chair. The band gathered around it, spacing themselves so they could gain access to the amplification when singing or playing the lead.

Sandra took a deep breath. She knew what this meant. At least she wouldn't have to suffer the silence with Billy much longer.

"Looks like they're all still at it," Billy remarked.

As the band launched into a shuffle, people began to clap and dance around the fire. The flames illuminated all the dust that kicked up from boots, and the ruddy clouds that snaked in and around the dancers looked like bronze fog. Sandra watched, feeling somewhat distant. Where is Emily,  she wondered?

At last, Emily and Kyle appeared from around the house, laughing about something. As they approached, Sandra felt some concern. Emily seemed to be walking a little unsteadily, and was leaning on Kyle a little too much.

After Kyle passed out his beers, including one for Sandra, she beckoned to Emily.

"I need to use the bathroom," Sandra said.

"I'll come with you," Emily answered, catching the hint.

"We'll be back in a moment. Hold our beers?" Sandra asked Billy. He complied, and Emily followed Sandra away from the ring of people towards the house.

Instead of going inside, Sandra walked around the side of the house to where it was quiet, and then off a little ways into a stand of trees nearby. At last Sandra stopped, and turned to Emily.

"What are you doing?" Sandra asked.

"What?"

"You're flirting with Kyle like crazy!"

"No way!"

"You were hanging all over him when you came back from getting the beers."

Emily frowned. "I am a little drunk," she admitted.

"Do you want to go to sleep?"

"No, I'm having a good time," Emily said. "Are you okay? You seem a little uptight."

Sandra sighed. "I ... I don't know."

Emily's demeanor grew suddenly sober. "What's up? Is it because of what happened last week? Because..."

Sandra interrupted. "No, no ... I'm sorry."

"What is it?"

Another sigh. "It's really weird seeing Billy."

"Why?"

"Why? We went out for over two years."

"But you broke up, I thought?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

"But?" Emily prodded.

"We still went through a lot," Sandra said.

"Do you ... Hmm. Why is it weird to see him?" Emily asked.

"He's being all nice to me."

"And that's bad?" Emily asked.

"I didn't really want to see him at all."

Emily sat down and leaned back against a tree. In the distance, applause roared as the band finished a song. Sandra sat down next to her. The moon withdrew behind some clouds, and the night suddenly felt cold.

"I haven't really thought much about my old life in the last three months," Sandra said. "This is where I grew up. These people have been in my life forever. It's good to be back, but also kind of strange. I miss it, now that I'm here. But I also miss Richard. And I miss you, even though you're here. That's sounds stupid, I know."

"No, I know what you mean."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You're different here," Emily said. "You are more like the person who came into my room last August in awe of the place. The person who told everyone about chasing pigs at the orientation meeting."

Sandra laughed slightly, but didn't say anything.

"So you're a little different. Just go with the flow, Sandra. Do you still love Billy?"

Sandra plucked a stem of grass and twirled it around her finger.

"No," she said at last.

"No?"

"No, I don't."

"So what's bothering you then?" Emily asked.

"I was afraid of what I would feel if I saw him. When I saw him."

"Afraid you'd want to get back together with him?"

"No. Afraid we'd be finished."

Emily sat in silence for a time. "But you are, right? You want to be?"

Sandra stood all at once. "Yes, of course, of course. It's nothing like that, don't worry."

Emily shrugged.

"It's just..." Sandra sighed, unable to find the words.

Emily stood as well, and put a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to tell me."

"I don't even know what I'm trying to say."

"Maybe it will come to you later."

Sandra turned to Emily, and pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry I got all snappy about Kyle."

"Don't worry about it. I'm just toying with him. Sometimes that's what I do with guys. I'm not going to make the same mistake I made with Joel. Ever."

Sandra stepped out of the hug, and gave Emily a smile. "Well, don't mess with him too bad..."

"I won't. Hey, what do we say if someone asks about boyfriends?"

"We're both taken," Sandra said simply.

"Okay."

"Simple as that. And it's true."

"Wonder what he's up to?" Emily said.

"Partying at his teacher's house, probably. Or maybe looking at the moon right now."

Sandra and Emily turned their eyes to the white disc in the sky as it emerged from the clouds. They both felt like they could see Richard for a moment, and then the feeling passed.

Emily suddenly laughed. "What would Billy do if you told him you and I shared the same guy? And that we were together too?"

"Emily!" Sandra warned. "Don't you dare!"

"Oh, I won't, I was just wondering. I wouldn't."

"That would spread like wildfire, in this town."

"I bet."

"But ... The look on Billy's face would be priceless!" Sandra added, with a laugh.

"Mmm. So are you okay?"

Sandra nodded. "Yeah. I still can't explain why I'm feeling a little sad. I should be happy."

"Well, be happy. It's getting cold out here in the trees. Let's go back and have a good time by the fire. We can both go mess with those boys' heads."

Sandra laughed freely.

"Sandrine?"

Sandra's mother's voice echoed from the distance. Sandra and Emily walked back towards the house.

"Yes, Mom?"

Sandra's mother turned to them. "Oh, there you are. Where were you?"

"Just talking."

"Well, everyone wants you to play and sing a little."

Sandra glanced at Emily, who grinned and imitated a fiddling motion. Sandra frowned at her.

"Kyle told me," Emily explained, broadening her grin.

"Oh. Well, I'm a little tired..."

"Come on, Sandrine, I want to hear you play!" Emily said boisterously.

Sandra sighed. "Okay, let me go find my fiddle. I don't even know where it is."

"Dad already got it out for you. It's over by the band," her Mom said.

Sandra sighed, and then started for the fire. "You want to get your horn out?" she asked Emily, knowing it was absurd request.

Emily grimaced. "Um, no, thank you. I'm going to find Kyle and Billy, and we'll watch you."

"Okay. Promise not to laugh."

"I can't make that promise!" Emily countered, laughing already.

Sandra just stuck her tongue out as they split up. She watched Emily melt into the crowd, and then went over to where her fiddle case rested on a bench behind Big Ed, the bass player.

Even in the middle of a song, Ed leaned over to Sandra. "How are you, sweetie?"

"Oh, I'm good, Ed."

"School treating you well?"

"Yeah. Very well."

"Great. Ready to rip on some tunes, I hope?"

Sandra laughed. I haven't touched this," she said, holding out her fiddle, "in over three months."

"Oh, you'll be fine. Wait a sec..."

Ed leaned back into the microphone to sing a harmony part in the chorus. Sandra busied herself tuning her fiddle. By the time the song ended, she was ready. Or in tune, anyway. As she greeted the other guys in the band, Ed stepped up to the microphone.

"Hey, thank you, thank you!" Ed's voice boomed over the speaker as people clapped. "Hope you're having fun!"

Someone heckled him from the crowd, in jest.

"Well, if you're not having fun yet, what are you waiting for, Kyle? Look, there's a pretty lady right there to your left. Uh, make that my left."

The crowd laughed. Sandra glanced around and found Kyle. Emily was standing right next to him, grinning a little embarrassedly.

"Well, we have a guest who's gonna play a few numbers with us. None other than Sandra d'Arcy, daughter of our gracious host!"

The crowd went wild. Sandra tried to sidled inconspicuously between the guitarist and the other fiddle player, but Ed pushed her gently to the front. She gave a little wave as people whistled and cheered.

"What do you want to play?" Ed asked her.

"Um..." Sandra considered for a moment. Might as well dive right in,  she thought.

"Roanoke. Kind of peppy," she announced.

Tim, the fiddle player, laughed. "You're gonna make this old man hurt!" he said.

"You'll be fine, Tim. You want the upper or lower part?"

"Neither?" he said, brows raised.

Sandra shook her head at him with a grin. "Fine, I'll play up. Ready?"

"Well, sure. Let 'er rip..."

Sandra put the bow on the strings, and kicked the song off with four beats of rhythm. From the corner of her eye, she could see the band looking at each other with grins at the very quick pace she chose.

"Kind of peppy?" she heard one of them say with a chuckle.

"That's what music school will do to ya," another said.

Tim and her stood facing each other across from the microphone as they played the twin fiddle lines while the rest of the band bounced along behind them.

Sandra smiled as she caught Emily grinning at her. It wasn't a tune to be distracted on, particularly being cold and three months out of practice, so Sandra focused on her fingers until Tim and her finished the first statement, and then whirled out of the way to make way for whoever was next.

"Nice job!" Ed said to her as Andy the banjo player played his break. "Out of practice my ass!"

Sandra shrugged, but couldn't help smiling. As she turned to the crowd again, people were dancing around the fire, energized by the music. She saw Emily and Kyle stomping and jumping near the flames. Every now and then he would twirl her around. Sandra could tell from Emily's look that she was really enjoying herself.

Sandra felt relieved. She had been slightly worried Emily would somehow look down on this music. I should play them a waltz next,  she thought mischievously.

Sandra spotted Billy on the edge of the crowd. His eyes were on her, and he smiled when he saw her looking at him. She smiled back.

"You next?" Ed asked. Mike the mandolin player was finishing his turn.

Sandra leaned over to Tim. "Together?"

"Naw. I want to hear you go," he said, deferring away from the microphone.

"Okay."

Sandra edged into the microphone as Mike played his last notes. She launched into a variation on the tune she had come up with. Surprisingly, she still remembered it. She almost got all the hard parts right, too.

Somehow, a lot of the technique she had been learning at Wexford suddenly made sense on her fiddle too. She could phrase things so much better, and build up the climax perfectly. As she finished up her turn, Tim stepped in to join her for the last time through the tune. People cheered loudly and danced as if in a frenzy as the single fiddle became twins. Tim was grinning ear to ear, trying to keep up with the pace.

At last, they struck the last chord, and the people around the fire erupted. It seemed as if the crowd had tripled in those four minutes of music. Emily was right in front of the band, clapping enthusiastically. Kyle was stomping right next to her, banging two beer bottles together.

Then Sandra saw her father and mother, standing with arms around each other's waists. They were smiling like everyone else.

Suddenly, she knew what she was feeling. She looked at Emily and smiled gently. Emily's eyes narrowed slightly, and she blew her a little kiss. Sandra pursed her lips in a kiss back at her.

"Sandra, you should sing something," Ed said into her ear.

Sandra nodded. "Sure, but let's play something else first."

"What do you have in mind?"

Sandra glanced at Emily with a mischievous smile, and then turned to the band to announce the next song.

-------

Emily hooted wildly as Kyle spun her around for what seemed like the hundredth time. And this is only the first song,  she thought.

As Sandra tore into her solo, Emily had to pause for a moment to watch her, while standing in front of the band. Kyle let her for a moment, before sweeping her along again.

When the song ended, Emily laughed as Kyle twirled her one last time. They ended up where they started, right in front of Sandra, and Kyle grabbed their beers from the ground and banged them together as Emily cheered. She had a new respect for Sandra. She never knew of her ability to play the fiddle.

Suddenly, Sandra turned her eyes to Emily. There was new light in them as she smiled. She's so beautiful! And such a performer,  Emily realized, as she heard what had to be over a hundred people stomping and clapping. She seems to have snapped out of her earlier mood.

Emily blew her a little kiss, which Sandra returned. They kept their eyes locked on each other's until Sandra was interrupted by Big Ed.

"I thought you didn't dance," Kyle said.

"I don't," Emily said, as she took a long swig of her beer, and finished it. Kyle took her bottle and put them down.

"Well, I think you dance real good. Want to go again?" he asked.

"Um ... Okay, sure."

I hope they don't play a waltz,  Emily thought. She glanced at Sandra again. A little smile crossed Sandra's lips.

In a moment, the band started, and Emily laughed out loud. She can read my mind!

"What?" Kyle asked, confused at her laugh.

"Oh, nothing. Prepare to see how badly I can dance," Emily announced.

Kyle pulled her close, but didn't talk as they moved slowly around the fire.

"She's pretty good, huh?" Kyle said, catching Emily watching Sandra during a particularly sweet moment full of double stops and beauty.

"Yeah. I never knew she could play."

"She never took no real lessons on the fiddle, you know."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she just learned it all from old Tim, there."

"She's way better than him," Emily said, frowning.

"Hey, that's my dad you're talking about!"

"Oh! Sorry! I didn't..."

Kyle laughed. "I was just kidding. I mean, he is my dad, but you're right: Sandra blows him away now."

When the song ended, to more loud applause, Emily suddenly felt tired. She just wanted to be with Sandra, now.

"Oh, I'm starting to fade," she said to Kyle as he tried to pull her in for the next dance.

"No, come on! Night's just getting started!"

"Well, I need to at least sit this next one out. My feet are killing me."

"All right. Let's get some more beer," Kyle said.

Emily shrugged and followed him out of the circle towards the cooler. As long as Sandra is having fun up there, I might as well have some fun too.

-------

Sandra sang a song, to the crowd's great joy. She was slightly sad to see Emily disappear with Kyle as she started to sing. But she hears me sing all the time,  Sandra thought.

After the song finished, Sandra dropped her fiddle to her side and stepped up to the microphone.

"Thanks!" she cried as she gave a little wave. She was ready to go to bed. The wine and beer, not to mention three intense months of school, had suddenly caught up with her.

"One more! One more!" came the chants from the crowd. Even the band joined in the calls for an encore.

As she stood there, awash in the moment, she realized that this wasn't much different from what she was going to school for. In some ways it was even more personal, since these were her friends, and not some anonymous audience. Most everyone here knew her well, and the music meant that much more to them.

As she raised her fiddle to her chin again, the chanting turned into raucous cheers. Without warning, she launched into a fiery instrumental. The band quickly caught on, and before the third measure they were right with her.

The notes flew by, blending together at times. Billy seemed two feet away, watching her intently. Emily returned to the circle, looking flushed. Sandra's parents were dancing, whirling around, and around, and around...

-------

"Are you okay?" Emily's voice echoed in her ears.

"What happened?" Sandra asked, as she realized she was inside the house sitting on the kitchen stool. Her fiddle and bow were resting on the counter. Emily came into focus; she was watching Sandra closely.

"When you finished you just waved thanks and ran inside."

"Oh. I don't know what happened. I feel a little woozy. I don't even remember finishing the piece."

"Tired," Emily confirmed.

"Yeah. I think so."

"Me too."

"I should say goodnight." Sandra stood, a bit unsteadily. The crowd outside roared in laughter at something. "Or maybe not..."

"Let's just go to sleep. Saying goodnight could take all night."

"You're right. There are too many people out there. Let me just tell my parents."

Sandra went to the door, and was met by her Mom on the way in.

"Sandrine, that was great!"

"Thanks, Mom. I'm really tired. I think we're going to sleep."

"I understand. I wish I could say we'll be quiet soon, but..." She pointed back to the fire and shrugged.

"I know, don't worry. I'll see you in the morning. Love you. Say goodnight to Dad for us." Sandra gave her Mom a hug.

"I would like to hear you play your French horn tomorrow," Mrs. d'Arcy said to Emily as they also hugged briefly.

"Okay. Thanks for the meal today, it was excellent. I had a really good time."

"You're welcome. Sleep well, girls!"

Emily followed Sandra into the bedroom. Sandra locked the door, and leaned back against it.

"Whoa. Long day. Too much food, too much drink, and too much noise."

"Yeah," Emily agreed. "I shouldn't have had that last beer."

Sandra laughed. "Kyle's idea, huh?"

"You guessed it. It was either have another beer, or pass out by the fire. I hit the wall after your waltz."

Sandra looked at Emily with weary, but happy eyes. "Let's get to sleep."

When they had changed, Emily laid down in Sandra's bed. Sandra got in next to her.

"Wow, this bed is smaller than I remember," Sandra said.

"I can sleep on the cot," Emily said gently.

Sandra murmured a negative, and then gave Emily a kiss. "I'm glad you are here."

"Me too."

Sandra reached over and turned out the light, but stayed in bed with Emily. The darkness seemed to amplify the noise from the party outside slightly.

"I wonder how Richard's night went," Sandra said.

"I was just thinking the same thing. Seems like he should be here."

"I know," Sandra agreed.

"By the way, you never told me you played the violin."

"Um, fiddle," Sandra corrected. "I'd never stand a chance against a violin player."

"What are you talking about? You play really well. People were going crazy for you!"

"Eh, it's a lot of energy and not much technique."

"No, Sandra, you are good. You just have it in you."

"Well, I don't know. I never learned how to play right. I hold the bow all weird, like the other fiddler does, since I learned from him. Any classical violinist would laugh at me if they saw that."

"You still play amazing. I had chills during the waltz. And no, it wasn't because of Kyle!"

Sandra laughed. "Did you leave him hanging?"

"Probably. After you ran inside, I told him I needed to go see if you were okay. He's probably still out there waiting."

"Billy too. Poor guys. I'll bet they hang out until late, hoping we come back out."

"Serves them right. Kyle was getting a little fresh on our last beer run," Emily remarked.

"Really?"

"Yeah, putting his arm around me, hugging me and shit. A kiss was imminent, I think."

"We need to tell them something. Otherwise they'll be pestering us all weekend like flies."

"Well, I don't mind hanging out with Kyle so much. He's cute, and a little funny. As long as he keeps his lips to himself, I'm okay."

Sandra was quiet for a while. "I'm sorry about earlier," she said at last.

"You mean before you played?"

"Yeah. I was feeling sad."

"Sad? Why?"

"I figured it out when I was playing."

"What?"

"This is what my life was. Already it's slipping away."

"Slipping away? Seemed pretty real to me, tonight," Emily said.

"No. You heard Big Ed, when I got up there. I'm a special guest now. 'The One Who Returns from College, ' you know." Sandra sighed, and then continued. "I have a new life now. You leave this place for a few months, and you think, 'I didn't miss anything, ' but it's not true. Even though nothing really happens around here, everything is totally different."

"I don't really know what you mean," Emily said.

"Things will never be the same again. I'm not going to help my Dad out in the fields each harvest season. I'm not going to cook with my Mom much anymore. No more late nights at the bars playing music with those guys. Now they make me stand up front, and be the star."

"They didn't before? Somehow I doubt that."

"Well, maybe, but it was different. I was part of the community, you know? Now I've moved on to other things. Bigger things. It used to be the regular thing we did. Now, all of the sudden, it's a big deal for me to play just a couple of songs with them."

"What about Billy?"

"Billy. Billy ... Yeah, that's part of it. He's gone, too. I don't want to be his partner anymore. But I was for a while, and that'll never be again."

"Nostalgia," Emily remarked.

"Totally!" Sandra agreed.

"You're only eighteen," Emily said with a chuckle.

"I know, isn't it terrible?" Sandra cried.

"I don't have any nostalgia for my youth. I'm so much happier now than I was in high school."

"Hmm. You're right, though. I'm happier too," Sandra agreed.

They kissed gently a few times.

"We should sleep," Sandra said.

"Yeah. Much as I want to ... you know."

"Me too. But I'm so tired!"

Emily stroked Sandra's hair gently. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Sandra didn't move, and in a few moments she was fast asleep in Emily's arms. Emily followed soon after, with dreams of dancing around the fire with Sandra.

-------

The following evening, Sandra was not surprised when a knock on the door revealed a pair of familiar-looking guys.

"Good evening," Kyle said, tipping his hat.

"Hi Kyle, Billy. Come in, we just finished dinner a little while ago," Sandra said.

"Actually, me and Billy was just going out for a drive. We thought maybe you'd like to show Emily around your old stomping grounds, or something."

Sandra turned to Emily, who shrugged, and then nodded.

"Give us a moment to get ready," Sandra said.

"We'll wait out by the car."

"Car?" Sandra glanced out, and saw the white convertible. It was Kyle's father's, and rarely would he let anyone drive it. "Did you steal that from your dad?"

Kyle looked offended. "No! He let me borrow it."

Sandra laughed at his reaction. "We'll be right out."

In a few moments, Emily and Sandra were ready. When they went out to the driveway, the two guys were leaning against the hood, trying to look very cool.

"They are so looking to hook up tonight," Emily said to Sandra quietly. "Too bad for them!"

Sandra just giggled and made a face at Emily.

Emily and Sandra sat together in the back seat before the guys could react. After Billy got in the front seat somewhat reluctantly, Kyle pulled out of the drive and started down the country route.

"Where are we headed?" Sandra asked Kyle, since he seemed to be driving with a destination in mind.

"We thought the lake," he said simply.

Sandra rolled her eyes at Emily. Emily frowned, and mouthed 'What?' Sandra made a kissing imitation.

Emily laughed silently. "What's at the lake?" she asked the boys.

"Oh, just a nice place to see the sunset, hear the frogs ... you know," Kyle said innocently.

"Do people go there to make out?" Emily asked, just as innocently as Kyle.

Sandra opened her mouth in shock at Emily, who just smiled.

"Um..." Kyle paused, clearly off-balance. "Sometimes."

The ensuing silence was quite funny in the backseat. Silently funny, but funny nonetheless.

Upon arrival at the lake, Kyle and Billy got out of the car. Kyle was right. It was a nice place to see the sunset, which was already in progress.

After Emily's comment, the guys seemed much less settled than they had been when they were leaning so perfectly against the car. Sandra told Emily all about life in the area, while the guys picked at grass and chipped in an occasional anecdote.

It was getting dark when Kyle and Billy stood up to leave. When they reached the car, Billy walked ahead and got in the backseat. Sandra and Emily exchanged glances in the low light. Emily jumped into the backseat next to Billy, and Sandra got in the front. Kyle stood by the driver's door, looking confused.

It was another unexpected move. The girls tried admirably to keep a straight face as Billy suggested they switch places.

"I want to catch up with Sandra," he explained, trying to keep his voice even.

Emily couldn't hold out any longer and started laughing. "You guys are so funny!"

"What?" Kyle exclaimed.

"Trying to be all subtle. You know, Sandra and I are spoken for!"

Billy sat up straight as if he had been shocked. "What?"

"We have someone at school," Emily said.

"You didn't ... You didn't tell me that," he said to Sandra.

"You never asked."

"But — But last night..." Billy stammered.

Sandra frowned. "Last night what?"

"You blew me — " Billy suddenly paused as he considered something.

It was a very awkward place to pause, and Emily burst out laughing again. Despite the darkness, Billy looked red-faced.

"I did what?" Sandra exclaimed.

"You blew me a kiss, was what I was going to say!" Billy stammered.

Even Kyle was laughing now. "Nice one, Billy!" he managed between fits. Billy sunk his head into his hands and groaned.

When things finally settled down, Sandra looked at him. "I'm sorry, Billy, but I don't remember blowing you any kisses."

"When you were playing with the guys, I swear you did!"

Sandra thought for a moment, and then closed her eyes and smiled. "Oh! I was blowing a kiss to Emily."

"What? No..."

"You must have been right behind her."

"No ... Aw, shit... ! Now I've really made a mess of things." He opened his door and stepped out to pace around. Sandra got out and went over to him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I wasn't trying to fool you or anything."

"I know. I just..."

Sandra put an arm around him. "Come on, let's just hang out and have fun tonight."

Billy sighed, and looked at her for a while. He went back to the car and sat in the front seat. Sandra offered to sit in the back with him, but he waved the suggestion off.

"We'll just take you gals home," Billy said. "Get in and drive, Kyle."

"Billy," Sandra said gently. "We can still hang out."

"I don't feel like hanging out now," he said glumly.

"Oh. This is my last night, though," Sandra said.

There was a tense moment. Emily could tell Sandra was suddenly feeling very bad about the way the evening had gone.

"Well," Emily suddenly announced. "I still want to have a good time. I've never taken a swim in a country lake before."

She opened her door, and got out before anyone answered. "Anyone else want to swim? It's a warm night, luckily."

Neither of the guys moved or spoke, but Sandra opened her door and got out as well. After looking at each other for a moment in the rapidly fading light, they took their shirts and jeans off in silence. They draped them on the doorframe of the convertible, and then started walking towards the lake.

"Come on, guys," Emily called back. "You're not going to leave us here are you?"

The water was very cold, and for a moment Emily regretted the bold move. Sandra shrieked as her legs protested from walking in a little too quickly. Emily splashed her with a kick of water, causing more yells. Sandra stiffened her body and turned her back to Emily as she tried to get away.

"Wuss," Emily said, wading in up to her knees.

"Emily, the water's freezing!"

"It is November! What did you expect?"

"Don't splash me, or you're on the cot tonight!" Sandra teased.

"All right, all right." Emily lowered her voice. "Do you think they'll come in?"

"I don't know. Why the hell are we in the lake, anyway?"

"Just trying to make everyone feel better again," Emily whispered. "Here they come."

Two shapes materialized out of the darkness. The guys were in boxers, and when they stepped in, Emily heard sharp intakes of breath.

"Cold?" she called out.

"Not so bad," Kyle managed through tensed teeth.

Emily laughed. "Yeah right. You look like you're about to freeze."

Kyle glanced at Emily, and then pushed his body forward into a shallow dive. The ensuing splash caught Emily square across the middle. For a moment she stopped breathing at the shock. Then Kyle surfaced right beside her.

"Not so bad," he repeated confidently, chuckling and swimming idly.

Emily peered at him in the dark for a moment. She scooped a handful of water at him. "That was mean."

"Hey, I'm already wet," he said, ignoring the water she had thrown. "Let's see if there's more than just talk from you. You said you were going to go swimming and have fun."

Emily could see his eyes flashing in the moonlight. "So I did," she admitted.

"Well?"

Emily smiled, and then held her nose shut and slipped under the water. She resurfaced quickly and hooted loudly as she shook off the cold water.

Kyle laughed. "Come with me. The best fun to have at this lake is right over there," he said, pointing.

"And where exactly are you going to take me?" Emily asked, wondering what Kyle was doing.

"Relax, nothing weird. Just some rocks." He paused, and then added, "I know you're taken."

Emily looked at Sandra, who was just watching. Billy was still only ankle deep, watching as well. "If I'm not back in ten minutes, call out the dogs," Emily said.

-------

Sandra watched as Kyle swam along the shoreline with Emily beside him. At one point, she heard Emily yell, "Damn, it's cold!"

Billy had approached, and was standing quietly nearby.

"He's crazy," he said. "They're crazy."

"You told Kyle to get us alone," Sandra said, smiling.

"Maybe," Billy said evasively.

"I know you, Billy. You pulled the same stunt when we started going out."

"I guess I'm getting predictable."

"I'm freezing to death," Sandra said suddenly. "Do you want to go back to the car?"

"Yeah, let's go."

Sandra could hear the relief in his voice, and smiled.

They ran back to the car, and quickly put on their clothes. They were soon seated in the back.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Sandra said.

"It's my fault."

"No, I should have told you last night about ... being taken."

"What's he like?"

"My boyfriend?" Sandra felt strange saying those words. Richard is so much more than a boyfriend.

"Yeah."

"He ... plays piano. I don't know, what do you want to know?"

Billy sighed. "Sorry, it's none of my business. Let's talk about something else."

"Okay," Sandra said.

"You played really good, last night."

"Thanks."

There was some silence for a while. Sandra heard Emily's laugh from a distance, followed by a long whoop. Then Kyle yelled. Both sounds abruptly cut off.

"Sounds like they're having fun," Sandra said.

"Cold. They're crazy."

Sandra shifted in her seat. Emily's laugh sounded out again as they sat in quiet.

"How's school?" Sandra asked.

Billy didn't answer at once. "It's all right. Mostly, I miss you."

Sandra murmured something indistinct.

"I was really glad when I heard you were coming back this weekend," he continued. "I know we broke things off last summer, but..."

"Things were going to change when we went to college," Sandra said softly. "And they did."

"Yeah, they did. I realized how much I loved you. There's no one like you at my school, Sandra. I guess I was spoiled, growing up with you, and going out with you."

"Billy, that's very sweet, but I'm sure that —"

"Naw, it's the truth. I should of kept you when I had you."

"We both knew that wouldn't have worked."

"That's what we said, yeah. Somehow I talked myself out of having you."

Sandra just sat silently.

"There's no chance of you having me back, now," Billy said.

Sandra knew him well enough to recognize his offer. "No, Billy. I'm with someone else now."

"Yeah, and he's probably not dumb like me, so he won't give you up."

"We're far apart, Billy. It would never work."

"I'd support your music. I'd come with you."

"What about your farm?" Sandra asked, surprised at the honesty in his voice. "That's your dream."

"I thought that was my dream. But it was only a dream because I was with you. Even as we said we'd break things off and see how things went, I never knew what that really meant. I was just a kid last summer, Sandra. Everything felt so damn right when I was with you, that letting go of you even seemed right. Man, after a month of college, though, the truth hit. Hit hard. My dream should have been being with you. Once you left, everything I was riding high on ... it seemed so empty all of a sudden.

"I guess I just always imagined you with me, Sandra," Billy continued, his voice showing some emotion. "Even as we said goodbye. I never thought anyone else would come along and take you when I wasn't looking. I know, that's stupid. Stupid!"

"Billy, I never knew you felt like that," Sandra said quietly.

"I didn't know either," Billy responded.

Sandra moved close to him and pulled him into a hug. "I've missed you too. Last night, I was looking at you, and I felt really sad that what we had is over. I didn't know that I'd missed you so much. We had some really great times together. Things I'll remember forever."

Sandra sighed at the memories. "Last night I realized I was never going to live those things again. I've chosen something very different to do. And I'm taken now, and I've worked hard to be with them. I can't come back to who I was. Everyone treats me different here, and it's only been three months."

Billy murmured. "Yeah, seems like it only takes a couple of months to grow up around here."

"Why didn't you write me?"

"I didn't have the guts. You're going places, Sandra. You are amazing, in so many ways. When I went to school, you were the standard I measured everybody with. Nobody was close. Then I realized what I'd given up, but too late."

"You could have written and told me."

"Would it have made a difference?" Billy asked softly.

Sandra thought for moment. "I don't know," she finally said. "Maybe not. I met Richard right away."

"So that's his name," Billy said, his voice thoughtful now. "I knew it was either too late, or I'd find you back here at Thanksgiving and sweep you away."

"Was that your plan for tonight?" Sandra asked.

"Yeah," Billy admitted.

"Well, in some small way, you have, Billy. We may not be able to be together, but I'll remember tonight for a long time."

-------

Emily ran and leaped out from the rocky outcropping. Last time,  she thought. She was shivering too much.

Kyle was right behind her, and he heard his splash a moment after hers. The shock of the cold water was no less than the first time they had jumped in.

"Okay," she spluttered as she saw him surface in front of her. "I need to get out. I'm freezing, for real now!"

"Yeah, me too. That was fun though," Kyle said. "Let's go back to the shore."

"That was fun, Kyle. Thanks," Emily said as they waded along the bottom of the rocky outcropping towards the pebbly area where they had entered the lake.

"I thought you might like it."

"Or was it a ploy to get Sandra and Billy alone?" Emily said, amused.

"Of course not," Kyle said evasively.

"I wonder if they stayed in to swim."

"Doubt it. You have to be crazy to swim in this water."

"So you are saying I'm crazy?"

"Yeah. But I like that in a woman."

Emily laughed. "You know Kyle, if I wasn't with someone, I'd kiss you for that."

"Well, that's something, at least," Kyle said, laughing with her. "What's your boyfriend like?"

"He's cool. Laid back. He plays the piano. You'd get along with him. He's done some crazy things, too."

"Well, if he ever lets you down, come back for another swim. I have some other nice spots around the lake I can show you."

Emily laughed freely and splashed Kyle with some water. "Dream on! I'd be crazy to go off into a secluded lake with someone I hardly knew!"

"Funny, you just did," Kyle said, missing the sarcasm. "I think I've been a good boy, though. Did I pull anything funny tonight?"

Emily laughed again. "No, you didn't. You were the epitome of honor."

"The what of honor?"

"Epitome?"

"That's one of them there college words," Kyle said, slipping into a heavy redneck accent.

"Yeah, I guess it be," Emily echoed.

They stepped out onto the pebbles of the shore, laughing.

"Looks like we've been abandoned," Emily said.

"So can I have that kiss then?" Kyle asked nonchalantly.

Emily patted his arm twice, as she walked by him towards the car. "Nice try Kyle."

"It was worth a try," he said from behind her.

"Enjoy the night while it lasts," Emily said, giggling.

They walked briskly back to the car. The air had gotten colder, and without the adrenaline of a fifteen foot jump, they were both shivering when they got there. Emily saw Sandra leaning against Billy in the back of the convertible.

"We're back," Kyle announced loudly, sounding a little too rehearsed.

Emily chuckled to herself as she hurried to get her clothes on, but didn't say anything.

Eventually Kyle and Emily were situated in the front seat, and Kyle pulled out of the dirt lot.

"Where to?" Kyle asked, as he stopped at the end of the lake driveway to turn onto the main road.

"I'm ready to call it a night," Billy said. Emily noticed his voice was calm and quiet now, but not glum.

"We have an early start tomorrow," Sandra agreed. "Some sleep would be good."

Kyle turned right, smiled at Emily, and turned on the radio.

-------

Once Sandra and Emily had waved and safely entered the front door, Kyle pulled the car out of Sandra's driveway, and turned towards Billy's house.

"How'd it go with her?" Kyle asked.

Billy laughed a little. "It didn't. She's still gone."

"Sorry, man. That's too bad. You turning in early?"

"Nah ... let's go shoot some pool," Billy said distantly. "Time to move on."

"I hear you."

Billy changed the radio station to something more upbeat.

"How about you?" he asked.

"I'll play for a while."

"Naw, man. I meant any luck with Emily?"

"Nope. She was really cool, but she wasn't going to budge either."

"Figures. What would they see in us anyway... ? Sandra's boyfriend plays piano, so they probably have so much more in common."

"That's funny. Emily's boyfriend plays the piano, too," Kyle noted.

"Hmm..." Billy mused.

"What?"

"Maybe we should start taking piano lessons," Billy said.

"Heh heh, there's a funny thought. Come on, man, let's go have some fun." Kyle pressed the accelerator and they disappeared down the road.

-------

V. Robbins

Seventy-nine hours and thirteen minutes after the girls left him, he saw them again. He'd spent the previous hour watching the lot from his dorm window while he cleaned up his room.

Sandra and Emily hopped out of the car, and glanced immediately up to Richard's room. He waved, but perhaps because of the early evening glare they didn't react. Sandra's father helped them carry their things in from the car to the dorm.

Richard paced excitedly around the room. He knew how difficult it would be to go up to their room with Sandra's father there. So he waited.

Five minutes passed, and Sandra's father returned to his car and departed. At the same time, his phone rang.

"Hello?" he answered.

"We're back!" came the excited voices of the girls in chorus.

"I know. I saw you pull in."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Emily said, and hung up.

Richard slammed the phone down and ran down to their room. Before he could even knock, the door opened and arms grabbed at him and pulled him in.

Lips were all over him, and someone kicked the door shut as their bodies fell to the bed. It was amazing to feel them again after the long weekend apart.

"We're back!" Sandra said giddily, sitting up and looking at Richard.

"We missed you," Emily said.

"Really missed you," Sandra emphasized.

"I missed you too," Richard agreed.

For a few moments, they all smiled and took in the sight of each other as if it had been three weeks apart, not three days.

"What are you going to do with me?" Richard asked innocently. "If I recall, there was talk of being locked up in the room for the next twenty-four hours."

Sandra smiled mischievously. "Oh, you're right. I'd almost forgotten."

"I didn't," Richard said, grinning.

"Well, there's something we need to do first, and that's take a shower. Clean the road off of us."

"And we can do things in the shower," Emily said suggestively to Sandra.

"Mmm, that sounds like fun," Sandra said.

Richard raised a brow. "Um..."

"You are coming too, of course," Emily said. "Heh heh, I said coming!"

Sandra giggled, and Emily started laughing. Tickling ensued, and then Sandra and Emily grabbed their towels from their closet hooks and stood expectantly in the center of the room.

"Well?"

Richard got up quickly, wondering if this was for real. "Which bathroom are we going to?"

"Our bathroom, of course," Emily said. "We outnumber you."

"No one's really here anyway," Sandra said.

"Sounds like you had this all planned out," Richard said.

"Maybe," Sandra said, grinning.

"Do you have an extra towel?"

"No, you'll have to go without," Emily said.

"Here," Sandra said, handing Richard their towels. "You can be like our pool boy."

"Pool boy?" Richard said, holding the towels in front of him.

"Be good."

"And get some rewards."

Richard laughed. "You two have been in the car too long."

"I know. We're ready to stretch our legs," Sandra said suggestively.

"Get a good workout," Emily added. The girls giggled, while Richard just grinned at them.

"God, I'm so excited! Let's go," Sandra said suddenly, opening the door to the hallway. "Come on, no one's here."

Richard followed them down the hall to the bathroom, carrying the towels. Sandra entered the bathroom, peeked in, and then waved Emily and Richard in. The bathroom was deserted.

Giggles surfaced again, as they piled into one of the shower units and closed the door. Within the changing area in front of the shower itself, there was room enough to stand comfortably. Richard hung the towels on the hooks and the three disrobed in an instant. Sandra turned on the shower, and adjusted the temperature as Richard watched, taking in the sights he'd missed for the past three days.

The three of them slipped under the water. Before Richard had even pulled the shower curtain closed, Sandra and Emily were all over him. After kissing and feeling his body, they knelt down before him. He knew things would go quickly, with the days of anticipation growing in him.

Richard heard murmurs and saw smiles as the girls took turns on him. It was like he was with them for the first time. Richard closed his eyes, reveling in the pleasure he felt.

Suddenly, there was a bump and a squeak. Sandra and Emily paused, and they all listened to footsteps in the bathroom. The girls looked up at him, smiling, and Sandra put a finger to her lips.

Richard felt his heart beating faster. But unless they crouch down and peek under the stall door and shower curtain, there's no worry... 

The three of them remained still, waiting. A toilet flushed after a few moments. Then the sink went on, and off. The footsteps got closer, and then there were some noises. Finally, a second shower started up in the next stall.

Richard looked down at Sandra and Emily, wide-eyed. Emily just shrugged, and put a finger to her lips. Then she resumed what she had been doing when the intruder had entered the bathroom.

Richard leaned back against the shower wall, hoping he could stay quiet during the coming explosion.

-------

Sandra grinned as Emily put her lips around Richard again. Richard would have to stay still and quiet, or betray his presence to their showering neighbor.

Sandra watched them from inches away, taking in the detail of where their bodies intersected. It was so ... carnal. She and Emily had decided to not fool around at her house, instead waiting until the three of them could be together again. It had been a good decision. She could almost feel Richard inside her now, as she watched him inside of Emily.

She reached down and touched Emily, triggering a murmur. Emily's eyelids fluttered in pleasure, and then she looked at Sandra as she slowly let Richard loose.

"Worth waiting?" Sandra whispered, ever so quietly.

Emily nodded, and then kissed Sandra deeply and passionately. For a few moments, even Richard was forgotten as their tongues fought and sent sparks though their bodies. When they came to earth again, they looked up to find Richard grinning.

Sandra turned her attention to him now, with vigor. She still found pleasuring Richard orally a thrill, having never done so with Billy. There were times, like now, when she felt so excited about it, that she wanted to swallow him whole. She couldn't, but she still tried, and knew how it drove Richard over the edge. There was something so naughty about having him in her mouth when he exploded.

For a moment, she wondered what the person in the next stall would do if she knew what they were doing here now. Then she could feel Richard tensing up, and knew it was imminent.

-------

Emily watched as Richard turned rock hard and tried to grip the slick walls of the shower. Right beside her, Sandra never let up as he went over the edge. Richard's face was twisted in agonized pleasure as he fought to stay silent, and Emily almost laughed. Poor man... !

Sandra had to pull off and let Richard finish spurting into the shower. Emily found it amusing to watch Sandra try to swallow it all. Some days, she succeeded, but Richard was obviously over-excited today, and she had no hope. Emily didn't mind Sandra finishing Richard in this way; Emily didn't much like the consistency.

Leaving Sandra to finish up, Emily stood and kissed Richard deeply. He reacted slowly, still shaken from his orgasm. She stretched up to his ear and whispered, "It's good to be back."

Richard just smiled and kissed her.

-------

Having escaped the bathroom unnoticed, the trio retired to the room. Sandra locked the door after entering last, and turned to Richard and Emily with a smoldering look in her eyes.

"I locked the door."

Richard fell backwards onto her bed. "Trapped with two wild creatures..."

"Oh no, your turn to work, boy," Emily said, pulling him up.

Richard started to protest, but then Emily was disrobing before him. Sandra adjusted the lights to something soft, and Richard was soon exploring Emily's body with his mouth. Gentle kisses on her tummy elicited a series of giggles and squirms. After tickling her a little more, he swung her around and onto the bed, before settling in to return the favor she had given the shower.

Sandra knelt behind Richard, and massaged his shoulders as his head moved between Emily's legs.

"We should be punishing you, really," Sandra said playfully.

Richard momentarily stopped to answer. "Punishing?"

"For sleeping with another woman, of course." She pulled his shirt up, and he straightened so she could remove it.

"Is that what I did?"

Sandra ran two fingers down his spine as he returned to Emily. "That's what you said on the phone. Slept in a romantic garden with a foreign woman, under the stars."

"Well ... I guess that is the truth. But I was dreaming about the two of you."

Sandra laughed. "Su-ure you were. That's a likely excuse."

"No, it's true."

Sandra worked her hands harder into his back, feeling the muscles and structure of his body beneath the olive skin. "What's she like?"

"Viktoriya? She was very ... professional."

"Professional?"

"Until we got to the telescope, she was really formal, in a way."

"Then she jumped you?"

Richard laughed. "She offered ... I think."

"Really!"

"Said she was only in town for a few days."

Sandra reached a hand around to his front. "And you just blew her off?"

"Yup. Not interested."

"Not interested? Then why are you getting hard?"

"Well, I have one beautiful woman in front of me, and another behind me. Do I really need a third reason?"

Sandra laughed now. "No, I suppose not."

"Can you two talk later?" Emily said, with labored voice. "Richard's not so good at doing two things at once."

Richard chuckled, and then was quiet.

"What does she look like?" Sandra asked.

"Sandra!" Emily blurted.

"Sorry."

Sandra pressed her naked body against Richard's back, rubbing herself up and down against him. It was so good to touch him again.

"Maybe she's in our pool of soul mates," Sandra mused quietly.

Emily was emitting some moans now, so Sandra moved to lay beside her on the bed, and kissed her. As their tongues flitted against each other, Sandra felt pangs of excitement pulsing through her middle. Richard had a finger in her now, but it wasn't enough. Nothing would be enough for the next few hours, she knew. She hoped Richard was not tired.

Richard's tongue joined theirs, and Emily began to move rhythmically. Sandra smiled as the two of them stopped trying to kiss and just concentrated on breathing. She looked down the length of Richard's back, admiring Emily's legs clenched around his waist. She ran a hand down her smooth thigh, and then reached in to feel where Richard was entering Emily. She's clearly as excited as I am,  Sandra thought, feeling the slick moisture. She played with Emily for a while, listening as her friend became more and more desperate. Sometimes, it took her some time to reach a release point.

Finally, everything came together, and Emily tightened up and went silent, not even breathing. Then she let out a burst of air and shook off the tension. Her legs fell off of Richard's back, and Richard withdrew. Sandra kept her hand in place, still stroking her sensitive spot gently, while Richard watched from the center of the room.

"Wow, I really missed that," Emily said heavily. "Did you come?"

"No, not yet. More?"

"In a bit. Sandra's obviously feeling feisty and needing some."

Sandra glanced at Emily. "Feisty?"

"It's going to be a long night for you, I think," Emily said to Richard, ignoring Sandra's comment.

Richard shrugged. "I'll go as long as I can." He started to move over Sandra, but she turned around to lie on her tummy.

"I want to do it like this," she said, wiggling her bottom at him.

Richard murmured something unintelligible, and then got on top of her.

"Tease me," she said, wriggling against him.

Richard did, rubbing her here and there, and pressing his body against hers. It felt heavenly, and the energy inside her began to concentrate. Occasionally Richard would slip in and out, causing Sandra to whimper as a moment of ecstasy burst open and then closed.

Sandra arched her body as she lifted herself onto her elbows and threw her head back. She moaned when Richard pressed against her in return. He kissed her stretched neck, sending a shower of tingles down her back. Then Emily's lips were on hers. Then hands on her breasts...

Everything within her was tightening up, and Richard must have sensed it. He had stopped teasing her, and she dropped back to the bed as he entered her.

"Oh ... god..."

Richard slowly increased his rate, and soon Sandra was bouncing up and down on the bed as a wave of pleasure crashed across her body and carried her far from the room. She could hear soft noises coming from her throat.

"Don't stop..."

Sandra lost track of how long Richard continued to pound her, but eventually his pace stuttered and he collapsed onto her back.

Sandra lay there for a long time, swimming in the vibrations that still shook her body.

At some point she came to, and realized Emily was on top of Richard. She was moving up and down slowly, a pleased smile on her face.

"I'm not allowed to move," Richard explained, spotting Sandra as she rolled to her side and watched.

"Makes it easy on you," Sandra said. "Feels good, Em?"

Emily just closed her eyes and smiled more.

-------

Emily found the second round extremely satisfying. She loved being on top of Richard. The angle was just right for him to hit a spot, and when she took it slow and shallow, like she was now, she could build up to a powerful orgasm. She could tell Richard was dying to move his hips, or even touch her with his hands. His eyes had a wild look that betrayed the calm he kept with his body.

"I met a guy, at Sandra's," Emily said, watching Richard.

Richard looked at her, saying nothing.

"I took off my clothes and went for a night swim with him."

"That sounds like fun," Richard said, evenly. "Wish I'd been there."

"Kyle. Country boy." Emily's words came a little more labored now, as she increased the pace of her up and down movements.

"And... ?"

"Just telling you. You told us about Viktoriya, so ... We jumped off some rocks into a lake. Hey, don't move!"

"Sorry. Wasn't it cold?"

"Freezing. Mmm. There ... No, don't move."

Richard put his hands back down. Sandra grabbed them and pinned them down, giggling.

"Ooh, now I really can't move," Richard said, with mock effort.

"Thank you, Sandra. Someone's not behaving."

"It's hard not to touch you, when you look so good," Richard said.

Emily smiled, and patted him on the cheek.

"What happened after you jumped off the rocks?" Richard asked.

"Nothing else happened. He wanted to kiss me, though."

"And probably more," Sandra added.

"Not interested?" Richard said, echoing his earlier statement.

"No. I'm not doing that again. Okay, move."

Richard responded instantly, moving his hips to meet hers. Now with him fully inside of her, the slow heat she had been building up suddenly took off. Sandra let go of his hands and laid herself so that her head was right next to Richard's. For a moment Emily imagined she was riding Sandra instead.

"Shit, that feels good," Emily whispered.

Soon her legs felt weak, and Emily let Richard do more and more of the moving. This time, the orgasm came quick and easy. She held her breath, and then it hit. She fell down onto Richard's chest, grasping at the bed sheets as she shuddered deeply, her head between his and Sandra's faces. Richard seemed to be lifting her into the air with each thrust.

The feelings in her body moved to her head, and she found herself suddenly crying. She moved a strand of damp hair from her mouth, and found Richard's lips, and then Sandra's.

"Oh, I love you. I love you both..."

She kissed each of them passionately for a while, as Richard slowed down his movements.

"That was amazing," Richard whispered.

"The look on your face..." Sandra added.

Emily sighed. "It's so good to be together again."

-------

"Richard?"

Richard stirred, not sure if the voice had been real, or in his dreams.

"Mmm?"

"I thought you were sleeping," Sandra said.

Richard tried to shift his body a little, but he was entangled in the limbs of the two girls. They had passed out after another long lovemaking session where Richard had lost track of the things they had done. The blue lights still shone from the ceiling, but no sunlight yet peeked in around the curtains.

"I might have been."

"Me too," Emily murmured.

"What time is it?" Sandra asked.

Emily moved a little and glanced at the clock. "Looks like three thirty."

Sandra pulled her leg free and then rolled on top of Richard.

"Oh, no. I'm finished," he protested.

"Are you now?"

"Definitely," Richard said.

"I know. I was just kidding," Sandra said. "Well, sort of kidding."

"I'm done."

"Actually," Sandra said, getting up from the bed, "I need some water. I have dry mouth from the wine."

"Mm, me too," Emily said.

Sandra poured out three waters, and they drank thirstily. Richard and Emily straightened out the covers, and Sandra returned to the bed.

The cusp between wakefulness and dreams beckoned again. Richard could tell Emily was already out again. He heard Sandra's voice call him again from a distance.

"Yeah?"

"I saw Billy when I was home," she said.

"Cool," Richard answered. "How'd it go?"

"He said you were lucky to have me."

"He is so right," Richard said, managing a smile despite the sleepiness.

"But I also realized how lucky I am to have you and Emily."

Richard kept smiling. "I'm happy to hear that. I love you. We both do."

"I know. Billy loves me too. He'd take me back in a second, I think. But you two are the right ones for me."

Richard reached a hand up and caressed her cheek, and she murmured peacefully.

"Sleep well, Richard."

A soft kiss on his lips was the last thing he felt before sleep washed over him.



-------

Chapter 25: Hymn


"I can't believe finals are just a week away," Richard said, as he walked to the conservatory building alongside Sandra and Emily.

"I know. This semester just flew," Sandra agreed. "That also means we're just a couple of weeks away from break," she added, pouting.

"I know. Too bad we can't find an excuse to all stay here," Emily said. "We thought a few days at Thanksgiving was tough..."

"I'll probably be coming back a week before classes start," Richard said.

"Really?" Sandra said, brightening. "I could probably have my dad drive me back here earlier too."

"I just talked to Dave this morning," Richard said, "and if I want to help with the editing for Mrs. T's album, that's the time to work on it."

"Is that for sure?" Emily asked.

"I think so. My dad wants me to come home right away after finals so I can spend a few days with my Aunt, since she's still around. But there's nothing happening in January to keep me home."

"Let me know, because my dad wants to book my plane ticket soon," Emily said. "If you two will be here a week early, I will too."

"Are the dorms even open?" Sandra asked.

"I don't think so," Richard said. "Dave said something about staying at his place."

"We'll figure something out," Emily said. "We can probably stay at my teacher's house, Sandra. Or we'll break into the dorm. You can sleep with Joey, or whatever. Anyway, are we still meeting after your theory class?" Emily asked her, as Richard chuckled.

"Yeah, I can still meet. Sleep with Joey?" Sandra made a face.

"Kidding. I'll try and find a room for this afternoon. If not, maybe I can get into one of the horn studios."

"Just don't get room K or L. Those pianos suck," Richard said.

"Picky, picky," Emily said, sniggering. "I'll get what I can."

"I'll go pick up the orchestra horn for you to use then," Richard fired back.

"Fine, fine. Point taken," Emily said, grinning at him. "I know you don't like those rooms anyway."

Richard stopped as they entered the lobby. "All right, I'm off to another round with Dobra. Have fun in piano class," he said.

"We'll try," Sandra said.

Richard pulled the door open and climbed the stairs to the next floor, and then knocked on Dr. Dobra's office door.

"Come," came his voice.

Ethan Deerfield, the class delinquent, was just leaving. I can't believe he's still in the class,  Richard thought.

Ethan closed the door behind him as he left, and Richard dropped his bag onto the chair near the piano.

"How are you, Richard?" Dobra asked.

"All right. A little tired, but..."

"It is that time of year," Dobra agreed, stretching for a moment. "I'll be glad when the semester is over, too."

Richard nodded. The Doberman was much more human in his office than in the classroom, Richard had discovered in the course of twice-weekly tutoring sessions.

"How's Sandra doing in her class?"

"Extremely well. Don't you speak with her?" Dobra asked.

"Sure, but I was just wondering what you thought. She doesn't sound as confident."

"She's a natural. She'll have no trouble on the final. She's learned the conventions we impose on the music very quickly. She's had to work hard, though."

Richard sat in his chair with pencil and staff paper at the ready. "Cool."

"How are you feeling about the final?" Dobra asked him.

"Better," Richard admitted.

"Good. We only have today and Thursday left, so let's not waste time. Melodic dictation, three-four, in F. Treble clef, beginning on the F above middle C."

Richard notated the details on his paper as he had a hundred times before.

"First time," Dobra said, and then played the melody.

Richard decided to try to apply a comment that Sandra had mentioned that weekend. 'Think of it as music, ' she had said, when he was complaining about the difficulties.

Think of it as music...  Richard listened to the melody with new ears, and imagined Sandra singing it to him. Actually, it sounds more like a horn part,  Richard thought. Emily slipped into his thoughts.

He replayed the melody in his head, and then began to write down the notes. It seemed to flow much easier than before, and he found himself outlining the entire melody on the first go. There were still a couple of notes he was not sure of, but the ending he had written looked promising, with the cadence on an F.

"Second time," Dobra intoned, and played again.

Richard filled in the missing notes, and then changed a few rhythms he had notated incorrectly. For the first time ever, he found himself waiting for Dr. Dobra. He looked up expectantly.

"Third time."

Richard followed his notes as the music went by, and didn't think he needed to change anything. A feeling of elation began to grow inside of him. Maybe it was an easy example,  he cautioned to himself.

"I think I'm done," Richard announced right after the last note was muted by the damper in the piano.

"Very well, let's have a look," Dobra said, nodding.

Richard passed his sheet to the outstretched hand, and Dobra placed it on the music stand before him. He played from the paper. Richard grinned as the melody played out just as the original had sounded.

"Good, Richard. Very good. A tricky example, too, in the middle there."

Richard suppressed a whoop as Dobra handed back his paper.

"Weird ... I had it after the second time," Richard said proudly.

"What changed?"

"This will sound dumb, but a few days ago Sandra said to think of it as music."

Dobra laughed out loud. "Well, it is! Isn't it?"

Richard shrugged. "Yeah, I guess..."

Dobra just smirked. "Let's try another one."

Richard started a new staff with the details of the next example, and kept the optimism he felt in check. Still, he sent Sandra a silent thank you.

-------

"I basically only have two finals," Emily said, as she prepped her horn. She had secured one of the horn studios for their rehearsal.

Sandra paused in the middle of her warm-up exercises. "How'd you manage that?"

"Well, since we don't have one for piano class, and my art class just has a project, I just have the two theory finals."

"That's lucky," Richard said. "I have to write some essays for English at the final. That's going to suck. I hate having to write fast."

"No sympathy from me. I have all that, plus a German final," Sandra said. "And my theory test won't be a walk in the park."

"Like ours?" Emily said.

"Well, relatively speaking," Sandra said.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Dobra said you'd do fine," Richard said.

Sandra turned to him. "He did?"

"Yeah."

"How did that come up?"

"I asked," Richard said, shrugging.

"He said I'd do fine?" Sandra pressed.

"Yeah. Said you were a natural. Not to worry."

Sandra seemed at a loss for words.

"Well, I have orchestra in three hours, and I do want to eat," Emily said. "What movement are we working on?"

"The Hymn, I think," Richard said.

Sandra snapped out of her thoughts. "Yeah, the Hymn."

"Let's just read it through once. It's been a while since we tried it."

Richard flipped to the page in his score, and then Emily put the horn to her lips. She gave a slight movement and took a rhythmic breath, and then started. Richard came in late.

"Sorry," he said. "I missed it."

Emily led off again, and they played through the intro. Richard felt like he was ragged on the rhythm, but didn't stop. The movement was a challenge to keep together with the pulsing accompaniment, filigree horn part, and uneven vocal lines.

Sandra entered lightly, and the three of them forged ahead. Several times he realized he had gotten off from Sandra and had to quickly figure out where to return.

When they reached the end two minutes later, they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"God, that was awful!" Emily cried.

"Good, I didn't want to be the first to say it," Sandra agreed.

"Sorry. I was all over the place," Richard admitted. "I thought I had it when I was practicing earlier on my own, but I obviously need to know your parts better."

"It was bad all around, not just you," Emily said. "Well, let's just try the intro, before Sandra sings. If we can get that solid, it will help the rest settle into place."

Emily put the horn to her lips, and Richard followed her entrance better. After a few bars, Emily stopped and leaned in to Richard's score.

"There," Emily said, pointing to one of Richard's notes. "I think we need to accent that note more. That's where I start my run up."

"Mmm," Richard murmured, his eyes on her chest right beside him, rather than on the music.

"Richard..." Emily scolded.

He leaned his head against her and nuzzled her.

"What's the punishment for getting caught messing around in the horn studio?" Sandra asked with a laugh.

"We won't ever find out," Emily said, pulling back from Richard and giving him a stern look.

Richard just laughed and Emily joined him after trying to hold the look for a little longer.

"All right, what were you saying?" Richard asked, regaining composure.

"Is this what Nelson is teaching you about accompaniment? To ogle the soloists?"

Richard laughed. "If they were men, maybe! He does say I should watch you carefully. For cues. Signals, you know."

Emily rolled her eyes. "All right, let's try again. I was saying that we should accent that beat, and then listen to my run..." Emily played the seven ascending notes. " ... Catch the top note."

"Which beat was it? Can you point it out again?" Richard asked impishly.

Emily just swatted his shoulder.

Richard did as Emily suggested, and after a few repeats, they had established the short introduction with a little more authority.

"I think that's better," Richard said.

"Definitely," Sandra agreed. "The first few lines sing over a similar thing as the intro."

Richard nodded. He penciled in the accents and a couple of counts in his score, and then waited for Emily to start the movement again. This time they went on, and Sandra sang with them. Richard began to make sense of the movement, and things went smoother on his end.

He found that playing accompaniment was quite different than playing solo piano, and was still somewhat surprised by that. He had always assumed accompanists were just pianists who preferred playing in ensembles. Or pianists who were not good enough to play solo, even.

In the past month, while working on the Serenade, he had realized that was not the case. At Irina's suggestion, he had worked a couple of times on the Serenade with Nelson Jackson, the head of the Accompaniment department. Despite his strange behaviors, the man had a completely different approach to the instrument than Irina did, and Richard already found some of his advice creeping into his solo playing.

After an hour of hard work, the trio took a break and sat on the couch to drink some water.

"Well, we're getting somewhere," Sandra said.

"I'm still not really happy with what I'm doing," Richard said.

"Why not?"

"Not sure," he said. "There's something about the music which is hard to play. I guess I'm still new to playing with other people, too."

"You've done fine when we've done some of my songs for fun," Sandra said.

"Probably because I was drunk," Richard said, sniggering.

Emily and Sandra laughed.

"And, those piano parts seemed more like what I usually play for my solo rep," Richard added. "This," he said, gesturing to the score on the piano, "is pretty different."

"It'll shape up," Emily said confidently. "We've hardly played this movement."

"True," Richard said. "Well, let's keep going. I want to get through the whole thing as best we can so I know what to work on this winter."

They took their places again, and began to work on the second verse.

During a pause, they heard a knock on the door. Emily went over and opened it.

"Hello," she said to the person in the hallway.

"Sorry to intrude," the man said softly with his British accent. "Are you... ?"

Richard had moved to the door. "Hi, Mr. Jackson."

"Oh, hello there, Richard. I was just walking by," he said, indicating the hallway. His words came measured and almost shyly. "I heard what sounded like the Serenade coming from this room."

"You're right. We were just rehearsing the Hymn," Richard said. "This is Emily, who's playing the horn. And that's Sandra. This is Mr. Jackson."

The girls waved, and Nelson Jackson smiled and nodded.

"How is the piece going?" he asked.

"Challenging," Richard said. "This movement is difficult. For me anyway."

Nelson nodded. "Would you like me to listen for a moment?"

Richard looked at the girls, who smiled expectantly. "That would be great," he said to him.

Nelson sat on a chair to Richard's left where he could watch the score, and Sandra and Emily as well.

"Let me hear you play," he said.

Richard expected him to stop them right away, but he let them play through the short movement.

Nelson nodded when they finished. "A good start, yes ... Not bad."

The three of them watched him as he stared at the music. For many long seconds, no one moved.

"Have you listened to the piece in the library?" he asked.

"Many times," Emily said. Richard nodded in agreement.

"Yes, of course," Nelson said.

There was more silence. Nelson considered something invisible in his hands. Then he hummed a few notes.

At last he looked up. "Please, play again."

This time, he did stop them after Sandra entered.

"Richard," Nelson said pensively.

"Yes?"

Nelson rubbed his chin. "Playing piano is all an illusion," he said, cryptically.

"Okay," Richard answered.

"It just comes down to how hard you press each key, and when you let it go, really ... In between, you have no control of the sound." Nelson paused for a while again. "Yes..."

Suddenly, he seemed to wake up from his trance.

"This movement is all pizzicato in the strings, is it not?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Richard agreed.

"You must try to play the piano more like that. Your notes are too long, now. It sounds like a piano! I know it is a piano, but try not to let it sound like one! Play the beginning, Richard."

Richard did as Nelson asked, and was immediately stopped.

"Better, but..."

Nelson gestured to Richard, and Richard stood up to let him sit at the piano.

"It still sounds like a piano. Feel the pulse of the pizzicato. That is what you must capture."

Nelson started to play, bouncing his hands on the keys as he played the accompaniment. "See, it's in the attack and release of the keys. You must propel this young lady's horn playing," he said, nodding to Emily. "Brilliant playing, by the way, Emily."

Emily started to thank him, but it was lost as Nelson began to sing the horn part while he played the accompaniment. Then he sang Sandra's first few lines as he continued playing the horn part with one hand and the string orchestra part with the other. Richard found himself smiling as Nelson covered all the parts with aplomb.

"Here," Nelson said, suddenly rising from the piano bench in mid-phrase. "Try it."

The three of them shook out of their stares and played again. After Sandra sung a few lines, Nelson stopped them.

"That's beautifully sung, Sandra. Very delicate, yet urgent." He then addressed Richard and Emily. "The two of you must match that feeling. We've heard your parts during the introductory bit; now you must pipe down and support her. But play with her, too. Play together. Collaborate on the music. Each part alone is of little worth."

For the next fifteen minutes, Nelson was a fount of ideas for how to work on the movement. His suggestions applied to the three of them, not just to Richard, and Richard found himself considering things about the music he had not thought of.

Then Nelson abruptly stood up in the middle of one passage. Sandra, Emily and Richard stopped playing immediately.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I must leave. I am late for a lesson!" Nelson nodded to them. "We will work more on the piece after winter break, I hope?"

"Yes," Richard said. "Maybe we can meet weekly?"

"That would be brilliant," Nelson said, as he opened the studio door. "Until then," he said, nodding again. Then he was gone.

The three of them let out a breath they seemed to have been holding since Nelson's arrival.

"Wow," Sandra said.

"That was pretty cool," Richard said.

"Yeah. Towards the end there, I felt like we were actually playing music," Emily said.

"Well, it is, isn't it?" Richard said, smiling as he thought back to Dobra's comment earlier.

Sandra smiled too. She had been touched when Richard had told her earlier how much that little comment 'Think of it as music' had helped him. It was ironic that their regular sessions with Sandra playing examples so Richard could practice had led to nominal improvement, while a simple comment had caused a great stride.

"Let's keep going," Richard said, excitement in his voice. "I'm feeling this now."

"Me too," Sandra said.

Emily raised her horn to her lips again, and they resumed working with new enthusiasm.

-------

"Look what you did," Emily said, as she pushed herself up from the desk to stand up.

"What?" Richard asked, breathing heavily.

"You knocked all the papers off, and they fell behind my desk." Emily arched a brow at him as she put her bra back on. "You need to pick them up."

"I think that was all you," Richard said, remaining seated on the edge of the bed.

"No, no, no. You pushed me onto the desk and made me thrash around."

"But you kissed me when I came up to the room."

"You wore my favorite shirt tonight."

"You kept leaning over to point out things in my music after Nelson left."

Emily opened her mouth, but she had run out of precedents. She paused, one leg already through her panties. "All right, maybe it is my fault. I guess I should pick them up."

She slipped the leg back out and tossed the panties onto Richard's lap. She gave him a little pout, her eyes flashing mischievously. Turning slowly, she then got down and crawled under the desk.

Richard took in her wiggling behind for a few moments before moving to kneel behind her. Emily's deep and long murmur sent a tingle through Richard's body.

"Thought I'd help you pick up the papers," he said, thrusting hard to push her further under the desk.

"Oh! Really..."

"Yeah."

"What papers... ?"

Richard gave another thrust. "You'll get there eventually." Richard was talking to the empty surface of Emily's desk now, and could only see her butt when he looked down. It was a disjoint but erotic position to be in.

The door to the room opened and then slammed closed.

"Oh my god, what are you doing?" Sandra cried, as she burst out laughing.

Emily was unable to do more than groan.

"Emily dropped some papers behind the desk," Richard explained. "I was helping."

"You need to be more careful. There was a bunch of people in the hallway. If they had peeked in when I opened the door, they would have had quite the show!"

"Sorry," Richard said, feeling a surge of adrenaline at the thought. "Next time I'll hang my tie on the door."

Sandra giggled and peered over Richard's shoulder at the union. "Quite the show..." she repeated softly. "And how did those papers get down there?"

"Not sure," Richard said, his voice more labored now.

"Right," Sandra said, patting his shoulder.

"You want to have a go?" he asked her.

"No. I need to get to bed. I have an early master class tomorrow."

"Oh, right. We might be a while, though. Just started round two," Richard said, laughing.

Sandra ran a hand over his chest as she moved around him. "Well, maybe just a taste," she said, reaching further down.

Richard threw his head back as Sandra lowered hers. For some time, he alternated between them, and it felt amazing. Emily was growing closer and closer to orgasm as Sandra teased her. Just when he couldn't hold out any longer, Sandra pushed him back into Emily, patted his butt and stood up.

"Take your time!" she whispered into his ear.

"You are wicked," Richard breathed back, before pulling her in for a deep kiss, making Sandra squeak in surprise, before she melted into the kiss.

"You are welcome," Sandra said, finally pulling away.

Richard turned his attention back to Emily.

"Come out from under there," he said. "I want to see your face now."

Emily backed out from beneath the desk, half in a trance, and Richard guided her so that she lay face down on the rug instead.

Before resuming, he looked down at Emily, lying there with closed eyes. A few strands of hair crossed her flushed cheek, and her smile seemed to expectantly await his touch on her body. A wave of pleasure rolled through him as he felt saturated with the way she looked just then. Richard leaned down and kissed her ear gently.

"You are so beautiful, Emily," he whispered.

Emily just shuddered slightly, and then opened her eyes to smile at him.

Richard trailed the kisses down from her ear and across her jaw line, ending on her chin. Feeling warm and full of emotion, he laid his cheek against hers for a moment. He could feel her face alive beneath his, vibrating in time with her still quivering body. She was holding onto the edge of her earlier pleasure, despite his more innocent touches.

Richard rose up and began to slowly massage Emily's shoulders and neck. He was removing her bra clasp to free her back for his wandering hands, when he noticed Sandra watching them from her desk. She was cheerily organizing her books. Richard glanced at the clock and grimaced. Sandra just smiled and waved the thought away. "Don't worry," she mouthed.

Richard smiled back, and blew her a little kiss. Sandra licked her lips suggestively, and then giggled silently before pointing at Emily.

Richard continued his massage, working down Emily's body as he occasionally placed kisses on appealing curves of smooth skin. Beneath his hands, Emily's flesh was warm and soft, and he spent a long time just feeling the arc of her waist, and the curve of her butt.

Eventually he gave in to the excitement that was rebuilding inside of him, and he entered her slowly, still massaging her body. He pulled on her shoulders to meet with her deeply, and then pushed up along her back to move out again. His strong hands worked the full length of her back as he used her body to pull himself in and out of her.

"Oh..." Emily gasped. "This is ... amazing!"

Sandra was in her bed now, watching from the edge of her mattress with a content look on her face.

Richard kept up the deliberately slow pace of the massage and lovemaking for a long time. It seemed to be driving Emily into a fit. Her hands began to grasp at the fibers of the rug, and her legs bent and straightened as she squeezed off the tension.

Just as Richard sensed Emily was about to scream, he placed a kiss on the back of her neck and moved slightly faster.

"Oh... !" she whispered. "Oh, yes..."

Emily's body tensed up and twisted slightly as she suddenly became motionless. For a long time, Richard could see she was on the precipice, not quite able to fall off. She lay there biting her lip.

Just a little faster, then... 

Then it happened. Emily let out a long moan, and Richard slowed again to his earlier pace. Now it was heavenly for her.

Richard groaned, and surprised himself. Even though the physical sensations were nice, the slow movements should not have been enough. But it was the exquisite pleasure displayed in Emily's fluttering eyelids and slightly open mouth that suddenly did him in.

The slow movements translated into an equally slow and extended orgasm for him, and it felt like he emptied his whole soul into her.

-------

"That was amazing," Emily said, wonder in her voice. "I wasn't sure if I was going to breathe again, for a little while there."

Emily was draped over Richard's body, a position they had moved to after recovering from the intense pleasure of their slow coupling. Sandra was asleep, having drifted off after watching the climax.

"Mm. It was good. I've never finished that way before."

"You liked it then?" she asked.

"Oh yeah. I thought I was going to finish up by going fast. But then I came. It was like slow motion."

"I liked the slowness," Emily said with a smile.

"Cool."

Emily glanced at the clock, and then at Sandra.

"I suppose we should get up, or something," she said.

"Why? We don't have to get up at seven."

"No, I guess you're right. I am tired, though. I'm comfy here."

They lay in silence for a while.

"You never picked up the papers," Richard murmured.

"No, I guess I didn't."

"I tried to help," Richard shrugged.

"Yeah, but then I got distracted," Emily said softly. For a moment, she seemed to be drifting off, but then she started to get up.

"Where are you going?" Richard asked.

"To pick up the papers."

"Now?"

Emily just smiled.

"Okay," Richard said, shrugging. He sat up, and Emily eyed him.

"Is it safe?" she asked shyly.

Richard grinned. "I don't know. Depends on your state of dress."

"Does it, now?" Emily frowned at him, and then found her panties nearby. She put them on, and then glanced at Richard again. Satisfied with his grin, she crawled under the desk and started to gather the papers that had fallen.

Richard watched as she cleaned the mess, and quietly crawled over behind her. He reached out and ran a finger delicately across the fabric of her underwear, right where she would feel it the most.

Emily squeaked in surprised and bumped her head on the underside of the desk.

"Ow... !"

"Sorry," Richard said, suppressing a laugh.

Emily backed out, bringing some of the papers out with her, and rubbing her head.

"I thought you said I was safe!" Emily exclaimed.

"No, I said it depended on the state of dress."

"I put on my underwear."

"That's at least as sexy as wearing nothing. I think to be safe in that position, you'd need to wear a snowsuit."

Emily burst out laughing, and then patted her head and pouted. "My head still hurts."

Richard cradled her head and gave it a kiss. "There, all better."

"Thanks. Hey, you're up!" Emily said, suddenly feeling him pressing against her.

"I guess I am."

"Haven't had enough tonight?" Emily said.

Richard grinned as he saw her eyes sparkling again. She smoothly pulled off her underwear as she turned to him.

"No, actually," he said. Emily slid over to straddle his lap and kiss his neck.

"As much as that slow sex was cool," he said, "I still feel like I need one more go. At speed."

"You mean you want to ... pound me?" Emily said lustily, kissing his ear heatedly.

"Mm, when you put it that way..."

"Pound me hard ... and deep?" Her tongue flicked around his ear and neck. Her breathing was heavier in his ear as she squirmed on top of him.

"Mm hm."

"I guess I might let you do that."

"Will you?"

"What about sleeping beauty here?"

"There's that," Richard agreed, looking over at the deep breathing form on the bed.

"We might wake her."

Richard thought for a moment, and then patted Emily's side. "Up," he said, with sudden energy.

"What are we doing?" Emily asked, as she stood and watched Richard don his jeans, ignoring his underwear.

Richard opened her closet and dug through a drawer. He pulled out a tee shirt and tossed it to her.

Emily looked at the shirt in her hand, and then at Richard, who was smiling expectantly.

She knotted her brow at him for a moment, and then pulled the shirt over her nude form. The bottom hem just covered her privates by a couple of inches.

"Shirt, with legs. Nice legs, too," Richard murmured, looking at her appreciatively.

"Now what?" Emily said.

"Let's go." Richard moved towards the door, shirtless.

"What?" Emily blurted out.

"Shh!"

"I'm like ... naked!" she whispered loudly, pulling up the front of her shirt just slightly to show him the truth of her words.

"I know," Richard said, nonchalantly.

"I'm not going out in this! I play in orchestra with these people!"

"It's late. We're not going far. Chances are no one will see us."

"Where are we going?" Emily asked, after a moment.

"Thought you weren't going out in that," Richard said, grinning.

Emily stared at him for a while, and then rushed at him, thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth. She attacked him in this way for a minute, and then backed away, a rampant wildness streaking through her eyes.

"Go, before I change my mind," she ordered.

"You make it sound like we're going to your horn lesson," Richard said, laughing quietly.

"Easy for you to say. You're the one wearing pants!"

Richard opened the door and peeked out. The hallway was deserted.

"See? No one here," he said.

Emily slipped into the hallway, and he closed the door.

"Well?" Emily asked impatiently, looking around.

"This is as far as I thought it out," Richard said, looking around.

"What?"

Emily tried the door, but it was locked.

Richard laughed as she turned to him with a frown, but before she could protest, he pulled her towards the stairs. They entered the stairwell, and again found no one.

"It'd be funny if the fire alarm went off now," Richard mused as they climbed the stairs.

Emily slapped his shoulder, but also laughed a little.

A floor and a half below, the stairwell door suddenly opened. Emily and Richard looked at each other, and then ran up the remaining stairs to the third floor, giggling. Richard pulled the door open, and they were soon in the empty hallway in front of Richard's door.

"Almost spotted," Richard said.

He fumbled with his keys.

"Um, Jer?" Emily said.

"He's probably up in Jenna's room."

"Probably?"

"We'll find out soon enough."

Richard finally opened his door, and they slipped into his room. Jer's bed was unmade and empty.

"See? We have the place to ourselves."

Richard turned to Emily, who was eyeing him warily. "You're acting a little strange," she said.

"Me?" Richard said.

"Why did you just make me do that? You've never done anything like that."

"Oh really?" Richard said, one eyebrow raised. "Let's see. I've had sex with Sandra at a fountain. I've had sex at that same fountain with you, at the dare of some relatively unknown woman who probably watched us. I've been in the women's shower, again having sex. I'm in a relationship with two women, who I might add are exceptionally adventurous in their dorm room. And ... unbelievably sexy." Richard smiled warmly. "So where exactly does a half-naked walk after midnight though the dorm hallway rank on that list?"

Emily's frown had slowly melted into a smile during Richard's monologue. She peeled off her shirt and tossed it aside.

"I'd say it ranks pretty high."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Emily leaned against the wall, a picture of arousal.

"How high?" Richard said. For a moment he swore he could feel the heat from her body on his chest.

"I'm going to show you how high. I want to do something else tonight we've never done."

"Okay."

"It's really naughty."

Richard fell his knees weaken slightly.

"Really naughty?" he repeated dryly.

"Yes."

Richard grasped onto his last remaining bit of sense, and reached for a card hanging on a hook. He held it out to Emily.

"Put this out."

Emily took the card. "Where did you get this?"

"I lifted it from the Marriott down the road a few weeks ago. I got tired of walking in on Jer and Jenna."

Emily grinned, and slipped her hand outside of the door to hang the tag. Then she locked the door and leaned against it, wiggling her bottom at Richard. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled.

"Come and get me."

Richard tore the button off of his jeans in his haste to rip them off. In a moment he was behind her. Pounding her.

-------

Joey awoke with a start. It was late. Or early. He felt around for his glasses, and finally managed to get them on right. Too much drink,  he thought, still feeling the beer in his system. I guess that means it's early.

He staggered to his feet and then felt the bed move beside him. For a second he stumbled back, unsure if he was hallucinating. Then he remembered Beth. She's still here!

He felt a surge of excitement, and then quelled it. She was asleep. Best not to wake her. For a first date, I got extremely lucky!

Being the dorm resident director came with the privilege of a large bed in a large room, and he had at last had the opportunity to use both sides of the bed tonight. He smiled as he opened his dorm room door and ambled towards the bathroom.

He was so lost in happy thoughts of his recent fornication that he almost missed it. A rhythm. Who the fuck is practicing at one in the morning? Probably Marius or David. Damn percussionists never give up trying to work their patterns.

He considered dismissing the noise, but then he turned down the hall, intrigued. Maybe his arousal led him to the idea that the sound was sexual.

He smirked as he rounded the corner and heard the door being bumped rhythmically. No percussionists lived in that room. Now it was just a question of who it was. Two guys, three girls.

The 'Do Not Disturb' sign was out on the handle. It had to be Jer and Jenna. Why would Richard be in his room when he has Emily and Sandra's room to play in?

Joey crept closer to the door, his mind in a haze. Images of Beth riding atop him were mixed with those of Jenna pinned against the door. Even though he was certain it was Jenna, he also imagined Sandra and Emily in her place, with Richard behind. He kept coming back to the image of Emily, for some reason.

God, they're going wild...  His recent conquest felt suddenly tame.

He placed a hand on the door, feeling the movement. I'm inches from a breast,  he mused, and almost laughed.

Suddenly the movement stopped. Joey came to his senses and stumbled back away from the door. What the fuck am I doing? Had he given himself away by touching the door? He turned and hurried away, and then watched from a distance. Nothing happened. They must have finished, that's all.

Letting out a long breath, he made his way to the bathroom. There was no way to relieve himself given the state he was in, so he buttoned up and returned to his room.

"Joey?" came the voice when he closed the door.

"Yeah, it's me. Just went to the bathroom."

"Oh, okay. I got worried you had a roommate."

"No, no. I'm alone here. Well, with you, that is."

Joey slipped into bed, feeling excited that Beth had roused. Can I get her aroused again?

"I had a good time tonight," he said. "That was amazing."

Beside him, he heard Beth breathing deeply again. Joey sighed, and then rolled over. It was a long time before he could clear enough thoughts from his head to sleep.

-------

"Sit on the bed," Emily whispered.

"Okay. But I was really enjoying the door," Richard said.

"Me too. But now I want to do something else."

"Oh. So, is this where things get naughty?" he asked.

"Yes."

Richard felt his stomach lurch in anticipation. It was not dissimilar to climbing to the first summit of a roller coaster, for some reason.

Emily straddled him, and began to rub herself on top of him. The whole area was entirely wet and slick, and Richard slid all around. He kept trying to enter her, but Emily would always pull up and again begin to slide back and forth on him. What a tease! Richard thought.

Emily then began to lower herself down against him, and Richard felt the pressure of her entire body focused at his middle. It was like he was pushing against her skin. She breathed in short hisses and spurts, and suddenly things gave way a little. Richard groaned as she moved up and down in tiny movements, barely turning her hips.

The angle? The heat? The passion she was exuding? Richard wondered why he felt like he was about to blow apart from the feeling. Emily, for her part, was in a foreign place, panting and moving in the slightest of increments.

"Oh. My. Fuck." Emily spurted out these words like they were her last. All of her energy was concentrated around their union.

Richard ran his hands up and down her back, trying to release some of the encroaching bliss by doing something other than being overwhelmed by her sexuality. Over the small of her back he dragged his fingers, and then over her butt cheeks...

Then he stopped breathing when he touched where they were meeting.

Oh my god! So that's what she meant by naughty! If Richard could have blown apart, he might have. His excitement boiled over as he visualized what he and Emily were doing. Naughty ... my god... ! Over the next ten seconds, as millions of thoughts flashed in his head, he started down the hill of the roller coaster.

Compared to Emily's micro movements, their earlier slow massage had been a relative pounding. Emily seemed to be feeling each millimeter at a time, vibrating slowly up and down as she went lower still.

"I..." Richard gasped.

"What... ?" Emily breathed.

He didn't know what he was going to say. "Oh my god..."

Richard's thoughts were on fire as Emily stopped moving. Both of their breaths came ragged and uneven.

"Do you know where you are?" she whispered, as if from another world. She had her eyes on his, although they were wet and slightly unfocused.

"Yeah," Richard gasped back. He realized they were both sweating.

"How does it feel?" she asked.

"I'm about to explode from ... everything. You?"

"It's ... a lot of feelings put together," Emily said.

"Good ones?"

"Oh yeah."

"My heart is fluttering," Richard said.

"Mine too. I've never done this."

"Me neither. Are you okay?"

"It hurts a little, but it's going away. Just don't move."

Richard obliged, moving only delicate fingers down her back.

After some time, Emily started her small movements again. This time, her breath was heavier with lust.

"Oh..." she murmured. It was a throaty sound Richard had not heard her make before.

Emily never moved far or deep, but every motion seemed to grab at Richard and twist him up. The end was imminent for him, and he had no more reserve of control to draw from.

"This is..." he said. Both of their chests were heaving again.

"What, my love?" Emily said blissfully.

Richard almost collapsed back on the bed at her words and tone. He wanted to rip his body apart and just grab on to the essence of feeling which was filling him so completely at that moment. Grab onto it and live there forever.

"This is too much!" Richard cried, fighting to control his body from moving.

"Then just let it go," she said, gripping his hair and pulling him towards her chest.

"Are you sure?" Richard managed through clenched teeth.

"Yes. Oh yes, I am." With that, Emily began to move in earnest. Her voice cried out in surprise and ecstasy, and even pain as she threw away the holds on her legs and crushed herself down onto him.

Richard closed his eyes and held on to Emily's waist as she rode him with more vigor. He found one of his hands sliding down her front, and still unbelieving, he slid a finger and then two into her.

It was the end of the world for Emily. She thrashed and stuttered her movements a few times, unable to breathe or cry out. She reached several states of amazement where her mouth opened and quivered, and her eyebrows lifted in surprise.

When Richard exploded, it felt like the stars had entered the room. His eyes sparkled and he fell back onto the bed, unable to hold on to Emily any longer. All control of his muscles was lost. He whirled around in empty space with Emily still above him. The edges of his sight grew dim for a while, and her silhouette filled his thoughts as he turned himself inside out, inside of her.

With a last thrust, Emily held herself stone still for many long seconds, and then she collapsed onto Richard's chest in a pile of damp flesh and hair.

For a moment, Richard felt her chest heave and her body spasm, and then he passed out.

-------

"I know who our peeping tom is," Emily said.

"Who?" Richard asked, unsure if he was dreaming.

"Joey."

"The dorm director?"

"Yeah."

"No way."

"I saw him," Emily offered.

"When?"

"When you were banging me against the door."

"Huh?"

"I was looking out the peephole, just because it was right there. And he popped into view."

"Are you serious?" Richard asked, amusement touching his voice.

"Yeah. He must have heard the noise of the door."

"Is that dude always on patrol or something?"

"He looked kind of out of it, actually. He watched for a while, and then he put his hand on the door."

"What a weirdo!"

"Yeah, it was weird. Just to mess with him, I had you stop right then. You should have seen him take off!"

Richard laughed, imagining Joey's face as he slinked off down the hall.

"You should have turned the door handle quickly."

Emily laughed. "And killed the guy!"

"He needs to get laid."

"For sure."

Suddenly, there was a light knock at the door.

Emily rolled off of Richard and slipped under his sheets, while Richard fumbled to put his jeans on as he hopped to the door.

"Jer," he muttered as he pulled the door open.

"Hey man," Jer said.

Richard pointed to the sign. "Can't you read, man?"

Jer looked down in surprise. "Oh, shit! I didn't even see that."

"Why'd you knock, then?" Richard asked, confused.

"I forgot my keys."

Richard sniffed. "And if I hadn't been here?"

Jer shrugged. "I would have gone back up. I need some rubbers, though. Who else is here?" he asked, looking past Richard.

"Just come in," Richard said, ignoring the question.

Jer entered the room and glanced at the bed. "Oh, hi Emily. Sorry." He put a hand up to the side of his face to block his view of Richard's side of the room. "Carry on."

Emily burst out laughing. "Carry on. Come on Richard, you heard him. Carry on!"

Richard stood motionless in the center of the room, watching with raised brow as Jer dug through his drawers.

"Fuck. Where are they?" Jer cursed.

Richard waited patiently.

Jer looked over at him. "Sorry. Should have seen the sign, man. You've never used it before, though." Jer straightened. "Why are you in here anyway?"

"Sandra's sleeping."

"Oh. Right on. Richard, do you have any..."

Richard rolled his eyes. "No, man."

"You out too?"

"I don't need them," Richard said, feeling awkward at revealing the information in front of Emily.

"You should have Jenna check into the pill," Emily said, patting Richard on the back. "Things are way better without condoms getting in the way."

Jer stared at Emily for a few moments, before shaking out of it. "Cool." He stood up. "Well, guess I'm out of luck. Night's over, I guess."

"You can do plenty of things without one," Emily said suggestively.

Richard suppressed a guffaw as Jer looked at her wide-eyed for second, and then grinned. He put his hand to his face again as he walked to the door. "Carry on."

"We'll be out of here soon," Richard called out. "Just need to put on some clothes."

Jer's glance shot to the bed. Richard could see him trying to burn holes in the sheets with his eyes. Emily just grinned at him and waved innocently.

"Bye!"

Finally Jer shut the door.

"What a trip," Richard said, as he tossed Emily her shirt and a pair of boxers from his drawer.

"Yeah, he's funny. He's in awe of you," Emily said.

Richard frowned. "No."

"Yeah."

"Whatever."

Emily pulled her shirt on as she stood up. She pulled Richard into an embrace. "What an amazing night," she sighed.

"Yeah. Memorable."

"Come sleep in my bed," Emily murmured.

"Okay. Let me go to the bathroom and I'll be up in a bit."

"I'll be waiting." She slipped his key ring around her finger and went towards the door.

Richard picked up the boxers from his bed. "Don't want these?"

Emily just shrugged and went out.

Richard quickly grabbed his towel and toothbrush and followed. Emily was already out of the hallway and in the stairwell. Richard pulled the door open, and looked down to the next landing. Emily was not there. Then he heard a low whistle.

She had gone up. Richard found himself staring straight up at her treasures.

"Looking for someone?" she asked, standing casually at the railing.

"Found her," Richard said.

"I'll be waiting. I think I'll clean up those papers, at last. Just come on in. I'll leave things open..."

Richard laughed, and watched as she walked down, passed him with a finger dragging across his chest, and then continued down to her floor.

-------

When Richard entered the girls' room a few minutes later, Emily was still in her shirt. She smiled warmly at him. Richard noticed that the papers were all on the desk.

"Probably a good thing you took care of that," he said, pointing to the pile. "I'm beat."

"Me too. But, I found something interesting under the desk."

"And it wasn't you?" Richard said.

"No. Look."

Emily handed him an envelope. Richard vaguely recognized it. When he looked at the return address, he opened his mouth.

"Oh, wait. Crap, we got this a long time ago!"

"Huh?"

"Sandra picked it up the night ... Well, the night the thing with Joel happened."

"Oh. Why didn't she open it?"

"We were waiting for you. Then with everything else that happened, I guess it got mixed in with your papers and we forgot about it."

Sandra stirred in her bed, and then sat up.

"Oh, hey you. What time is it?" she asked groggily.

"Almost two," Emily said.

"You party animals..."

Richard and Emily shared a smile.

"I have to pee," Sandra said, shuffling to the door.

When she returned, Richard addressed her. "Remember the letter from Allison that you got back in November?" Richard said.

Sandra frowned, and then the memory came back to her. "Oh yeah! What happened to it?"

"It just turned up."

"In those papers Richard dropped," Emily added, laughing.

Sandra cleared the sleep from her eyes. "Let's open it. Wow, I forgot all about it."

Emily fingered the envelope and pulled out the letter, and then read it aloud.

"'Dear Emily, Sandra, and Richard. Sorry it took such a long time to write back. Things have been crazy over here. I hope this letter finds you well. I miss the short time we spent together. Thank you for letting me share in your music and... ' She drew a little heart," Emily said.

"That must be for you," Richard said, nudging Sandra.

Sandra just giggled a little. "Or for you and Emily at the fountain, heh heh."

"Go on," Richard said to Emily.

"'I am excited to hear that you will play a recital. I am trying to arrange a trip to the States around that time so I can come. I hope that is not too forward.'"

"Oh, that would be awesome!" Sandra cried.

"'I will let you know if it works out. Here is my phone and email (not sure if you use email there). Please keep in touch. Love, Allison.'"

"I hope it works out. It would be great to have her there."

"Cool, our audience is up to at least nine, if she makes it," Richard mused.

"Let's call her," Emily said suddenly.

Richard frowned. "At two in the morning?"

"It's not two over there, silly!"

Richard laughed. "Oh, right. Sorry. It's two over here, which means I can't think."

Emily dug out a card from her wallet. "Calling card," she explained. "I call my dad overseas with it when he's on tour."

"What time is it there?"

Emily dug around and pulled out a world map. "Let's find out."

The three of them gathered around, and eventually put the time in Melbourne to be in the late afternoon.

Emily dialed the number Allison had provided. The three of them gathered around the receiver. A man with a thick accent answered.

"Is Allison there?" Emily asked.

"Sure, she's here. Who's calling?"

"This is Emily."

"All right, hold on. I'll put her on."

After a few moments, Allison answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi Allison! It's Emily from the United States. Do you remember meeting us when..."

"Emily! How good to hear from you! I was just thinking about you."

"Sandra and Richard are here too, listening."

Richard and Sandra delivered greetings into the phone.

"Wonderful! How is everything going?" Allison asked.

"Great, really great."

"That's brilliant. I'm so happy to hear the three of you together."

"We just opened your letter today," Emily said.

"Oh!" Allison laughed. "The post is slower than ever."

"Well ... Sandra got it a few weeks ago, but it got misplaced. But we found it."

"Are you still thinking of coming to the recital?" Sandra said into the phone, and pressed her ear closer to Emily's.

"Yes. In fact, I finalized the trip this week. I'll be there from the eighth until the fourteenth. Hopefully I'll be able to get a ticket to your concert?"

The three of them laughed. "Oh, there's still a couple of seats left," Richard said. "We'll save you one."

"Or two? Are you coming alone, or... ?" Emily asked.

"Yeah, it will just be me. Ian will need to stay here for work."

"Well, this is great," Sandra said. "It will be so good to see you again."

"Likewise, likewise," Allison said. "Thanks for calling. But what time is it there?"

"Two in the morning," Emily said.

"My god! Practicing hard, or having fun?" Allison asked.

"Both," they all said together.

Allison laughed richly. "It's so good to hear from you. I'm sure this call is costing you a fortune, so I won't keep you. Let me know how the recital preparations go over the coming months. I'm living this recital through you, you know!"

"We will call or write again soon," Emily said. "Good to talk with you."

They said their goodbyes, and then Emily hung up.

"This is so cool. For some reason, this makes me really happy," Sandra said.

"Yeah, me too," Richard agreed.

"We'll have people from all over the world coming to see our recital now," Emily said grandly. " 'Attracting audiences from the far reaches of the globe, the trio played to a huge audience of ten people!' " Emily announced.

The three of them laughed, and then Sandra yawned. "Oh no. I need to be up in four hours!"

"We better get to sleep. I'm going to crash with Emily tonight, if that's all right," Richard told Sandra.

"Of course, sweetie," she said, caressing his face.

Rather quickly they settled into their beds, and a deep, contented sleep followed shortly after.

-------

"Do you think it would be weird if I invited Billy to the recital?" Sandra asked.

"No, why?" Emily said.

They were folding clothes in the laundry area.

"Just wondering. I think he might even come."

"Sure. He'd probably like to see what you've been up to."

"I'll ask him over break," Sandra said. "I've been thinking about him since our trip, for some reason."

"What about?"

"He seemed really down."

"He misses you," Emily agreed.

"Mm. I feel bad that things aren't going so well for him at school. I was kind of expecting him to have moved on."

"It would be easier if he had."

Sandra shrugged. "I'm fine, but it was sad to hear him say how much he missed me. At least maybe I can share some of what I'm doing with him by inviting him to the recital."

"That might make him regret losing you even more," Emily said.

"Maybe. But at least I can reach out to him. He's a good guy."

"I thought so too," Emily agreed.

"Maybe Kyle will come with him," Sandra said, nudging her playfully.

"Maybe," Emily said, laughing. "I don't see him sitting through the concert, for some reason."

"Maybe not."

"How was the master class this morning?" Emily asked.

"Amazing. No wonder he's a regular at the Met. I got to sing for him. He liked what I did, and had some great musical ideas."

"Cool. Sounds like it was worth going to bed early for," Emily said.

"Yeah. I passed out after you and Richard finished."

"That wasn't really the end," Emily said quietly, glancing at the laundry room entry.

"Oh no?"

Someone entered the laundry room with a bag of clothes.

"Hi Ben," Sandra said cheerfully.

"What's up? Are you still using the machines?" Ben asked.

"No, we're almost done. Just folding up."

"Cool."

Emily smiled at Sandra and gave her a look. "We found a room to practice in, so we wouldn't wake you. We tried playing that piece I was talking about the other night."

Sandra frowned for a moment, and then glanced at Ben. Then she looked at Emily with wide eyes as she understood.

"How did it..." Sandra trailed off, eyeing Ben again.

"Cute," Emily said, holding up a pair of Sandra's panties.

Sandra snatched it from her hand, and then swatted Emily with them. Sandra folded the last items of clothing, and then hefted their basket.

Emily grabbed the detergent. "It was really amazing," she said, grinning.

Sandra whispered to her as she passed by. "You are bad!"

Emily giggled and followed her out of the laundry room.

-------

Finals arrived in a hurry. Richard was a little nervous as he sat in Dobra's office for the aural portion of the exam. Even though he felt like he suddenly had made a breakthrough after his practice session a week before, he still didn't know what Dobra would throw at him.

I've worked hard, though, and he has to know that,  Richard thought.

Dr. Dobra finished writing something in his ledger and then turned to Richard.

"Ready?"

"I guess so."

"What do you want to do first?"

"Um ... Sight singing?"

"Very well. Here you go." He passed a sheet to Richard. There were five melodies on the page. Richard glanced at them, relieved that for the most part they looked less challenging than what they had been doing in class the last month. The last example, however, looked tricky.

"Pick one."

Richard looked up, surprised, and then he scanned the melodies again.

"How about number four?"

"Here's your starting A." Dobra played a note on the piano.

Richard hummed the note, and then started to sing. "La Do Mi, Mi Re Fa..."

It seemed too easy. He finished, and Dobra made a notation in his book.

"Pick another."

Richard glanced at the page again. He knew Dobra was watching him.

Richard shrugged and threw caution to the wind. "I'll try the last one, number five."

Dobra nodded, smiling slightly. He played a note, and Richard took a moment to scan the melody again.

He sang it slowly, but at a measured tempo. He had learned that if the rhythm and notes were correct, even a snail's pace was acceptable for sight singing in Dobra's class.

When he finished, Dobra nodded. "Good, Richard."

Richard grinned. "Number three?" he said, feeling on a roll.

"No, that's enough," Dobra said, laughing slightly. "If you had a nice voice, then perhaps..."

Richard laughed, wondering how many examples Sandra would have to sing later that day.

Dobra proceeded to play the melodic and harmonic dictations, and Richard felt like he breezed through them. He started worrying about the easiness of the exam. Is he messing with me?

After a few intervals and chords thrown in for completeness, Dobra stood up.

"Do you want your grade now, or would you prefer to wait until grades come out next week?"

"Now, I guess," Richard said, feeling jittery.

Dobra turned to the black board behind him. He wrote up a sixty-two.

"What?" Richard blurted out.

Dobra turned, holding a calming hand up. He grinned. "Hang on, Richard. Don't get excited."

Richard realized he was partly out of his chair.

"This is where you stood at the midterm," Dobra said, pointing to the number. Then he wrote a second score below it.

"This is how you did today." Dobra considered the numbers for a moment. "Below the edge of where I'd usually cut off, but given the obvious progress and work you put in this last month, I'm willing to give you an A for the year."

Richard let out a long breath, and then smiled. "Thanks," he managed. "Sorry I got excited there."

Dobra just nodded in acknowledgement.

"Is the written final tomorrow?" Richard asked, for lack of anything else to say. He knew it was.

"At the usual class time. Will I see you in my course next semester?"

Richard stood up, and nodded. "I think so."

"Excellent. Good luck tomorrow."

"Thanks," Richard said, still not believing his grade. A week ago he would have scoffed at the thought.

He exited the office and stood there looking around.

"How was it?" asked the guy who was waiting to enter.

"Not bad," Richard said distantly. "Not too bad."

-------

Sandra went into Dobra's office at her scheduled exam time.

"How are you today?" he asked, as he looked up from the piano.

"Nervous," Sandra said.

"Understandable," he said. "Many people do poorly on their third semester exam, for some reason."

Sandra grimaced, and sat in the chair. She started to pull out her notebook.

"No need for paper," Dobra said, catching her movement. He turned to the board and wrote up some music on two staves.

"Here you go," he said, sitting in a chair to the side of the board.

Sandra looked at the example. It was a duet of two melodies.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked. "Analyze it?"

Dobra smiled. "No. Sing it. Both melodies at once."

Sandra was unsure if she should laugh. Is he crazy? Or is he going to sing with me!

"Sing it?" she asked, raising a brow.

"Think of it as music," Dobra said, smiling. "Sing it, however you want."

Sandra stood up and turned back to the board, still not understanding. Her words had come back to her, though, and she considered the notes Dobra had written.

Then she cleared the doubts from her head and began to hear the two voices as music. The second melody only moved when the first melody held a long note or rested. She played the duet in her head a few times, starting to understand how the second voice supported the first, delineating a harmony with just a few moving notes. It was obviously impossible to sing two notes at once, but... If I sing parts of both, it would give the impression of a duet.

Sandra took a deep breath and vocalized the melody, ignoring the syllables typically attached to the notes they sung in class.

Between the short phrases of the main melody, she inserted some of the notes from the second part, trying to make it sound like a distinct voice. It was a challenge, but she thought she managed fairly well, considering the task at hand, and the butterflies going berserk in her tummy.

When she finished, she looked at Dobra expectantly. At first, he just looked at her silently, and then she noticed he was chuckling softly.

"You are a pleasure to listen to, Sandra," he said quietly. "Whoever said musicianship is taught obviously never met you. Sign up for counterpoint class next semester."

"Counterpoint?"

Dobra pointed to the board. "Counterpoint," he said. "Okay, you are finished."

"What?"

"I'll see you for the written final tomorrow afternoon."

"That's it?"

"That's it. Unless you want more?"

Sandra stood speechless for a long moment. "What about the dictations?" she asked at last.

"A waste of time, with you," Dobra said, waving the thought away. "No need for formalities. I run the exams how I choose."

Sandra lifted her bag after a moment. "All right. So ... did I do okay in the class?"

Dobra laughed. "Sandra. You are fine. I would already give you an A for next semester's ear training course, even, if they'd let me."

Sandra laughed a little. "This is still a little weird. I spent all weekend practicing for the final."

"I know. And you should keep working. You do still have to take the written portion tomorrow, like everyone else."

"That won't be as easy, I guess."

"You should be fine. Just use what you've learned, and remember your chord types and suspensions. Then you'll have an A in both courses."

Sandra nodded. "Okay. Thanks for all your help this semester," she said.

"It's been my pleasure," Dobra said, smiling.

Sandra stepped out of his office, feeling a mix of elation and some confusion.

-------

Richard pulled the door open to Belinda's Café. "Back to where it all started," he announced, as the aroma of food washed over them. Emily and Sandra entered, and he followed.

Richard scanned the tables he could see, and then checked with the server, while the girls chatted by the front door.

"He's not here yet."

"Let's get a table then," Emily said. "I can't believe we haven't been back since that first night we went out."

"The same booth is open," Sandra pointed out.

The hostess accommodated their request, and soon they were sitting in that booth, with Richard across from the girls.

Sandra pouted. "It's going to be a long three weeks," she lamented.

Richard nodded. "Yeah, that's for sure." He reached for their hands and gave them a squeeze. They smiled back at him.

Richard caught a movement by the front door, and then grinned. "Here he comes."

-------

Vittorio looked around as he entered the restaurant, and then caught sight of Richard. Pride filled his chest as he saw his son for the first time in almost four months. He looked older, like a full-grown man, really. The slightly grown beard and longer hair framed a face that had lost most of its boyish qualities. It reminded Vittorio of himself when he was courting Angelina.

"Ei, Riccardo!" Vittorio cried as he pulled him into an embrace, and then kissed each of his cheeks. "How are you, my son?"

"Good, good," Richard answered in Italian. "How was the trip?"

"Fairly long," Vittorio said. "But let's forget that. Let's eat, and I want to hear how your exams went. Is the food good here?"

"Yes, it's great. I have some friends here," Richard said, as he led Vittorio to the booth. Two young women were peeking around the dividing wall, watching their greeting.

"This is Sandra and Emily. I'm playing the recital with them," Richard said. "This is my dad, Vittorio."

Vittorio smiled at them, and then took them into hug and kissed their cheeks as well, which elicited a laugh from each.

"They're charming," Vittorio said to Richard in Italian, smiling broadly.

"Grazie. E un piacere, " Sandra said, smiling shyly.

Vittorio smiled in surprise. "Ah, si parla Italiano! Come bella!"

"Sorry, I'm the only one who doesn't speak Italian," Emily said apologetically.

"It's okay. I no speak English too good, but I try, heh heh," Vittorio said.

They took their seats and soon the server brought some wine and bread. At first Vittorio was surprised to see the two friends there, and was perhaps slightly disappointed that he would not have the time alone with Richard. Then he remembered the long drive home tomorrow, knowing that there would be enough time to catch up. By the time the appetizers arrived, he also realized that the young women could tell him a lot more about Richard and the school than Richard probably ever would.

The night passed quickly as he heard tales about their instructors and the lessons they had to go through. The young women seemed to know a lot about Richard, and Vittorio was charmed by the teasing yet caring manner they used when talking about his son.

All too soon, Vittorio had collected his change from the bill sleeve and they stood.

"I take you to school," he offered, as they stepped outside into the frigid air.

"Thank you," Emily said. "It's really cold, all of the sudden."

They piled into Vittorio's car. Richard sat in the back with Emily, and Sandra sat up front to practice her Italian. Vittorio found her accent to be moderate, which was good for someone who learned in the States. She didn't have the flavor of any dialect, pronouncing the words too fully. What she lacked in technique, though, she made up for with enthusiasm. She asked all about the house Vittorio's family had in Italy, and what it was like to have lived there as a child.

Once at the dorm, Richard came around and hugged Vittorio.

"I'll be here at seven," Vittorio said.

"I'll be down by then," Richard said. "You know how to get to the hotel?"

"Yes, it's just down there." Vittorio clapped him on the back, and then said goodbye to the two young women.

"I hope to see you again. Come to our house. We will eat pasta, meat ... Wine. Angelina makes good food."

Emily and Sandra thanked him, and soon Vittorio watched as the three of them hurried out of the cold and into the dorm.

Sitting back down in the car, he found himself feeling happy that Richard had made such good friends. I wonder if one is his girlfriend, and he was too shy to say... 

He shrugged, wondering if he'd know tomorrow, and drove off to his hotel room.

-------

Three wine glasses clinked together in the center of the room.

"To us," they said together.

Richard drank slowly, watching the girls watch him, and each other.

"Your dad's fun," Sandra said.

"He looks like he likes to have a good time," Emily agreed.

Richard laughed. "Mostly he likes to eat, drink and talk. Everything else is extra."

"What time are you getting up?"

"Uh, ten of seven should be good. I'm packed. Just need to throw on clothes and carry my shit downstairs."

Emily set the alarm clock. "Eight hours left," she said. "To say goodbye, and sleep, I guess. Not much time."

"I can sleep in the car," Richard said, with a grin.

Sandra smiled sadly. "My German final is at nine," she said. "I need to sleep at least a few hours."

Richard nodded. "I know. I was just kidding. I just want to take it easy tonight, and love you both."

For a while, they just looked at each other as they hugged in a loose circle.

Richard felt a little tight as he realized he was just hours from leaving them for the break. As fun as it would be to see his family, a couple of old friends, and his piano teacher, he knew he'd be counting the moments until he returned to Wexford.

He pulled the two girls close to him, holding them firmly against his chest.

"I'm going to miss you like crazy," he said, feeling his throat tighten up. "I've had an amazing time with both of you this semester. Unforgettable times. You have both helped me through so much, and made my life so ... exciting, and happy."

He kissed their heads, and told them he loved them. They came up to look at him, their eyes wet. He kissed each in turn.

"You've made us really happy too."

"And helped us."

"And loved us."

"We both love you."

Richard closed his eyes as he felt himself pulled to the bed.

The hours passed slowly. They made love, cuddled, slept, whispered, cried, made love again.

It was still dark when Richard slipped out from under the sheet and reset the alarm in time for Sandra's exam. He stretched and pulled on his clothes.

It was six forty-two.

He spent the next twelve minutes watching his loves on the bed. Emily was curled up behind Sandra, who was facing the wall. Emily's arm was draped over Sandra's middle, and they both breathed peacefully. The sight of them was beautiful, Richard thought. So different, and yet they complemented each other so well.

He spent a few minutes setting out two roses he had purchased and hidden the previous day. He crossed their stems on the desk, and then put a card on top.

Satisfied that they still were asleep, he pulled a few things out from their closet, grabbed a few CDs, and quietly slipped them into a bag.

With a last look at the girls, Richard bent down and kissed their cheeks. Then he slipped out the door.

He climbed the steps to his room, quietly entered and grabbed his packed bags, and then walked down the stairs.

Vittorio was waiting in the warm car. He got out to help Richard load the bags into the trunk, and then they took their seats.

"Pronto, adesso?" Vittorio asked.

Richard let out a long sigh. "Si, andiamo."

Vittorio nodded, and backed out of the lot. Then the dorm grew small in the mirror, and finally disappeared.

Three and a half weeks.



-------

Chapter 26: Rhapsody


The morning was bright and quiet when Richard woke up. The muted sound of a car passing made him wonder if it had snowed over night.

From the kitchen, he heard his dad answer the phone. He couldn't figure out who it was at first. When he heard him talking about music, he realized it was Sandra.

He considered getting up, but decided to wait for the phone to come to him. He checked his watch, surprised at the lateness of the hour. I guess I have to get up,  he realized.

He made his way out to the kitchen.

"Hey," he said.

Vittorio turned around, laughing at something Sandra had said.

"Yes, that's how it is!" he said in Italian. "Here he is now. Ciao, Sandra."

Vittorio held out the phone for Richard.

"Do you want an espresso?" he asked as Richard took the receiver.

"Sure, thanks ... Hello?"

"Hi there! Sleeping in a bit, huh?"

"Yeah. It's snowing here. Guess I was tired."

"Did you have a good time with your friends last night?"

"I got home a little late, I guess. It was all right. We just hung out at Mitch's house and had some beers, caught up."

"Good. Glad you had fun."

"I can't talk long. I have to get to a job with my dad soon."

Vittorio held out a small cup for Richard. Richard nodded in thanks.

"Where are you going?"

"Same house we've been at all week. Hold on ... Mmm. Man, there's one thing I do miss when I'm back at school. Espresso."

"Did you just drink one?"

"Yeah, my dad made one for me. Just right, half cup. He has a really nice machine."

"Cool ... I wish I could come visit."

"Some time you will, I'm sure."

"Can we talk tonight?" Sandra asked.

"Um, I'll call you if I can. My piano teacher is having a holiday party tonight. I feel like I need to go and say hi for a while."

"Okay. Call me if you get a chance. If not, we'll talk tomorrow."

"Okay, that sounds good. I miss you a ton. This has been the longest week of my life," Richard said.

"I know, me too. And still two and a half more to go. Did your Aunt take off already?"

"Yeah, she left last night. She was different this trip. Much more relaxed. I think she laughed a few times, even."

"Oh, good. You really didn't seem like you were looking forward to seeing her."

"No, I wasn't. But she's mellowed out, it seems. She wanted to hear me play the piano all the time."

"Cool."

"Hopefully she'll stay like this when we're there this summer."

"Are you definitely going to Italy?"

"My parents are, for sure. They really want me to go, too."

"How long?"

"The usual, about a month."

"Nice."

"Yeah ... It would be a long time apart, though."

"I know," Sandra said.

"Would you be able to go?" Richard asked quietly, grinning.

"Me?" Sandra asked innocently, although Richard could tell she was waiting for it.

"Yeah. Wouldn't it be awesome if you and Emily came out!"

"It would be amazing! But a month? I don't know..."

"You could just come for part of the time."

"Oh, I don't know. It would cost a lot of money, too."

"Well, let's think of a way to make it work. A long time ago, I told you I would show you our place in Italy. Why not this summer?"

"Wow. I can't believe it. I'm not going to get excited about it, though," Sandra said, keeping her voice calm.

"Sounds like it's too late," Richard said grinning.

"Oh, you're right!" she cried out. "But it might not happen, I know."

"We'll see what we can do. I have to go. My dad's loading the truck."

"All right. I'll talk to you later or tomorrow. I love you!"

"Love you too, Sandra."

Richard hung up the phone and went to put on his work clothes, smiling to himself.

-------

"If I go to Italy this summer, would it be okay to bring my friends that you met the other night?" Richard asked his dad, as they worked on one wall of the living room they were painting.

"Sandra and Emily?" Vittorio asked.

"Yes."

"Well, why not? We have plenty of room at the house."

"I don't know if they would be able to come. But I will ask them."

Vittorio regarded his son carefully for a moment. "Both of them?"

"Yes. I can't take just one of them. The other would kill me!" Richard said, laughing.

Vittorio nodded. "Eh, all right. But what if one is your girlfriend by this summer?"

Richard frowned at him for a moment. "It won't matter. We are all the best of friends."

Vittorio nodded. "Sandra is charming. She must sing beautifully."

"She does. You will hear them both play in April."

"Yes, we cannot wait."

Richard finished a section and put his roller down on the tray. He stretched his arms and fingers.

"You do not have to help me," Vittorio said, watching him stretch. "Do not strain your fingers."

"I want to help," Richard said.

"Take a break. This room is almost done, and I need to mix the paint for the dining room, so just sit and relax."

Richard did, watching his dad roll over the last unpainted patch on the wall. The tape playing a Beethoven Symphony finished, so Richard put in the familiar yellow cassette of Pollini's Etudes.

"Oh, now starts the serious music," Vittorio said, grinning.

"I'm learning a few of these for the recital," Richard said.

"Excellent. I have heard you practicing them."

"They're really difficult to play correctly."

"Does your teacher play the Etudes?"

Richard nodded. "Yes, she's amazing. She knows how to teach, too. It took a few months for me to figure out how to practice, but now things are going really well."

"That is good, Riccardo."

"I'll take the subway tonight," Richard said.

"You do not want to drive in?"

"No. I don't know how late I will be there. And it could be ugly with the snow."

Vittorio nodded in agreement. "That is fine with me."

"If things get difficult, I'll stay there, so don't worry."

"Just be safe. You are an adult now; you do not have to let us know where you are every minute," Vittorio said.

He stepped down from the ladder and scanned their work for any unevenness. Satisfied, he put his roller down.

"It looks good. Let's go clean these up, and then we will work on the dining room."

Richard helped him carry things out to the garage sink where they could wash the brushes easier.

"Here, let me wash. You sit and take a break now," Richard offered.

Vittorio considered protesting, and then he nodded. This wouldn't be as strenuous on his hands. Despite worrying about that, Vittorio was glad he was able to spend this time with his son.

-------

Richard climbed out of the number six subway stop in the Murray Hill neighborhood around six-thirty. The air was chilly, and several inches of snow still clung to the sidewalks. Dirty piles of white adorned the curbs all around.

Richard walked a few blocks to his piano teacher's building. He pressed the button twice, and rubbed his hands as he waited. After a moment the door buzzed, and soon Richard had ridden the elevator to the third floor and was standing in front of Mr. Schatten's door.

For some reason he felt nervous. He wondered who would be present. Mr. Schatten and his wife, of course, and probably some of the older students he taught. I wonder if William will be here ... Or Arlene... 

He knocked, and Mr. Schatten opened the door. Richard smiled broadly as they embraced.

"Richard! How great to see you!"

"You too, Mr. Schatten."

"Come on, you can call me by my first name now. Now that you're out in the world, playing! Come in, come in!"

His wife Marissa came out from the kitchen, dressed in a flowered apron. She greeted Richard warmly. Richard always found it funny to hug her, since she was under five feet tall. That didn't stop her from being principal cellist of the New York Philharmonic, though.

"Richard, welcome back! Now the party can begin!"

"I'm the last to arrive?" Richard asked.

"Yes, but don't worry, you're on time. Everyone else was early!" Marissa said, a look of exasperation crossing her face.

Richard was not surprised to hear strains of a Puccini opera floating through the apartment. He followed his hosts through the narrow corridors and into the smallish living room that was dominated by the large grand piano. Richard still couldn't believe that it had fit through the tight and awkward angles of the hallway. It had to have been built inside the apartment!

Richard recognized four of the six people seated on chairs and couches from his recital days. He was introduced to the two newer students.

In the doorway leading to the back room he stepped right into Arlene, who was walking out to the living room. She managed to keep her wine in her glass, despite its attempt to jump down her cleavage.

"Richard!" she exclaimed, staring at him.

"Hi, Arlene," he said, smiling despite his nervousness. She looks older ... Prettier, even.

"No one knew if you were going to make it down, with the snow and all," she said, smiling openly at him.

"I took the subway instead of driving."

"Oh, just like old times," she said warmly.

Richard felt slightly uncomfortable at her physical closeness and unfamiliar forwardness.

"I should say hi to William," he said, indicating towards the next room.

"Of course," Arlene agreed, and she stepped aside slightly to let him by.

"It's good to see you," Richard said awkwardly.

"You too."

Richard thought she looked taller and thinner. He glanced down as he squeezed by her, and noticed slimmer legs standing on tall heels. Her dress was not designed to hide very much,  he thought. How strange... 

Leaving her behind, he entered the music room, where shelves of LPs covered three walls from floor to ceiling. On the fourth wall, a pair of windows that opened to Thirty-third Street framed some artwork. A stereo took up one corner, and was playing Turandot.

He smiled and greeted William with a hug. William was a man in his mid-sixties who never quite had the physical technique to play the piano at anything more than a solid amateur level. Richard had always liked his musicality, however, and he was laid back and fun to talk to. He also had an enormous knowledge of music in general, and his music collection dwarfed the one they were sitting amidst at that moment.

A few other familiar faces in the room greeted him. He felt slightly like a celebrity, since everyone asked about his lessons with Mrs. Tertychnaya. He replied in vague terms. Mr. Schatten placed a full glass of red wine in his hand during one exchange.

Until dinner, he remained in the back room talking with William. He felt most comfortable starting the evening chatting with him. Despite the fact that they had only really spent time together at Mr. Schatten's parties, the student recitals, and a few gatherings at William's house, Richard always felt a kinship with the man. There was a mutual admiration that was never explicitly stated, but clear from the first time they talked in depth.

William had not done much of interest in the last four months, so Richard found himself talking the most, telling him all about his lessons and theory classes. William was pleased to hear of his plans for a recital, and Richard told him the proposed program.

"I actually know that Britten piece pretty well," William said. "I once heard Britten himself playing it with Peter Pears singing it. The man had a voice, I tell you!"

"That's really cool! The piece is interesting. It's hard to play the string parts on the piano, though," Richard said.

"Yes, I could see that. And you have a soprano singing it?"

"Yeah. It's pretty strange, I guess!" Richard admitted.

William smiled and shrugged. "Why that piece, might I ask?"

"I'm good friends with the horn player and the singer, and we wanted to play something together on the recital to close it out."

"Ah. Not too many pieces for horn, piano and voice."

Richard laughed. "No, you got that right. We had to fudge a little to even get the Serenade to fit."

"You should have picked friends who played different instruments," William joked.

"Yeah, that would have made things a lot easier," Richard answered. "From now on, I'm screening all my friends based on potential repertoire."

William laughed heartily. "It's good to see you, Richard. Will you play for us later?"

Richard shrugged. "I guess, if other people are playing. I'm not putting on a concert, though."

"You know we all always end up playing something," William said knowingly. "Not very well, though, since no one sits at the piano until..." William held up his almost empty wine glass and raised an amused brow.

"Yeah, I suppose that not much has changed in six months."

Richard looked at his glass.

"We should refill before we get dinner," he suggested.

They adjourned to the kitchen where the guests stood talking as they waited to serve themselves pasta and salad. Several times Richard found Arlene looking at him, and he felt a strange tingle. Something's different about her,  he knew, unsure what he thought about that fact.

Richard spent dinner continuing his conversation with William about things musical.

"I'm glad to hear you are tackling the Etudes," William said.

"Well, some of them," Richard emphasized. "I'm not ready for the whole set."

"Perhaps. But you need to start somewhere. Many pianists have revisited the Etudes several times throughout their careers. Deep pieces, they are, for being so short. It's a shame your teacher never recorded them. She could have made a masterful recording of them. It's like they were written for her."

"I know. But..." Richard hesitated. If he went on, he knew what would have to follow.

But I've learned a lot from William...  Richard thought it a good way to repay his friend.

"I found an old live recording of my teacher playing them in concert. Pretty amazing performance."

"A lost Tertychnaya recording of the Etudes? Are you fooling with me?" William said, perking up noticeably.

"Not lost. Just sitting on an archive shelf at the conservatory. A faculty recital from about fifteen years ago."

"What a treasure!" William burst out.

Richard could see the excitement in his eyes. He knew William was extremely fond of Irina's playing in general. William had admitted his jealousy when Richard had told him who he would be studying with at Wexford.

Richard leaned over conspiratorially. "If you promise to never let anyone else know where you got it from, I'll make you a copy," he said.

William sat back, and his eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Really? Can you do that?"

"Sure, it's no problem at all."

"Wow! Nary four months at the place and you already have godlike powers!"

"Oh no, nothing like that. I just work for the audio service, so I have access to the tapes, and the machines to copy them. It would be no problem. I already have a copy for myself."

William nodded vigorously and smiled like a little boy.

"At some point tonight, let me have your address, and I'll get it to you next month when I go back to school," Richard said, a warm feeling rushing through him at seeing William so pleased.

"It's going to be a long month of sleepless nights," William moaned. Then he straightened. "What other tapes are there?" he asked quietly.

Richard laughed. "Greedy, greedy!"

William relaxed and laughed with him. "I know, I know. I don't want to get you in trouble. But ... If you see anything else by her, or by Frank Walstone, I swear I'll put you in my will if you copy it for me."

Richard grinned. "All right. Just leave me something other than the bootleg recordings of my teacher when you die."

"Deal," William said, offering his hand.

Richard shook it, grinning.

"You'd think we were trading spy information," Richard said.

"In my world, this is just as good," William answered.

-------

The party had been wilder than usual, for a Schatten affair. Richard had just finished a somewhat serious performance of his usual Liszt piece for the others, when Arlene slid onto the piano bench, to his right.

"Hello," she said simply. Richard could see the wine making her eyes dance. He assumed she saw the same in his.

"Time for more Liszt," she said, placing a music book on the piano.

Richard laughed when he saw what she opened it to. "Just like old times," he said, echoing her earlier comment.

At the first party they had both attended, they had played a four-hand version of the most famous Hungarian Rhapsody. It had been nearly disastrous, but it gave everyone a good laugh, including Richard and Arlene.

"Except you're on the left tonight," she said.

"Oh! So that's how it is!" Richard answered.

"I've learned some things at Juilliard," she said confidently.

Richard suddenly looked around, realizing the room had quieted. Everyone was watching them with a mix of expectancy and amusement. He was glad everyone else had drunk their share of wine, and generally seemed to be happy.

This time, the piece started much better than that first time. Richard, delegated to the easier Secundo part, grinned as he watched Arlene play her part with authority. Her playing has changed, that's for sure.

Richard knew that it was completely unfair to judge her on this piece, in this situation, and in his state of inebriation, but he quickly found himself missing her old touch on the keys. The phrasing and smoothness of her playing seemed to have been replaced by a bolder technique.

The piano filled the room as they plowed through the piece. Occasionally, Arlene took huge liberties with her tempo, and the audience laughed as Richard hung on to his notes, trying to follow her through the exaggerated changes.

More flair,  Richard noted.

Suddenly, Arlene smiled at him mischievously. She then reached over and started playing Richard's right hand part, displacing his hand. Reacting quickly, he threw his right arm under her left, and took over her missing part, trying desperately to read the music from two pages now.

Then Arlene slipped a bare leg over his knee, and started sliding over to sit on his lap. The students whooped and whistled as the two of them exchanged hands one by one as she moved across him. Those standing by the end of the piano crowded towards the keyboard to watch, as they realized what was happening.

Richard swore he felt her wiggle her bottom against him when she was squarely on top of him. Before he could be sure, though, she continued sliding to his left.

A lot more flirt,  Richard added to the mental list.

With an understandable number of mistakes in the playing, Arlene finally was seated on the bench again to Richard's left, and playing the Secundo. They had kept it together, though, and the moment matched a climactic return of the theme. Richard hammered it out as the onlookers went crazy with cheers and hoots. The piano threatened to overwhelm the room with sound.

The piece ended soon after, and the applause was loud and lengthy. Mr. Schatten grinned broadly, proud of his two ex-students, and amused at the trick. William was clapping and laughing richly from the couch where he had a clear view of the switch, particularly of the part happening under the keyboard.

Richard found himself staring down at Arlene's lap, where her black dress was almost completely shirking its duty of providing coverage. It was still partially draped over his trousers from the exchange of positions. He laughed to himself as he realized it covered more of his legs than hers.

Arlene caught him looking, smiled, and with one hand moved her dress ever so slightly lower on her naked thighs. It was absolutely an acknowledgement of his gaze, and in no way a show of modesty, Richard realized. He tore his eyes away and smiled at everyone as they continued to clap.

Arlene kissed him on the cheek, and then hopped up off the bench.

"Nice," she whispered in his ear, as the clapping gave way to laughter and talking again. She dispersed into the room.

"All right, who's next?" Mr. Schatten announced loudly, and everyone laughed, knowing that little would top that performance.

Richard stood up, his heart still pounding from the unique technique. The event had been undeniably arousing, but he still felt strange about how Arlene was acting. It was not the Arlene he had dated a year ago.

Despite the fact that many of the partiers congratulated him on the fun performance, he dismissed them quickly with vague thanks and managed to plop down on the couch next to William.

"You need more wine," William said immediately. He stood and offered a hand to Richard.

Richard followed him wearily into the kitchen, where William filled two cups he found in the cupboard. Richard had lost track of his glass among the seemingly dozens that now adorned most of the flat surfaces in the apartment.

William turned down the twisty hallway, had them grab their coats on the way, and then they emerged on a small balcony overlooking the street. A cab passed slowly, and then everything was quiet, for Manhattan at least.

"Cheers," William said, clinking Richard's cup against his.

"Cheers."

"That was interesting," he said, pulling out a cigar and lighting it.

"Yeah. Not rehearsed, I can tell you that much."

"You want one?" he asked, indicating the cigar. "I know you never have, but maybe you've picked up some good habits at school."

"No, thanks," Richard said.

"All right, suit yourself."

William puffed his cigar to life, and then turned to Richard, his cheeks rosy. "Been in touch with her lately?" he asked.

Richard shook his head. "Nah. We broke up long ago, you know," he said.

"I know. She's come to a few other parties in the last few months. She asks about you a lot."

"Really."

"She's changed," William said simply.

"Yeah, I noticed."

"Her playing has suffered, if you ask me. But that's what you get, when you pick a bad teacher."

"I guess."

"She chose a technician in Smith," William explained. "He was always an aberration at Juilliard. No feeling, no taste."

"She does seem to be playing stronger, but..."

"Yes, and it doesn't suit her at all," William said sadly. "I always felt she had exceptional touch on the keys. I'll be frank, Richard: she was better than you, when it came to phrasing and playing with singing tone."

"I agree," Richard said candidly. "I admired her playing for that reason too."

"Indeed. You know, it's interesting. You seem to have moved towards each other in your styles. I could tell from the Liszt — your solo Liszt, not the comedy act — that you have really benefitted a great deal from Tertychnaya's influence."

"That was a poor demonstration of what I've learned," Richard protested. "I've had my share of wine tonight."

"As have I," William said with a chuckle. "So we were both on the same playing field! But I could hear it. You've grown some subtlety, Richard, and it's wearing well."

"Thanks."

"Arlene has gone the other way, though. She's gained some technique, I'll admit, but it's cost her."

"She didn't play anything tonight to really show what she's learned. The comedy act was just that. Silly."

"I know you want to defend her," William acknowledged. "But you could tell, right?"

Richard shrugged, and then nodded. "All right, it crossed my mind," he admitted.

"She's played seriously at the other parties, and earlier in the night, before wine could be used as an excuse. It's gone downhill, I'm sad to say."

"That's too bad," Richard said honestly.

"Yes, it is. Come to think of it, she never drank more than a glass of wine at the other parties. Tonight, well..."

"I haven't been keeping track," Richard said.

"You don't really need to."

They stared out at the city for a while.

"What will you do?" William asked suddenly, with an amused tone in his voice.

"Huh?"

"She'll be looking for you before the night is over."

"Um ... What do you mean?"

"I saw at least as much as you did, of what was happening on that piano bench," William said, laughing a little. "Gave this old man a nice show, she did. But I won't complain. Now instead of thinking of Loony Tunes every time I hear that piece, I'll have a different bunny to picture."

"Oh, come on, William, grow up!" Richard said, rolling his eyes. "It was just a fun musical prank."

William laughed in earnest now. "All in the name of music, heh heh! They'll beat the altruism out of you yet. Have you found anyone at Wexford?"

Richard paused. For some reason, William was suddenly on his very short list of people whom he could trust with the truth of his relationship. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Of course," William said expectantly, grinning broadly as he puffed a smoke ring into the cold air.

"Two."

"Two what?" William asked, confused.

"I found two 'anyones'."

"Oh ... Naughty boy! That will get you into trouble quite fast, I'm afraid. Are they musicians?"

"Both in my class," Richard said.

William whistled and grinned, and checked his watch dramatically. "Then it's only a matter of hours now, before one will find out about the other one, and you'll have neither. The music world is tiny when it comes to matters of ... well, let's say, the heart. To be polite."

Richard paused for effect. "We're playing the Serenade together," he said simply.

William puffed on his cigar and looked at Richard with narrowed eyes. "Are you, now?"

Richard nodded, keeping his face straight.

William considered him for a long time, before speaking. "Interesting. I'd not have guessed. You fooled me," he said thoughtfully. "How goes it, then?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"So far, so good," Richard said.

"Ah, now he's clammed up!" William said, chuckling as he waved his cigar in the air.

Richard finally let out the laugh he'd been storing up. "What's to tell?" he asked innocently.

"Oh, what's to tell indeed! But I'll not pry. It's not the business of an old bachelor to interfere. Interesting as it sounds..."

"It's been a great first semester. Very interesting," Richard offered.

William leaned in. "And your horn player: he, or she?"

Richard looked at him for a moment, before realizing the answer wasn't necessarily obvious. "Emily and Sandra. They're great. Roommates. Makes things easier. Excellent musicians," Richard added.

"I'm sure it does," William said distantly.

He suddenly turned and looked into the apartment, and then got close to Richard's ear.

"What's one more, then?" he whispered cryptically, and then grinned impishly as he snuffed out his cigar in a plant and went back into the apartment.

Before Richard could follow, a shimmery black dress emerged onto the balcony.

"I thought you had left."

"No, just chatting with William. It's been a while," Richard said, suddenly feeling awkward at the unfavorable balance of time William had received for the evening.

"It has been a while," she agreed.

Richard waited, and the expected question came after some moments of silence.

"Why are you avoiding me?" she asked.

Richard mulled a thousand answers in his head, but couldn't settle on anything to say aloud.

"I wasn't trying to," he evaded.

"Richard, come on. You blew me off when you got here, and then disappeared after we played."

"William dragged me out here," he said. Definitely not the Arlene I dated,  he thought.

"And chained you to the chair during dinner, too," she retorted, laughing a little. "Don't be afraid of me," she said softly. "I don't bite."

Richard looked at her face for the first time since she came out to the balcony.

"I'm not afraid of you," he said at last.

"Then what is it?" she asked.

Richard paused. "I'm just not sure what to make of you."

"Why?"

"You seem different."

Arlene laughed. "I am. So are you. You look really good."

Richard ignored the compliment, wanting to avoid talk of the physical. Otherwise he would have to admit she looked really good as well, and he found that to be a dangerous avenue at the moment. That can only lead to problems... 

"How's Juilliard?" he asked.

"Great. Mr. Smith is amazing. He's taught me so much these last four months. Way more than I learned with Mr. Schatten in two years," she added in a whisper.

Richard nodded vaguely, feeling sad at hearing her words. "That's good. You played the Rhapsody really strongly," Richard added, giving her the best compliment he could without lying.

"Thanks. You weren't bad yourself. Sorry for that little detour towards the end," she said, grinning.

"Yeah, that was different."

"You were right on it. I knew you could handle it," she said, patting his chest a few times too many.

"Seemed like everyone loved it. Even William thought it was fun."

"Of course he would. He could see right up my dress the whole time."

Richard fought off choking on the wine he was sipping, and recovered. He waved a hand in the air and started to speak, but had no idea what to say. "I could too?" No, not a good answer... 

"Aren't you freezing?"

"Not at all. Have you thought about me much, while you were out at Wexford?" Arlene asked.

Richard noticed she had moved closer to him. He turned to her and took a step back, and then found he was cornered between some plants on the side of the balcony.

"Um, a little," he said, feeling suddenly claustrophobic and slightly dizzy.

"Just a little?" she asked, and then reached her arms around him and pulled his head towards hers. Richard turned his head just in time to avoid her tongue, which instead wet his cheek. For a moment, she pushed on, but then Richard managed to break free from her.

"Arlene!" he cried out. "What the fuck are you doing?"

She stared at him for a moment, and then she whirled away from him, her hand to her mouth.

"What was that?" he asked, more softly now.

Arlene remained silent and motionless.

Richard regained some composure and took a step towards her. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to yell. You just surprised me. Are you okay?"

Arlene turned slowly, and looked at Richard. Her eyes were watery.

"I'm sorry too."

Richard sighed. "What was that about?"

Arlene turned her eyes back to the street and stared off for some time. "I got desperate. You weren't even aware I still existed, all night," she said.

"I'm sorry," Richard said honestly. "I felt a little nervous when I first saw you."

"Why?" Arlene asked quietly.

"I don't know. Like I said, you're different. The heels, and this dress, and the straight hair..."

"You don't like them?"

"No, you look beautiful," Richard said. "Really. But, what else has changed? It's been a while, and you know how weird things were when they faded away."

"Yeah. I sure messed things up."

Richard took his coat off and put it around her shoulders. "No, Arlene. We were both ... younger, inexperienced. It just wasn't the right time."

Arlene turned to him. "What about now?"

Richard smiled sadly. "Now?"

"I've grown, Richard. I'm not stupid like I was. I've learned some things at Juilliard, and not just about playing the piano. I'm not the prim and proper Arlene you had to put up with last year."

"No, I can see that," Richard said, putting his guard back up some.

"So it's a good change?" Arlene pressed. "You like my dress? I picked it out, thinking of you."

"Me?" He felt himself backing up into the corner again.

Arlene shrugged Richard's coat off and hung it over the balcony rail.

"The shoes, too," she added. She grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it up slightly, as if that were also necessary to see the shoes.

"Arlene," Richard said, trying to put some warning in his voice.

"I've been thinking of you all week, Richard. And when you walked in ... Oh god!" Her voice touched on being orgasmic, and Richard took his last step back. The plants enveloped him again.

"You look really good, too," she breathed. "And you play so well; that Liszt was amazing. I got chills. You've changed, too."

"Arlene," Richard said, his mouth cottony dry. Richard suddenly noticed her slurred words and wobbly stance, and wondered how best to escape without making a scene. For a moment, he gauged the distance down to the street.

"I know you feel it, Richard," Arlene went on. "I know, because I felt you during the Rhapsody. And you couldn't help yourself..."

"I'm..." Richard began.

Arlene put a finger to his lips. "Just let go. Let's do things like we should have done."

She looked into his eyes as she stepped back a few paces.

"I'm ready now," she whispered. "Are you?"

The dress moved further up this time, and Richard almost choked when he noticed the lack of undergarments. William really wasn't kidding,  a voice commented in the back of his head, despite the absurdity of the situation.

"All I have to do is turn around." She followed her own advice, and Richard stared at her bare bottom for a moment, before yanking her dress down.

"You're drunk, or crazy! I'm not doing this. I'm seeing someone back at school, first of all."

Arlene lowered her dress and turned around, but faced Richard with no less determination than before.

"So?" she said. "So what. So am I. But right now..." She looked into his eyes unsteadily. "Right now, I really want you."

Richard threw his arms into the air, banging his hand into a vine. A few blobs of snow fell down onto him, and he swatted at them. "Fuck! This is ridiculous! I hardly recognize you, Arlene!"

Arlene giggled at the snow, oblivious to his frustrated tone. She danced around on the balcony. "But you said you liked the change. The dress, the..."

"You've changed in other ways," Richard interrupted, "and I'm not so sure about those."

Arlene stopped, and stared at him. "Like what?"

Richard groaned in frustration. Then he saw an opening, a way to distract the situation from the physical.

"Your playing has changed."

Richard knew the moment he said it, that he had hit home. Arlene's body language instantly closed up.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Now I need to be careful, or I really will end up on the sidewalk,  Richard thought.

"Your playing, it's less ... lyrical than it used to be."

"And you say this based on what, exactly? From the Rhapsody?" Arlene asked incredulously.

"A little. And also ... I don't know, William and I were talking out here. He thinks so too."

Arlene laughed madly. "Oh, William? Willy the Wannabe ... The old man doesn't like my playing, then? What does he know?"

"A lot, I think. I respect —"

"Respect him? The same guy who chose the best seat tonight to watch me..." She glanced around the balcony wildly. "To watch me make a fool of myself!" she cried out, her voice suddenly bursting apart with uncontrolled emotion.

"Hey, you put the show on," Richard retorted, regretting his words immediately.

"It was for you!" Arlene screamed out.

Richard took a deep breath as Arlene started to cry.

"Look, I'm sorry that —"

"You're just jealous!" Arlene snapped.

"Jealous?" Richard said.

"Of how much I've learned. You feel threatened! You always said I had the touch. Now that I'm learning the technique, too, you are worried!"

"Worried? About what? Arlene, come on! This is ridiculous. Just calm down."

"I'm not going to calm down! You and William have fun talking all about me and my playing. I'm leaving. Fucking stupid party! I don't even know why I came."

Before Richard could say anything, Arlene had disappeared, slamming the door to the balcony behind her. Richard hesitated for a moment, stunned, and then he rushed to the door. He had to chase her down before the emotions spilled out into the party, but he quickly found that the door was locked.

"Fuck!" he cried, spinning around on the balcony in anger. He knocked on the door, but no one answered it.

His thoughts swirled for a while, as he wondered what had just happened.

She's insane,  he thought. Juilliard has driven her mad... 

He heard a door open and close, down on the street level, and he leaned over the railing. He saw Arlene start to walk down the sidewalk, her car keys jingling loudly.

"Arlene!" he called out, suddenly in a panic.

She didn't respond.

"I'm sorry! Please wait! I have something to tell you. It's important!"

He saw the momentary catch in her gait, so he pressed on. "Can you just wait for me? Please? Just come back to the building and wait? I have something to tell you."

Arlene was probably on the edge of earshot, for the volume Richard risked yelling at.

"Arlene, please?" he tried one last time.

At last, she did slow and then stop. For perhaps thirty seconds, she stood there, and then turned around and started to walk back slowly.

Richard let go of his held breath, relief flooding him.

"Just wait," he called out, more calmly now. "I'll be right down, once someone lets me in. I'm locked out. Wait, please!"

Now he had to figure out what to tell her.

He thought he'd have a few minutes to think about it, being locked on the balcony, but when he turned around to knock, the door was already open to the apartment.

"Classic New York balcony scene, Richard. Nice." William's quiet voice came from the dark hallway.

Richard felt some of the tension defuse within him at the witty observation and William's good-natured voice.

"She's crazy," Richard announced, as he entered the apartment again and leaned against the wall to clear his head.

"You don't have to go after her," he offered.

"I know. And if she wasn't so wasted off her ass, I probably wouldn't. But she can't drive home like that."

"I agree. None of us saw her leave in time. Then I came to see what you were doing out here, unlocked the door, and heard that last bit of your soliloquy," William said. "Ah, young love..."

"All right, quit it with the love shit. I have to figure out what to say down there. I promised her something important, just to stop her."

"What went wrong?" William asked.

"She tried to seduce me on the balcony."

"God damn it! How come that never happens to me?" William bemoaned.

"Hey, I'll send her up as soon as I'm done."

"Oh, excellent! Hope she doesn't mind cigar smoke."

"Anyway, after I put her dress back on, I told her what we thought about her new playing style."

"We?" William asked.

"I sort of, uh, used you to soften the blow," Richard said, wincing.

"Thanks. Er ... On second thought ... Don't send her up to seduce me. I don't want to end up as a splat on the concrete."

Richard sniffed. "Funny, I was just wishing for that very fate a few minutes ago."

"Eloquently put, Richard," William said with a laugh.

"I need some of that eloquence downstairs, not up here," Richard said.

"Tell her what you like about her," William said, his voice suddenly serious.

Richard laughed. "Her dress? I don't think so."

"No, Richard, about her playing. Remind her who she used to be."

Richard stared at William in the darkness, for a long moment. Words began to formulate in his head.

"You're right. Thanks," Richard said.

"If you don't come back up, have a good semester," William said, embracing Richard. He pulled a coat of the hangers. "Here. It's Arlene's."

"Thanks. It was really good to see you, despite the drama," Richard said, waving a hand towards the street. "Say goodnight to Mr. Schatten and Marissa for me? I'm going to grab my coat and slip out the door, before Arlene changes her mind about waiting."

"Of course. They're pretty wasted themselves; they'll understand. Or, they'll forget."

Richard chuckled. "Oh crap. I never got your address," he said suddenly.

"I'll get it to you," William said confidently. "Believe me, I'll get it to you."

-------

Richard paused as he gripped the handle to the exterior door of the building. He wondered which Arlene would greet him beyond, if any.

Bracing himself, he pulled the door open.

Arlene was sitting on the bottom step, huddled up and leaning against the railing.

Richard rushed down to her, and covered her with her coat. She was shivering and crying quietly.

The step was all wet from the snow, and Arlene was sitting in a puddle.

"Is your car close?" he asked gently.

Arlene just nodded.

"Come on, before we die of cold," he said, helping her up.

Richard supported her as she walked unsteadily down the sidewalk.

Drunk, cold, rejected...  Richard felt bad for her miserable state.

He recognized her car as they approached. "Keys?"

Soon he had the car running and the heat on full. Arlene was curled up in the passenger seat, covered by her coat.

Richard reviewed the words he had come up with in his head, but he couldn't find a good opening.

Then Arlene spoke.

"I hate my teacher," she mumbled.

Richard looked at her, unsure if he had heard right.

"What?"

"My teacher at Juilliard. He's fucked me up. You were right." Her voice came laden with depression.

Richard sighed heavily, suddenly feeling his stomach tighten up. He wondered how much his earlier critique had hurt her.

"Why?"

Arlene shifted in her seat uncomfortably. She spoke slowly and sadly. "I thought he'd be the perfect match for me. You know how I always had trouble playing the hard stuff."

Richard remained silent.

"Well, I was wrong," she said. "He's messed me up instead."

"You've only been there for four months," Richard said cautiously. "Things can take some time to settle down. It took me most of the semester to figure out how to work with Mrs. T., you know. There was a point where I was pretty sure she was going to give me the boot."

Arlene remained distant. "My arm is hurting."

"What?"

"My right forearm, when I play. I must be tensing up."

"Since when?"

"It's started about a month ago."

"Hmm. Have you told your teacher? I mean, sometimes my arm gets tired after I play for a long time, but ... Are you sure it's not just over practicing?"

"No, this is different," Arlene said. "It feels sore all the time, and it's getting worse. I did tell him, and he just said it would go away."

"That sounds weird. If you don't like him, maybe you should switch teachers."

Arlene let out a small sob. "I can't."

"Why? Is there a rule at Juilliard against that? I know at least two people at Wexford who switched after their first semester."

"It's complicated. Oh, Richard, I don't know what to do! Everything is so messed up!"

She began crying in earnest again.

Richard rubbed his eyes and cleared his head for a moment.

"Just talk to the dean about switching. Or talk to your teacher about your arm, at least. But it sounds like he doesn't give a shit."

"No, it's not that."

"Why is he letting you hurt, then?"

"I don't know. Maybe he's right. It will just go away, once I get used to playing this way."

Richard took a deep breath and considered her for a moment. "Arlene, something's wrong here. I can tell."

"I'm so lonely, Richard. I should have lived at the dorm, but to save money I'm living at home. I hardly know anyone at the school."

Richard felt suddenly very sad. His first semester experience had been rather opposite from hers, it sounded like.

"I'm sorry to hear that. And I'm sorry for what I said earlier about your playing. I wasn't trying to be mean, but it probably sounded that way."

"You were right, though."

"Arlene, back when we played at Mr. Schatten's recitals together, I remember you playing beautifully."

"They were all easy pieces," she said, dejectedly. "I could never play like you could."

"You don't get into Juilliard playing easy pieces. I know you might not want to hear this, but William always thought you were better than me at making a melody sing."

She was silent.

"He said he's heard you play a few times lately," Richard continued, "and he misses that in your playing now. That's all. I haven't really heard you play besides the Rhapsody tonight, but even there, I felt the same way. We weren't ragging on you, but we were a little sad."

"I know," she said quietly. "I'm just at the end of my rope, and I couldn't take hearing that. Not from you."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you were having arm trouble. You have a really nice touch, Arlene, and that's what you should take advantage of. This physical style you are trying to fit into, I don't know ... It doesn't really seem to be you."

Arlene started crying again.

"It's not your fault," Richard said, stroking her hair. "William says Mr. Smith is a terrible teacher."

Arlene continued crying even harder. Richard still had an uneasy feeling. Shouldn't she be calming down a little?

"What's wrong?"

Arlene shook her head.

"You can talk to me," Richard urged. "Sounds like you need to talk."

Arlene pushed the coat off of her body, and he realized he was sweating. The windows were all fogged up.

"Whoa, I didn't realize how hot it is in here," he said, turning the heater down to low. He took his coat off after a struggle.

Arlene seemed not to hear him, although she regained some composure. Her face was streaked with moisture, and she looked miserable.

"Talk to me," he said gently.

Richard waited for a long time.

"I'm sleeping with him."

Richard stared at her for a moment, and then closed his eyes, letting his head sag forward.

"You must think I'm an idiot," she whispered.

Richard didn't know what to say. This was territory in which he had no experience.

"God, Arlene, that's, uh..."

"Messed up," she said with finality.

"Yeah," Richard agreed. "Damn."

"I'm so screwed, Richard. I don't know what to do!"

Richard cracked a window, suddenly feeling like he was suffocating.

"I don't know what to tell you," he said. He felt like crying, too.

"If I try to switch teachers, he'll flip out," Arlene said, suddenly getting up in her seat. She knelt over and looked at Richard with stricken eyes. "He'll have me kicked out. How would that look? And if I stay, I'm ruined! I hate playing the piano now. I hate feeling like this!"

"Drop out —"

"I can't leave! This has been my dream, Richard! You know that. You've always known that..."

"I know," Richard said, taking her hand. "I was going to say, drop out and take a break. Switch schools, even. Come out to Wexford."

"But Juilliard..."

"I know how much you wanted to be there. And yet ... This doesn't sound like a dream, to me."

"It's a fucking nightmare," Arlene agreed, as she withered in her seat. She seemed to convulse as she cried.

Richard looked at her helplessly for a moment, and then grabbed his coat and stuffed it in the area between their seats.

"Lie down, Arlene. Just lie down for a while."

He pulled on her, and finally got her to stretch out over his coat and put her head down on his lap.

He spent some time stroking her head, trying to calm her down. He felt like he was in a trance, as he just ran his fingers along her black hair, over and over again.

After a long time, Arlene finally regained some control of her body. Then her sobbing slowed and stopped, and all that remained of the meltdown were occasional sniffs. She almost seemed asleep.

Her dress was little more than a shirt, having been twisted and pulled up by her movements. Richard was glad it was dark and the windows remained fogged up. Anyone walking by would probably have called the cops, if they could see inside.

He flipped the sleeve of his coat over her exposed middle.

"Are you cold? Warm?" he asked, as she opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"Wet," Arlene said meekly. "Why am I wet?"

"You were sitting in a puddle when I came outside."

"Oh ... I have some clothes in the back seat."

"You should change, then. You can be more comfortable that way."

I'll be more comfortable that way, too,  Richard thought.

"I'll wait outside." Richard opened his door.

"Don't go," Arlene said.

"I'll just be outside."

"Please, just stay. I don't want to be alone."

Richard eyed her for a moment. She can't possibly be going back to her earlier mood,  he said.

He closed the door.

Arlene sat up, and cleared her eyes with her fingers for a moment. She looked down, noticing her nudity.

"I'm sorry, Richard," she said, her back towards him. "You must think I'm a slut. A complete bitch."

"No, I don't think that."

"I've missed you. A lot."

Richard sighed. "Nothing can happen between us, Arlene. Not now."

"I know, don't worry. Otherwise it already would have," she said dryly. "I recognize rejection when I see it."

"It's not because I don't..."

"You don't have to explain yourself," Arlene said, when Richard trailed off.

"No, I do. I don't want you to think I'm not interested because of you."

Arlene turned to him, her eyes shiny.

"I'm involved ... in a relationship at Wexford. It's, well, amazing. If I wasn't, then maybe things would be different. I meant what I said earlier. You look grown up, and really attractive."

Arlene laughed uneasily. "Oh, whatever. I look a mess right now. But that was a sweet thing to say."

"Well, you do look a little less put together right now," Richard said, laughing a little himself. "But, at the party anyway, I meant it."

Arlene turned back to face the side window. Richard watched her shoulders rise and fall gently.

"Who's the lucky girl?"

Richard paused. Arlene was not on his short list. Not yet, anyway.

"She's ... a horn player," he said.

Arlene was quiet for a while, lost in thought.

"I'm going to change clothes," she said.

Richard wiped away a little circle of condensation from the driver's side window, and turned his head to look out at the street.

Arlene sighed. "After all that I just put you through, you're still a gentleman to me," she said.

Richard felt her hand caress his shoulder, and then he heard the rustling of clothing as Arlene dressed next to him.

"Okay," she said.

Richard turned to face her. Her tiny black dress had morphed into a long flowery dress with black tights and a turtleneck underneath.

Richard smiled. "Hmm, I think I see my old friend," he said.

Arlene smiled back emotionally.

"I really do like your hair like that," he added.

Arlene leaned over and hugged him tightly. For a long time, Richard just held her quietly. He felt better now, but also realized Arlene had some serious issues to deal with in her life, and he had not really done much to help. He had really only fended off an advance and then stayed to pick up the pieces. She still had a massive problem to confront at her school.

"What now?" she asked, as she sat back in her seat, cleared her eyes, and looked at Richard.

"I don't know. I sure can't drive right now." He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the emotional exhaustion, but he felt like passing out.

"No, neither should I," Arlene agreed.

"Are your parents expecting you?"

"No. I told them I'd probably be staying here. I didn't think it would be like this."

Richard smiled sadly, knowing what she meant.

"Let's just rest here until our heads clear up."

"I have some blankets in the back," Arlene said, reaching to grab them.

Richard turned off the engine and locked the car. He covered himself with a blanket, and then reclined the seat. Arlene did the same.

"Let me know if you get cold and we'll fire up the engine," Richard said.

Arlene smiled and nodded.

"Thanks," she said. "I guess what I really needed tonight was a friend."

Richard smiled back.

Soon they both fell asleep...

-------

"Hello?"

"You don't know how much I miss you," Richard said emotionally.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Who is this?"

Richard looked at the phone, and winced. "Um, is this Sandra?"

"No, this is her mother."

"Oh ... Sorry. Is she there?"

"Is this Richard?"

He thought her voice suddenly sounded quite amused.

"Yes. Sorry, I thought —"

"It's all right," she interrupted. "People get us confused on the phone all the time."

"Clearly," Richard said, still flustered from the mistake.

"Let me find her. Nice to meet you, Richard," she said cheerily. "Sandrine?"

Richard shook his head.

"Hello?"

"You might have some explaining to do, after you hang up," Richard said apologetically.

"Huh?"

"I thought you answered the phone, and I blurted something out."

"What did you say?"

"'You don't know how much I miss you, ' I think it was."

Sandra laughed. "Could have been worse. I think that will pass by innocently. She knows we're very close friends."

"I kind of said it more like a lover," Richard said, wincing at the memory.

Sandra laughed. "I'm sure it will be fine. Don't worry."

Richard breathed a sigh of relief. "Good thing I didn't start out by reading my love letter out loud."

"What love letter?"

"Kidding."

"Oh. That was a tease ... Hey, let me call you right back in five minutes, okay?"

"I'll be here."

A few minutes later, the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"I'm back," Sandra said.

"So what's up?"

"Just switched to the phone in my room. I have someone here that wants to say hi to you."

"Who?"

"Me," came the other voice.

Richard recognized it instantly, but knew it was impossible.

"What the hell?"

"That's the greeting I get?" Emily said. "A 'What the hell?'"

"How is... ? What are you doing there?" Richard blurted out.

"We really missed each other, so I drove out."

Richard was speechless.

"I think I hear him drooling," Sandra said, and then they both giggled.

"If he knew what we were just doing, he definitely would be," Emily added.

"What the hell?" Richard repeated, seemingly having been reduced to forming phrases from a ten word vocabulary.

"You already asked that," Emily said.

"I want to be there!" he said, in desperation.

The girls laughed.

"Aw, how sweet!" Emily said. "He misses us."

"He misses my mom, too," Sandra said. "Told her so a few minutes ago."

"I can't believe it. You are messing with me," Richard said.

"Nope, no messing around here. Well, not with you, unfortunately."

Emily made some suggestive sounds.

"Oh, Emily, don't stop!" Sandra managed, before she started laughing too hard to continue.

"Okay, okay," Emily said, when she regained her composure. "My dad has three way calling in his office."

"I knew it!"

"No you didn't. You were really desperate, for a second there."

"Well, do you blame me?" Richard said.

"No," the girls admitted.

"This is cool," Sandra said. "Good find, Em."

"Yeah. So. How was your party, Richard?"

Richard groaned. "Oh, do I ever miss you both so much," he said.

"Sounds like there's a story in there," Emily said.

"You can say that."

"Tell us, with all the gory details. Are we going to be mad at you?" Emily asked.

"Um, I hope not."

"Uh oh," Sandra said. "This sounds like it's going to be another good one."

"Well, it's not much worse than the night with Viktoriya," Richard said.

"Ooh, but it is a little worse?" Emily asked mischievously.

"As long as you didn't sleep with anyone, I guess we'll stay calm," Sandra said.

"Um..."

Richard spent some time giving them the background on Arlene, and then recounting the events of the previous evening.

"Were you hard when she sat on your lap?" Emily asked, when he described Arlene's Rhapsody trick.

"I was way too busy trying to figure out what parts to play," Richard said theatrically.

"Right," Emily said, sniggering.

"It's true!"

"So was she trying to get back with you, or something?" Sandra asked.

"Oh, wait, just wait. So I was just chilling with William on the balcony, when he just up and leaves and Arlene comes out. And she tries to kiss me!"

"Just like that? She walks out and attacks you?"

"Basically. I don't really remember what we said before, but next thing I know, she's sticking her tongue in my face."

"I'd say your answer is yes, Sandra," Emily said.

"I managed to fend her off," Richard said.

"Was she drunk?"

"Yeah. I guess I was a little bit, too. But she was also acting crazy ... I was actually scared of her."

"Now I'm getting excited," Emily said. "What happened next?"

"I got her to calm down, put my coat around her..."

"Aw, what a gentleman!"

"Well, I was getting cold looking at her. She was in this tiny black dress," Richard said. "There was snow all around. I was freezing, and I was wearing five times the clothing she had on."

"Hey, you never mentioned a tiny black dress, when you said she was on your lap!"

Richard laughed. "No, I guess I didn't. She was also naked underneath."

"Richard!" Emily cried out. "What the hell kind of parties are you going to?"

"Hey, you said you wanted all the details!" Richard retorted. "I can stop at any time, or start leaving things out. I'm just telling it like it is. You asked for it."

The girls were laughing as he spoke. "We're just giving you a hard time," Sandra said.

"It's called heckling," Emily added.

"Do you want us to be quiet?" Sandra asked. "It wouldn't be nearly as fun."

"No, I guess not," Richard said sheepishly. "It's just a little weird."

"What?" Emily asked.

"You two getting off on my..."

"Flirting?" Sandra finished.

"I was not flirting," Richard said.

"We just love hearing about how women throw themselves against you, and you just rebuff them like a stone cliff does the sea, for the love of your two mistresses..."

There was a long moment of silence, and then Sandra and Richard burst out laughing.

"All right, then," Sandra said.

"What?" Emily asked.

"Go on. Go on, Richard,  I should say," Sandra said with a snigger. "How exactly do you know she wasn't wearing anything under her dress?"

"She felt the need to show me."

"What a tramp!" Emily said.

"It was a little over the top," Richard agreed. "She didn't care that I had just told her that I was taken. Said she was with someone too."

"She was just horny," Emily said.

"I can understand that, right now," Sandra said.

"After that, I got desperate and basically told her I didn't like how she was playing the piano anymore."

"Ouch."

"Well, I tried to let her know gently, but she didn't take it too well."

"I guess that stopped the genital show pretty quick," Emily said.

"Yeah, she stormed out of the building."

"Nice!"

"Serves her right," Sandra agreed.

"Yeah, except she was driving," Richard added.

"Oh..."

"The plot thickens," Emily said, and then sang a dramatic theme.

"Richard to the rescue!" Sandra said.

"All right, all right, this is starting to be ridiculous," Richard said. "You two need to settle down."

"Fine," Emily said with a pouty voice.

"I'm so horny right now," Sandra announced.

"Me too," Emily agreed immediately.

"Does your dad's phone have a three way sex option?" Sandra asked.

"I wish..."

"These next few weeks are going to be brutal," Richard said.

"Yeah, whose idea was it to not do anything, uh, manual, until we got back?" Sandra asked.

"Come on, it will be all the better when we do see each other, if we let it build it up," Richard said.

"But ... Oh well, go on. We'll be quieter. I promise," Sandra said.

"Well, I went down and found her outside, luckily. She was sitting on the wet steps, shivering."

"Let me guess: you had to remove her dress to keep her from getting hypothermia?" Emily said.

"Actually, she did end up changing. But, I got the gentleman award again, for not looking," Richard said, laughing.

"You mean you didn't even help her out of her tiny, wet black dress? Where's the gentleman in that?" Emily joked.

"Sorry. Next time I'll try to do better. So, I walked her to her car, and took her keys. We talked for a while. Long story short, it turns out I was right about her playing."

"Huh?"

"She hates her teacher."

"Oh. That's not good."

"And she's sleeping with him, too."

"Ouch! That's fucked up!" Emily exclaimed.

"Yeah. She's in some trouble. I feel really bad for her though. She's not a mean person, in the least. I think she's made a few bad choices, and now she's freaking out."

"I'll say," Emily agreed. "I am sorry, though," she added, her tone softer. "She can't be happy to be in that position."

"Yeah. It was hard to see her like that," Richard said, leaving the theatrics behind as he realized he was talking about someone he cared about.

"What happened after that?"

"That's it. We smoothed things over, between us, anyway, and then snoozed in her car while we sobered up. Around six I came to, and then she drove me home."

"God, Richard, I think we need to ban you from going to parties at your teachers' houses," Emily said.

"Why?"

"Every time you go to one, you end up sleeping with some girl!"

Richard laughed with Emily.

"Sandra? You still there?" Richard asked, realizing she'd been absent from the conversation for a long while.

"Yeah, still here," she answered, her voice husky.

"Hey! You bad girl!" Emily blurted out after a moment.

"Sorry, I couldn't hold out," Sandra said apologetically.

There was some silence for a second, and then Richard cried out as he realized what she was doing.

"I think Richard just figured it out," Emily said, with a chuckle. "Slowness!"

"Maybe we should rent a hotel room for that first week we're back," Sandra said. "I don't think Dave or your teacher will appreciate the constant thumping and pounding."

"Probably not."

There was a little bit more silence.

"Now what?" Richard asked.

"Sorry, Richard," Emily said, after a few seconds.

"Oh, not you too! No willpower!" Richard exclaimed. "At least one of us is going to make it all the way until the tenth of January."

"We'll see about that," Emily said.

-------

Christmas came and went. Richard's days were spent painting with his dad, and practicing the piano. Nights were usually occupied by talking for hours on Emily's three way line with the two girls. Occasionally he went out with some friends, but he found himself drinking and thinking, rather than having fun. It was a time of just hanging on, measuring the moments until he'd drive back to Wexford.

Arlene called a few days after Christmas to say hello, apologize, and thank Richard again for being incredibly kind to her the night of the party. Richard thought she seemed much more grounded, but before he could ask about her thoughts, she had to say goodbye. There was a promise to keep more in touch, though. Richard made a mental note to call her in a few weeks, to see how things were going with her.

William also called, provided his address, and asked for regular updates from Richard. He reminded him how much he'd appreciate any tapes Richard could send, even mentioning his will again. Richard wondered if he was being serious, but didn't dwell on it.

As New Year's Eve approached, Richard realized he was now past the halfway point. That gave him new life, and he poured himself into practicing his repertoire for the recital. The hours ticked by...

-------

"Hello?"

"Good morning!"

"Well, you're chipper," Richard said. "I was dead asleep, Em. Was that you who called four times in a row?"

"Yup."

"Here I thought maybe it was an emergency," Richard sniffed.

"Nope. Just had a question."

"It's pretty early for questions ... Where are you?"

"Um, just out in my yard. Down by the road."

"It's noisy there."

"Morning traffic. You know..."

"Well, now that you got my ass out of bed, what's up?"

"I need to send you something. What's your address?"

"I thought we were doing presents when we got back," Richard said.

"I know. But I have a surprise that can't really wait. It's something from my dad, actually."

Richard paused, his interest piqued. "Really? What is it?"

He heard a man's voice call out Emily's name amid the din.

"I'm good, dad," she called out in a muted voice. "He's, uh, giving me his address now ... Okay, have a good meeting down at the theater ... See you tonight."

Then she returned to Richard. "Sorry. My dad was just leaving for work. Give me your address so you can go back to sleep."

"All right." Richard told her the details.

"Cool," Emily said. "Got it."

"Can I go back to bed now?"

"Sure."

"I'll call you later," he offered.

"I'm going out for a while."

"Call me, then?"

"Maybe," Emily said. "How long will you be home?"

"I'll be here all day until I go out tonight with Mitch and the guys for a New Year's party. Sitting around, waiting for your call..."

"Okay, good."

"So I'll talk to you later?"

"Definitely. Bye!"

Richard said bye to the dial tone, looked at the phone with a raised brow, and then trudged back to bed.

That had to be a weird dream ... What the hell would Clark Rathbourne be sending to me?

-------

Richard had just started grinding coffee for an espresso, when the phone rang. He eyed it suspiciously, and then decided to pick it up. I'm awake now,  he thought.

"Hello?"

"Hi!" Sandra said cheerily. "It's me."

"Hey. Another happy girlfriend," Richard said evenly.

"Huh?"

"Emily called me at seven this morning like she had won the lotto."

"Maybe she did," Sandra said.

"No, she just wanted to pester me."

"You didn't have to answer."

"She called five times!"

"Why didn't your parents answer?"

"They're out, buying food at Arthur's Avenue for tonight's dinner."

"Oh well. Guess she was just really wanting to talk to you."

"It is nice to be loved," Richard admitted, laughing.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Umm, eight thirty-five," Richard said.

"Okay ... What are you doing today?"

"Helping with cooking, I guess. Just relaxing really. I took the day off."

"Tired of painting yet?"

"No, it's actually been really nice to hang out with my dad. It also takes my mind off of not being with the two of you."

"I know. I've been reading and playing my fiddle a lot, for the same reasons."

"My dad's treating me differently, too. He's calmed down some. Maybe now that ... Hold on a sec. Someone's at the door."

Richard put the phone down and walked over to the entryway. He pulled open the door, and looked out at the empty patio.

Must be a package? On New Year's Eve?

He opened the screen door, looked around, and almost fainted.

Leaning against the house with a giant smile was a very familiar and welcome face.



-------

Chapter 27: Romanza


"Surprise!"

Richard stood in the doorway, dumbfounded. His mouth moved, but he made no sound.

Then he ran out and hugged her, lifting her off the ground and swinging her around on the patio. When he started feeling dizzy, he let her down gently and kissed her long and hard.

She giggled when he finally let her breathe. "Happy to see me?"

"Am I ever!"

"Told you I was sending you something."

"But ... How did you get here?"

"My dad had some business at Lincoln Center. He chose today, so he could take his new lady out on a date, too."

"And you tagged along?"

"Yup."

"Wow."

Richard stood back and examined Emily from a few paces away, as if to make sure it was her.

"I still can't believe you are actually standing in front of me! How long are you here for?"

"We go back tomorrow morning," she said, pouting. "It's a really quick trip." Then she perked up again. "But at least I can hang out with you today. I know you're busy with friends tonight, though," she said teasingly.

"Friends?" Richard said, frowning. "What friends?"

Emily smirked. "Ouch! Glad to know you'll be there for me and Sandra when we need you someday."

"My plans for the day vanished the minute I saw you," Richard said, hugging her again.

"Sorry that I'm only here for the day."

"That is way better than not being here at all," Richard said, smiling at her. Then he looked back towards the door. "Oh, crap, I left Sandra waiting on the phone!"

"I know," Emily said, grinning.

"What? Wait, is she coming too?"

"No," she said, wistfully. "But she wanted to be on the phone when I got here."

Richard pulled her into the house and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"I'm so jealous!" Sandra said, laughing.

"I can't believe Emily's here. In my house!"

"I know."

"Hi Sandra!" Emily called out. "Made it safe!"

"Hi Em! What did you think when you saw her, Richard?" Sandra asked.

"I don't know. I was in complete shock, for like ... five seconds!"

Sandra tittered. "That's so cool ... Well, call me later. I'm sure you two have things to catch up on," she said knowingly. "Damn, I wish I was there!"

Richard smiled. "We do too, Sandra. We'll call you later."

They said goodbye, and then Richard hung up. He turned to Emily, grinning broadly.

"My lips hurt from smiling," he said.

"Then do something else with them," Emily suggested, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Richard felt like he was kissing her for the first time. His body was awash with warm feelings as they pressed their faces together.

"Now my lips hurt from kissing," he said, looking into her eyes.

Emily smiled and rubbed her nose against his.

"Sorry to spoil the mood, but where's your bathroom? I haven't peed since I left the house this morning!"

Richard laughed good naturedly. "Follow me. Did you fly then?"

"Yeah. I called you from LaGuardia this morning."

"No wonder it was so loud! I thought something was weird. Did your dad drive you up here?"

"No, I took a taxi. It took a little while to find a cab driver who knew where your street was."

"It's a big city," Richard said. "Here you go."

Emily sat down without hesitation, making Richard smile a little. "So what are we doing today?"

Richard shrugged. "I don't know. I've only had two minutes to think about it. What do you want to do? We can go out, or stay here. My family is coming over for dinner tonight. We can go down into the city..."

"Whatever you want. I just want to be with you. Are your folks still out?"

"Yeah. They'll probably be back around lunch time."

Emily finished up and peered into the adjoining room.

"My room," Richard said.

"Cool." She entered, and looked around.

"So, how about one of your famous espressos?" she asked.

"Sure. I was just making one when Sandra called."

"Oh, thanks! You should make another for yourself, then," Emily said, smiling impishly. She stepped out into the hall and examined the pictures hanging on the wall. "Go ahead. I want to look at these. Is this you... ? Aw, you were so cute!"

He kissed her cheek. "I'll be in the kitchen."

Richard ground some more beans, and then packed the sieve with the finely ground coffee, still in disbelief. As he lined up two cups under the machine, he considered the conflict that had suddenly been presented to him. Smiling to himself, he made his decision fairly quickly.

Since Emily hadn't appeared by the time he stopped the machine, he fingered the two cups and went back to his room. The door was closed, so he pushed it open with his foot.

Emily was looking at some pictures, lying face down on his bed and pointing away from him.

She was also completely naked.

Richard stared for a moment, questioning his earlier decision, and then let out a pleased murmur as he closed the door to his room.

"Bed's comfy," Emily said nonchalantly.

"I see you've made yourself at home."

She wiggled her bottom at him.

"Here's your espresso."

Emily flipped over and sat up, pulling her knees up to her chest. Richard kept his eyes fast on hers as he handed her the cup.

"Miss me?" she asked, eyes sparkling.

"Like crazy."

She let her legs open slowly.

Richard kept his eyes on her face, keeping his smile small.

"I'm not looking..." Richard teased.

It was Emily who laughed first. She sipped from her cup, hummed in pleasure, and then set it down on the night table.

"That's really good ... So when's the last time you had a naked babe in your room?" she asked.

"Never."

"Oh, come on. Really?"

"Not in here."

Emily put her hand to her mouth and opened her eyes wide. "Oops. Then I've desecrated your room..."

Emily swung around and got up off the bed across the room from Richard. He took in her form as she peeked out the window for a few moments.

She finished her coffee, turned to him, and walked around the bed. After taking his cup from him and setting it aside, she kissed him passionately.

"Have you ever done that in here?"

"Well, I've kissed in here. But never like that..."

Emily put his hand onto her breast, and moved it slowly.

"How about this?" she asked, watching him closely.

"Um ... Once." Richard smiled. "In here," he clarified.

Emily raised her brows slightly for an instant, and then moved his hand downwards.

"This?" she murmured.

"Nope."

"This?" she whispered in his ear.

"Nope."

Emily disappeared from before his eyes.

"Haven't done that either," Richard said, after a few moments passed.

Richard closed his eyes and basked in the feeling. Then he moved back from Emily and pulled her up.

He kissed her, again feeling like it was the first time.

He guided her down onto the bed. Emily looked up at him expectantly.

"I take it you've never done it with anyone on your bed, then?"

"No. And I don't plan on doing so," Richard said, grinning.

"Ooh, where will you take me, then? On the piano?"

Richard chuckled. "No. No naked babes allowed on the piano."

Richard knelt down, and kissed her inner thighs.

"Oh, is that some rule I don't know about?"

Emily trailed off, as he traveled along her legs towards where they met.

He took his time, exploring areas he'd not kissed in what seemed like an eternity. Knowing the teasing that was to come later, he decided to return the favor before he even received it.

Emily began to grow a little desperate as he kept avoiding any strong stimulation. Every time he touched on a sensitive spot, she'd moan in pleasure, only to have him move elsewhere.

At last, Richard closed her legs and pushed them up towards her chest. Very gently, he started to pleasure her directly with his tongue. Emily's throat suddenly went into gear, as she realized that the teasing was over.

With some help from his fingers, he lavished attention on her as she started to climb up through the plateaus of pleasure.

When she began to grow quiet, Richard knew she was close. A few moments later, Emily tensed up and held her breath. Richard smiled as he felt the slight shudder.

He eased away from her, still caressing her with his hands. Emily responded with little murmurs each time he ran his finger across her sensitive spot. She came down gently, and then sighed.

"God, that is so much better than what I've been doing," she said.

"Glad you liked it," Richard said.

Emily sat up, and Richard winced at her still wild look. Clearly that was not going to be enough for her.

Now the real fun begins... 

"So. If we're not going to do it on the bed..."

Richard shrugged, standing back and watching her with a grin.

Emily stood up in front of him, running her hands over his shirt. After Richard didn't react, Emily shrugged.

"Well, if you're not going to tell me..."

Emily turned and looked around at the room. She walked over to the desk, and moved a few items. Then she bent over to lay her body on it, turning her head to look at him questioningly.

Richard just shook his head.

Emily frowned and then stood up, lips pursed as she scanned the available areas. She pointed to the floor.

Richard again shook his head.

Emily pointed. Closet?

Negative.

There was nowhere else in his room to suggest. She walked past him towards the bedroom door. Richard considered stopping her, but he was too amused by her search for a place, so he followed with a smile.

She peeked out into the hallway, listening. Not hearing anyone, she stepped out. Richard followed as she walked cautiously through the house. As she saw places that looked like possibilities, she pointed silently and expectantly, only to have her eyebrows fall as Richard shook his head.

When the kitchen table was also rejected, Emily finally let out a huff.

"Okay, Richard, I give up. Tell me, take me, whatever! I just want you to fuck me!" she said, grabbing at his clothes. She unzipped his fly.

"Not going to happen."

Emily laughed as she reached into his pants to stroke him. "Whatever!"

"I'm serious."

Emily looked up at him, staying her hand. "Why not?"

"I said I was waiting until the tenth of January. I meant it."

Emily cracked up. For a long time, she couldn't speak. Finally she got some words out.

"Oh, Richard! You are such a tease. Now, will you take me back to your room and fuck me silly? I don't give a shit about the tenth!"

Richard reached down and put a finger into her. Emily melted against him, murmuring.

"Thank you."

Richard leaned in to kiss her ear, and then whispered. "I care about the tenth."

Emily stopped writhing in his arms, and stood up. She moved back a step, and considered him with narrowed eyes. Her fingers had absently taken over from Richard's.

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"Yup."

Emily started laughing. "Damn! I can't believe I came all the way up to New York, and all I get is oral."

Richard grinned. "I think there's a t-shirt that says something like that."

Emily moved close to him, and ran her hand over him. "You are about to burst, though!"

"Yeah," he said frankly.

"What's happening on the tenth?"

Richard shrugged, a secretive look on his face.

"You're up to something," Emily said, her eyes narrowing.

"No. I just said I'd wait until we were all together." He looked around exaggeratedly, even lifting a nearby dish towel. "I don't see Sandra..."

"Sandra knew about this trip for weeks!" Emily protested, taking the towel and swatting him with it. "She even said to do you, for her."

Richard just grinned at her. His mouth was hurting again.

Emily huffed, and then considered him for a moment. "Can I still try to seduce you?" She snaked a hand into his pants again, pulling him out.

Richard laughed, but didn't stop her hand. "It might kill me, but ... Why not? And, I'm happy to, you know, help you out. You caved a long time ago, so..."

Emily knelt down suddenly. Richard groaned. He knew he wouldn't last long in her warm mouth, so he fought to pull away, staggering backwards. Emily tried to keep up as she moved forward on her knees, gripping him around his butt. Then Richard tripped up on his pants, landing squarely on his ass in the middle of the kitchen. I sure hope my folks don't come home right now,  he thought, as he fended off Emily's naked attack.

For a few minutes, a struggle ensued as Emily tried to mount Richard while he twisted and turned away from her. Tickling entered the mix, and even though Emily scored a few times, Richard eventually got away from her.

Emily cried out in frustration as he moved out of her reach, and she collapsed to the floor. "You!" she said, her eyes on fire.

She was propped up on one arm, flushed, breathing hard, and glaring at him with a face that teemed with unbridled sexuality.

Richard almost gave in, seeing her determined look. Maybe the tenth isn't that important,  he heard a voice say. He realized it came from below his belt.

He zipped up his pants quickly as she crawled towards him, her eyes turned up at him.

"I think we should stop now," he said, glancing out the window.

"No, I almost have you. I know what you were just thinking. You were about to give in."

"Fine, suit yourself. You can keep trying. But I'm going to help my parents bring in the groceries."

Emily took a second to register his words. She glanced back at the windows, and then she turned to him again.

Richard thought he was going to be blown back into the living room by her scowl.

"You're going to pay for this," she said, giving him a growl.

Richard laughed. "Oh, I know I will. I'm sure of it."

Emily stood up, sniffed loudly, and then walked past him towards his room. Not before giving him a quick but scorching kiss, though.

Richard took a few moments to catch his breath. He adjusted his pants and shirt, and then went outside. He hoped Emily would cool off some, before she came out to greet his parents. Otherwise, there'll be questions for sure!

-------

Richard thought it was the longest day of his life. Especially when he realized that he'd have no relief for ten more days. The pressure building up inside of him was becoming unbearable. More than once, he found himself wondering what the hell he was doing.

Yet, he also found himself frequently giving Emily opportunities to try to change his mind that day. The arrival of his parents had cooled things off considerably, but frequent trips to secluded parts of the house quickly turned into two minute seduction sessions.

Richard could tell Emily was having fun, but also bursting with desire. At a dinner table of twenty relatives and friends, they only had eyes for each other.

After a particularly hot kiss in his room, sometime after dinner had ended, Emily looked up at him with unfocused eyes.

"I can't wait any longer. Do whatever you want to me, but do something! I'm going to die, otherwise. Please... !" she pleaded.

Richard locked his door. "I don't need my extended family making fun of me for the next week. Can you stay quiet? Not even a word! Sound carries like crazy in this house."

Emily answered by disrobing in record time. "I promise."

Richard found a CD of piano sonatas and put it into his stereo, turning it up to a healthy level.

Before the first movement had ended, he had reduced Emily to a shuddering mess on his rug.

"More," she groaned. It was the only time she broke her promise in the next hour.

-------

Anyone really watching them would have perhaps thought twice about passing through the fiery looks of passion that flowed between these two young lovers, lest they be burned. Most people in New York mind their own business, though.

Emily sat across from Richard on the subway, watching him across the aisle with admiring eyes. Richard watched back. People passed back and forth as the stops came and went. Occasionally, someone would stand between them for a minute or two, but when they moved away, Emily and Richard's eyes were still locked. Only their smiles changed, growing and waning in response to subtle signs read in each other's eyes.

-------

Richard was drawn out of his little world by the unintelligible sound of their stop name coming over the loudspeaker. Above the din of the brakes and rails, stop announcements were a language of their own, when they even existed. Luckily Richard had ridden the subway enough times to learn it.

He stood and offered a hand to Emily as the train began to slow. She took it and spun around into his arms.

"Fancy," he said, steadying himself on a pole.

Emily breathed deeply and squeezed her eyes tight, and then smiled up at him.

"I love you," she said, bliss touching each word.

"I love you too, Em."

After the marathon they ran in Richard's room a few hours earlier, Emily had been sated, and had grown romantic. Now he felt like he was in an old movie, as they stepped out into the night air, arm in arm. Snow was falling lightly, and just starting to frost the streets.

Revelers were pouring west, ignorant of the weather, and the two of them joined the movement.

"How far are we?" Emily asked.

"Just a few blocks. We'll see how close we get. It's pretty late."

Richard led her through the streets towards the glowing square. Sounds of merriment grew louder and louder, and soon they were caught up in the edges of the crowd. Pushing in and out of slow moving rivers of bodies, they eventually secured a place where they could see something beyond the sea of people.

"This will work," Richard said.

"I don't care where we stand, as long I'm next to you."

They kissed gently, momentarily ignoring the cacophony around them.

"I've never been down here for this," Richard said.

"Really?"

"No. I don't even watch the apple fall on TV."

"It's crazy," Emily said, looking around. "I've never been in such a huge crowd."

"Are you still okay?" he asked.

Emily nodded. "Just don't let go of me."

"I promise I won't."

The atmosphere was overwhelming, and Richard just held onto Emily until the countdown began.

One minute, and then less.

With ten seconds to go, Richard put his hands on each side of Emily's glowing face and looked her in the eyes. Snowflakes settled like jewels on her cheeks for a moment, before melting away.

"Happy New Year, Emily."

Then he kissed her for a long time, as the entire city cheered him on.

-------

It was quite late when they passed through the doors held open by the bellboy.

"I think I have my own room," Emily said. "Do you want to come up?"

Richard smiled at her. "I don't dare."

Emily nodded. "I know. We would cave in for sure."

"We?" Richard asked, brow raised in amusement.

"I'm going to wait until the tenth, too."

"Okay, good. Then I really better not come up. I wouldn't last a second if I had you alone right now," Richard agreed.

"Best to say goodnight and goodbye here, then."

Richard nodded.

"You are an amazing woman, Emily. Thanks for coming to visit me in New York," he said.

"No, not New York..." she murmured, her lips on his. She kissed him delicately. "It was heaven..."

-------

Returning to the banality of painting walls with Chiffon Sweater and Peach Fuzz was at least as hard as not giving in to the fantasies which controlled his mind for the following week. There was nothing he could do but wait it out, and try to enjoy his time at home. Whenever he revisited the evening he had spent with Emily in his head, it always ended up much differently, usually in her hotel room or on his floor. Still, he kept his promise, hard as it was.

The three way calls resumed. Emily had clearly told Sandra every detail of their short time together, because Sandra announced that she had stopped pleasuring herself also, and was now waiting for their reunion. That was only a small consolation to Richard's excitement, however.

The days passed excruciatingly slowly. Even playing the piano was not holding his attention as his mind envisioned the tenth. He couldn't wait to see them both again, hold them...

His dreams mushroomed to occupy his thoughts at all hours.

He was almost surprised one day to find himself in the car driving down the interstate with his dad.

One more night... 

-------

January tenth came at last. After checking out of the hotel they had slept in, Richard's dad drove him the short distance over to the conservatory.

"Good, looks like you are all set," Vittorio said, as he set Richard's bags on the sidewalk. "Are you sure you do not want a hand?"

"No. I can carry it in from here. You should get on the road while you are fresh."

Vittorio nodded, and then hugged Richard tightly. He kissed each of his cheeks once.

"Study hard, Riccardo. You cannot get this time back in your life."

"I know."

"Call me."

Richard nodded.

One more hug, and then Vittorio got in the car, waved, and took off.

"Ciao, Pa..."

Richard grabbed his bags, and went into the building. He found Dave in his office.

"Hey! He returns," Dave said, jumping up to greet Richard.

"How was your break, man?"

"What break?" Dave said, grinning.

Richard laughed. "Did you leave anything for me to do?"

"Oh, for sure. Irina's project is ready and waiting. Still want to start tomorrow?"

"Yeah, if that's all right?"

"Of course."

Richard indicated his bags in the hallway. "Can I leave my bags in the studio for a while?"

"Sure, as long as you want. No one's around yet."

"Cool. How's three o'clock, tomorrow?"

"See you then," Dave said, grinning. He pointed. "You still need to borrow that?"

"Oh, yeah. Thanks!"

-------

Emily gripped the armrests as the plane thudded to a rough landing. She wasn't sure if her stomach was twisted from the flight, or in anxiety about the coming evening.

Will things be the same, when the three of us are back together?

She waited impatiently in the aisle after the plane came to a stop. Normally she sat until her rows of the plane started exiting. Today, she had her seatbelt off the moment the brakes squeezed tight.

After what seemed like an hour, the doors were released and Emily pushed down the aisle. She fought to keep her horn from hitting the seats, or the few people who remained seated.

She hoped Richard would not be too distracted by his work on the editing when she showed up. She was dying to be with him like he had been in New York.

And she also longed for Sandra, as well. They had talked alone, during times when Richard was working, and shared some intimate passions and fears. They had grown even closer as friends.

But it was over the phone... 

Emily dismissed her thoughts as she emerged into the waiting area and started walking briskly down the concourse towards the baggage claim. It's Richard and Sandra. Nothing's changed. Why would it?

She did a double take when she spotted a familiar figure waiting by the carousel, arms crossed.

"Hey, I thought you were working!" she exclaimed. She set her horn down unceremoniously in the middle of the floor, and rushed into his arms.

"I took a break to meet you here," Richard said, giving her a quick peck.

"You didn't have to do that!"

"Oh. All right. I guess I'll go back, then," he said, turning from her.

Emily grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back. "Come back here, you. I want a real kiss."

Richard looked around, and then did as she asked.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Much better, now that I'm on the ground and in your arms." She ran a hand down his chest. "Mm, my favorite shirt..."

Emily's bag came out quickly. Richard seemed amused at something, but also was quiet. He grabbed her suitcase off the carousel.

"Is this it?" he asked.

"Yeah. I travel light."

He hefted the bag, pretending to stagger. "Do you?"

"Give me that," Emily said, swatting him.

He pushed her hand away and started off. "Come on."

Emily grabbed her horn and he led her outside, passing the taxi stand. She paused in surprise.

"Did you drive?"

"Dave lent me his car," he called back. "Come on!"

Emily rushed to catch up. "That was nice of him."

"Yeah," he said simply.

When they arrived at the small vehicle, Richard pulled the passenger door open for her. He loaded her bag into the trunk, and then he got in the driver's seat.

"Does Dave work at Thrifty?" Emily asked, after a few minutes of silence had passed.

Richard shot a look at her. Emily smiled mischievously.

Richard turned back to the road without a word.

Mysterious,  she thought, watching him avoid her glances.

-------

"Wait here," he said, as he pulled into the lot in front of the dorm. Emily watched as he walked around the building and disappeared. For nearly ten minutes, Emily waited patiently. Then Richard reappeared, carrying two bags. Sandra followed close behind, carrying a third.

Emily sprang out of the car, feeling very nervous. She met Sandra halfway across the short lawn. Richard stood close by, watching with a grin as they hugged and kissed for a bit.

"You look great," Emily said, looking at her.

"You too, Emily. You too."

Richard gave them a moment, and then came up to them and wrapped his long arms around both of them. "Welcome back," he said.

They held each other for a while, and Emily felt a completeness she had not felt in ... over three weeks.

Suddenly, she knew everything was going to be fine.

"So what's this about a car?" Sandra asked.

"I rented a car," he said, giving Emily a frown. "I wanted to pick Emily up."

"Well, that was sweet!" Sandra said with a smile...

"I can give you a ride up to Emily's teacher's house now, too," Richard said.

He hefted the bags and went to load them into the trunk. Emily put her horn in the front seat, and then got into the back with Sandra, smiling and kissing.

When he sat in his seat, Richard was holding a large brown paper bag that was clasped shut with a few clips. He sighed as he glanced at the passenger seat.

"Guess I'm riding with horny here," he said.

Everyone burst out laughing. One of the girls groaned.

"That was bad, Richard," Emily said.

"Yeah. Besides, I'm not sure horny is really sitting in the front..." Sandra said.

Richard turned to them as he backed out. "From now on, no more questions," he said seriously.

"What do you mean?" Sandra asked.

Richard stopped the car abruptly, and looked at her sternly.

"Sorry," she said, making an exaggeratedly fearful face.

Richard smiled and continued backing up.

"I wonder where we're going," Emily said loudly, as Richard started down the road.

Richard eyed her in the mirror.

"Wasn't a question," Emily said impishly.

"Not far, obviously," Sandra said after a moment.

Richard had pulled into the drive that fronted the conservatory. He slid the car into a thirty minute loading zone spot, and killed the engine.

"Are we practicing?" Sandra asked, before covering her mouth and looking at Richard.

He ignored her and got out, opened their door, and then retrieved the paper bag from the front seat. He held it out to them. Sandra took it and started undoing the clips.

"No, no," Richard said, pushing her hand away. He pointed to Emily's horn. "Can you store your horn in the horn studio for a few hours?"

"Um, yeah. Why?"

"No questions!"

Emily grabbed her horn, and the girls looked at him expectantly.

Richard pointed to the bag. "Find a bathroom. Be out in fifteen minutes. Or less." He leaned back against the car, checking his watch. "Well? Go ahead!"

Sandra looked at Emily, and they hurried into the conservatory building, glancing back a few times.

"What's going on?" Sandra asked, when they entered the building and Richard was no longer able to squelch the questions.

"I have no idea. He's been acting strange since he picked me up."

They stopped off at Emily's teacher's studio, where she dug out her key and dropped off her horn. Then they entered the main bathroom, and took the bag to the counter.

Emily watched as Sandra undid the clips and looked into the bag. She paused for a second, and then moved her arm through the contents. An amazed smile spread across her face and she turned to Emily.

"What is it?" Emily asked, feeling her body react with chills at Sandra's dancing eyes.

"I think you and I are in for a long night, Emily."

-------

Richard checked his watch. Twenty seven minutes had passed since he'd dismissed the girls on their errand. Should have got them a watch, too,  he thought, letting out a chuckle. It only took me six minutes to get ready... 

A few minutes later, he saw a flash of dark red and green through a window. He straightened up, only to have his knees weakened a few seconds later as the doors opened. He couldn't imagine anything more beautiful walking towards him at that moment.

-------

Sandra felt on the edge of tears as she kissed Richard. She dared not talk. She gave Richard a long and meaningful look, ran a hand down the lapel of his suit, and then slid into the car. Behind her, Emily murmured a thank you, and then she was sliding in next to Sandra.

Sandra took Emily's hand in hers as Richard closed them in. They looked at each other with big smiles.

Emily leaned over and kissed her, softly at first, and then a little more passionately.

Richard got in the car, and looked back at them, grinning.

"Merry Christmas," he said.

The girls melted, and reached for him. Richard let out a surprised noise as they smothered him with kisses.

"Okay, okay, save some of that for later!" Richard said, extricating himself from the attack of hands and lips.

"These are just beautiful," Sandra said, indicating their dresses. "How did you know our sizes?"

Richard looked back innocently. "No questions?" he reminded her.

Sandra sighed, shaking her head.

Richard pulled out of the drive. He obviously has a destination for these fancy outfits,  Sandra knew. More surprises... 

The next fifteen minutes were quiet, but full of looks and quiet laughs in the back seat. Richard remained as stoic as a high priced limousine driver.

As they approached the downtown area, Richard finally spoke. "I hear there's a good restaurant at the Concorde Hotel," he said simply.

Sandra clapped her hands excitedly. Near the beginning of the year, when money had still been somewhat available, a browsing of a city restaurant guide had placed Chez Marceau near the top of the list of places they wanted to eat at. The demands of school had quickly turned the list into a wish list, but Sandra hadn't stopped thinking about it on occasion.

Richard pulled up to the hotel doors, and hopped out. Valets instantly had the girls exiting from the rear of the car. Richard looked around for a moment, and then flipped the keys to one valet who approached hurriedly.

"Are you staying with us, this evening, sir?" the valet asked.

Richard laughed. "I wish. We're just here to eat."

"Very well," the man said. "Blue ticket, then," he said, handing Richard the stub.

"Thanks," Richard said, exchanging the stub with a few bills.

"Thank you, sir. Enjoy your dinner."

Sandra felt like she was floating as she entered the lobby of the fancy hotel. Gold leaf and filigree overwhelmed her. The chandelier showered them with sparkles.

Richard called the elevator, and soon they emerged on the second floor to the rich aromas of French cuisine. Sandra smiled and breathed deeply, finding Emily and Richard doing the same.

She looked at Richard, again feeling her throat tighten. This has to be a dream,  she thought.

-------

During dinner, Richard had finally loosened up, and the three of them talked like they hadn't seen each other in years. Richard had ordered wine, and encouraged them to order several courses.

He still did not entertain any questions about the dresses. After a couple of attempts at asking him, Sandra and Emily stopped, no longer wanting to dispel the fairytale feeling of the dinner.

Dessert and a sweet wine lingered on their palates for a long time, as dinner stretched out over the hours. Sandra didn't want the night to ever end, but when Richard noticed that they were the last table remaining in the restaurant, he suggested they think about leaving.

"I'll be right back," Sandra announced, standing up.

Emily stood as well.

Richard gestured to the bill. "I'll take care of this, and then we can go. I need to use the restroom, too, so wait for me back here."

Sandra pouted. "Sorry," she said, indicating the check.

"Merry Christmas," he said, smiling.

She blew him a kiss and followed Emily to the bathroom.

When they entered, they looked at each other for a moment, before both speaking at once.

"Can you believe this?"

"I can't believe we are here... !"

"That man just completely swept us away," Emily said, her eyes sparkling in the multitude of lights surrounding the mirrors.

"How are we going to repay him?" Sandra asked. "We need a place to be alone."

"We'll figure something out. Maybe we can break into the dorm."

"Motel," Sandra suddenly said.

Emily nodded. "We could do that," she said, warming up to the idea. "I don't know what our setup will be at my teacher's house."

"I'll pay for it," Sandra said. "I just want to have the night together with you two, and not worry about waking people up."

"I'm sure we can convince Richard."

Armed with a plan, Sandra and Emily took some time to freshen up, and then they returned to the dining room.

Richard was not back yet, so they waited impatiently in their seats. A few minutes later, he appeared, and offered them his arms. They walked slowly to the elevator, pressed close to each other.

The waiting area was empty, so Sandra stopped Richard before he reached for the call button. She looked him in the eyes.

"That was an absolutely amazing meal."

"Good. That's your present," he said, to both of them.

"Well, it was the best present I've ever gotten," Emily said.

"Now, we want to take you somewhere," Sandra said excitedly.

"Oh?"

Sandra thought she saw a blink of panic pass across his eyes.

"We can't go to the house we're staying at," she said quietly. "We need to be alone with you."

Richard shrugged. "Okay. I don't think Dave's house will be much better."

"Let's go find a motel," Emily said.

"We can stay up all night. Doing all those things we've been dreaming about..."

"It's still January tenth," Emily added.

Sandra got closer to him. "I hope you are ready. This kind of treatment deserves a night that will blow your mind..." she whispered.

Richard staggered back slightly, eyes wide for a moment.

"I didn't do all this, just to get that," he whispered back.

"I know, and that makes it all the more important," she whispered again.

Richard turned and looked at Emily expectantly. She nodded vigorously.

"Well, you don't need to convince me," he said, suddenly laughing. "We can drive over to the airport. I saw a bunch of places over that way."

Sandra pressed the call button, feeling a tingle start to flare inside of her.

The elevator arrived at last, and Richard followed them in.

"You two look amazing," he said, standing in the doorway. He pushed back on the doors as they tried to close on him. "I think we should go dancing first."

"Dancing?" Sandra said quizzically, as Richard entered and turned to the button panel.

The elevator doors closed, and Richard turned in place, grinning.

"Please don't faint..." he said.

Sandra almost did.

The elevator started upwards.

-------

Emily stared with open mouth at Richard, and then at Sandra, and then back at Richard. He stood in front of the floor buttons, hiding their destination, and watching their reactions. The elevator continued to rise.

"Richard," Emily said, her voice throaty.

"Hmm?" he hummed expectantly.

Emily opened her mouth.

Richard whispered first. "No questions..."

With each second, Emily felt like a weight was pushing down on her harder and harder. They watched the needle turn clockwise until it hit the stop.

"Oh my god," Sandra murmured.

The doors opened. Richard extended an arm, and the girls passed through into the carpeted hallway. He whistled a melody as he led them down the corridor. He stopped at one door, and put his ear to it.

"Ah, I hear music."

"Music," Emily echoed weakly.

He turned to them and frowned. "I told you we were going dancing."

Then he produced a gold key and opened the door.

-------

Richard felt like he had revealed a new frontier, the way Emily and Sandra drifted into the room with giant eyes. He stayed a few paces behind them as they spread out into the suite, ogling the giant bed, taking in the view of the city lights from this height, and generally acting like they were deep in the middle of their fondest fantasy. From the corner, the CD player was faithfully sending Sinatra's voice into the room.

He didn't mind being ignored as they found the vase of roses on the table, or the bottle of champagne on ice. He didn't mind, as they exclaimed in awe at the size of the bathtub, and then cried out again as they noticed it had jets. They paid no attention to him as they tried out the bed by sitting on it, and then took a look in the closet, surprised to see their suitcases there.

Richard quietly opened the champagne and poured out three servings. Then he leaned against the table and watched the girls walk around on air for a while.

At last, having saturated their senses with the opulent room and everything it implied, they turned their eyes to him.

He felt like he had opened a furnace.

He spread his hands apart in front of him. "That's it," he said, surprised at how his voice was shaking. "No more surprises. That's all I got."

The girls simply attacked him with hugs and kisses, even knocking over one of the champagne flutes in the rush.

"This is..." Sandra stuttered, unable to describe her feelings.

Richard righted the fallen glass, and then refilled it.

"To us," he said gently.

The girls were still too stunned to even echo his toast. They clinked glasses, and drank.

Richard smiled at them as he held them close. The song ended, and for a moment, all Richard could hear was two long sighs taken together.

"This has to be a dream..." one said.

"Has to be..." the other agreed

"It's not."

Richard took their hands and spun them into the room as a new song began. With a mix of amazement, amusement, and love in their eyes, the girls double danced with Richard, twirling around as they stepped around the large open room.

Several times, Richard found himself tied up in knots. The talent in his hands had always been somewhat compensated by the lack of it in his feet. He was never a dancer, and moving two partners around gracefully was just too much to ask. Still, the girls were far too high to even notice his struggle, let alone comment on it.

When he passed near the large comfortable chair in one corner, he pressed them close and then let go as he plopped down into it.

The girls raised brows at him.

"Carry on," he said, sweeping his hand towards the center of the room. "I suck."

They giggled, and then Emily pulled Sandra close. They kissed softly for a moment.

"Mm. I want to see more of that," Richard said.

Another kiss followed, slightly more heated. Then, perhaps unfettered by Richard's clumsier feet, or inspired by his watching eyes, they twirled off in a series of moves that looked almost rehearsed. Their arms coiled around each other as they spun around the room, eyes bright.

Parts of legs which had remained hidden all evening began to make brief appearances as their dresses whipped around. Giggles punctuated the moves, and Richard smiled as he watched them show off for him.

At last, they made a mistake, as a dip went in two opposite directions, and Sandra fell face down across Emily's middle with a little shriek. A heap of laughter followed.

"What was that?" Emily cried out. She sat up, and spanked Sandra on the bottom.

"Sorry!"

Sandra sighed, and made no effort to get up. She just grinned contentedly at Richard, and then widened her eyes playfully as Emily pulled her dress up.

Emily gave her another playful spank.

Normally, Richard would have laughed at the scene, but at that moment they could have been handing out hundred dollar bills and he wouldn't have noticed.

"Wh-When did that happen?" he exclaimed, pointing to Sandra's naked butt.

"What?" Sandra asked innocently.

"No underwear? I put some in the bag!"

"Really? I must have missed them."

Richard sat up in his chair, watching as Emily slipped a hand between Sandra's legs.

"I think someone's excited!" she sang in a teasing voice.

"Are you ... bare, too?" Richard asked Emily.

He only got a mysterious shrug and upturned eyes from her, but that answered it so much better than a simple 'Yes' ever would have.

"You mean you two sat through dinner like this, and I didn't know it?"

The girls tittered, pleased at his surprise and arousal.

Emily had evidently done something new with her hidden hand, since Sandra closed her eyes. She remained across Emily's lap, her bottom up in the air slightly.

Richard sat back a little, finding his fixation on the lack of panties lessened by the action on the floor.

"Do you want to help?" Emily asked, as Sandra murmured.

Richard shook his head. "You two haven't seen each other in a while, either," he said.

Emily withdrew her hand and patted Sandra. "Up, love," she said.

Sandra got onto all fours and stretched. Then Emily helped her up.

Richard had seen men unzip dresses on television. It was always appealing to him for some reason. Seeing Emily do it to Sandra, though, was in a category of its own. He began to feel three weeks of patience start to get very impatient in his middle.

The dress split apart, revealing Sandra's bare back. Emily followed the V of the zipper with kisses down her spine. The straps were next to descend, and then the soft cloth cascaded to the rug and fell into a circular pool around Sandra's heels. With a perfect twist of her leg, Sandra stepped out of the green ring.

Emily took a moment to carefully drape the dress over the back of the couch, and then she returned to Sandra's back. She ran a few fingers gently down Sandra's shoulders and arms, and then took her hand. With a slow, final dance turn, Sandra found herself lip to lip with Emily.

Richard found he was on the edge of his chair again. His suit pants were getting tight, but he forced himself to remain a clothed spectator for the moment.

"Oh, I've missed you," Sandra said breathily into Emily's lips.

"I know. So have I."

They cradled each other's faces as they arched and tensed, pressing harder against each other. Tongues flicked and fought.

Emily led Sandra to the couch. With a gentle kiss, Sandra let herself sink down onto the large cushions, her head landing on a soft pillow. She lay towards the end away from Richard, and caught his eyes with hers.

"Wow," she said, smiling. Richard wasn't quite sure if she meant the couch, Emily's touch, or the entire evening...

Emily climbed on top of her, resuming their kiss. Sandra parted her legs to let her lie fully on her.

Richard was about to burst at the sight. Emily, still in her dress, was passionately loving Sandra like he had not seen before. There's something new in the way they embrace and kiss,  he thought.

Emily inevitably stopped kissing Sandra's mouth and began kissing other parts. Sandra's chin and neck gave way to the valley between her breasts, and then the curve of her waist. Sandra raised one leg to the back of the couch as Emily reached her target.

Sandra let out a sigh that was heavily laced with the relief from many long days apart. Emily's head moved up and down, and back and forth, as she pleasured Sandra. Sandra had been so wound up by the romance of the evening that she soon was groping at her body as a climax grew within her.

Richard looked down, surprised to see he had removed all his clothes. When did that happen?

A moan from the couch signaled the coming milestone, and he fixed his eyes on Sandra's face, breathing quickly in rhythm with her.

"I thought this day would never come," she breathed, and then she let herself go.

Richard grew shaky as he watched them. Emily's slow slide down along Sandra's body had caught up her dress. It had stopped rising less than an inch away from truly confirming Emily's bareness, even though he knew in his mind it was true.

Now, as her bottom wiggled at him, the dark red dress had become an enticing curtain which he could no longer resist lifting.

Emily gasped in shock, evidently completely lost in Sandra's ongoing orgasm. Richard's unexpected touch had sent a bolt through her, firing up her middle and leaving a contrail of taut delight.

Over the next few minutes, Emily built on the excitement that was slowly subsiding in Sandra. With each touch and kiss, Emily felt herself reliving the hour spent on the floor of Richard's New York room.

But there, she had drawn it out, knowing it was the furthest she would get that day. Tonight ... Tonight, there was a world of pleasure ahead.

She made no effort to guide her feelings, or prolong the buildup. Her orgasm came quickly and burst through her as Richard rubbed her in just the right places.

She remained with her head on Sandra's tummy for some time, letting the waves bounce around inside her body.

Richard was still gently exploring her, when Sandra took a deep breath.

"I am so in love!" she announced dreamily.

She lifted her head and looked down. Emily smiled up at her from her middle, and Richard's eyes peeked over Emily's bottom as he moved. She could see the smile in his eyes, if not on his busy lips.

"I think it's time to let Richard know what we think of the evening so far," Sandra said, biting her lower lip.

Emily murmured in agreement, although she closed her smiling eyes, instead of moving.

Richard placed a final kiss on one cheek, and then sat back, humming.

The girls stood slowly. Sandra took Richard's head and held it against her middle.

"You wonderful man ... You're in for a long night, you know," she said, stroking his hair. "When I said we were going to blow your mind, that was before the elevator started going up..."

"Should I be scared?" Richard asked playfully.

"I would be."

"I'm ready," he said confidently, as he tried to explore Sandra's charms, which were presented at eye level.

Sandra pushed him away gently. "Oh no. It's our turn."

Richard shrugged, looking longingly at her.

"We're in charge now," Sandra said. "You've done enough."

Sandra yanked off the bed covers in a whirl of cloth, and then the girls each took one of his hands. They raised him up and pulled him to the bed.

"Lie down," Sandra commanded.

Richard did, and the girls jumped into bed on either side of him. Richard opened his mouth, but was preempted by Emily.

"No more talking," she said sternly, placing a finger to his lips.

"But..."

Emily paused at his look. "What?"

"The dress," he murmured, looking up at her. "I wanted to peel it off your lovely body..."

Emily melted, and Sandra laughed.

"So much for being in charge!" Sandra cried.

"Hey, like you would have been able to resist that!"

Sandra just giggled.

Emily stood up expectantly, placing her hands behind her back.

Richard jumped up, turned her away from him, and peeled off her dress as he had promised. A few choice kisses and touches made Emily shudder. The dress soon gave way and Emily stepped out of it.

"Lovely," Richard whispered, right before he kissed her ear.

Emily whimpered.

"Come," he said to her, pulling her by the hand. "Come here, Sandra."

Sandra looked at him suspiciously.

"I know you two are dying to torture me, but I just want to look at you for a few seconds. Then," he said, pausing to shrug, "I'm yours to play with."

Sandra nodded and got up. Richard guided them, and had them sit on the edge of the bed, hip to hip. Then he stepped back, taking in the view. Sandra playfully flipped a leg over Emily's, and swung her heels in the air as she pulled Emily close to her. They put their heads together, and gave him their sweetest smiles.

"Damn," Richard breathed, shuddering slightly. "I just had a mind orgasm looking at you two."

He knelt down, removed their shoes, and then stood before them.

"Coming through," he said suddenly, splitting their hug and crawling onto the bed. The girls laughed as he groped and rubbed them in his exaggeratedly awkward journey past them. At last, he was lying still, right down the middle of the bed.

"Okay, now, no more talking."

"Do you remember me telling you in New York you would pay?" Emily suddenly said.

Richard nodded a little. "I do."

"Time for a nice little massage," Emily announced simply.

Beginning with his chest, the girls proceeded to treat Richard to a sensuous massage. They left few parts of their bodies out of the mix, and used some techniques that Richard was sure would end a regular masseuse's career immediately.

When Emily had announced the massage, Richard thought it would be a welcome temporary cool-down before they started messing with him. The sensory overload he had watched on the couch had spread to his middle, and was waiting there to be stimulated out of him.

The massage, however, brought him to an even more desperate sense of arousal. The girls made every effort to tease him straight from the beginning, using positions that were always just an inch from being sexual.

When the hands on him suddenly disappeared, Richard felt like his blood had stopped moving inside of him. Mentally, he had climaxed. All that was needed now were the right physical touches, he thought.

As if reading his mind, that is precisely what the girls started doing that instant. During the massage, they had covered every part of his body except one, and when their lips finally did land on him now, it made Richard convulse in shock. They were much too aggressive, given his condition.

"If you do that for another few seconds, this will be over," he said, his teeth clenched.

"Well, aren't you ready to go!" Emily said, momentarily pausing to speak.

The girls took the admonishment to heart, though, and Richard started regretting his warning. Now that the massage had turned intimate at last, the teasing became even more unbearable. The girls took things excruciatingly slow, holding him still as they made little movements with their mouths and tongues. Nothing was ever enough to push him across the line, and yet he walked right next to it the whole time. He began to hurt with pleasure.

Then Sandra was on top of him, and he was inside her. She just sat still, fully impaled, and watched his face as she moved slightly, inside and out.

"You're going to kill me," Richard said. He was only half kidding.

"Don't come," she warned.

"Easy for you to say," he hissed, and then groaned as she rolled her hips just a little too much.

Sandra sensed she had pushed too far, and held herself stone still.

Richard screamed, but then for some reason, he tried to damp the feeling that was already starting to boil up. It was a five second struggle, as his insides argued about which way things were going to go. Then his mind won, and he stopped groaning. It would have been so easy to let go, but her words still echoed in his head.

"Close one," he said, in answer to Sandra's expectant look.

Sandra started moving again, and Richard felt his body collapse in resignation. She is going to kill me... 

Sandra kept pushing him to the line, each time recognizing the moment a little sooner, and there were only two more close calls.

Then she kissed Richard, which itself almost did it, and slid off of him.

Richard breathed in relief, and then almost screamed when Emily replaced her. He was definitely in pain now, but dared not stop the wondrous torture he was being subjected to.

Back and forth they went, a determined look of sexuality on both of their faces as they probed the depths to which they could arouse him.

Richard lost track of the exchanges. At times he closed his eyes and just fought to stay on the right side of the line, not even sure who was pleasuring him, or how. Other times, he was forced to close his eyes, as the sight of them was even more arousing than the feelings they gave with their bodies and mouths.

He almost gave in on several occasions, but the girls seemed to notice and froze up.

At last, he put an arm out as one of them tried to get on him again.

"No," he gasped. "Please, I can't take any more..."

"So are you ready then?" Sandra asked.

Richard let out a cry at the ridiculous question.

Sandra and Emily looked at each other, and then at Richard lying between them. They considered the options for a moment.

"Rocks, paper, scissors?" Sandra offered her fist to Emily.

They burst out in uncontrolled laughter, until Richard let out a garbled yell to get their attention again.

"Sorry," Emily said, patting him. "But that was hilarious..."

"Is it going to be really huge?" Sandra asked, her voice throaty.

"I can feel it in my whole body. Whoever gets on, better be ready to swim..."

For a moment, the girls looked at his body, like it was a bomb. Richard wondered if they even felt some fear, like the fear one would feel while waiting on the line for a thousand foot high amusement ride.

"You go ahead," Emily finally said to Sandra, her voice a mix of envy and relief. "I got to spend New Year's Eve with him."

Sandra bit her lip. "Hmm ... No. There's only one thing to do."

"What?" Richard said.

Sandra fixed her eyes on Emily. "Cover us both with it."

"Oh!" Emily said, a wicked grin spreading over her lips.

"Get up," Sandra said to Richard, the plan settled satisfactorily between the girls.

"I don't know if I can," he answered groggily.

"Oh, get up!" she ordered, smacking his hip.

Richard fought his way to his feet, standing unsteadily at the foot of the bed. Sandra hopped off and kneeled in front of him, and Emily followed her lead.

"Okay," Sandra said, looking up at him with wild eyes.

Richard began to stroke himself, and then Sandra stopped his hand almost immediately. Richard fought to not cry out in frustration.

"No, wait," she said, looking back at the bed.

She hopped onto it again.

"Get back up," she said, pulling on Emily's arm.

"Just pick something!" Richard blurted out, his voice trembling. "It's coming!"

"You're not even touching it!" Sandra said, as she lay on the bed, on her back, and let her head hang down off the foot. Emily giggled and lay beside her.

"I don't need to touch it at this point," he said.

Richard looked down at them, heads pressed together as they looked up at him with giant upside down grins. They rubbed their hands over their breasts, waiting for his contribution.

Before Richard could do anything, Sandra drew him close to her and swallowed him. She pulled on him hard a few times, and Richard instantly let out a warning yell.

"Don't miss," Sandra said, as she pushed him away and opened her mouth.

Richard reeled dizzily as he realized it was finally over. That sudden plunge down her throat had been the final straw. There was no turning back now. As if in slow motion, everything in his body focused down to a small area in his middle that swirled around.

"Fuck," Richard managed through the haze that was overtaking him, as he stroked himself over their waiting faces. For a moment he wondered if this was going to hurt.

Then things went black as the swirl exploded, and he heard a wild cry from Emily.

"Oh my ... Richard!" Sandra shrieked, from a mile away.

More screams and giggles ensued as things landed in unexpected and distant places...

Richard swore he fell backwards, and felt like he had fallen into water, as the sounds of the room became muffled. He kept tumbling head over heels as the world spun on its end once per second. It took a hundred revolutions until he felt himself finally empty.

With a thunk, he felt his body give way as he expired.

He opened his eyes, expecting to see the ceiling. He was brought back to earth by the scene before him.

He was actually on his knees, looking right at a pair of girls holding out dripping hands over their wet bodies. Streaked faces with eyes squeezed shut giggled uncontrollably. They could not yet speak through the fits.

"Oh my god," Richard whispered, for a moment stunned by the sight of them. Then he started laughing with them. "Oh god!"

"Damn, Richard," Emily finally said, between howls.

Sandra wiped at her face, but it was hopeless.

"Um, we're going to need a towel!" she said in a high voice.

"A few towels," Emily corrected.

"Call housekeeping!" Sandra exclaimed.

"But I don't think I can walk!" Richard said, unable to connect his mind to his body yet. "Seriously..."

"Crawl. Roll. Use the Force, if you have to! Just get us some towels, unless you want us to be glued to this bed the rest of the night!" Emily said, still laughing.

Richard finally crawled, unable to make the towel move from a distance. He must have been a little too spent for that trick.

-------

After the explosion, they took a break. Richard admitted that he felt like someone had kicked him in the privates, and needed to recover.

Housekeeping had been called. Emily had showered and donned her dress again, waiting until the maid arrived with fresh sheets and pillowcases. She explained the wad of departing sheets as an overexcited champagne bottle that had popped its cork, much to the amusement of Richard and Sandra who had taken up residence in the tub.

Naked once again, Emily pulled the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket, and passed out the glasses she filled. She settled into the tub next to Richard and put her legs over Sandra's, which were already lying over Richard's.

Richard had figured out the jets, and they all sighed as they relaxed in the bubbling water.

"You know, I should probably call my teacher," Emily said after some time. "I told him I would call after dinner to let him know when we'd be pulling in."

"Don't worry about it," Richard dismissed. "I already talked to him."

"What?"

"I went to his studio to leave him a note. He was there, so I told him I was taking you to see my aunt tonight."

Emily looked at him with surprise. "Wow. This was no simple date."

"Can we ask questions now?" Sandra said eagerly.

Richard laughed at her enthusiasm. "Ready to rip the curtain aside, are you?"

"I want to know everything. How you set up this amazing night..."

Richard smiled. "All right," he conceded. "Ask away."

"How did you have music playing and champagne ready?" Emily asked first.

"After dinner, while you were in the bathroom, I ran up here to take care of that."

"I wondered what you were doing, for so long!" Sandra said. "Okay, go back, though. I want the whole story ... So you rented a car. I take it you didn't work today, then?"

"No, Dave knew I was going to be out tonight."

"Then ... the dresses. How did you pick ones that fit so perfectly?"

Richard grinned. "Our last night in the dorm last semester, I stole my two favorite dresses from your closet while you were sleeping. I took them to a place in New York, and had them find me some others that would fit like that."

The girls smiled in amazement.

"You took my black dress?" Emily asked.

"Yup."

"I was wondering where that went! When I went to pack, I couldn't find it. I figured it was mixed up with Sandra's things."

"And the shoes?" Sandra asked. "Did you take them then, or did you get into the dorm today?"

"No, I took them to New York and back, since I didn't think I'd be able to get in, let alone get in your room. The underwear, too, but I guess I could have skipped that bit, after all..." Richard laughed. "I thought about getting you new shoes, but I really like the ones you have. Plus I ran a little over budget on the dresses," he added, smiling.

"Richard, how are you going to pay for all this?" Emily asked, her voice serious. "It's amazing, but..."

"I didn't work with my dad nine hours a day during break just to watch paint dry," Richard said, grinning.

"Wow," Sandra said. "Still, this is too much!"

"Well, I'm enjoying this too," he said. "So I went a little overboard, maybe. But it's been worth it to watch you two walk around in the clouds all night."

The girls smiled and giggled at his description.

"So then, around lunch time I took the train downtown, rented the car, picked up my crap from the school ... Then I went and got the flowers, and then got rejected trying to buy champagne at two places, before I finally scored."

Emily laughed. "I could have helped you with that."

"Kind of would have ruined the surprise!"

"What about our bags? You can't have gotten them while we were in the bathroom!"

"Oh, me and Walter go way back," Richard said confidently.

The girls looked at him skeptically. "Walter?"

"The valet. Well, way back to three o'clock this afternoon, when I checked in." Richard amended, laughing. "He knew the deal. Those lines were rehearsed, just to keep you two from getting suspicious. Blue tag is really for overnight guests. He had instructions to take our stuff upstairs. I didn't really want to risk anything happening to your horn, so that's why I had you leave it ... Anyway, that's pretty much it. After I set up the room, I headed out to the airport to pickup Emily. You know the rest."

"Yeah, after that you romanced us, wined and dined us..." Emily said.

"Showered us," Sandra said.

"This is a bath," Richard pointed out, but then he realized her meaning when Emily started laughing again. "Oh, right. Sorry."

"How are you feeling?"

"Better," Richard said.

Sandra looked around at her surroundings. "This is amazing. I can't believe I'm here right now." The music caught her attention. "Where did you get the CD player?"

"Borrowed it from the audio department."

"Does Dave know that you have us sequestered up here?"

"No, he thinks I'm at my aunt's house. My non-existent aunt, who doesn't own a stereo."

The girls laughed, and kissed him playfully several times.

"My turn to ask," Richard said. "What did you think, when you opened the bag with the dresses?"

Sandra and Emily giggled. "We got ... a little excited," they said girlishly.

"What did you do?"

"Sandra said it looked like we were going to have a long night."

Richard smiled. "I figured at that point you'd realize that something was up."

"We were wondering earlier," Emily admitted. "But we never had any idea how far it would go!"

"Then what did you do?"

"We pulled them out of the bag, read your card, jumped around the bathroom like a couple of five year olds for a few minutes..." Emily said.

"Then we tried them on..."

"Jumped around again..."

"So that's what took so long," Richard said.

Sandra looked at him seriously. "Hey, you don't go from riding in a car or on a plane all day, to putting on those dresses in fifteen minutes, Richard! It was a rush to come out as quickly as we did."

Richard conceded with a nod. "I said fifteen minutes, just to keep you moving. It was worth the wait, though: when you two stepped out of the building, I almost fell over."

"Really?" Emily asked excitedly.

"Yeah. But I'm sure it was just because I was standing there with knees locked for twenty minutes," he said, grinning.

The girls splashed him with water.

"I think the biggest rush," Sandra said, her eyes glowing at the memory, "was putting the dress on and seeing how perfectly it fit. Usually that takes hours of trying things on!"

Emily smiled in agreement. "We had to do no work at all..."

Richard smiled warmly, as they relived the changing session.

"When did you decide to go without underwear?"

"When we were trying on the dresses."

"Why?"

"Three reasons. One, you could see the panty lines on Sandra's."

"Unacceptable," Sandra agreed.

"Two, we were inspired by your old girlfriend's technique."

Richard laughed. "Ahh, but it didn't work for her!"

"We weren't worried. We have some other things going for us," Sandra said confidently.

"That you do," Richard agreed.

"Three," Emily continued, "we were feeling like we needed to come up with some surprises of our own."

"Not that we came close to matching what you did," Sandra said, her eyes flashing in amazement again. "Oh, Richard, what an incredible evening you planned for us!"

Richard just grinned, basking in their smiles.

Sandra stood up out of the water, stretching her body. Displaying it, really.

Richard trailed a finger down her wet leg, and then turned her around to face the corner. He rubbed his hands on her perfect behind.

"Mm. Yummy," he murmured.

"Whenever you're ready," she said softly.

"Oh, I think he's ready," Emily announced, after a moment.

Sandra looked over her shoulder. "Yeah, but can you do that underwater?"

Emily laughed. "Probably. I have good breath control."

Richard found himself pushed back down into the tub by the two girls. "But..." he said.

"Oh, you can play with it again later. Go ahead, Em," Sandra dared.

Emily shrugged and put her head under the frothy water. Richard started to protest, and then clammed up.

Only her ponytail broke the surface as she bobbed up and down. She suddenly came up spluttering.

"Ugh. Forgot I can't breathe underwater!"

"Let me try," Sandra said. She dipped down into the water. Her head disappeared completely.

The seconds went by.

"She still down there?" Emily asked at last.

"Oh, yeah," Richard grunted.

Finally, Sandra returned for air.

Emily smirked at her. "Show off."

Sandra laughed, as Emily tried again. This time she didn't breathe, and she stayed under even longer than Sandra had. When she came up, she was on her last ounce of air, and she gasped for breath.

"Wow! That put me to shame," Sandra said. "I thought I was the singer."

"This is nice and all," Richard said, stopping Sandra as she moved towards him to try again. "But at this rate, someone's going to drown very soon. And that would make me very sad."

Sandra made a little face, but sat back.

Richard stood up, and exited the tub.

"I'll be in bed, where it's safer," he said as he toweled off.

"You think it's safe in bed," Sandra said, smiling mischievously.

Richard took a long swig of champagne from the bottle.

"Dispensing with formalities, I see," Emily said, as she took the bottle from him and did the same.

Richard just smiled and went out into the suite. He looked out at the city for a moment. It's a beautiful night... 

He stretched out on the bed, and waited. The girls took their time. When they came out, Richard could tell they had been kissing and touching. Maybe even planning things... 

They wasted no time with talk. Emily crawled up the bed, settling in to start kissing him halfway up his body, while Sandra simply swung a leg over his head and straddled his face.

Richard found things much less urgent now, on his part.

The girls, still not really having fully peaked, were not as patient. Just as Richard started thinking how much he was enjoying Emily's lips on him, she stopped and then moved to straddle him.

The girls let out a pleased noise as they found themselves suddenly face to face, and they completed the triangle with some passionate kissing.

Richard could do very little as the two of them worked themselves up. He was pinned, and partly smothered. They found a rhythm they liked, and Richard held on for the ride.

Richard felt their machine suddenly stutter, and he realized Emily had arrived. He was a little disappointed he couldn't see her do so. But he could hear her, at least.

There'll be other times, tonight,  he knew. She can do better than that... 

Emily rolled off, and then the world returned to his eyes. Sandra had slid forward, and was riding him now. Richard moved his hands to her waist as she leaned back on her arms.

She started to moan. Richard wondered where Emily had disappeared to, and then he heard her say something to Sandra. He looked down along his body, holding Sandra up for a moment. A pair of bright eyes and a smile peeked back at him, past where he was joined with Sandra.

"Hi," she squeaked.

"What are you doing down there?" he asked, aroused by the sight.

Sandra lowered herself, and Emily disappeared again.

"Just helping," she called out.

Then Richard felt her.

"Oh!"

Emily continued to help as Sandra continued her ride. After some time, she whimpered.

"Don't stop, Emily! I'm almost there. This is incredible!"

Richard yanked her down hard onto him every time she pushed herself in to the air. The bed shook and vibrated as Sandra tried to break Richard in two.

At last she exploded, letting out a strangled scream. Her arms gave way, and Richard was surprised by the force of her back landing on his chest. He barely had time to turn his head to the side before she crashed down onto him.

She started chanting, "Oh shit, oh shit..." as she breathed heavily.

Richard sensed she had finished, and he stopped moving.

Emily appeared on top of them, grinning. "That was a good view," she said.

"All right, I actually can't breathe," Richard gasped.

Emily laughed and rolled off of Sandra, and then Sandra rolled to his other side. She curled up and rode out the receding waves of her orgasm.

"Did you come?" Emily asked.

"No. I think I did enough of that earlier."

Emily cooed. "Then I want more. I still haven't hit the big one yet," she said.

Richard looked at her. "How do you want it?"

Emily stood up and leaned against the wall, pushing her bottom out towards him.

"Mm. I can go with that," Richard said, rising.

He paused. "But, I have a better idea."

He took Emily's hand, and led her to the window. Throwing the curtains wide open, he pushed her against the full length glass.

Emily murmured, sensing the eroticism immediately. "It's a little cold," she breathed. "I like it."

"Nice view, too," Richard said, as he knelt down behind her.

Emily bent forwards at the waist, allowing him to kiss her once before he stood behind her again.

She ended up flat against the giant pane as Richard pushed into her slowly.

"I feel like I'm floating," Emily said, her voice giddy.

Richard kissed her neck. "Don't worry, I won't go too hard."

"Please do."

"I really don't want to die naked on the sidewalk at midnight."

"I'm willing to chance it. I want it harder."

Richard knocked on the glass with his fist. It thudded like rock. "I guess you're probably right."

"Come on, the architects must have been thinking of this when they designed the place," Emily said.

"Oh, I'm sure that was foremost in their minds..."

Richard emphasized this by going harder.

"Mm. Better. More."

Richard kissed her upper body as he pumped her, fascinated with how it pressed against the glass. He wished he could be a window washer right then.

A hand caressed his butt. Sandra had roused at last. She helped by rubbing Richard's body as he worked.

This time, Richard knew he was driving Emily right to the top. He'd learned to read her different climaxes based on how she moved her face. This was the big one she was looking for.

Emily remained plastered to the glass as Richard tested the limits of its construction. The pane even started to vibrate with a deep rumble.

Suddenly, the room went completely dark. Sandra had turned out the lights.

Emily let out a long and quiet moan which Richard punctuated every third of a second with his thrusts. Louder it grew, until it suddenly stopped.

The glass seemed to have vanished, now that it was dark. From his vantage point, he felt like Emily was hanging out in the night sky in front of him. He only regretted that Sandra had not killed the lights before Emily's eyes had fluttered closed.

At last Emily released her breath, and finished the moan that had momentarily caught in her throat.

Richard watched her face, taking in all the details. She looked so beautiful at climax, he thought.

He suddenly wondered if he could come. In the excitement of seeing Emily against the glass, he'd forgotten about himself.

Deciding it was too late, Richard withdrew. He pulled Emily away from the window, taking her into an embrace. He held her as she shook a little.

"Whoa, cool," Sandra suddenly whispered. "Look."

Richard looked at the window. Outlined in slight condensation was the fading image of Emily's body in a position of ecstasy.

"That is cool," he said.

Emily turned to see, but the image had already disappeared.

"What?"

"Nothing. You just evaporated," Sandra said.

Richard grinned. Emily was too out of it to follow up on the strange exchange, so she just turned back in to Richard's chest.

Sandra sat by the window, looking out at the city as Richard just swayed with Emily. After some time, Emily pulled away and flopped on the bed.

"Ahh ... That was worth waiting ten days for," she said, her voice laced with satisfaction.

Sandra murmured. "I know. I'm glad we held out."

Richard laughed as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Held out? Whatever! I was the one who waited the whole three and a half weeks."

"Yes, you proved that earlier quite well," Sandra said, glancing at him. She frowned and crawled over to him. "You're still up," she said.

"Yeah."

"Are we not satisfying you?" she asked.

"Oh, yes you are," he said. "I'm just not going down easy this round. That first load was worth double. Triple."

Sandra bit her lip. "There must be something we can do."

"I'm happy to watch you two get off, really. Don't worry about me, I'm fine."

"Oh, but I am worried. I want you to feel good too."

"Believe me, I do."

Sandra stood, turned up the dimmer a little, and walked over to the table. She took up the bottle of champagne and peered into it, and then put it down.

"We're out."

"No, we're not."

Sandra spotted the fridge, and raised a brow at Richard. He nodded back.

She bent over, made sure he was looking at her, and then opened the fridge.

"Jeez! How long are we staying here?" she exclaimed.

"Just tonight," Richard answered. "I swear..."

Sandra sniggered. "Better get to drinking then," she said.

"We can take them with us, for other celebrations. I was thinking ahead. We have some birthdays, a recital, juries ... I just bought the case now, while I had the cash."

Sandra worked the foil off the bottle, and then put the bottle between her legs suggestively as she worked the stopper.

"Cold!" she squeaked, just as the cork shot across the room. It ricocheted off of the ceiling and landed harmlessly in the corner. A burst of champagne followed the cork, and splashed out onto the rug.

She looked down at the wet spot and giggled. "So that's what it's like..."

Sandra put the bottle to her lips, and then came back over to Richard. She passed him the bottle, and he took a sip.

"What do you want to do?" she asked, taking another drink.

Richard shrugged. "Anything."

"What would make you come?"

"You."

Sandra laughed.

"Blow job?" she asked.

"What's that?"

She smirked, and then leaned over and demonstrated the definition for five seconds.

"That might work," Richard said. "But ... What else is on the menu?"

Sandra grinned, happy he had given her the lead. She put the bottle aside after one more sip.

"I could sit on you right where you are," she said. The expected brief demonstration followed.

"Mm, that's good."

"Okay. I can also turn around. A twist on the same dish..."

"That was nice too."

"If you stand up ... then I can do this..."

"Oh. That's tasty."

"Or this."

"Nice, too."

"So what will it be?"

"What do you recommend?" Richard asked.

Sandra looked at him, opened her mouth for a second, and then turned away with a shy smile. She reached for the champagne and took another long drink, and then giggled.

Richard noticed Emily watching them and smiling.

"Sandra's trying to tell you something," Emily said.

"Emily!" Sandra said, whirling around with wide eyes.

"What? It's never going to happen if you don't put it on the menu!"

"Be quiet!"

"What?" Richard asked.

Emily paused, and then shrugged. "She wants to do what me and you did in your room last month."

"Emily!" Sandra flopped down on the bed and covered her face with her hands.

Richard looked at Emily with his mouth half-open. "Oh." He raised his brow, and then turned to Sandra.

"Well, that would certainly do the trick for me," he said. "But," he added, his tone serious, "we don't have to do that, if you don't want to."

Sandra peeked out through her fingers. "I do," she said in a tiny voice.

Richard felt the feeling of a roller coaster build within him again. God damn, this is going to be a crazy night... 

"No need to be shy," he said, reaching to move her hands. She didn't let them budge.

"It's so naughty, though."

"It is," Richard agreed. "But so are most of the things we do."

Sandra pulled her hands away slowly. "I'm nervous now."

Richard smiled. "That's a first."

"What?"

"I've never seen you nervous about sex before."

"How do we do it?"

Richard glanced back at Emily. She just grinned.

"Well, Emily sat on me. Like menu item number two, I think it was."

"Okay."

"But we can do whatever you want."

Sandra rolled onto her back. "Just get on top of me for a while. I want to get more excited before we try."

Richard obliged. He went slow, and took his time so that Sandra would have time to ramp up before he got too aroused. The talk of the coming activity had suddenly pushed him much closer to climax than he thought he was.

Sandra closed her eyes, and Richard was glad to see her getting into it. After a few minutes, he pulled out, deciding to ease into things. He trailed kisses down her tummy, and then pleasured her with his mouth for a while. He slipped a few fingers into her, and then pulled them out and dragged them downwards.

Sandra realized what he was doing, and rotated her hips. Richard held his hand firmly in place now, and let her decide where and how to rub against them.

Richard still helped her out with his other hand as she explored the new sensations presented to her. Eventually, she moved her hips differently, and Richard's finger disappeared slowly.

"Oh ... Whoa..."

Emily had moved to kneel next to her now, and caressed her chest. "What?" she asked Sandra.

"That's not what I was expecting."

"Are you okay?" Richard asked, concerned.

"Oh, yeah. Oh..." Her words turned to little vocalizations as she deliberately moved her body to get a better position. Richard still held his hand solid.

"Okay?" he asked again.

"Yeah," Emily answered this time, smiling.

Slowly, Sandra started rocking her hips, and Richard relaxed his arm, allowing some movement now.

Her vocalizations turned surprised as some new center of pleasure suddenly burst open. "Oh ... wow..."

Emily's hand snaked down, and she rubbed Sandra gently.

Sandra tensed up for a minute, and then slowed her movements.

"I want to try for real, now," she said.

"Do you want to sit up?"

"No, just do kind of what you just did."

Richard nodded. He slid his knees under her thighs and held himself firmly in place, as Sandra angled her hips again and found him.

As before, Sandra took her time as she just rubbed against him. Richard watched in a state of extreme arousal as she did so. Emily had also moved lower to see, still with a hand on Sandra's sensitive button.

Then he felt Sandra pull her feet off the bed a little.

"Okay," she said. "Try."

Richard moved slowly forwards, and pushed against her. For a moment, he slid up and down, but then it was in.

"Oh..." She shuddered and hissed as she moved her hips slightly.

"Okay?"

"Yeah. It's bigger than your finger," she said through sharp breaths. "Just wait."

Richard waited, looking around to keep his mind off of the scene. Emily looked up at him, her eyes full of arousal.

"That's really hot," she whispered, not really helping him stay distracted.

Richard nodded, widening his eyes for a moment.

The pause was good, though. Richard felt the urgency recede from his middle slightly. He was worried he'd last five seconds, when he first went in. I'll probably last at least thirty, now... 

"Go slow," Sandra whispered.

Richard did. He remembered how Emily had moved on him in micro movements, and he did the same to Sandra. Slowly, he shifted forward in tiny increments with his knees, and Sandra breathed and murmured as she got used to him.

"God, did you come like this?" she asked, laying a hand on Emily's shoulder.

"Yes," Emily replied.

"Is it different?"

"It was for me."

"I feel ... I feel this knot of pleasure building up, in a different place than usual."

Richard paused. "Still all right?"

"Yeah. It just feels so different."

"Just let me know if you want to stop."

"No. Keep going. Are you almost all the way in?"

"No. Halfway, maybe."

"God, I feel like I'm split in two already!"

"Just tell me what you want," Richard said gently. "There's no need to go deeper."

"Just keep going. Slowly."

Richard continued, as Sandra pulled on her legs a little more to raise her hips off of the bed further. That made things suddenly easier, and Richard slid in a little quicker.

"Almost there..."

Sandra let out a groan. "Emily, I want to feel you inside me too..."

Emily slid her fingers in. Richard shuddered as he felt her through Sandra.

"Oh!" Sandra suddenly cried out, as things hit home.

"What?" Richard said, starting to withdraw.

"No! Stay... !"

"Does it hurt?"

"No," she said, her throat struggling to produce the words. "But wait..."

"What do you need?" Emily asked, keeping her hand still.

"I don't know. I want you to just start moving, but I'm a little scared."

"Why?"

"It feels so good! Even when you talk, I can feel it down there, and it's like ... electricity! It's intense ... I don't know how much I can take."

"Let's wait here for a minute."

"No ... Just do it..." she breathed.

Richard took a deep breath, and steeled himself. The situation was becoming unbearable again. Things were just too erotic to hold out much longer.

"This won't go on very long," he warned.

"That's okay," Sandra said quickly.

Richard moved, and Emily moved, and Sandra quickly exploded in pleasure. It was an exponential gain, and very soon she had reached her sensual limit. Richard watched in fascination as her face and chest flushed and she threw her head back and forth from side to side. Her voice held onto a high whine as she gripped her legs.

Richard wondered if she also hurt with pleasure like he had. Richard kept his movements small. That was clearly more than enough for now.

Then, just when Richard was about to let himself go, Sandra passed some unseen barrier. Emily looked at Richard with wide eyes, and they could both feel Sandra's body quaking in front of them, and around them.

Richard's climax was lost in the maelstrom. He slowed down, but Sandra continued to writhe her body, lost in a circle of pleasure.

With a last wail, she collapsed, her legs falling to the bed, and her arms flying out to her sides.

Richard and Emily withdrew, probably unnoticed.

"Damn," Richard whispered, as they watched the aftershocks.

Emily nodded. "I don't think we'll be doing that every night!" she said, grinning.

-------

The girls were in heaven all night, even within the dreams they had during a few naps.

Richard had just changed to a final CD selection, and turned out the lights. He found himself cuddled up with Emily and Sandra to each side.

He'd lost all track of time. He had expected to see the sky lighting up long ago, but for some reason, the sun was still choosing not to rise. Maybe their wishes that the night not end really had come true.

The music was still inaudible through the small speakers of the player. Then they caught the first stains of the low melody as the notes rose through the spectrum of the player's capability.

"Hey!" Sandra said, quietly surprised.

"This is the music we first made love to," Emily said.

"I know."

"That was an amazing night."

"It was. But, I think tonight tops it."

"Definitely."

The music grew gently.

The three of them held tightly to each other.

Richard felt two pair of lips meet with his. After the wild evening, this simple act of gentle lovemaking was exquisitely satisfying.

Locks of hair gently caressed Richard's face, and their three tongues moved about in a slow dance. They never moved quickly, but did grow in passion.

There were some gentle caresses, but always in innocent places.

When the trio of lips became a duet, the other pair moved to an ear, or to a neck to impart new tingles.

Bare legs were drawn against bare legs. Toes played with each other.

Their hands were clasped together as the music grew to a first climax.

Richard felt like his soul had met with theirs, and expanded to fill everything he knew. He let himself be carried around by the feelings, not wanting to exit this paradise.

At last the music peaked and receded some.

With a final three way kiss, the girls fell back to his sides.

Richard knew they had reached the same state he had. There was no need for any further physical contact, save for their still interlocked hands.

They had found perfect bliss...



-------

Act IV

-------

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."

"True. What can he do, if you're not there?"

"Exactly. So when I got together with William, I asked him for suggestions of who to study with. He had a few names he thought would really be a good match for me."

"Who would you work with here? Mrs. T.?"

"Actually, Michel Auber."

"Oh. I can see that. I recorded his faculty recital last semester. I actually did think of you when he was playing."

"Was he good? I don't know him very well, yet."

"Yeah, very pretty playing. How's your arm, by the way?"

"Better. Once I made the decision a few weeks ago, it started to go away."

"Stress?"

"Maybe. But it's still a technique thing, too."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it's getting better. So, wow ... You might actually be at Wexford next year."

"Maybe. And, I'll definitely be there on the second of March to audition."

"Oh, cool! I'll personally show you around."

"That would be lovely. How are things with your girlfriend?" she asked.

"Really nice. You'll meet when you're here, I'm sure."

"Okay," she said simply.

"Well, I have to run. I need to eat lunch and then meet Sandra to rehearse her recital songs."

"Is that her name?"

Richard paused. "Yeah. We are playing the recital together."

"That's so sweet, Richard."

"You know, it is. It really is."

-------

Sandra took a deep breath as she entered the large rehearsal room on the bottom floor of the conservatory building. The space was used for a variety of events, including chamber orchestra and section rehearsals, warm up space before orchestra concerts, a dining area for special functions, and as the classroom for the conducting class.

A number of people were already there, tuning their instruments and warming up. Sandra recognized Mr. Menlos from seeing him conduct the orchestra concerts.

Nerves flared up within her, as she realized she was going to be standing up in front of dozens of people, trying to conduct. The class had looked much less intimidating in the registrar's office.

Sandra sat in the rear corner as the room filled up with students. Maybe with this many students, I'll only conduct once or twice this semester... 

Mr. Menlos strode to the podium a few minutes past four, and clapped his hands.

"All right, let's settle down," he called out. "Sarah, give us an A, please."

The oboe sounded for a moment, and then the rest of the musicians tuned up. When they quieted down, Mr. Menlos raised his hands.

"From the top."

He conducted the piece for about three minutes, and then cut them off.

"Okay, now that you all know how it goes, we can get the semester rolling." He stepped off the podium and walked towards the back corner, on the opposite side of the room from Sandra's chosen seat. She felt a little relieved that he seemed to be set up over there, far away from her.

"We have a pretty big class, so you might not get to go every week. That does not mean you should not practice. Chances are, you will conduct in every class."

He looked around. "Those of you who are here, but not taking the class, thank you for volunteering your time. Make sure you sign your name on this list," he held up a clipboard, "and your assistance in forming an orchestra will be duly noted by me. Remember, I'm the one who decides seating for the orchestra concerts. Tell your friends, too."

A chuckle spread through the room.

"All right. I chose something light and easy for today. I think I know most of you. But there are a few names and faces I haven't seen before." Mr. Menlos stood up and grabbed a sheet of paper from his things.

"Let's see here. Sandra d'Arcy?"

Sandra's heart jumped to her throat. "Yes?" she answered.

"Please," he said, gesturing to the podium.

Sandra stared for a moment. Then she jumped up and made her way to the front, before realizing she had forgotten her baton in her bag.

"Um, hold on. Sorry."

She ran back to her seat, trying to keep her heart from racing even more, and pulled the baton out of her bag.

At last she was in front of the orchestra. She held up her baton for a moment in explanation of her double trip to the podium.

"Helps to be prepared," Mr. Menlos said. "Go ahead."

Sandra looked at him for a moment, and then down at the score, feeling like she was on a different planet. This was not what she was expecting at all. She looked around at the players, who waited for some sort of indication from her.

The baton felt like a tree trunk in her hand as she held it out unsteadily. She started to move it up and down.

The orchestra didn't do anything at all.

Sandra felt her face heating up as she stopped and stared at the score.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

No one came to her rescue, and the earth didn't open up and swallow her, no matter how much she urged her fairy wand to make that happen.

She cleared her head, and looked up. She tried again, trying to give impetus to her baton.

A few players came in, and then a few more tried to catch up. Sandra realized in horror that she was beating the time way too fast, and the music quickly turned into a cacophonous mess. The players stopped first, and then Sandra did too.

She took a deep breath, and then looked at Mr. Menlos, steeling herself.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," she admitted.

"Clearly," he said, grinning as the orchestra laughed. "Have you listened to this piece?"

"Yes."

"Do you really want to go that fast?" he said wincing.

"No," she squeaked.

"Good," he agreed. "You need to hear the music in your head, before you even raise your hands."

Sandra nodded.

"What is your instrument?" he asked.

"I sing."

"Ah," he said. "Have you ever played in an orchestra?"

"No."

"Have you ever watched an orchestra?" he asked, raising a brow.

The musicians tittered.

"Yes," Sandra said, still wishing to disappear on the spot.

Mr. Menlos stood and came around to the podium.

"The reason nothing happened the first time you flailed around," he demonstrated, "is that you didn't give them any indication of where you were. You just waved your arm up and down. They probably thought your friend had walked by outside, there."

Sandra felt the heat on her face expand to her neck.

"As for the second attempt ... I'm not sure why they came in. Maybe they felt bad for you."

He turned to the musicians with a grin. "If you don't get a clear beat, or a proper cue in this class, please don't play! We're not here to perform; we're here to teach conducting. Be mean! Be anal about what you see up here, and respond accordingly."

He turned back to Sandra. "What's our time signature?"

"Four-four," Sandra said, glancing at the score.

"Do you know how to beat four-four time?"

Sandra, still quite red, didn't answer.

Mr. Menlos put a hand on her shoulder. "Just relax. It will be much more fun, if you relax."

Sandra did, but only slightly.

"I don't know," she answered weakly.

"It's okay," Mr. Menlos said gently. "Most people are not born knowing that."

He held out his baton and demonstrated. "Down, left, right, up. One, two, three, four."

Sandra matched him.

"Okay, good. Now, let's try again."

Sandra turned to the orchestra, and they raised their instruments. She was certain they were all laughing at her, even behind their serious faces.

Sandra started the pattern. The orchestra came in suddenly, jerking to a start.

Mr. Menlos yelled and glared out at them. "Hey, I said be mean! Why did you come in? If I did that to you in a rehearsal, you'd throw a fit!"

Satisfied with their smiles, he addressed Sandra once more. "What do you do before you start singing?"

"Um ... I don't know."

"Hopefully you breathe?"

The musicians chuckled yet again.

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Imagine if I just told you to sing right now, immediately. Go! No breath. Wouldn't work so well, huh?"

Sandra shook her head.

"The piece starts on the downbeat. You need to give them their breath. That means you give beats three and four, or at least beat four, if you are clear enough. Try again."

Sandra thought about the pattern, trying out the third and fourth beats in little movements down by the score. It felt unusually awkward.

"Yes, right and up, and then downbeat," Mr. Menlos said, demonstrating for her.

Sandra tried for real, and this time the orchestra came in. Again the tempo was lightning fast.

For a few moments Sandra held on to the ridiculous pace, happy to have gotten anything happening at all. The musicians valiantly flew through the music at the absurd speed Sandra was beating.

Then Mr. Menlos waved them to stop.

He looked around at the players. "Whew ... What does Andante mean?"

Sandra stared at the indication in the score. "Like, medium slow?"

"No, no. Andante!" he repeated in an exaggerated Italian accent.

Sandra started to speak, understanding, but orchestra members began to call it out as Mr. Menlos looked at them.

"Going forth."

"Walking."

"Ambling."

"Ambling," Mr. Menlos repeated, savoring the word with a smile. "I like that one."

He turned to Sandra once again, and jabbed at the music with a finger. "You need to know what every word in this score means. Allegro does not mean fast. Adagio: not medium slow, either. Look them up, if you have to."

"I actually did know that," Sandra said quietly.

"Okay, thinking Andante then: hum the first lines," he said.

Sandra did, taking a more moderate pace in her singing than she had in her conducting. Her voice wavered unsteadily.

"Okay, good. I'll say it again. You need to hear the music in your head. Always. Always, always! You cannot conduct something that's not in your head. Let's try again. Give a little more impetus to your beats, especially at first. That will keep them together and establish the pulse better."

Sandra took a deep breath. She couldn't seem to find the right tempo against her speeding heart. At last she settled down, and gave beats three and four.

Then the orchestra started. It was right! She felt a wave of relief as nothing fell apart after eight bars.

Mr. Menlos grabbed her wrist, adding some pulse to her waving arm.

"Feel that?" he asked.

Sandra nodded.

He let her go and returned to his corner to watch from behind the orchestra. Sandra just fought to keep her hand moving correctly. Down, left, right, up; Down left right up down left right up down right left up down right up ... shit... 

The orchestra kept going, despite her dyslexic patterning.

Then she realized some people had stopped playing. Half the music was missing. The melody had disappeared altogether, and all that remained was some rhythmic accompaniment. Several players were grinning as they lowered their instruments.

She stopped conducting, and the orchestra trailed off.

"Good," Mr. Menlos called out. Sandra looked up in surprise, and then her heart returned to the floor as she realized he was addressing himself to the orchestra, not to her.

"Thank you for not coming in," he said to them, before looking her in the eyes. "Sandra, you need to cue people. They don't have the score in front of them to follow along and know when to come in. That's up to you. We can hope that they would actually count," he said exaggeratedly, and several people sniggered, "but we know that's never going to happen."

Sandra nodded faintly, wondering how people conducted full symphonies of complicated music. She couldn't even get through a minute of this simple piece without having the thing crash and burn.

"Okay, enough torture for one day," Mr. Menlos announced. "Dismissed. Who's next? I don't know who Robert Freni is. Are you here?"

Sandra walked back to her seat as Robert made his way up to the podium. Her knees were shaking like she had been running for three hours straight.

-------

"I think I'm going to drop conducting," Sandra announced, when the three of them met for dinner after her class.

"Why?" Richard asked.

"I got up there first, out of everyone. I swear, I almost died!"

"Didn't go so well?" Emily asked, laughing.

"No, it didn't go at all! I'm clueless. I'm retarded, thinking I can get up there and conduct! I've never even really watched conductors at concerts. I have no idea what I'm doing. I can't even remember left from right."

"That bad, huh?"

Sandra held out her arm. "Look! I'm still shaking."

Emily shrugged. "It'll pass."

"Yeah, it'll pass, because I'm not going back. Traffic outside was coming to a complete stop, I was so red!"

Richard and Emily laughed, and patted her arm consolingly.

"I'm going to be famous for this episode, just watch."

"I haven't heard anything yet," Emily said. "Then again, it's only been a few hours..."

Sandra gave her a stricken look.

"Well, you do have enough things going on," Richard said.

"I know. I don't need to be freaking out about some elective. Tomorrow, I'm dropping. God, what was I thinking!"

"Go for it," Richard urged. "Oh, by the way, guess who's coming to audition here in March."

The girls shrugged.

"Arlene."

"Oh really? Is she going to wear panties at her audition?" Emily asked, tittering.

"Hey now ... I told you she was a little insane that night. She's actually a pretty normal girl. I want her to feel calm and welcome when she's here, and I'll need your help, not your barbs."

"Okay. But I couldn't help it," Emily said, grinning.

"I know. And it was funny," Richard admitted, laughing now.

"It might be the semester of ex-lovers," Sandra said.

"Why?"

"I talked to Billy and he's seriously considering coming up for the recital. He'll know for sure later in the semester, but I think it'll happen."

"Well, cool! Our audience continues to grow!" Richard said.

"Hey, is Viktoriya coming?" Emily asked him.

Richard shrugged. "I have no idea. I doubt it."

"Why didn't you call her when you were in New York?"

"Um ... I don't know. I don't have her number or anything. Why would I?"

"It was obvious you felt a connection with her," Sandra said.

Richard looked at them, and then raised a brow in consideration. "Well, we had a good time, but, you know..."

"Come on, Richard. I even I'm interested in meeting her, from what you told us," Sandra offered.

"If you weren't taken, you'd have totally been all over each other in that garden," Emily said.

"Maybe sooner, at the telescope," Richard admitted, grinning, before he turned serious again. "But really, I'm with you two. I'm not looking to add lovers..."

"It's not necessarily about sex," Emily said.

"You were the one who said we have a number of soul mates," Sandra added.

"Think of us three," Emily continued. "I don't know if it would be quite as amazing if it just any pair of us was together."

Richard conceded with nod. "Maybe not. I definitely don't want to find out, either."

"So what if we find more people to share our lives with?" Sandra asked him. "It can be in all different ways. Not just a physical thing."

Richard laughed. "I can barely handle the two of you, and you want more?"

They suddenly caught the girl at the next table looking at them. She turned her face back to her plate, smiling slightly.

Richard grimaced, and then the three of them laughed. They did keep their voices a little quieter, though.

"I see what you're saying," Richard said slowly. "But it seems like many times things go towards the physical, when you find that connection."

"True," Sandra agreed.

"Look at you and Allison," Richard said, and then grinned. "Then again, look at what that did to our relationship."

"See?" Sandra said, suddenly excited. "It's like Emily just said; things are dynamic when we interact with these other people."

"But what about the physical part? I mean, I never felt weird about you and Allison," Richard said.

"Me neither," Emily admitted.

"When it's right, it won't feel weird. Even..." Sandra paused.

"What?"

"Well, even your thing with Joel, Emily ... It was a weird night, but I don't think that was because of you being with him, at all. It was about what we were going through with school, and with us, and you getting attacked."

Emily shook her head emphatically. "No, that was a totally different thing than what we're talking about."

"Maybe," Richard said. "But it also really made our relationship stronger, too."

Emily shrugged. "It did ... But that night with him was a mistake. It wasn't some sudden spark I felt, like you did with Allison, or Viktoriya. I was just stupid."

"Not everyone in the pool is going to be someone we meet fresh. Some we may already have known."

"True," Richard agreed. "I've just never thought of things in this way."

"Well, I've known Joel for a long time, but..."

"I'm not saying he is," Sandra said. "I can't judge him based on that night."

Emily shrugged.

"So do you think at some point we'll be meeting others?" Richard asked.

"I'm sure of it."

"And what if something does happen, like with Allison?"

"If it's right, then it will be right," Sandra said. "But we need to always be honest, no matter what. Honest with ourselves, and with each other. If we do it for selfish reasons, then we're in trouble."

"Sounds like you have thought of this just a little bit," Richard said, grinning.

"I have. But I still don't know much, though."

"I think she's saying all this because she wants to hole up with Allison when she gets here," Emily joked.

"Emily! No, I'm being serious. I do know one thing: I love the two of you like nothing else. Whatever happens, we always need to share what we are feeling."

Emily grinned impishly. "Hmm ... We're going to have to be on good behavior those couple of days when everyone is here."

"Will people suspect anything?"

"I don't know. It may depend on how the recital goes..."

-------

The following morning, Sandra was just stepping out of the registrar's office when she spotted Mr. Menlos walking towards her. He was the last person she wanted to see, but he was unavoidable in the long hallway. She considered running away, but he called out to her.

"Ah Sandra. I need to speak with you. Do you have a minute?"

"Sure. But ... there's not really anything to talk about."

"Oh?" He frowned at her.

"I just dropped your class," she admitted apologetically. "I mean, I liked it, but I had twenty credit hours going, and I think it would have been too much for me."

Mr. Menlos laughed. "You liked it?" he asked, skepticism on his face.

Sandra relaxed her shoulders, and looked at him. "Okay, you're right. I was freaking out up there! But the part about twenty credit hours is true."

She smiled sweetly, hoping he'd understand.

"Well, don't be too hard on yourself. I've seen worse than that. If you had stood up there and known what you were doing, given your background, I would have been amazed. If you noticed, no one else did much better, really."

"I was too busy waiting to burst on fire to notice much after I got down from there."

"Ah, I see ... Well, I'm disappointed. I was going to ask if you would sing for us when we got to the Mozart opera excerpt."

"What do you mean?" Sandra asked, looking at him.

"If you wanted to sing the soprano part for that class."

"Oh."

"It does get easier," Mr. Menlos said gently.

Sandra shook her head. "I don't think that it's for me. I got up there and couldn't even think."

Mr. Menlos laughed. "You did look a little stunned. It was ... amusing, if you don't mind me saying so."

Sandra laughed nervously.

He spread his hands. "Well, I'm sorry you won't be with us. If you change your mind, or even if you still would like to at least sing, please let me know. It's not every day you get to sing with an orchestra. It will be a little repetitive, but still."

"Can I think about it?"

"Of course. Just let me know," he said, smiling.

Sandra watched him go, and she sat down heavily on a nearby bench.

He's not mean, really ... And he did say it would get easier... 

She finally stood up and entered the registrar's office.

I came to Wexford knowing I'd be challenged. What the hell is my problem... ?

"Could I have that drop form back, please?"

-------

"Can you show me the conducting patterns for the different meters?" Sandra asked Emily at dinner.

Emily looked at her for a moment. "I thought you were dropping."

"Changed my mind."

"Why?"

Sandra sighed. "I have no idea."

"Going to go back for more punishment, huh?"

"I guess. He said it would get easier."

"Maybe. But the pieces will get harder, too."

"I really want to learn, for some reason. And I'm still obsessed with that one Schoenberg piece."

Emily laughed. "Tell me about it. That's all we've listened to this last week!"

"Sorry. You can just change it if you get tired of it."

"Okay, good."

"So, can you show me those patterns?"

Emily smiled. "Somehow, I didn't think you'd drop out."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Just a feeling," she said cryptically.

Sandra looked at her, but before she could probe the remark, Emily was beating out three-four time.

-------

Three weeks passed, during which the editing of Mrs. Tertychnaya's album was finished. Dave initially received a moderate list of things to change on the first edit, from Jarrett and Irina. Despite feeling the pressures of school, Richard offered to fix them himself. He did not want to drop out of the project partway again, like he had during the recording sessions. Besides, he was beginning to realize that knowing how to edit could one day come in handy.

After Richard performed the changes as requested, CDs of the new edit were passed around. This time, Jarrett and Irina were satisfied. Richard's part of the project was done. Dave was going to master the album and send it to the record company, and then within a few months, Mrs. Tertychnaya's new CD would be released.

The next thing Richard knew, Dave was handing him a check.

Richard glanced down, and opened his eyes wide.

"Is this just for the editing?"

Dave was grinning at him. "Yeah."

Richard turned the check towards Dave, pointing at the number.

"You worked a whole bunch of hours, Richard, and the rate the record company pays is much higher than what you get here recording recitals."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure! Just take the money and run, man!"

Richard did. When he got to his dorm room, he pulled the check out of his pocket again, staring at the number one last time.

After smiling in satisfaction, he slid the check into his desk drawer, and then lay on his bed, considering what to use the windfall for. Another night at the Concorde? He decided to keep the amount a secret from the girls, for now.

There was a knock on his door as he was about to drift off.

"Come in," he called out.

"Hi," Sandra greeted, as she entered the room.

"Hey. What's up? Class go all right?"

"This conducting thing is driving me crazy. It seems like I'm spending all my time on it, for some reason," Sandra said wearily.

"Why?" Richard asked, as he moved over to let her lie down next to him on his bed.

"Because I suck at it."

"Can you still drop?"

She looked over at him with an offended expression.

"Guess not," Richard said.

"I actually really like it. It scares the shit out of me every time I get up there, but it's exhilarating, too. Mr. Menlos has taught me a lot. I actually got through the piece today. Hanging on for dear life, but I got through it without having it spontaneously turn into a twentieth century atonal composition."

Richard laughed. "Well, that's a step forward!"

"But for a one credit hour course, it's sure kicking my butt."

"How is counterpoint going?"

"Fine. It's pretty formal. I have to write an invention for next Monday."

"Like a Bach invention?"

"Yeah. Two parts. Do you know any of them?"

"I've played them, a long time ago."

"Cool. I need to write one in that style."

"Let me know if you want me to play it when you have something."

"Thanks."

Richard paused. "Then again, you can just play it in your head, right?"

Sandra laughed knowingly. "Yeah. But that's not as fun as watching you play."

Richard squeezed her hand.

The phone rang.

Sandra started to move to let Richard up, but he held her down.

"I'm too tired to get up. Let the machine get it."

After the fourth ring, William's voice sounded over the speaker.

"Richard ... Saint Richard ... Got the package today. Unbelievable. I don't know what else to say, except you made my year. Call me..."

There was a long period of silence. Richard waited for the machine to shut off, but then William's voice continued, sounding tighter.

"Did you listen to twenty-five, number seven? I mean really listen? I think you said you were playing that one. I'm choking up just thinking about it. She's ... brilliant. You are one lucky bastard to be studying with her. I — I have to go..."

There was a click, and then the machine went silent.

"Who was that?"

"William, my friend in New York. I guess he got the CDs I sent him," Richard said, grinning.

"He sounds like a character."

"He is. We've always gotten along, but over break it was a little different."

"Hmm?"

"He was a little more ... childish, in a funny kind of way. He's like the classic polite rich New York gentleman, when you first get to know him. But, he also has this kind of funny crude side to him that I never saw before. I told him about us."

Sandra turned to him. "About you, me, and Emily?"

"Yeah. He'd never tell anyone, don't worry."

"What did he say?"

"He was intrigued, to say the least. You could see his mind going around as he imagined things."

"Have you told anyone else?" Sandra asked.

"No. You?"

"No. I think people have to suspect, though."

"Yeah, you're probably right. We've been a little less careful lately. But so it is. I don't really care anymore."

Sandra had her eyes closed. "I'm going to fall asleep, if I stay like this."

"Fine with me."

"No, I can't," she said, starting to rise. "I'll regret it later."

"All right. I guess we can rest when we're dead."

"Sure feels that way, doesn't it?" Sandra said, smiling tiredly.

"Yeah. This semester is definitely tougher. Mrs. T. is driving me harder, for sure."

"Same here. I guess last semester was just a warm up."

"Yeah. Then again, we chose to do a recital. Maybe this is why they don't have first-years do them."

"True. It's our own damn fault," Sandra moaned.

"Are you regretting it?" Richard asked quietly.

Sandra breathed deeply, and then shook her head. "No, not at all. I didn't come here to put my feet up and watch other people play. Before I came to Wexford ... I told myself I was going to live this time to the fullest, you know? I had no idea what I was getting into. No idea that meant meeting you and Emily, and ... playing music with you both. It's a dream, really ... as hard as it is. I think about my friends sometimes, and wonder what they're going to be doing in a few years when they get out of school. Working the fields, sitting in an office ... And I realize how lucky we are."

Sandra turned to him, her eyes simmering. "I've felt things I've never felt before, Richard. Things so deep, that it makes my chest tight just thinking about it now. We get to live this ... this crazy, amazing life. I mean, there's just such a range of emotions that come with what we do. Sometimes, I'm just so overwhelmed I don't know how to handle it."

"I know exactly what you mean," Richard said quietly.

"I was looking at pictures of conductors in the library, earlier. It just made me start crying. We see all these musicians on stage all the time, in this completely public situation ... And yet, with some, you can see right inside them. They just play, or conduct, and you can see everything they've suffered through when they're off the stage. Everything they love, and hate, and feel ... It's through the music, in the end, that we connect to these people."

Richard held her gaze.

"I've felt that way, with you and Emily," Sandra said. "It's starting to come now, when we play together."

"I know. I've felt it too. It's like everything we've been through is coming out in our music."

"I just hope we can connect with the audience that way," Sandra said.

"We will, if we just keep working."

Sandra nodded slowly, relaxing the tension in her body. "I guess we should go eat so we can get back to that working thing."

Richard sniffed, closing his eyes. "Yup. Are you going to be okay?"

She nodded. "As long as things stay like they are, I'll be all right. I can't handle anything else right now, though."

"I know."

Sandra kissed him. It was a kiss full of emotion, and deep love.

"I'm missing you both," she whispered.

"Me too. In two days it's Valentine's Day."

Sandra sniffed. "Slash your birthday, slash Emily's birthday. What have we come to, that we're lumping our special moments together like that?"

Richard smiled wistfully. "Emily has orchestra rehearsal on mine, and..."

Sandra held out a hand. "I know. I know we need to, but it's still tough."

"We'll be all right. Just think, in less than two months, we'll be done with the recital, and things will be easier. We can relax then."

"No ... juries!" Sandra said, laughing through an anguished face.

"After this, juries will be a walk in the park."

"Finals..."

Richard shrugged in acknowledgment. "I know. It'll be crazy. At least, we have the summer. I still want to take you two to Italy with me. Somehow."

Sandra smiled at him. "I know. And right now, that's one of the things keeping me going."

Richard stood and offered her his hand. He pulled her up into a hug, and held her tight for a long time.

"Just remember, I love you, Sandra."

"I love you too, Richard. I really do."

-------

"What time is it?" Emily asked.

Richard noticed her eyes were a little red, and very tired.

"Eleven forty. I'm not sure I have another twenty minutes in me."

"Me neither. Let's just take it from the top, one more time," Emily said. "Then we'll go to bed."

Richard flipped back a couple of pages in his music, and looked at Emily expectantly. She put on the metronome, listened to it for a moment, and then clicked it up one notch.

"Getting there," she said.

"One hundred seems like it's going to be flying," Richard said, noting the tempo marking on his score.

"It's not an easy piece. But we'll make it."

She turned the metronome off, and put the horn to her lips.

They began to play. Richard accompanied her initial four measure melody, before he repeated it alone on the piano. As she prepared to enter with her next phrase, she stopped instead.

"Sorry," she said, lowering her horn and staring at the music.

"Done?" he asked, hope in his eyes.

"No. I'm just not sure we're playing it the same way."

"Do you want me to phrase it differently?"

"Maybe. Listen. Don't play."

Emily repeated her phrase twice.

"I think it's bar seven that's bothering me. It's a little unclear" she said, pointing to the measure in his music.

"Hmm ... I guess it could be my pedaling. I have that jump in the left hand and the inner melody with the right."

Richard played it a few times, trying some different fingerings and approaches.

"That's better," Emily said during one attempt. "Keep the melody legato if you can, so it doesn't get choppy."

Richard nodded, and highlighted the top notes so he'd remember to phrase it through the measure.

"I hope I'm not being a pest," Emily said suddenly.

"Pest?"

"I don't know. You're probably going to hate playing with me since I'm constantly nitpicking every measure."

"No, I think it's great."

"You're not getting annoyed?" she asked.

"Not at all. I'm still learning the piece, so I appreciate everything you can offer."

Emily nodded. "I guess I feel like I'm doing the same thing in the Serenade."

Richard shrugged. "We all contribute."

"I'm always suggesting things, and you two are really awesome because you just do them. But then later I feel like I'm being bossy." Emily looked down at the floor.

Richard smiled and turned around. "Em, don't worry about it. You have an eye for the details, which is awesome. Every time you point something out, I always think, 'Why didn't I hear that?' I don't think your being bossy or picky."

Emily looked at him. "Really?"

"Yeah. Just say what comes to you. I want to have the same relationship in our music that we have in other ways."

Emily nodded, clearly relieved. She moved her chair closer, leaning over to kiss him. Then she put her head on his shoulder.

"I just know it's hard having people telling you how to play. I'm used to it, playing in ensembles and orchestra, but I wasn't sure if you and Sandra were okay with it."

"So you're saying we're prima donnas?"

They both laughed.

"You didn't answer my question," Richard noted.

Emily just laughed again, rubbing her head on his shoulder.

"I guess that answers that."

Richard yawned, and Emily did the same.

"I just want to fall asleep right here," she said lovingly.

"Yeah. You know you're exhausted when these concrete floors start looking like the most comfortable thing you've ever seen. The other night I was one minute from lying down on the ground, while I was practicing. Luckily Sandra came by to see what I was up to."

"Wednesday night will be nice," Emily said.

"Sandra and I were talking earlier..."

"We're not practicing on our first Valentine's Day," Emily interjected with finality.

Richard chuckled. "No, we weren't suggesting that."

"Good. Because I need a break, and I need to be loved by both of you. The night at the Concorde was enough to keep me going for a while, and I know we've had couple of fun weekend nights, too. But..."

"We'll have fun. Let's ban all talk of the recital that night."

"Sounds good to me. What were you talking about with Sandra."

"Huh?"

"You said you were talking about Valentine's Day?"

"I don't remember now," Richard said, yawning.

"Okay."

"What do you want to do on Wednesday?"

Emily sighed. "Normally, I'd have some naughty thing to say right now, but I can't even think straight."

Richard murmured in agreement. "We might end up eating and just passing out."

"Sad as it sounds, that might be true."

"No, it won't. We're not even twenty yet, and here we are acting like we're about to choose our rooms at a nursing home. Fuck..."

Emily groaned, and stretched upright. "You're right. What happened to our fun nights playing games in the room until who knows what time? And after that we'd stay up another hour or two just kissing and touching and making love? Seems like it was years ago. We'd stay up until one or two with no problem."

"The recital happened. It's a bear. People weren't kidding when they said it was a lot of work. I love rehearsing, but it's also so draining. I'm having trouble seeing straight right now."

"And you have the most work of all."

"Well..."

"You do. Not only are you doing your solo stuff and playing the Serenade like me and Sandra, but you're also playing the accompaniment for both of us."

Richard shrugged. "I'd be jealous if someone else was up there with you."

Emily smiled. "Still, it's too much."

"I stayed light on the classes on purpose this semester. I'm not worried. I'll be tired, but I think I'm rounding the corner, now that things are getting into the fingers more ... I'm actually worried more about Sandra."

Emily looked at him for a moment. "Yeah, me too. She's starting to really wear down."

"We should massage her on Wednesday."

"She won't have it, since it's our birthday parties, too. She's going to want to be massaging us."

"Well, we'll just have to say we want our present to be her body so we can massage her."

"We can try." Emily seemed doubtful.

"She's really into this conducting thing, have you noticed?"

"How can I not? It's all she talks about, besides the recital."

"We should go watch her sometime."

"She doesn't want us to."

"I know. Maybe through the window."

Emily shrugged. "We have enough to do."

They looked at each other.

"Yeah, let's get out of here," Emily said, reading his mind.

Richard took her arm as she turned to put away her horn.

"Em, I love you. Don't stop being who you are, even if things get tough. Keep telling me what your thoughts are on my accompaniment. I want to do the best I can for you on the Sonata."

Emily's last bit of energy seemed to drain at his words. She hugged him awkwardly, still holding her horn. "You are the best, Richard. I'm so glad I'm working with you, and not someone else. You're going to spoil me, though, because at some point you won't be able to play for me."

"True. But for now, let's enjoy it. Sandra said that now is the time to live these feelings, and she's right. Let's make this recital kick ass."

"That sounds really hard right now! And really far away!"

"I know ... Let's go. I'm about to fall over."

They packed up and headed out, walking slowly in silence.

A door down the hall opened, and what appeared to be a brass quintet spilled out into the hallway and said goodbye to one member still inside. Four of the players turned and made for the stairwell.

As Richard and Emily passed the small rehearsal room, the light went off and a horn player came out into the hallway.

It was Joel Brent.

Eye contact was inevitable.

"Hey." Joel spoke first.

"Hi," Emily said. She stopped, so Richard did too.

There was a moment when no one knew what to say.

"What's up?" Joel asked her at last.

"Rehearsing."

"Same here."

"Cool..."

"What ever happened with you and the cops?" Richard asked directly, quickly tiring of the standoff.

Joel eyed him warily for a moment. "Nothing. Not yet, anyway. I never heard from them again."

"Sounds like they were just messing with you," Richard said.

"Yeah. I'm ... Joel," he said, putting his hand out.

Richard offered his hand after a moment.

"We've met, twice, but ... Richard."

"I know it's probably too late to say this, but I am sorry about how things went that night," Joel said to Emily. He also glanced quickly at Richard.

"I was just freaked out, you know. I was strung out, and I took it out on you. But I shouldn't have."

He looked at Richard. "Emily and I go way back. I'm not usually a dick. I was hardly sleeping back then, because my recital was a couple of weeks away."

Richard laughed, which surprised Joel. "We actually know exactly what you mean."

He blinked at Richard, and then remembered. "Oh, that's right ... you are giving a joint recital this semester. I just remembered you telling me, Emily."

"We're already beat, and we're still about two months away," Emily added.

"Second semester is tough," Joel said. "I had the hardest time that semester. I think there's some unwritten code here that the teachers take it easy the first semester, and then they rip into you after that."

"Sure feels like it," Richard said. He finally started feeling a little more relaxed. Joel seemed quite different, now that he wasn't facing a recital and jail time.

Richard wasn't sure which he'd choose, right then.

"It gets better, though," Joel said with a shrug. "Second year, you kind of get into the groove. You've passed your first-year juries, so you're pretty much through the weed out phase. And you're done with some of those annoying classes like piano class and English."

"Tell me about it," Richard said. "I still have to take one more elective, but it feels so nice not having to take English."

"Modern dance," Joel said confidently. "Easiest elective, trust me."

"I don't know. I can't dance to save my life."

"You just move around, pretty much do whatever you want. Heck, you can go in and say your dance is about a sack of potatoes that fell off a truck. Flail around for a second, and then lay there for five minutes. Easy A..."

Richard laughed. "Well, we'll see. I'd probably fail, and have to take a third elective."

"You can't fail that class. Anyway, we need to get out of the building. Are you two walking out the back?"

"Yeah."

"Me too. I'll walk out with you."

"So are you done, now that your recital is over?" Richard asked him, as they started making their way outside.

"Pretty much. Right now I'm just working on orchestra excerpts, and I have some auditions coming up. If they don't work out, I might stay and get a masters."

"Cool. Must be nice to be finished."

"Definitely. Your third and fourth years are the best. They're hard work, but hopefully your theory requirement is done, and you have a lot more time to practice."

"And a lot more time to make recital posters."

Joel frowned, and then laughed hard. "Yeah, did you see that?"

Richard grinned.

"See what?" Emily asked.

"Some girl photocopied the label of a St. Pauli Girl beer bottle, and then changed it so she was holding a bow and a violin instead of the steins," Richard said. "Also I think she enhanced the, uh, you know..."

"It's pretty damn funny," Joel said.

"Who did that?" Emily asked.

"Margo Downon."

"Oh, figures!" Emily dismissed. "She's such a tramp. I'm surprised you even noticed the violin, from the sound of it!"

"I don't know. I'm thinking about going, now," Joel said.

"Yeah, you would!"

"If she's going to dress like that..." Richard said, shrugging.

Emily gave him a foul look as he and Joel laughed.

Before she could say anything, Joel rescued him.

"So, when exactly is your recital?"

"April ninth," they both said at once.

"April ninth. April ninth ... Good. I probably don't have anything. I might try and come. What are you playing, Em?"

"Hindemith, and Britten's Serenade."

"Nice. The Hindemith is killer. Tough to pull off, but I bet you can do it."

Emily smiled a little. "Thanks, Joel."

"Well, I guess you're going to the dorm, and I'm going that way, so I'll catch you later, all right?"

Richard and Emily said goodbye, and then he headed off.

Once out of earshot, Emily spoke first.

"I actually knew that about the cops."

"Oh yeah?"

"He told me at the first orchestra rehearsal this year that he hadn't heard anything. I hadn't talked to him before that, but since we were playing the same concert, I kind of had to acknowledge him."

"You didn't tell us."

"Well, I guess I didn't. I put it out of my mind, since it wasn't really any news."

"No news is good news in this case. I think at this point, the incident is over. I wish they had found the bastards, but..."

"I'm glad the pawnshop didn't push it, and just took the horn for the hundred dollars."

"True. If they had questioned it, things might have gone differently. They might have taken the horn and ran. Who knows where it would be now?"

"Yeah, you're right. Scary..." Emily shivered at the thought. "Anyway, I'm glad Joel didn't get nailed."

"If you've seen him since, why did he just apologize tonight?"

Emily shrugged. "Maybe because you were glaring at him."

"I wasn't glaring!"

"You were, at first. I wasn't sure why you stopped walking. I was going to just say hi and keep going."

"What? You stopped! I was going to keep walking," Richard said, amused.

Emily laughed. "Man, you know it's late when we can't even agree on something like that."

"I wasn't glaring, really, but I did feel a little bristly for a few minutes."

"And then, I couldn't shut you up."

"What?" Richard exclaimed.

"You just started talking like you were old friends."

"I was tired of the awkward pauses. He did most of the talking."

"You went from bristly to chummy pretty fast."

Richard swiped his card at the dorm entrance, and let Emily pass.

"Well ... What do you want me to say? I'm not going to hold a grudge. I don't like the way he talked to you that night. But I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Unless you want me to be angry at him?"

Emily stopped in the hall, and turned to him. She put down her horn, and placed her hands on his shoulders.

"No. I'm just making sure you're not doing this for some weird reason."

"What weird reason?"

Emily thought for a long moment. Then she shrugged. "I don't know."

"I don't know either."

"What are we even talking about?" Emily asked, putting a hand to her eyes.

"I don't know," Richard said, chuckling. "It's obviously time for bed."

Emily laughed wildly, and then clung onto Richard as she fell against him.

"Look, there's the laundry room."

"So?" Richard said.

"Take me in there. Fuck me," she whispered deliriously.

"If I hadn't been with you the last four hours, I'd say you were completely drunk."

"We can do it on the washing machine. I have some quarters, somewhere. In here, I think. Wait, I feel something..."

Richard felt her hand snake into his pocket. He threw his head back and laughed. "I'm almost tired enough to say yes."

For a while Richard stood there, as Emily leaned against his chest.

"Emily?"

"Mmm. I'm falling asleep right here."

"All right, that's it."

"Carry me?" she asked in a tiny voice.

Richard laughed, and then squatted down and threw her over his shoulder. His arms and back protested, and Emily did as well.

"I was just kidding! Put me down!" she squealed.

Richard leaned down, and tried to grab Emily's horn.

It turned out to be much too late for games. Before he was even close to making contact with the handle, his legs gave way and they fell down in a heap.

Richard groaned, while Emily just laughed uncontrollably. He closed his eyes, unwilling and unable to move. The hard floor was comfortable, after all, now that he finally was trying it out.

After what seemed like an hour, Emily finally stopped her laughing.

"We're so lame. We can't even get up to the room," she said, setting off another peal of laughter.

"This is ridiculous."

"You're a comfy bed. I think I'm going to sleep here."

"We've gone crazy."

There were several minutes of silence. Richard shook her.

"Quit it!" she murmured. "I'm trying to sleep."

The door to the building suddenly opened.

"Dude ... What the fuck?"

Richard looked up at an upside-down Jer and Jenna, relieved it was them.

"Hey," he said nonchalantly.

"What are you doing on the floor?" Jer asked.

"I don't know," Richard said.

"We're sleeping here," Emily said.

"Do you ... like, need help?" Jenna asked, giggling.

"No."

They all looked at each other for a while.

"All right," Jer dismissed, shrugging. They stepped over and disappeared around the corner. "That's just fucking weird," his voice carried down the hallway.

"Get up Em, before we get trampled."

"Come on, there's hardly any traffic here at midnight."

Richard started to push her off, and Emily finally responded.

Silently, they gathered their things and walked up the thousands of steps to the second floor.

Emily opened the door. They were surprised to see a light on.

"Oh, shit! Look ... We thought we were tired!"

Richard pushed into the room and laughed. "That's actually kind of cute."

Sandra was asleep.

She was at her desk. Her hand still held a pencil, and her head was lying on some music paper. Richard went over, and slid the paper out from under her. There were only six notes on it. At the top it said 'Invention.'

He grinned and passed it to Emily, who was already undressed and putting on her nightshirt.

She took it, and laughed as well.

"Must have been tiring to write so much music."

Richard shook Sandra's shoulder. It took more than he expected to rouse her.

Suddenly she came to, and snapped her head up. She looked around in confusion for a few seconds.

"Whoa ... What... ?"

"Bedtime," Richard said gently.

She looked down at the desk. "Oh. I thought I wrote my Invention. Where is it?"

"Here," he said, handing back the paper. He was disrobing. "It looks really hard. Let me know if you want me to play it for you tomorrow."

"Oh, no!" she cried. "I must have been dreaming. I thought I finished it! What time is it?"

"Midnight."

"Crap, I just wasted two hours ... You two look beat," she said, as she observed their movements.

"Funny that, coming from someone who fell asleep at their desk."

Sandra stood up. She trudged to her closet, and stood there staring at the closed doors for a while debating whether the effort was worth the comfort. Instead of opening the doors, she just slipped off her shoes and got under her sheets.

"To sleepy to change," she explained. "Get the lights when you go to bed?" she added.

Neither Richard or Emily heard her.

-------

Another week passed slowly, and also quickly. The one night break to celebrate the three February milestones was only a temporary relief from the grueling semester. Even their sexual interactions were different now. Their usual playful and physical romps were replaced by slow, clinging lovemaking sessions, which ended in exhausted sleep.

The exhaustion carried over into all parts of their lives, as they worked through their full schedules.

Sandra found herself struggling to stay awake in Dr. Dobra's class. She eyed the clock, happy to see only a few minutes remaining. Another long Monday is close to being over,  she thought, starting to feel relieved.

She'd probably have to fight her way through a few minutes of the Beethoven symphony in conducting class, but she had prepared enough that she wasn't too worried about that. The rest of the time she would be able to relax in her corner seat. I'll make sure to get Mr. Menlos's attention, so I can go first... 

Her only worry was possibly falling asleep on the podium. Even though her five Monday classes occupied only six hours of class time, she really had a full ten hour block of work before dinner. If she wanted to get any meaningful practicing in, she had to eat during piano class and practice during both two hour slots she had in between classes. Practicing after dinner on Mondays was useless. She had tried that twice, and returned to the room crying both times. She was grateful that Emily had a free hour to grab some food from Crapler to bring to piano class, and that their teacher did not mind the intrusion of a sandwich or bowl of pasta.

At last Dr. Dobra dismissed them, and she hastily threw her notebook into her bag. She was walking to the door when he called out to her.

"Sandra, do you have a minute?"

She came over to the piano. He was sitting at the keyboard.

"Sure. What's up?"

Dr. Dobra fingered a few atonal chords, and then looked up at her.

"Have you considered adding a second major?"

She stared at him. "Second major?"

"We do have a theory major here at Wexford. Few people do it, perhaps one or two every year. It's quite challenging, naturally."

"I ... I never thought about it."

"You should. You would have no trouble completing the requirements. It would require you taking some additional courses beyond the standard two year sequence everyone takes. But you are already ahead, and by squeezing in counterpoint this semester, even more so. You could gain a lot by doing it."

Sandra took a deep breath. "I..."

Dr. Dobra smiled. "You don't have to decide right now. I'm sure you have more than a few things on your mind. You look quite tired. But ... I just wanted to plant the seed. We are a month into the semester already, and soon you'll be deciding what to take next year. You will, of course, be finished with the required theory core after this semester. But, I urge you to consider going on."

"What happens in the next level classes?"

"We continue with some of the same types of exercises: dictations, analysis, and so forth. Naturally it gets more and more complex. I've yet to see you pushed hard in the ear training area, to tell the truth, so you may breeze through it. Still, we do other things, like learn to sight sing in more clefs, sight read from orchestra scores at the piano, analyze interesting compositions ... Lots of fun things like that. Well, I don't know if you find that sort of thing fun, but..."

"It does sound interesting. I don't know ... I'm swamped as it is this semester. I can't imagine doing anything more."

"Well, nothing would change for this semester, and next semester you would just add a seminar course we hold for theory and composition majors. And take two theory classes, but that's the same as you are doing now."

"Are the advanced classes tiny? You said there's only a handful of majors in the whole school."

"True, but the upper level ear training courses are open to anyone who has completed the core. You'd be surprised how many people do actually take them, especially the fifth and sixth level classes. A lot of master's and doctoral candidates ... They realize how important theory can be to helping their playing."

Sandra shrugged. "Well, I'll think about it, for sure."

Dr. Dobra nodded and smiled. "I can help you add the major if you want. Just let me know."

"Okay. Thanks."

Sandra hurried to conducting class, realizing she was already two minutes late. She considered Dobra's offer for a few moments, before putting it out of her head for the moment.

I don't have time to even think about that,  she said to herself, as she began to run through the Beethoven symphony in her head.

-------

Richard was listening to Emily demonstrate something she was having trouble with in the Hindemith Sonata, when the door opened.

"Oh, I so need a break!" Sandra wailed as she wearily plodded into the room, tired from conducting class and the rest of her day. She barely had dropped her bag to the floor when she collapsed onto her bed. Her position looked uncomfortable, but she was too tired to change it. Richard went to close the door.

"Not a rest in sight until spring break in three weeks," Emily said, smiling consolingly at her. "Birthdays are over."

"I don't know if I'm going to make it that far! Besides, it won't even be a break. I need to be here, practicing, and catching up with things. There's no way I can go home. I already told my parents I'm not coming. I'm so behind! I'm still not even close to having my Invention done. Luckily Dobra gave everyone another week. Who's idea was it to take twenty credit hours?"

"We warned you," Emily said, as she put her horn down and went over to hug her. "You look beat."

"I am. First Dobra asked if I wanted to add a theory major."

"What?"

"Add a theory major," Sandra repeated.

"What's that about?" Emily asked.

"I don't even really remember what he said. The whole time I was just thinking, No! I can't even consider that until after the recital."

"Crazy."

"Yeah. Then Mr. Menlos had me on the podium for like half the class, conducting through the Beethoven. I think he picks on me because I have a disability with my patterns. I start out fine, and then it comes time to give cues and all that, and my arm starts doing something else."

"It's the whole rub the head, pat the tummy thing," Emily agreed.

"Arrgh. It's frustrating, is what it is! How hard can it be?"

"Hard. Otherwise everyone would be doing it."

"I guess." Sandra beat out a pattern. "This movement thing just gets in the way ... See! I can't even talk and not mess it up. I wish I could just forget the stupid baton and just communicate through ESP or something!"

Emily laughed. "Some conductors seem to do that."

"I actually had a great version of the Beethoven playing in my head when he called on me. Then I got up, and it sounded nothing like that. Nothing! I couldn't tell the players what I wanted."

"It's like anything, Sandra. You need to practice the technique to get the music out. It must be the same in conducting. This is only, what, the fourth or fifth class?"

"Fifth. I know, I know ... I just want to be good at it, but I'm not."

"Well, don't go crazy. You don't want to burn out," Richard said. "Speaking of burning out, I've been thinking. I got paid way more than I thought for the editing on Mrs. T's album. What if we hang out here the first part of spring break, and then we rent a car and drive to New York? We can catch a few concerts, or an opera or something? It would be fun. I think we could use a little change up in what we're doing, and a little inspiration. Whenever I stand at the fountain at Lincoln Center, I remember why I play music."

The girls looked at him. "Can we really do that?"

"Why not?"

"It's a little far to drive," Emily noted.

"I shouldn't," Sandra said. "I really need that time."

"You need a break. Short. We'll go out Thursday, come back Sunday. It will be really fun. Road trip."

The girls looked at each other.

"Do you have some big surprised planned again?" Sandra asked him with narrowed eyes.

Richard laughed. "Like I have the time to do that, right now! No, sorry ... There's no hidden agenda. Besides, three nights in a hotel room like the Concorde in New York would eat up my editing check in a flash."

"It sounds like just what we'll be needing in three weeks," Emily agreed, glancing at Sandra.

"We'll stay at my folk's house," Richard said. "My piano is there, if we're really dying to rehearse. But I suggest we take the four days off."

"A change of scenery would be nice. I say we do it. I'll chip in, too," Emily said.

"All right, I'm in too," Sandra agreed. She suddenly seemed to gain energy as she sat up. "It actually sounds like a heavenly idea right now. What will we go see?"

"We need to find some concert schedules," Emily said.

"I know just who to call," Richard said, smiling.

-------

"Hello?"

"William? It's Richard."

"Richard! How are you?"

"I'm good. You?"

"Excellent. Do you hear what's playing in the background?"

Richard laughed. "You're going to wear it out."

"It's a CD, luckily."

"True. Glad you are still enjoying it."

"Oh, I am. And the other CDs as well, but I'm still fascinated by the Etudes at the moment."

"Good. Hey, what's going on out there, the weekend of March fifteenth?"

"March fifteenth? Let me see ... I have a hair appointment..."

"Not with you, William. In New York. I want to take Emily and Sandra to see a concert or something. We're on break and we're coming out for a few days."

"Oh, good! I get to meet your two muses!"

"Who said you were invited?" Richard retorted with a laugh.

"Heh heh ... Touché. Hold on. My schedules are in the kitchen."

Richard suddenly felt a lot less tired as he held onto his grin.

William returned after a minute. "Let's see here. Friday night, we have Elektra, and... Carmen on Saturday night. That's at the Met, of course ... Ooh, aren't you lucky! Because on Friday..." William paused to increase the suspense. "Emperor Concerto at the New York Phil with Reston!"

"That's it!" Richard said simply. "Look no further."

"That does look tasty," William agreed. "When are you coming out?"

"Um ... Probably we'll drive out Thursday, get in late. We'll take off Sunday morning."

"You could see two concerts, if you wanted to," William suggested. "Three even, if you want to hit the matinee at the Met. They're doing La Forza. You know, the Italian Jedi opera."

"Very funny ... I think the Phil will be good. I'll take them around the city on Saturday."

"Your friends might want to see something besides piano music. The Reston concert could be taken as a selfish choice on your part. Trust me, I've been there!"

Richard laughed. "What else is on that program, by the way?"

"A newly commissioned symphony by Holmeese. I've heard some of her other works. It's up and down, for me, but you never know. Could be amazing ... Or not."

"Okay, what else? An opera would go over big with Sandra," Richard admitted. "Actually, it's probably a must. She's only been to the Met once."

"Well, you do have the Met, like I said. Hmm ... If you like ballet, there's Romeo and Juliet on Saturday night. Oh, wait a second ... That's going to be good, too. They're using Neumeier's 1974 choreography. God, I'm going to have to go see that at some point."

"That sounds interesting."

"Oh, it will be more than interesting. Very dramatic version, and the Prokofiev score is exceptional, of course. Well worth considering, Richard. Nothing like a little romantic tragedy for your women. They'll be in the palm of your hand after that. Take it from me: if you just go to the Reston, you'll end up with something else in your palm that weekend."

"All right, fine, I get the point! I don't remember you being this..."

"Vulgar... ?" William supplied.

" ... vulgar, when I was living there."

"You're an adult now. That comes with a new set of challenges to deal with." William laughed, and then stopped abruptly. "Okay, enough. I need to get back to listening to this CD. What are you going to pick?"

Richard weighed the options. "Choices, choices. Why do there have to be so many good things at once?" he lamented.

"It's New York," William said patiently. "And we haven't even looked outside of Lincoln Center yet!"

"Don't," Richard said, unwilling to hear more temptations. He decided quickly. "We'll do the Met on Friday, ballet on Saturday. That way we'll see something different than usual."

"But ... the Reston concert?"

"I've seen him before. Plus, this is for my friends, like you said. Sandra's obsessed with late romantic music lately, so Strauss and Prokofiev will be perfect. She's been playing this one piece every day since we got to school."

"What's that?"

"Some Schoenberg piece for strings. I've blocked the name out of my head."

"Verklaerte Nacht?"

"Yeah, that. Emily and I have banned it while we're in the room."

William laughed. "You and Emily definitely won't want to come around here, then. Unless you really like the CDs you sent me."

Richard laughed. "Can you get us tickets?"

"When did I become a box office?" William asked, trying to sound offended.

"Go ahead and get four tickets," Richard answered dramatically.

William laughed. "No, I was kidding. You don't need an old fart tagging along on your dates."

"Yes we do. Really. The girls are a load of fun, and they'll like meeting you. Sandra thinks you sound like a character."

"Does she? Hmm ... It's too bad you weren't out here last month. I saw a great ballet about a man who went back and forth between two women. Very sensual. Would have been right up your alley."

"I don't go back and forth, William. Well, that's not necessarily true..."

"Do go on... ? Please, I'm all ears."

"Just get us the tickets, man," Richard said, laughing. "Wait, do they even let kids like you into the theatre anyway?"

"All right, all right, very funny!" William paused. "Can I call Arlene and make it five?"

"Arlene? Are you and her... ?"

"Richard! I know I still look like I'm in my twenties, but I'm sixty-seven, for God's sake!"

"Two words..." Richard said, grinning. "Lindsey Walker."

"You, my friend ... are a fucker!"

"You know, I don't think I've ever heard you say that before. Eloquently put, William."

William laughed richly. "I'll get us tickets. Four, or five, depending on Arlene. Take care of her when she comes out in a few weeks, huh?"

"I will."

"She could use some support. She's still not recovered from the torture that bastard Smith put on her."

"Don't worry. I'll try to keep her calm for the audition. Thanks for helping her out with picking some teachers, by the way."

"It was my pleasure ... You're a good man, Richard," William said, his voice serious. "Most would have pushed her away."

Richard didn't have an answer.

"Well, I'll call you later to confirm. Where do you want to sit, by the way? Cheap, or loge?"

"Somewhere decent in between. I'm not going to drive all the way out there to suffer in Family Circle."

"Okay, I'll make it good."

"Thanks. Oh, and uh, Arlene doesn't really know about my situation with the ladies. Not yet anyway."

"What situation?" William said, laughing.

"Good man. Okay ... You're in charge of the tix. This will be fun."

"I agree. Take care."

"Bye."

Richard hung up the phone. He found himself wanting to leave for New York at that moment.

He sighed. Off to practice again... 

-------

"Mm. This waffle is really good," Richard said, chewing slowly.

"Really?" Sandra asked, as she went to eat the first bite from hers.

"No, not really."

Sandra sighed. "Well, I'm just glad the cafeteria is open at six."

"I'm not. Then I'd have no excuse to get up."

"Like we need more excuses," Emily said.

Sandra pulled a sheet of paper out of her bag.

"We need to finalize the program so they can print them up."

Richard pulled the paper towards him, and held out his hand. "Do you have a pen?"

"Here."

Richard started filling out the information. "Whose name gets listed first?"

"Sandra, me, you," Emily said. "That's standard form for the instruments we play."

"Okay ... So, songs. Which are you going to do first?"

"Are we sure we want to start with the songs?" Sandra said. "They're all kind of melancholy. Maybe Emily should go first."

"No. My dad always said to start with something familiar if you can. He's programmed a million concerts, so I trust him. The Hindemith is too modern. I think the songs are perfect."

"I could go first," Richard said.

"Hmm. But then the second half would be both the vocal pieces. The Serenade has to go last, right?"

"It ends with my Epilogue. Is it weird to end the concert with a long solo horn call?"

Richard rubbed his chin. "I don't know. Not necessarily..."

They considered the choices for a moment. At last, Richard spoke.

"I think we should stick to the original plan we figured out last year. It made sense then, when things were fresh. We're obsessed with the recital now, so we're going to be nitpicking everything."

The girls nodded knowingly. "You're right."

"So, Sandra, Emily, intermission, me, Serenade?"

"Perfect. That's standard order for our names, too," Sandra noted.

"Told you," Emily said grinning.

"Sandra, are you doing the Strauss song, then?"

"No. I'm just going to do the Wolf lieder," she said, resignedly. "I don't know if I can pull the Strauss off, with everything going on. We're just missing something on that one, and I don't know what it is."

"Me?" Emily suggested.

Sandra patted her sweetly.

"I'm not sure I'm doing my best on the piano part," Richard said. "Maybe we can get a better arrangement.

"No, it's not you at all. I'm just not singing it right. I haven't captured the feeling. And I don't want to risk not having it in April, so it's out."

Richard nodded slowly in acknowledgement, and then he took down the names of the pieces they were playing, checking the spellings and movement indications carefully. After a last proofread, they were satisfied.

"Well, it'll be official in a few days," Sandra said, putting the paper back into her bag.

They smiled at each other, feeling like the concert was suddenly closer.

-------

The three of them stood in front of the corkboard in the main hallway of the conservatory. It was crowded with pinned up recital and concert programs, arranged by date. It took them a moment to find it amidst the sea of sheets.

"Look, there it is!" Sandra exclaimed.

They all grinned as they examined their program.

"Looks good to me," Richard said.

"Yeah. We should probably put a few up somewhere else. No one's going to pick ours out, in this," Emily said, waving at the board.

"Let's go to the events office and pick up some extras after we rehearse."

Richard pulled the girls close to him on either side.

"I'm really excited. I can almost imagine it."

"I'm glad we're doing this."

"It's going to be awesome. Things are finally coming together."

Armed with renewed excitement, the trio headed off towards the practice rooms.



-------

Chapter 29: Rondo


"So what's the plan for this weekend?" Emily asked, startling Richard. She had been napping.

Richard looked up from Emily's desk. Sandra was also stirring. He had imposed a mandatory nap the last few days, since sleep had been minimal. It was appearing to work, since moods were shifting towards the positive over the past few days.

"Well ... Arlene gets here tomorrow..." Richard said vaguely.

"We know that!"

"Sorry. My head is still in this chord analysis." Richard closed the book, and stretched. "I was thinking dinner tomorrow night."

"Are we a part of that?" Sandra asked.

"I'd like you to be."

"Why don't you two go out alone?" Emily suggested. "If we all four go out, you're going to have to tell her about us, since you've already been leaking info to her."

"Yeah, I've thought about that. It could be a good distraction for her, though."

"Or when she finds out you're playing trios, she might think of nothing else all weekend."

"You don't want her to be in the middle of her audition, and suddenly start wondering about us. We'll hang tomorrow night, after she's done," Sandra agreed.

Richard sighed. "Okay, I should focus on her before the audition."

"Where is she staying?"

"The Marriott down the road."

"You could have offered her your room, since you basically live here now."

Richard laughed. "I told you ... kick me out when you get tired of me."

"Eh ... I'm too lazy to help you move all your stuff back to your room, or I would," Emily said.

"All my stuff? Whatever. I just have some clothes here, a couple of books..."

"All your CDs, most of a case of champagne..." Emily said.

Richard got hit by something soft.

"Pillow," Sandra added.

"All right, I'm getting the message. I'll get out of your hair."

"Actually, you missed the message completely," Emily said, laughing. "You're not just in our hair, you are ... our ... hair? Okay, that didn't work..."

Sandra giggled. "What Emily is trying to say is that we should think about what we're doing next year."

"Next year? I just figured out what I'm doing tomorrow."

"We're probably not going to be in the dorm. We could, but it's hard to get a spot as a second year."

"Oh. I guess you're right," Richard said.

"Want to rent a house together?"

Richard just looked back and forth between them. "Oh. So that's what you were talking about. I was about ready to pack up my junk."

"Don't be silly," Sandra said, dismissing his words. "All the houses nearby are starting to put up 'For rent' signs. Seems like we need to be looking."

"I haven't noticed," Richard said quietly. "Or thought about it."

"That's why you have us," Emily said patiently.

"If you want your own place, we won't be offended."

"Speak for yourself, Sandra!" Emily chided.

"Well, since I basically live here..."

"Don't sound too excited about it," Emily deadpanned.

"I'm kind of in shock, actually. I mean ... wow."

"So?"

Sandra and Emily looked expectantly at him.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Sure you can live with a couple of girls?" Emily asked.

"Hell yeah!" Richard said. His smile had been growing, and now he jumped up and pulled them up out of their beds.

"We'll need a big bed," he said. "I'm tired of having to take sides every night, or sleep alone."

"Mm hm. I think we've convinced him," Sandra said to Emily, as they all hugged and laughed in the middle of the room.

"Maybe we can look at a few places Sunday, after Arlene takes off," Richard said.

"That would be fun. A little break to look forward to."

They smiled, and held each other tightly.

"Damn, I have to go to class," Richard said at last.

"Skip," Emily said immediately.

"You know how Dobra is," he said, his words trailing off as Emily disappeared from the hug.

"He'd understand, if he were here right now," Sandra said, as her hand reached its target.

"I don't know if he would, actually ... Oh, you two are bad girls."

"Can you live with two..." Emily did something delicious to him. " ... two very bad girls?"

"I don't know. Is this going to happen every time I try to leave the house?" he asked.

"Quite possibly," Sandra answered, since Emily couldn't speak.

"Then it's definitely a go," he said, grinning.

Sandra made a face. "Hey, you will need to behave and go to class," she warned. "Can't have you being kicked out of school. We'll need the rent money."

Richard made a surprised face. "I was trying to leave, but then I got trapped here by — Oh, Emily, that's ... No, don't stop..."

"Okay, go to class," Emily said, standing suddenly and wiping her mouth.

"We didn't mean to trap you." Sandra playfully pushed him away from them.

Richard shook his head. "Very funny. But not funny."

He moved towards them, and they backed away with quick steps, looking at him with scared eyes.

"He doesn't look very trapped," Sandra said in a small voice.

"Not at all," Emily agreed, as they were now huddling in the corner behind the desk.

Emily placed a finger to her pursed lips, and then moved the chair in front of them to block access to their little space.

"Do you two plan this stuff, or what?" Richard asked, seeming to be exasperated.

"What stuff?" Sandra asked innocently. "You were the one who said you were trapped!"

"And now you have us cornered..."

"Forced us to hide in here..."

"Good thinking with the chair, Em."

"What are you going to do with us?"

"Or are you going to go to class, like you said?"

Richard grabbed the chair and flung it around behind him. The girls giggled, and then pretended to cower in fear as Richard rolled his eyes and stepped close to them.

"I'm going to bend you over the desk, and pound this silliness out of you both."

"Oh, then we better keep being silly for a long time," Emily said to Sandra.

"If he makes us miss class, though, I'm going to be pissed," Sandra added.

Then Richard grabbed them and did as he promised.

-------

Richard felt slightly apprehensive as he walked the six blocks from the dorm to the Marriott. He wondered which Arlene would make an appearance tonight. All indications over the phone were that the bad Arlene was still on that balcony on Thirty-third Street. But Richard was never good at judging people over the phone.

When he reached the lobby, Arlene was waiting with a big smile.

Looks good so far,  Richard thought. Her dress was modest, and her smile was happy.

She ran towards him and hugged him tightly.

"Oh, Richard, thanks for meeting me. It's so good to see a familiar face, after an audition full of strangers."

"Glad you're here safe, Arlene. Was the drive all right?"

"Fine. Tiring, but no problems."

"I won't keep you out until three, then."

"Oh, whatever!"

Richard smiled at her. "Hungry?"

"Starving."

"There's a good place about ten blocks away. Drive, or walk?"

"Walk. I've been driving all day."

Richard nodded, and led her out to the street. "Let's go, then!"

"How did Curtis go yesterday?" he asked, as they started walking.

"I thought I played well."

"Good."

"But, I wasn't sure about the teacher. He kind of reminded me of Mr. Smith."

"That's not good."

"It was just his looks, but for some reason it bothered me."

"Well, then it bothered you. That's valid enough. How are you feeling for tomorrow?"

"Good, I think. I've been using William as a teacher this last month, like I told you."

"Why not Mr. Schatten?"

"I don't know," Arlene said vaguely.

"Okay."

"William knows more than I thought about playing piano."

"He does. He can't play it like we can. Not quite, but he knows about it well enough."

"And my arm hasn't acted up in weeks. I can't tell you what a relief it is to not be feeling that pain just under the surface." Arlene rubbed her arm absently. "It was like I couldn't relax the muscles, no matter what I did. They were just tight all the time, no matter how I held my arm or hand. Even staying still seemed like it was taking effort."

"That sounds like it would suck."

"It does. Trust me, of you ever feel that coming on, figure it out. A few people I've talked to say it doesn't get better by playing through it. You can actually damage your arms forever."

"Scary."

"Yeah. I just hope I didn't reach that point."

"I sure hope not. But you are doing better..."

"Yeah. Anyway, let's talk about something else."

"Sure. First, do you still have to leave on Sunday? There's a good pianist giving his recital that night. It would be fun to go with you if you were still here."

"Thanks, but yeah, unfortunately I need to get home for a thing, so I'll be out of here early on Sunday. But I'll see you in a couple of weeks, right? You're still coming out to New York?"

"For sure."

"Who's coming out with you?"

"Um, my girlfriend ... Why?"

"I saw five tickets when I was at William's house last week."

"Oh ... My, uh, dad might come too."

"Oh cool! I haven't seen him in forever. Where is your lady tonight, anyway?"

"Sandra? She had to practice."

"That's too bad. I wanted to meet her."

"We'll hang out tomorrow night."

"Okay. It must be nice to be able to work with someone you like, for your recital."

"Yeah, it's great. She's a really amazing singer. Beautiful voice."

Arlene frowned at him.

"What?" Richard asked.

"Singer?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I thought you said she played French horn."

Richard looked at her. "When did I say that?"

"When we were in New York."

"You must be confused."

Arlene laughed. "I know I was drunk, but I swear that's what you said. I even pictured her, holding a horn."

So much for focusing on her,  Richard thought, sighing.

"Did you make her up, just so I would stop coming onto you?" Arlene suddenly asked, her eyes mischievous.

"No, no." Richard looked at her, considering.

"What?"

"I wasn't going to say anything until tomorrow, but what the hell. You seem pretty relaxed."

"Huh?"

"I didn't want to distract you from your audition by having them come out with us tonight."

Arlene raised a brow. "Them?"

"Sandra ... and Emily."

Arlene narrowed her eyes at him.

"Emily is my girlfriend, and yes, she plays the horn," Richard added.

"Are you telling me... ?"

Richard shrugged.

"No way!"

"Yeah. They're both coming to New York."

"But ... How? Why?"

"Why? Why not? How ... is a little trickier, though."

"You're messing with me."

"Nope."

"You really are in ... some weird love triangle? You have two girlfriends?" Arlene asked, incredulous.

Richard was glad to see some amusement in her eyes.

"I never said it was weird," he corrected. "But other than that, yeah."

She shook her head. "Wow..." She turned to Richard with amused eyes again. "Well, let's go get them. The cat's out of the bag now. I want to meet them!"

"Um..."

"Can we swing by the school? Then we can go on to dinner."

Richard laughed. "You make it sound like a freak show!"

Arlene laughed as well. "Sorry. But it is interesting ... Is this what I missed by living at home last semester?"

Richard smiled impishly. "Probably not. I don't think it's the norm."

"Oh. I didn't know if it was some musical thing, since you're always playing in ensembles and stuff."

"We are doing the recital together," Richard confirmed. "But we just met early on, and we've been together ever since."

"How does that even happen?"

"You know, I'm not sure. I don't think any of us were thinking it would end up this way."

"But at what point did, you know, things happen? Did you start out with one, and then the other one came into the picture?"

"No. They're roommates. Somehow I ended up meeting them, and we hung out a lot. I liked them both. Things just kind of progressed."

"Do they get jealous of each other?"

"No. They're really close. Once the first questions passed, it's felt just right ever since. It is a little different at times, but..."

Arlene shook her head, as she processed the information. "How many people know about this?"

"We've hardly told anyone. William knows; that's why he got the five tickets."

"You could have said they were just friends."

"William knew already. I told him in New York."

"And you didn't tell me?"

Richard smiled. "I thought about it. That night was weird enough without bringing that into the mix. I guess I told you she played French horn instead, but I don't remember that."

"Do your parents know?"

"No. Emily came to New York for a day, and my dad met them both when he came to get me for break. But I've stuck to the story that we're all just good friends. That pretty much goes for everyone who asks."

"But people have to suspect..."

"Probably. My roommate knows, so I guess most of the school knows, too. But I think you and William are the only two people who I've actually told. Actually, not true. A woman in Australia knows, also."

"Australia?"

Richard laughed. "Long story..."

"Well, I'm honored to be one of the three people in the whole world who you've told!"

Richard smiled. "I trust you."

"Thanks."

Arlene went to ask another question, and Richard held up a hand.

"Okay, no more. We're not going to get them now. Tomorrow you'll meet them, and you can ask all the questions you want. Tonight, let's just have a nice dinner, you and me, just like we used to. I want to hear more about what you've been working on with William. And more about what Juilliard was like, if you're up for it."

Arlene nodded, but ignored the restriction. "Do they know you're out with me?"

"Of course. They suggested it."

"Do you see other people, then?"

"Hey now..."

Arlene laughed. "What's one more?"

Richard frowned at her. "Where did you hear that?"

"What?"

"Nothing. That's exactly what William said when he found out. You've been spending too much time with him, obviously."

Arlene just shrugged and smiled.

"We don't really see other people," Richard continued, impishly. "But I've slept with a few women, including one in a car in New York..."

Arlene put a hand over her eyes. "God, what a night that was. That's when I really hit bottom."

She suddenly turned to him. "You didn't tell them about that, did you?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Everything?"

Richard winced. "Pretty much. They like hearing about my ... adventures."

"Adventures? Oh great! They probably hate me, for trying to bed you!"

"No, not at all. They were really getting into the story."

Arlene just covered her eyes again and moaned. "I'm so glad we didn't go by the school!"

"Arlene, I'm not in some weird sexual triangle. Emily and Sandra are my closest friends. I share everything with them, and they with me. No matter what happens, we trust each other. We have to, or else what we have going would blow apart in a minute. And because of that, you shouldn't worry. Consider them to be part of me, now. They're looking forward to meeting you tomorrow."

Richard put an arm around her shoulder, and pointed with his free hand.

"Okay, somehow you managed to ignore me and asked a bunch more questions." He pointed. "There's the restaurant. When we go in, let's pretend we're back in the city."

Arlene sighed as she regained her calm. "Okay. I'd like that."

Richard stopped walking, and turned her to him. "Good. Just like old times."

He hugged her, and kissed her cheek. Then he opened the door to the restaurant, and they stepped into that bistro in New York...

-------

"I'm still kind of nervous about my auditions," Richard said, as the waiter took the check with their money.

"We're all set," Richard told him.

"You're going to knock them out," Arlene said, as she sipped the last of her Pelegrino.

"I've never played for real pianists before."

"So? Mr. Schatten knows what he's talking about. And William says you're going to have your pick of schools."

"I know, but still. What if I mess up?"

"Then you mess up. You hardly ever mess up, though."

"When I was about thirteen, I stopped and restarted my piece at the recital that year."

"And that was the last time you messed up?" Arlene said, laughing.

"No. But that sucked."

"You're going to be great. Trust me. I thought I'd be the one worrying tonight."

"Are you?"

"I don't know. Maybe a little. But I keep telling myself it's just an audition. I'm worried that I'm not worrying, actually! You know that's not like me."

"What, you, get nervous? No!"

"I know! What is this?" Arlene laughed.

"If you get into Juilliard ... I should say, after you get into Juilliard, that's your first choice, right?"

"Yeah. And you're going to Wexford ... when you get in?"

"Probably."

"Why didn't you audition at Juilliard?"

"I don't know. I want to be further away from home. You know how my dad is. I'd have to live at home, and I need to get away. So I didn't even apply."

"You should have at least tried."

"No. If I got in, then my dad would have made me go there. I mean, it's Juilliard. He'd be proudest telling people I was studying there. It's the only music school he knew about, until I started applying."

Arlene nodded. "I could see that. He'll be proud no matter what, though."

"I guess. I'm half expecting him to announce they're moving out to wherever I go, once I decide."

"No, he's established here with his work, isn't he?"

"I know. It's just a joke. But he's probably going to be calling me every ten minutes to see if I'm practicing."

Arlene suddenly pointed. "Oh, look, the waiter is holding the phone out for you now. It's your dad."

Arlene laughed as Richard fell for it and looked for a second, before turning back to frown at her.

"You suck."

She grinned, and then wistfully asked about the hour. Richard showed her his watch, hoping she would misread it. She didn't.

"I'm really having a good time, like always, but I guess I should think about getting home."

"All right," Richard said. "I probably should too. I'm leaving in the morning."

"I'll be thinking of you, Richard."

"Likewise. I'll be at your place Friday evening, then?"

Arlene nodded. "I can't wait. Hopefully we'll both have done well and we can celebrate."

Richard thought he caught a sparkle in her eye, but he wasn't sure. Is she suggesting something?

He helped her with her coat, and then he donned his as they walked to the door.

They stepped out into the frigid February night. The cacophony that was the symphony of a Manhattan street greeted them immediately.

They walked slowly in silence to the parking garage, where Arlene had left her car. Richard wanted to take the subway back home.

"Sure you don't want a ride?" she asked.

"No, you should get home. I could use a little time on the train to clear my head before I go back. My dad is freaking out about the audition even more than me."

Arlene considered him for a moment. Then she got close and kissed him long and hard, before pulling away to look him in the eyes.

She put a hand to his chest and then she spoke some words that Richard carried with him for a long time.

-------

"Arlene, just play from here. Just go in there and play from your heart. Forget who's listening. Pretend it's me instead. You know how much I love your playing."

As they stood on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, Arlene looked at him with damp eyes. "Is that what..."

" ... you said to me before I came here to audition?" Richard smiled in answer.

"How did you remember?"

"Those words got me through the audition."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Richard shook his head. "When I got to your place that weekend, you were a mess after your audition. Hardly the time to be talking about playing from the heart ... especially since I didn't even say anything encouraging to you the night before your audition. I've always regretted that I didn't help you that night, like you helped me. I thought you were fine."

"But here you are now," Arlene said emotionally. "You've been so nice to me, Richard."

"It's the least I can do. I still care for you ... I didn't really know that until I saw you over break, but it's true. I really do hope you come to Wexford, so we can be friends and talk like we used to."

"So you do miss me?"

"I do. I mean, I love what I have here. I love Sandra and Emily like ... like nothing else. But the three of us also know that we can't be everything to everyone. Emily spends some time with her brass friends. But I don't hang out with many other pianists here. None, really, and I miss talking to someone who understands my instrument. I feel like I've always been able to figure things out about playing the piano, just by talking with you. I miss that."

Arlene seemed overwhelmed by his words, and fought to keep the tears that were forming in her eyes from falling.

"I don't know how to thank you."

"Just kick some butt tomorrow," Richard said simply.

Arlene nodded, and then laughed a little. "I don't really play in a kick butt style."

Richard smiled. "You do, in your own way. Come on, I'll walk you back. A good night's sleep, breakfast, killer audition ... and then we'll hang out."

"I can't wait to be done, tomorrow evening. It's going to be a long day, with all the theory and history tests. I wish my audition was earlier, but that's how it worked out."

"I'll come down to the hotel and have breakfast with you, if you want?"

"Hmm. No, you must have things to do. You've done enough. Besides, I think I need to have the day for myself, so I can focus. Come find me at five."

"Five, then, in the lobby at Wexford. We'll be there, ready to celebrate."

Arlene smiled. "I really hope so, Richard."

-------

The girls were feisty when he returned to the room after dropping Arlene off at the Marriott.

"What's the occasion?" Richard asked, as a glass of red bubbling liquid was thrust into his hand by a naked Emily. Sandra, who had opened the door in a towel, had it off as soon as the door had closed.

"We're celebrating that we remembered we had champagne."

Richard looked at them dubiously, and then at his glass. "Did you cut yourself opening the bottle?"

"Kir royale," Emily explained. "We went down to the store, too."

"Ah."

"We're ready."

They were sitting next to each other on the bed, legs crossed and flutes in hand as they watched him expectantly.

Emily just happened to spill a little of her drink on her chest.

"Oops..."

Sandra took care of it before it ran down too far.

"You could have waited a few more seconds," Emily said, disappointed at where Sandra's tongue had ended up.

Sandra giggled. "Later!"

"You're ready for what?" Richard asked.

"We're ready to hear all about your date, of course! What was on your dirty mind?"

Richard laughed. "My date ... Okay. You want some popcorn?"

"Ooh, another good one!" Emily said, giggling at Sandra.

He told them in two sentences what had happened.

"That's it?"

They seemed sorely disappointed that the night had not been nearly as exciting as the last encounter.

"You two are weird," Richard said. He settled down on the edge of the other bed, across from them. "It's like you want people flirting and attacking me."

"It's funny to hear you tell the stories," Emily said.

"And, it's a little exciting, knowing other people want you, but we have you."

"Okay. I'll start hitting the clubs tomorrow for you."

The girls laughed.

"What did you two do while I was gone, besides get drunk?" Richard asked.

The girls shot him a glare, but didn't contest the accusation.

"Napped."

"Napped?" Richard said, surprised. He had struggled to convince them to take the first few naps. Now they were like babies, sleeping every day.

"The nap thing makes us feel energetic," Emily said.

"Yeah. And sometimes it makes us horny," Sandra said, her face apologetic.

Sandra kissed Emily, unable to resist. It was clearly not the first or fifth kiss of the night for them.

A few minutes later, he was looking down at their naked bottoms as they lay on the bed. He was kneeling in front of them, and they were taking turns playing with him.

He reached out and rubbed their backs, enjoying the feel of their smooth skin.

"I think I like the nap thing too," Richard said.

"You don't nap."

"You know I can't. After I nap, I'm low energy for hours. It just doesn't agree with me. Your naps agree with me, though."

Words turned into giggles for a while as Richard went silent.

He felt like things were starting to work out. Their hard hours of practicing the details of their pieces were starting to pay off. Their rehearsals were focusing more and more on the music rather than the technique, and the details were becoming second nature.

Things were still intense, but the intensity was focused differently now, and it was having a positive effect on their relationship, as the playfulness he so loved about his friends seemed to have been found anew.

Sandra had turned around to lie on her back, and Richard looked down at her. She smiled sultrily, and then pulled him close.

"Last time you did that, you got drenched," Richard said.

"Mm hm."

Richard closed his eyes, remembering the scene. That, and Sandra's delicate ministrations quickly brought him close to the edge.

Sandra's hands suddenly reached around his butt and pulled on him sharply.

Richard cried out as he stiffened and resisted her pull.

"Argh! Don't do that!"

Sandra let him out to speak. "Why not?"

"It looks like it hurts!"

"Doesn't."

"I don't know ... You sing. I don't want to be responsible for ... hurting anything."

Emily laughed. "Sandrine d'Arcy — A promising vocal career tragically ruined by a blowjob."

Sandra just hummed something incomprehensible as she grabbed Richard around his butt again. Richard groaned in protest, but didn't try to stop her this time.

"Damn, Sandra," Emily said, after a moment.

Richard shuddered as Emily kissed Sandra's arched neck, and he actually felt her lips.

Very soon, it was too much. He let out a warning grunt, and then a second. Oh fuck, she's not going to let me go... 

With Emily kissing Sandra's chin, it looked they were both swallowing him. He was glad for Sandra's sake that he wasn't coming off an hour of arousal.

Still... 

"Oh ... man..." he managed, as he held onto the bed for support.

Sandra let him go when he was finished. Richard fell back, watching her closely. She turned over and smiled at him with satisfied eyes.

Richard just shook his head as he rolled back to sit on the rug. "You're crazy."

"Oh, like you didn't like that," she said.

"I did," he admitted.

"I know. So did I."

"It scares me," he said.

"Didn't seem to stop you," she said simply, licking her lips.

Emily watched the interchange with an amused look. "No, it didn't."

Sandra turned to Emily with seductive eyes. "I want you now."

Emily smiled. "I'd like that."

Richard watched as they kissed and caressed each other.

Definitely liking the nap thing,  he agreed with himself.

-------

Perhaps it was their way of reminding Richard he was theirs, or perhaps it was really just the naps, but the girls kept Richard occupied on Saturday afternoon as well.

Their practice that morning had been excellent, despite the struggle of finding a room amidst the sea of auditioning musicians that had descended on the building.

Richard could see the awe and hope in their faces, mixed with nervousness and apprehension. He wondered if he looked like that when he first walked through the unfamiliar halls full of snippets of music.

Now it felt like home.

A little before five, the trio prepared to go back to the conservatory to meet Arlene. The girls had considered wearing their shortest dresses sans panties in her honor, but Richard had immediately squashed the idea, despite laughing about it. Besides, the weather was too cold for bare legs. Different jeans and shirts were settled on, and then the girls changed.

"What was wrong with the jeans that you had on?" Richard asked, looking down at his clothing. He was wearing the same thing he had on at breakfast.

"Those aren't going out jeans," Emily said.

"Oh. And the shirt?"

"Doesn't match the jeans now."

"The jeans were both blue," he observed.

He was subsequently ignored.

Sandra had just pulled on her shirt when the phone rang. She answered it.

"Hello?"

"Sandra? Hey, it's Billy."

"Hi, sweetie! How are you?"

"Doing all right. Getting through the semester, you know."

"Oh, I know," Sandra laughed.

"Anyway, it looks like we're definitely gonna come up for your show next month."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Kyle's gonna come here the night before and crash in my dorm, and then we'll head up there the day of the show."

"That's awesome! Can you stay a few days?"

"Naw. I got some tests later that week, so we're gonna have to bust out of there real quick the next day."

"Are you sure you can take the time?"

"Oh yeah, for sure. I really would like to see you sing, Sandra. I can study in the car while Kyle drives."

"Okay. Don't get in trouble with your exams, though."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. It will be great to see you."

"Yeah, it will."

"You're probably gonna be busy that night, huh... ?"

"We're all going over to Richard's piano teacher's house. You can come. You have to come! Otherwise, I'll be mad..."

Billy laughed. "All right, if you put it that way."

"Where are you going to stay?" Sandra asked.

"I called your Pa and he said we could stay with them in their hotel room for that night."

"Perfect."

"I wish I could talk more, but I have to go."

"A little early to be heading to a party, isn't it?" Sandra joked.

"Naw ... Actually I kind of just started seeing a lady and we're gonna go eat somewhere."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"What's she like?"

"She's sweet ... but nothing like you."

"Aw, Billy..."

"Well, it's the truth. But, like you said over break, I gotta start trying to move on."

"I'm happy for you. I hope it works out."

"I hope so too. Well ... I'll talk to you soon."

"Thanks for calling, Billy. And it will be great to see you next month."

"Definitely. Take care."

"Bye."

Sandra turned to Emily and Richard.

"Billy's definitely coming," she announced.

"Cool," Richard said.

"Kyle too ... Emily..." she added pointedly, when Emily didn't react.

"We had our affair," Emily dismissed airily. "It's over between us."

"Whatever. He'll be happy to see you, at least."

Emily nodded. "At some point those two boys are going to put, well ... two and one together and figure out what's going on between us three."

Sandra shrugged. "Maybe."

"Shall we head over?" Richard asked.

"Hmm ... I'm not sure I like this shirt..."

Once they finally went to the conservatory, they ventured into the noisy front lobby. There were still a myriad of people carrying their instruments. Some milled about between others who were talking. There was a general sense of relief in the air that was missing earlier in the day. Still, he saw several people with drawn faces staring at the floor, and a few people even crying.

Richard saw a bright orange violin case and looked up at its owner, wondering who would make such a statement. A young woman with black hair and pretty eyes smiled at him as if she had drawn his gaze by force.

Richard found himself smiling back, before his movement put people between them again.

He wondered who she was. If she was auditioning, she didn't look like she was worried about how she did.

I'll probably never know,  he thought.

The image of the vibrant violinist was swept to a far corner of his mind as Arlene materialized in front of them.

Richard immediately felt immense relief when he looked into her eyes.

-------

Arlene rushed over to Richard and hugged him, laughing.

"That well, huh?" Richard said. "Emily, Sandra: this is Arlene Who-looks-like-she-had-a-good-audition Palmer."

She pulled apart from him, and hugged his two friends as well out of excitement.

"It's really nice to meet you," she bubbled. "I'd say that Richard told me all about you, but he didn't really let me ask any questions last night."

Emily grinned. "He was trying to keep us a secret from you, then?"

Arlene laughed. "Oh no, not at all."

"So your audition went well?" Sandra asked.

"Yeah. I think I did really well. Mr. Auber came up to me after, and he was already talking about repertoire he wants me to work on."

"You did more than great, then," Richard said, grinning.

"I thought about what you said, and I just played."

"What you said," Richard corrected gently.

"That's cool. Looks like you'll be coming to Wexford next year, then?" Sandra asked.

Arlene shrugged, surprised at the enthusiasm she heard in Sandra's voice. I would have expected disappointment, or... 

"If the rest of my application works out, I think so. I mean, you know, I need to wait for the official word, but..."

"Sounds like you're in, if your teacher is making plans," Richard said.

"That's great, Arlene," Emily said. "We know you've been through some rough times at Juilliard."

How much did Richard tell them? He said everything ... but for some reason I'm suddenly not ashamed, if they know... 

"Yeah. I'm just glad it's over. It was a long couple of months this winter."

Sandra smiled knowingly. "Well, now that you're done for the day, we should celebrate."

"That would be wonderful..."

The quartet found themselves at a small Italian place they had never eaten at before. Richard had thought of trying a more upscale place further up the same road, but when they passed the open doorway of Maria's, they stopped and grinned at each other.

"This is just what I want," Arlene said, breathing in the enticing aromas.

That was all they needed to hear, and soon they were seated in a dim corner.

An older woman came up, and Arlene watched as Richard and Sandra struck up a conversation in Italian with Maria.

"They do this all the time," Emily said to Arlene, with an exaggeratedly dramatic voice.

"We don't!" Sandra protested.

"Talking about me when they don't want me to know what they're saying."

Sandra shot her a disapproving look.

"You and I should learn Russian or something," Arlene said to Emily. "Then we can do the same to them."

Emily sat back and laughed. "I like that thinking, Arlene."

Over the course of dinner, Arlene realized that Richard had not exaggerated. The three of them shared everything, from food to their most intimate thoughts. The latter was not voiced at the table, but Arlene could read it in their eyes. There was little between them that wasn't shared.

It was an overwhelming realization. Richard was firmly entrenched in a loving triangle with these two women.

Arlene found herself more and more intrigued ... no, infatuated with them as the night went on. Emily and Sandra were a part of Richard, as he had promised. He saw things in the women that she associated with him, and she also discovered where some of Richard's new ideas and mannerisms came from.

The wine flowed freely. The peak dinner crowd came and filled the place, and then the background noise faded again. As the four of them shared stories about their teachers and fellow students, Arlene slowly felt the regret she felt about Juilliard being replaced by an optimism about Wexford. She realized she'd be getting a second chance at her music.

And even though Richard was taken, she'd still have a second chance at his friendship, at least.

-------

As they walked back to the dorm, they passed through a park. Arlene heard a fountain behind the bushes that lined a nearby garden.

She noticed the two girls start laughing about something they had both silently thought of.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Nothing," Richard said quickly.

"Okay. Inside joke. I won't pry," Arlene said, feeling a little left out for the first time that night. Get a grip, Arlene ... They don't need to share everything with you... 

"We have this friend in Australia —"

"Sandra..." Richard warned, before looking at Arlene. "Don't worry, we were just remembering something that happened here. Nothing about you. When these two start drinking, things can get wild," he added, gesturing at the girls.

They laughed wildly.

"Wild is okay," Arlene said, feeling her insides jump at the thought. Wild? And what happened with this Australian woman that keeps coming up?

"See?" Emily said. "She doesn't mind."

"Emily..." Richard warned again.

Arlene laughed as Richard tried to maintain control of Emily with his look. Emily pouted back at him.

Arlene realized she was feeling the wine herself. She decided to side with the girls.

"So, how did you three get together? Richard said some vague things last night, but..."

"Richard just kept coming up to our room all the time, pestering us. Finally we took some pity on him."

Arlene laughed, both at Sandra's statement and Richard's resigned look.

"I'm having total déjà vu!" Emily said to Sandra, who smiled back with wide eyes.

"I know!"

Sandra turned back to Arlene, grinning.

"He would take me out, and then take out Emily at other times when I didn't know. We'd always be talking about our guys to each other. Then we found out it was the same guy one day!"

"We were pissed! But, in the end, we liked him enough to keep him," Emily added.

"That's not how it went at all, Arlene," Richard said, rolling his eyes.

Arlene just laughed.

"What really happened is ... I don't know, actually. It just happened," Emily said.

"That's exactly what Richard said last night," Arlene agreed.

Sandra at last took charge of the story. "We both liked Richard. We met him during orientation. We started hanging out, just the three of us. Pretty soon it was obvious that we all liked each other. There was a little bit of ... weirdness when things started happening, but that's just because none of us knew what we were doing."

"Did you talk about it first?"

"No, I just kissed him one night," Emily said boldly.

"Yeah, I thought these two were giving me a nice head massage," Sandra said, picking up on Emily's forwardness, "and here they were macking right behind me!"

"Macking? It was one kiss! Besides, you were practically taking off your top when Richard was massaging you!"

"Was not!" Sandra gave Emily a horrified look, but Arlene could hear the amusement in her voice. "Anyway, the next day I kind of saw Emily kissing Richard in the hallway before they came in the room."

"No, I thought you kissed him in the room first."

"No, you came in after kissing him in the hall. Then you tried to leave, remember?"

"Oh yeah, that's right! Sandra was thinking about Richard in naughty ways, right before we came in, heh heh."

"Emily!"

"What? You were!"

"You didn't have to tell her that part!"

"Why not? A few minutes ago you were just going to tell her about how you kissed Allison!"

"No, I was going to tell her about you and Richard doing it by the fountain... ! Oops..."

"What the fuck?" Richard blurted out, as he threw his arms in the air and spun around. "You two ... bad girls! I can't take you anywhere!"

Emily and Sandra started laughing as they fell into each other's arms.

"Nice one, Sandra," Emily said.

"You too, Em."

Arlene also laughed, especially at Richard. She was glad it was dark, though, so they couldn't see her face reddening slightly.

"You have your hands full, it looks like," she said to him.

"You don't know the half of it."

"So what happened next?" Arlene asked the girls, looking apologetically at Richard.

"Great. Next year's going to be interesting," he moaned.

Arlene gave him a consoling hug, before she joined the girls as they started walking again. They hooked their arms in hers and strolled down the path as Richard followed.

He was smiling, just a little, Arlene noticed.

-------

Back at the dorm, Richard silently pulled the door to the building open, and let the three girls in. Arlene noticed several people look up from the television as they passed through the dorm lobby and headed for the stairs.

I wonder what they all think of these three. And now I'm walking with them... 

When they reached the second floor, Richard paused with his hand on the door.

"I need to go to the bathroom. Is it safe for me to leave you three alone?"

"Of course. We'll be in the room. We'll save you some champagne."

Richard just grunted in amusement, and then continued up the steps.

Arlene followed them into their room. As hinted, champagne was soon opened. Arlene started to wonder if she should stop. I do have to get up early and drive tomorrow... 

"You want some?"

"Um ... Sure."

The three of them soon clinked glasses.

"Congrats," Emily and Sandra said. "On a good audition."

"Thanks."

They drank, and then Arlene found them smiling at her.

She could see why Richard liked them. She imagined they would be fun on their own, but together, they were a force. A natural pair.

"We hope you come here next year," Emily said.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Richard does too. He cares about you a lot, and he also likes talking with you about piano stuff."

Arlene shrugged. "He has you two to talk with."

"I don't know anything about piano. And Sandra can play, but not like you or Richard can."

"He seems really happy with you."

"We take care of him," Sandra said simply.

Arlene knew she meant that in many ways, and she felt her face heat up slightly. She took another sip from her glass.

"I'm probably going to go to the hotel soon," she said. "I need to get up early and drive back to New Jersey."

"Whatever you need to do. You can hang out here as long as you want."

Arlene looked around the room for a second, and then sat on the bed.

"Thanks for taking me out tonight. I know he ... probably told you about what I did in New York."

Sandra and Emily looked at each other for a moment, and then they moved to sit to either side of her.

"He did."

Arlene suddenly felt nervous, but she went on.

"I didn't know he was with you, really. Or I wouldn't have. And I was going through some tough times." Arlene felt suddenly foolish.

"You don't have to apologize. It's not your job to draw the line."

"What?"

"We trust him. He stopped when he needed to."

"Nothing happened, though!" Arlene said quickly.

"No, something did happen," Sandra answered, quietly.

Arlene's heart jumped. "You mean when I tried to kiss him? He didn't kiss back. I didn't even —"

Sandra put a quieting hand on Arlene's cheek.

"Shh ... It's not about that, Arlene. You and he reconnected."

Arlene just looked at her dumbly.

"Richard said things didn't end all that well with you, when you dated," Emily said.

"And now you might be coming to Wexford," Sandra added. "Things are working out for you two, in the end."

Arlene just looked back and forth between them, unsure what she was hearing.

"But ... I don't understand. You two are with him. I can see the love you have for each other."

"Love has many forms, Arlene," Emily said.

"We have this idea that there are a small number of people that we are intertwined with. Things happen for reasons, usually because of these people."

"And you think I am one of them? You hardly know me..."

"No, but we know Richard. We can tell he thinks of you as more than just an old piano buddy."

"And you don't always need months to tell. Sometimes you just know when you meet these people. You feel like you've known them for a long time, and that you're just picking up where you left off."

Arlene was quiet for a few moments. "I guess I know what you mean. Last night, I felt like I was with him in New York again. And the two of you ... you're so friendly. It is like I've known you before. Like I've just been away for a while."

"Now you're coming back."

Arlene shook her head. "I should have auditioned here last year," she said at last.

The girls laughed quietly. "Things happen for a reason. It will be great to have you here next year."

Arlene hugged them. "Thank you ... You don't know how much that means to me. I've been worried about what it really will be like to come here, with Richard being here a year already. I knew he'd be established in his own things ... And I wasn't sure what you would be like ... I kept imagining that somehow you'd never let me see him ... That was even before I found out there were two of you!"

They shared a laugh.

"Well, Richard does kind of hang out with us all the time. But we've never done anything to keep him from seeing other people."

"If I was him, I wouldn't hang out with anyone else either," Arlene said sincerely.

Sandra and Emily smiled at her words.

Sandra suddenly looked at the door. "Where is he anyway?"

"Probably eavesdropping," Emily said, going to the peephole. She turned around and shrugged. "He'll come down when he's done."

"He's probably hoping we're telling you about all our adventures."

"Really? He seemed like he wasn't really wanting you to even tell how you got together."

The girls laughed. "He was just pretending to. He has this thing lately where he's acting all protective of us."

"It's because of the recital," Emily explained. "We've been working basically nonstop since the semester started on the recital and classes. February was insane."

"Then he was getting worried, so he started making us nap and stuff."

"It's pretty funny," Emily said, grinning. "He still thinks we nap."

"Do you?"

"Well, every now and then ... But sometimes we just say we did, so that he stays relaxed and will have fun with us. Otherwise he starts trying to tell us we need to rest. Go to bed early, and stuff."

Arlene laughed. "So things are better now?"

"Yeah. We'll make it to April in one piece," Sandra said.

"I really would like to come out for it," Arlene suddenly said.

"Well, of course! Hasn't Richard invited you?"

"No, not really."

They looked at each other. "We've got to get on him about inviting people to come to the concert! We have way more people in our sections of the audience so far," Emily said.

Sandra laughed. "Yeah, you have like five, and I have six."

Emily shrugged. "Still more than he has."

"Since you invited me, I guess I'm in your column now," Arlene said.

The girls smiled at her, pleased with her announcement.

"Yes, I'd say you're right, Arlene ... It's a long way to come for a recital, though."

"I'm not doing much right now. Besides, I like it out here."

"You can stay with us in here, if you like. As long as you want."

"Thanks," Arlene said, feeling warm at the invitation.

"We have friend from Australia who is coming," Emily said.

"Yeah, who is she? Richard said 'long story.' And, I thought you said Sandra ... kissed her? Or I misheard..."

They laughed. "No, you heard right. We snuck that in there for Richard's benefit. It was fun to see him pretend to get all angry."

"Allison was visiting in the area for work, and we ran into her at a music festival. Somehow —"

A knock interrupted Emily. She rose and went to the door, and peeked out. She turned and grinned at the girls, and then opened the door a crack.

"Hey. We're busy. Come back in twenty minutes."

She closed the door, and turned around, grinning wickedly.

The second knock came immediately.

Emily opened the door again.

"We were just telling the Allison story. I seem to remember you not wanting to hear it, so..."

Richard tried to enter, and a pushing struggle ensued. Emily turned and looked at the girls as she shrieked. In an instant Arlene and Sandra were helping. Giggles and cries sounded down the hallway as Richard almost got in. Then the girls gained leverage, and three bodies finally beat one. The door latched shut, and the girls cheered wildly at the victory.

"I have a key," Richard said calmly from the other side.

"Ooooh..." Emily smiled mischievously, and then threw the inner deadbolt. She peered out the peephole.

"All right, I get the message. You've stolen Arlene for the rest of the night," he said, looking up and down the hallway. "Just save me some ... apple juice."

"Should we let him in?" Arlene whispered.

Emily shook her head as she continued to look at Richard. Richard was making a funny face at her, and she started laughing. Sandra and Arlene looked out as well.

"I'll be up in my room," Richard finally called. "Have fun. Call me, if for some odd reason you think I should come down and see my friend."

Emily waited until he finally turned to go, and then she unlatched the deadbolt. Confirming that the noise had made him turn back, she looked at Sandra and Arlene.

"Hide, quick," she whispered to them, as she unlocked the lower lock as well. Arlene piled into one closet behind Sandra, and Emily slipped into hers. Laughter ensued as they struggled to close the doors and slipped on shoes and boxes.

Arlene found herself squeezed against Sandra in the tight confines.

Poor Richard... 

-------

Richard tried the door, expecting it to lock on his touch. He was mildly surprised to feel the handle turn, given the wild laughter coming from the room.

"Is it safe now?" he called in through the slightly open door.

No answer. Things had quieted.

Richard went into the room. He sniggered when he saw that they had chosen to hide. The options were few. He doubted they'd be on the dusty floor under the beds, so there was only one choice.

He tried to change his smile into a patronizing look, and then he reached to open Emily's closet. His hand stopped as it touched the handle.

I'm outnumbered. Hmm... 

A mischievous grin crossed his lips.

The closets can't be very comfortable... 

He turned, and went to the desk. He hummed a random melody as he sat and put his feet up, and then picked up the phone. After a few moments, he spoke.

"Hey, man. It's Richard."

"Oh, nothing much. Arlene auditioned today."

"I'd let her tell you how it went, but she's not here."

"I don't know. Out with Sandra and Emily."

"Yeah, that came out pretty quick."

"Well, she obviously has no problem with it. They've found somewhere secluded to go without me."

"Yes, I'm serious!"

"How would I know what they're doing? I'm talking to you."

Richard laughed richly. "Sadly, not the case."

"I'm feeling outnumbered, I guess."

"I'll buy you a plane ticket."

Richard laughed again. "You know, I think I've figured one thing out, sitting here all alone. When you get women together, they don't add. They multiply."

"Well, when you have one, obviously you have one."

Richard sniffed. "Well, that's a different issue, but..."

"Then you have two, but is really like you have two times two. Which is still manageable, I've found, heh heh. Now, suddenly I'm dealing with three, and it's like there's nine of them!"

Richard listened for a while, and then burst out laughing.

"Exactly! It's like a giant sleepover party or something."

"True, there are worse positions to be in."

"Oh wait, they're actually in the closets. I had no idea," he said loudly towards the doors. "Someone gave away their hiding spot by laughing."

"No, I haven't heard any moans. Yet."

"Nope, haven't heard that either."

Richard made a show of laughing very hard. "I doubt the closet is big enough for that."

Richard grinned as the girls suddenly struggled to exit the closets.

"Who is it?" Emily asked.

"No one. He's faking a phone call," Sandra said, frowning at him.

Richard shook his head in reply.

"Uh oh, here they come. All nine of them. If I get cut off suddenly, call 911. I think —"

Emily, having extricated herself first, grabbed the phone from his hands. Richard didn't put up a fight.

She can talk to him... 

"Hello?" After a moment, she turned to Sandra with a knowing look. "You were right. We have a faker."

Richard started laughing. "Fucking brilliant, William!" he called out towards the phone between chortles.

Emily whirled towards him. "Whatever!"

Richard reached for the phone, grinning. Emily instead put the phone to her ear again and listened for a few more seconds. Then she hung up.

"Well, that was rude! You just hung up on William."

"You're funny, Richard. I'll give you that much."

Emily had crawled onto him and was kissing him heatedly, when she remembered the situation.

"Sorry," she said, as she straightened. Arlene was laughing, and Sandra was still trying to untangle a wire hanger from her hair.

They think they have the upper hand... 

Then the phone rang.

Richard's smile was a mile wide as Emily answered it.

"Hello?"

She turned to Richard, her eyes exploding in mirth and chagrin as she scrunched her face up at him. She listened for a moment, and then passed the phone to Richard with a grimace.

"Fucker!" she whispered. "How does he even have our number?"

"I live here, remember?" Richard said. He turned around grandly in the chair as he put the phone to his ear. "Hey. Sorry about that. I told you, though..."

Richard laughed loudly, and turned to look at them.

"What's so funny?" Emily asked, her arms folded on her chest.

Richard frowned at her and put his finger to his lips as he listened.

"No, all in the same closet."

"They're big. What can I say?"

Richard examined the girls. "I don't know, but they're all flushed and breathing hard."

"Richard!"

The Nine advanced towards him. Richard stood and held the phone high.

"I'm trying to have a phone conversation here!"

It was a useless warning. Fairly soon the phone was being wrested from his hands. The fight moved to the rug, where they fell to the floor in a writhing clump of laughter.

Richard at last tickled himself out of the pile. Emily suddenly had the phone uncontested.

She put the phone to her ear.

"Hello... ? He's gone."

Richard held up the phone cord, which had been yanked out of the wall jack in the struggle.

"Oh..."

Everyone seemed to take a collective breath at once.

"Nine of us?" Sandra asked, suddenly.

Richard grinned, but said nothing.

"I'm sure William thought that was hilarious," Arlene said evenly.

"He did, and he had another formula."

"And what was that?" Emily said, rounding on him.

Her look almost made Richard hold his tongue.

Almost.

"He said the number multiplies, and the age divides."

The girls looked at the phone, but William was not there. They turned their disapproving faces to Richard instead.

"What? It was his idea... !"

"We'll see how funny he thinks that is when we get to New York," Emily said with a sniff.

The girls pretended to ignore him as they fixed their hair, but Richard soon interrupted their small talk.

"Were the closets comfy?" he asked them, as he got the phone working again and dialed William. "I didn't think so, but since you didn't want me bothering you, I just left you alone."

"Oh, funny!" Sandra said.

"The hanger was a nice look, though..."

Sandra just scrunched her face up at him. "You're lucky Arlene is leaving. Revenge will have to wait until the fall."

"She's here now," Emily said, raising a brow at Arlene.

Richard grinned as they suddenly advanced on him again.

I'm ready... 

"Hello?"

-------

Arlene struggled to open her eyes as the alarm clock stabbed her again and again. At last she found the off button, and she rolled over with a groan. For a few minutes, she tried to clear her head. She finally got up and made her way to the bathroom. She splashed water on her tired face.

Was last night real?

It had to be. She was coming to Wexford next year. She knew it, now.

She knew it wouldn't be all fun and games like the previous night had been, but she already had three friends waiting for her.

Suddenly, she stood up, feeling the evening's toxins draining from her.

She knew.

I'm coming to Wexford... 



-------

Chapter 30: Recitative and Aria


Sandra took another drink of water as Mr. Menlos reprimanded another hapless student for not cueing her in during the aria. After forgetting Mr. Menlos's instructions about being strict to the conductor's indications, Sandra had finally started being particular about following all cues. She would enter incorrectly when given the wrong beat, and not enter at all when the cue was missed. Between that, and the thrill of singing with an orchestra for the first time, she was enjoying herself immensely.

"Okay, okay. Dismissed," Mr. Menlos said, as he came up to the podium.

He took Sandra's hand regally, and faced the musicians.

"A hand for our soloist today..."

The orchestra stamped their feet.

"You sing beautifully," Mr. Menlos said sincerely. "Thank you."

Sandra nodded with a smile.

Mr. Menlos grinned back. Sandra wasn't sure she liked the puckish quality she saw in his eyes.

"However, you are also in this class. We still have ten minutes ... I think you should have a try at conducting the recitative."

Sandra just looked at him blankly. "Who's going to sing?"

"Why ... me!" Mr. Menlos sang in falsetto. The orchestra erupted in laughter.

He held out a silencing hand. "No, no. You will, of course."

"Me?"

"Yes. You should know it well enough by now. You've only been put through it fifty times in the past two hours!"

"While I conduct?"

"What's wrong with that? You don't sing with your hands ... Unless you are Italian!"

Sandra looked at the grinning orchestra. "Well, I don't have a baton," she said lamely.

Mr. Menlos looked around, and quickly acquired one from a nearby violinist. "All right, that's solved, then. Go ahead."

He walked to his usual corner, and waited expectantly as Sandra turned to the score.

I should have practiced this a little more...  She hadn't expected to conduct, since she was going to be singing.

She raised her hands, and the orchestra responded by readying their instruments. She gave the first beat, and then held her hands still as the violins played their long note. She sang the first line of the recitative over them, as she had so many times that day. So far so good... 

Then things got complicated. She had to cut off the held note, while singing, and then give an empty beat to cue the two punctuating chords that immediately followed her last word.

It didn't quite go as planned. She rushed the beat as she sang, and the chords were ragged, as the musicians were unclear of her pulse. She had also moved left, instead of right, her perennial downfall.

She tapped her borrowed baton on the music stand, and stopped them.

"Sorry ... This is hard."

A few people laughed, and nodded in agreement.

She tried again. This time, she relaxed as she approached the cadence, and gave the proper beat. The chords happened correctly. There was no resting on the success, though, since immediately there followed another few syllables of singing, a one chord interjection by the orchestra, and another line of text, again ending in more orchestral punctuations and a last pianissimo whole note. Everything needed to be cued with the proper blank beats as pickups, and she had to remain still the rest of the time.

On top of that she had to sing. She felt like she was juggling with small birds.

Her eyes shot back and forth on the page. She found herself reading the text when she sang.

Why the hell am I doing that? She reprimanded herself for wasting time reading words she already knew. I need to focus on the orchestral entrances, not reading lines of text like an idiot.

Things fell apart again after a few phrases.

"Hear the music, before you start," Mr. Menlos said, as he seemed to say every single time she was up there.

Sandra cleared her head. She listened to her own internal orchestra, feeling how each chord contributed to the music.

She held her hands up to try again, and then lowered them.

"Do I have to use this?" she asked, pointing to the score.

Mr. Menlos laughed. "I don't know. Do you?"

Sandra closed the music petulantly and made a shooing motion at it with her free hand. It was just taking up her attention, when she should really just be conducting the music she heard inside of her. She knew where the orchestra had its punctuations, having sung it enough times.

Separating her mind into two channels, she sang the recitative while she concentrated on giving the orchestra the right beats. It quickly fell into place, as she finally found the rhythm of giving the proper beat before each entrance. A few times she knew she had moved her hand the wrong direction, but she always made sure to give impetus to her movements, so they at least knew she was indicating the pickup beat. Some of the players followed, and some didn't, but it was enough to keep things moving forward.

Like magic, the recitative played out, with only minor errors. A few times she looked at the violas, only to have the cellos come in instead. She just winced apologetically, and sung on.

When the recitative ended, she held still for a moment, and then gave the upbeat for the aria.

"Stop!" Mr. Menlos called out, right before the orchestra started the accompaniment.

Everyone let out the breaths they had taken for the loud entrance. Then they loudly stamped their feet in appreciation of her performance, and Sandra was slightly taken aback.

"That was very good," Mr. Menlos said, applauding. "It obviously helps to have sung the music a few times beforehand. Remember, you actually do have to give the right beat, especially in something like a recitative. If you give a two instead of a three, most of the orchestra will wait one more beat to come in. They don't know what everyone else is doing, especially in a situation like this where they haven't been rehearsing this piece for weeks. There's no reason to expect them to follow your mistakes."

Sandra nodded, only partially registering his words. I did it... !

"Having said that, you did excellent. It's hard enough to conduct a recitative as it is, and you were singing, on top of it. Really. Excellent." He looked at her for a moment, nodding.

"All right, dismissed," he called out at last. "Everyone. See you next week for the Tchaik."

Sandra gave back her borrowed baton, feeling slightly elated at Mr. Menlos's words, and at the compliments she got from a couple of the musicians as they packed up.

Mr. Menlos met her by her seat as she shouldered her bag.

"That was really well done. You are still confusing your left and right, for some reason, but ... that will come. Just beat out the patterns all the time. While you eat, while you sleep ... it will become second nature. How did it feel?"

"It was actually kind of fun."

"Good. You still look very tense up there. I can tell you know how the music goes, but you are still reacting to it. Try to loosen up, and feel the music ahead of time. You had that going a little there, but I know you can do it more."

"I hear the music easily, but I still get caught up wondering how to move my arm."

"I know. Just keep practicing. You have some talent at this. I mean, look how much you've progressed in the last month and a half."

She nodded. "I am glad I stayed in the class. It was a nice feeling to get to the end of the recitative in one piece."

Mr. Menlos nodded. "Conducting can be the most intense experience of your life."

"Well, I'm nowhere near that, yet," Sandra said, laughing a little.

Mr. Menlos smiled. "I'll see you next week."

Sandra nodded as he turned and left.

She found she was walking with a little bounce in her step as she went to find Richard in the practice rooms.

-------

The week before spring break flew by in a flash. Studying for midterms occupied the trio's thoughts. They were borne forward by the coming trip to New York, and the excitement of having secured a house for next year, the day Arlene had left.

Then the first half of spring break passed in a blur of practicing, both to catch up on what they had missed during midterms and what they would miss while in New York.

On the Wednesday of break, Sandra came into Richard's practice room to take a breather. With most of the school away, Richard had taken over one of the large piano rooms that normally was occupied by the girls of the piano mafia. He was surprised they had left for the week, but he wasn't complaining.

"What's up, housemate?" she asked, rubbing Richard's shoulders.

"I like the sound of that."

"Will we be able to fill that place up?"

"Who cares! It's going to be a palace after the dorm room."

"Yeah. It's kind of hard to believe it's happening. I know we were technically on our own this year, but this feels different."

"I know," Richard agreed. "No Joey to prowl the halls."

"Or peep on us."

"He better not!"

"I don't even want to think about that."

"I finally told my parents today," Richard said.

Sandra turned to him with interest. "What did they say?"

"They were fine, in the end. I think if I was moving in with just one of you, it would have been a much tougher sell." Richard sniffed. "It's weird: One girl, no. Two girls, okay."

"Yeah, but if they knew what was really going on?"

Richard laughed. "Yeah, then it would have been a definite no."

"This relationship does have its unique advantages," Sandra agreed.

"True."

"Are we still leaving at nine tomorrow morning?"

"Yeah, if I get up early enough to get the rental car by then."

"We'll be up. I still haven't packed at all. I don't know what to wear to the ballet."

"How about the dresses I got you?"

"We're wearing those on Friday night at the Met, of course."

"Wear them again."

Sandra gave him an offended look.

"Or not..." he added. "It is a different theatre ... Okay, bad idea."

"We'll figure it out," Sandra said, implying that he would not be helping decide the clothing selections.

"I guess I should ask you if we'll be leaving by nine!"

Sandra swatted him. "We'll be ready."

Richard grinned. "It's going to be fun."

"I'm getting really excited. I mean, I've only been to the Met once! I can't wait ... I feel delinquent, though."

"Why?"

"I hardly know anything about the opera. I keep wanting to go to the library and listen to it, but you know how things are."

"You can enjoy it there for the first time. It's a dark opera. Probably we won't be walking out singing any of it ... But since you're into all that late Romantic music lately, I thought you would enjoy it."

Sandra nodded. "I'd pay to go watch stagehands cleaning up the floor, at the Met. I'm just thrilled to be going."

"William invited us to stay at his place after the opera, if we wanted."

"Whatever. I just want to be with you and Emily. We can sleep in the plaza for all I care."

"Then I'll tell him it's a go. Elektra is not all that long, but it will still be nice to hang out and relax nearby instead of driving home both nights."

Sandra shrugged. "Like I said, whatever you want."

"You're so easy to please," Richard said.

Sandra draped her body over his back. "Yes, my love. Mmm, I wish we could just snap our fingers and be at the Met..."

-------

Sandra looked out over the audience below and at the giant curtain. She smiled warmly. It was even grander than she remembered. The pointy chandeliers that were hanging before their eyes now were ascending towards the ceiling as the house began to prepare for the start of the opera.

The seats in the Grand Tier that William had gotten were incredible. Sandra had seen Richard arguing with William when Emily, Arlene and she were returning from the restroom. When Sandra had asked about it, Richard had whispered back that William was being difficult about letting Richard cover the cost of his three tickets. Apparently, Richard was going to have a large chunk of his editing check still left after the trip.

Sandra took in all the details as the orchestra tuned and then quieted. Movement in the pit quickly led to applause as the conductor walked out, and bowed.

Sandra found herself watching him intently as he gave a strong cue and the orchestra responded with the dramatic three note opening theme. The curtain opened immediately, and the servants began singing the first scene.

So much for an overture!

Sandra wished she had extra sets of eyes. At first, she was immediately following the action on stage. She found she could understand some of the German text, but also found herself needing to rely on the supertitles to follow the story.

But as the first scene progressed, she found herself more and more drawn to the conducting. The music was complex and challenging to listen to, as Richard had promised. It looked even more difficult to conduct. The orchestra was constantly switching gears as the singers traded rapidly sung lines back and forth. Dynamics were constantly changing, and Sandra found it riveting. The conductor made it look easy.

As the first scene whipped off the stage, she heard the faintest of whispers from Richard.

"Don't forget to breathe."

Sandra realized she was sitting up towards the edge of her seat, her body tense. She smiled at him, and relaxed a little as the title character came out onto the stage.

For the next ten minutes she was captivated by the soprano's voice as she sang powerfully through her solo scene. The edgy way in which she sang, and the dramatic music that accompanied her took Sandra by surprise. She knew from the story that the opera dealt with some dark themes, but she hadn't expected the music to be so visceral. After listening to the frantic interjections that accompanied the servants' scene, the richer orchestration that accompanied Elektra's singing made her tingle.

Why have I never listened to this opera before?

She found herself constantly wishing to rewind, as things happened too quickly. She couldn't follow the supertitles, acting, singing and conducting all at once.

Richard squeezed her hand, and again she found that she was on the edge of her seat.

-------

"Orest!"

With a final few minutes of insanity, the opera came to a close. As soon as the orchestra gave the final two stabs, the house erupted in applause and loud calls of 'Bravo!'

Sandra sat in her seat taking in the roar, and still reeling from the intense experience of the past hour and a half.

"Are you okay?" Richard asked her, as he clapped loudly.

Sandra nodded, and then she began to applaud as well.

"That was unbelievable. She's amazing ... And this opera ... Why did you never have me listen to it?" she asked Richard.

"Me?"

"You said you've seen it twice. You never said it was incredible."

"Well ... There are a lot of good operas," Richard said, shrugging. "One at a time, I guess?"

Sandra smiled, as the crowd cheered the singers that were now making their appearances in front of the curtain.

Someday I want to be a part of this. Even if I'm not singing... 

About ten minutes later, they were making their way down the carpeted corkscrew staircase. Arlene walked arm and arm with William, and Sandra and Emily did the same with Richard as they followed behind them.

"I thought there'd be more people in nicer clothes," Emily said, looking around.

Richard shrugged. "Used to be. Every year it seems to get a little more casual. When I was a kid, my dad used to make me wear a three piece suit when we went to the opera. I wasn't even allowed to loosen my tie!"

Sandra looked at his neck. "Old habits die hard."

"Yeah, well ... but I am only wearing a two-piece suit."

"Ooh, we're telling your dad!"

Richard laughed. "Nah. Even he loosened up as I got older. I never came in anything like that," Richard said, pointing, "but the last few years I did come in just a button down shirt and slacks."

"I'm glad we dressed up. We do look good, if I may say so," Emily said.

"I'll have to agree with that," Richard said. "I'm the envy of every guy in here right now."

"Maybe, maybe not. Most of the people in here are pretty old. They're probably more envious of William, to tell the truth," Sandra said.

Richard sniggered. "You're probably right."

William went over to the railing that overlooked the main entrance of the opera house, and leaned against it with Arlene. Richard smiled, and pulled the girls over to the rail to join them.

"That was a romantic opera," Arlene said jokingly.

"Richard chose it," William said mischievously.

"I liked it," Sandra announced.

Arlene smiled. "I did too, but I'd probably not go again anytime soon. Too ... crazy. Too intense. I like happier stories."

"I guess we won't be seeing you tomorrow night then," Richard said, with chuckle.

"Well, another night, another great show," William said in a satisfied voice.

"Just like old times," Richard agreed.

"Did you two used to go to a lot of concerts together?" Emily asked him and William.

"No, not at all. I almost always went with my dad."

"We saw each other a bunch of times, but we probably only came here together once or twice," William said.

"So how many operas have you been to here?" Arlene asked Richard.

"I have no idea ... Fifty. No, probably more. Eighty?"

"You lucky man..." Sandra said, shaking her head.

"What can I say? My dad took me when I was eight, and never stopped. I lived in Lincoln Center during high school."

"And I still do," William said.

"Isn't it expensive?" Sandra asked.

"Yeah. But eventually I started sitting at the score desk to follow the music," Richard said. "That only runs about ten bucks."

"Score desk?"

"On the top level in the theatre, along the side balconies, they have desks with lights where you can follow the score."

"Really?"

"Yeah. About seven or eight on each side."

"Can you see the stage, too?"

"No ... Well, if there's no one sitting next to you, you can lean over, and see a little. It's a terrible angle, though. My dad usually sat in that seat, and he didn't mind, but..."

Sandra looked off into the distance with a smile. "That sounds like such fun."

"It was. For a new opera, we'd sit in Family Circle to watch the staging, but for the ones I'd seen before, it was more fun to follow the music."

William leaned over. "I never really understood that," he said. "You can follow the music at your house."

"Yeah, but you don't ever do it. When's the last time you took two, three, four hours and just sat and followed the music to an opera in your apartment?" Richard asked.

"A few days ago."

Richard made a face. "Well, you don't count, being retired! I know I've never done it outside of this theater."

"What about you, William?" Emily asked. "How many have you been to?"

William laughed. "Now we really enter unknown territory. Let's see. I've lived in New York my whole life. I try to see every opera they show each season at least once. You do the math."

"God, William. Hundreds..." Sandra said, her face amazed.

He pretended to look hurt. "Hundreds! How old do you think I am?" he cried.

Sandra laughed, unfazed. "Sorry, you're right. Thousands... !"

William guffawed. "Thank you, Sandra. I needed that!"

"That's amazing. I've been here only once before, to see Rigoletto with my dad. We sat in the fourth row."

William whistled. "Nice way to go to the Met your first time. Must have spoiled it for tonight."

"No. Tonight was even better. The sound was awesome. Thanks, William, for getting us the tickets."

William nodded as he smiled warmly back at her.

Richard looked through the large windows that made up the façade of the building.

"After every act, me and my dad would come stand right along here and look out at the people. Just like we are now."

William nodded in agreement.

"Why didn't you have him come out tonight?" Sandra asked.

"This is our night," Richard said.

"He could have come."

He sighed. "He doesn't really go to the opera much anymore. I asked him this morning what he'd been to see recently, and he said he saw Falstaff in December and that's it for this season."

"Wow. He's only been once?"

"Yeah. And a couple of concerts at the Avery ... Three events all year. Weird, considering we used do one or two a week."

"Why has he stopped?"

"I don't know ... He is getting older. Last year, he had trouble staying awake, especially for the longer operas. Plus, it costs money."

"And, you're not around," Emily said quietly.

Richard nodded, suddenly feeling his throat tighten. "All right, let's go outside and get some air. What are we doing next?"

"There's a new wine bar a few blocks away," William suggested, immediately lifting the mood.

"Great!" Emily said, grinning.

"Sounds like someone likes wine!"

Everyone laughed, and then they walked down the grand staircase.

-------

William opened the door to his apartment, and stood aside to let his guests in. Moods were spirited after the hour or so spent eating cheese and drinking wine at the restaurant William had recommended.

"Wow! Nice place, William," Sandra said, looking around at his pad.

"Thank you, dear."

She left her small bag of overnight needs by the door and went over to the grand piano. She fingered a few chords. Then she played the opening three note theme from Elektra.

"Sing it!" William cried out.

"Orest!" Sandra sang, imitating the final words of the opera. She was in the wrong key, though, and it came out much too high.

Everyone laughed.

William had soon collected drink orders and was busy pouring out wine and scotch. Sandra and Emily wandered around, looking at the autographed photographs of musicians and dancers that hung throughout the large room.

"Nice collection of pictures," Emily said to William, when they had all finally gathered on the two plush couches.

"Thank you."

"I love seeing pictures like these, where they are in action," Sandra said. "You can see so much of the artistry in them."

"Yes!" William said, excited. "I almost only collect pictures of the artists playing or conducting, or dancing. Portraits never did much for me."

"Me neither," Sandra agreed.

"There are many more throughout the house," William said.

"We may have to take a tour," Sandra said.

"Do you have one of my dad?" Emily asked.

"I don't know. Who is your dad?"

Emily looked at Richard for a moment, before speaking.

"Clark Rathbourne."

"Really?" William asked, turning to her.

"Yes."

"I didn't know that."

"Richard never mentioned it, I take it."

"I'm sorry, I don't know who he is," Arlene said sheepishly.

"He conducts the Baltimore Symphony," William answered first.

"Oh. Wow."

"Now we know where you get your musicality from," he said to Emily.

"Pfft. You haven't heard me play."

William laughed. "True. Speaking of which, I hear there's a great recital coming up in April..."

He looked at the trio expectantly.

Emily and Sandra at once turned raised brows to Richard, who was sitting in between them.

Richard coughed loudly. "Where's the bathroom again, William?" he asked, making to stand up.

The girls pulled him back down.

"I thought you were going to invite people to our recital!"

"It's getting warm in here," Richard said, grinning.

"I don't know ... It's perfectly comfortable on this couch here," William returned, laughing.

"William, will you come to our recital?" Sandra asked formally, after rolling her eyes at Richard.

"I would love to, if I can," William agreed.

"Sweet, one more for our column," Emily said.

Richard just shook his head.

"It will be a recital of exes," Sandra said, giggling.

William raised a brow. "Hmm?"

"My long-time high school boyfriend is coming; one of Emily's old flames will be there; and you, Arlene, hopefully will come..."

"Don't forget me!" William said, grinning.

"You?" Richard said doubtfully.

William's face turned crestfallen. "Richard ... You mean ... you've forgotten our romantic evening on my balcony?"

"Get over it, man. I told you then that you were too young for me."

"Ah, well, one can dream."

"Someone cut him off," Richard said above the sounds of amusement.

"Well, can I walk through your place and see some more pictures?" Sandra asked, standing up.

"Of course." William rose immediately. "I'll show you around. The best photographs are back in my private bedroom."

"Ooh, is it safe for me to go in there?" Sandra asked.

"You did say you were expecting your audience to be full of past lovers," William said, eyeing Richard boldly. Emily and Arlene burst out in hoots, and Sandra just covered her eyes, smiling embarrassedly.

"It's a long way down to the street, William," Richard said simply.

Emily stood as well. "I'll come too."

"Thanks for protecting me, Em," Sandra said.

"Who said anything about protection!"

Laughing easily, the three of them were soon wandering off down the long hallway, glasses in hand.

Richard found himself alone with Arlene.

"Well, this has been a fun night," Richard said.

"Yeah. You three should come out more often."

"I wish. I'm sure we'll be hanging out this summer, though."

"I hope so. And we have next year, although William won't be around."

"So are you and he... ?" Richard asked quietly.

Arlene sniffed in amusement, as she glanced down the hallway.

"No."

"Oh. Because it sure seems like it."

"We have a musical ... relationship. And it's at least as satisfying as the other kind."

Richard nodded. He could imagine them sitting side by side on the piano bench, pressed against each other, playing duets...

"Then again, what do I know about the other kind?" Arlene said, laughing nervously. "I sort of had you, once ... and then there was the disaster with my teacher at Juilliard ... Maybe when I get to the real thing I'll have a different opinion."

"Why haven't you let anything happen with William?"

"Me? It's him who won't! Says it would be weird ... Do you think it is?"

"No weirder than going out with two women."

Arlene nodded in agreement. "One time, we kissed, when we were playing together. Then he stopped. He said he couldn't."

"Oh."

"It's obviously the age thing."

Richard frowned. "No, I doubt it."

Arlene looked at him. "Come on, don't pretend it's not. We're like forty some odd years apart! More, even!"

Richard eyed her carefully. "You can't tell him I told you this, but one time I caught him with a woman about our age. They were in a restaurant I happened to go to with my folks. He was all over this woman, all night. Well, not all over her, but there was no doubt about what they were going to eat for dessert."

Arlene leaned in, her eyes deeply interested. "Really?"

"Yeah. It was pretty funny, because he never saw me there. The next time I saw him at Mr. Schatten's, about a week later, I casually asked how his girlfriend was. He played dumb, but then I described her, and you should have seen his face. At last I got him to admit it, but that's all he'd say."

"What happened with them?"

"I don't know. The next time I asked, he said it was over. I still make fun of him for it, but he's never given the details. He just snaps something funny back and changes the subject."

"Hmm. Why wouldn't he want to be with me then?" Arlene seemed to grow worried.

Richard shrugged. "I don't know. But you still have a good musical relationship?"

"Yeah, it's better than ever."

"Then ask him. Maybe he's worried about doing what your Juilliard teacher did to you."

"He's helping me. This is the opposite situation."

"Well, for you it is. He might feel like he'd be taking advantage of you."

Arlene sighed. "He is older, even though he doesn't look it. I always thought he was about forty. I was pretty surprised to find out his real age."

"Well, he acts like a kid sometimes, too, so that doesn't help," Richard said, grinning as he heard some wild laughter from the far reaches of the apartment.

"I'm afraid to ask him."

"Why?"

"It might ruin what we do now. It feels really right to play for him, and with him. He seems to understand the way I play. He doesn't always know what to suggest, especially with technical questions, but he's really helped me get out of the weird place I was in last year, and start playing music again. I need that right now, and can't risk ruining it."

"I would ask him."

"Really? Will you?" Arlene asked, perking up.

"Um ... Me? I meant if I were you, not..."

"Oh, sorry."

"You ... want me to ask him?" Richard said tentatively.

"I don't know. Maybe you can sneak it in somehow, without it seeming to come from me?"

Richard pursed his lips and let out a breath. "Well..."

"I'm in a delicate place right now with him. I don't think I want to prod him. But maybe you can tip the scale."

"All right. I doubt I'll be alone with him tonight, though."

"I'll handle that."

-------

Arlene did, perhaps half an hour later. She turned to a rosy-cheeked William.

"Where's your rum?" she asked.

"You know I don't drink that stuff," William said.

Richard laughed as he realized the game.

"Then where's your liquor store?"

"At this hour... ? Right down at the corner."

Arlene stood, and soon had Emily and Sandra in tow as they went on the rum run. Not before William pulled out a bill and handed it to Arlene, though.

"Get something good. If I'm going to have that stuff in my cabinet, at least let it be decent. I don't want it contaminating my scotch through osmosis."

Arlene eyed the large bill, and then grinned at him.

"Well, that was interesting," William said, as they closed the door. "Good thing you are sleeping here tonight."

"Yeah."

"Your two lovers are amazing," William said, smiling.

"Is that said in a non-lover kind of way, or do I need to open that window a little wider?"

"Surely you heard their wild shrieks of pleasure when I showed them my, er, bedroom?"

"I heard wild laughter, actually. Are you sure that's what you showed them?"

William laughed. "Really, Richard, they are just charming. Spectacularly fun."

"Wait until the rum gets going."

"I'll be in bed by then, I'm sure."

"Yeah right. Where are we sleeping, then?"

"You three can have the guest room with the queen bed, down on this end. I assume you can sleep in the same bed?"

"When it's big enough, yes," Richard said.

"Good. And don't worry, I sleep on the other end, and I won't hear a thing," William said confidentially.

"We won't keep you up."

William nodded. "Arlene will be in the other guest room, down that way, too."

He pointed towards his bedroom.

"Not in your bed?" Richard asked, watching for a reaction.

William turned with narrowed eyes.

"We are not having relations," he said firmly.

"Relations," Richard repeated, laughing. "Why not?"

"Ah, well, you know ... It is a funny thought, is it not... ?" William laughed.

"I'm serious, though."

William took a deep breath, and looked at the pattern on the coffee table.

"I don't know. I'm old, you know..."

"Miss Walker was —"

"Well, actually, therein lies the problem," William interrupted immediately.

He seemed suddenly to look his real age.

"What problem? Are you having issues with..."

"No, no. Nothing like that. I'm not that old, yet."

Richard waited as William sipped his scotch.

"Lindsey was a great gal. She went to Juilliard, you see. Played the cello. She reminded me a great deal of Arlene, in some ways."

"Okay. So things didn't go so well with her?"

William finished his scotch.

"She committed suicide."

Richard froze. For a second, he felt shock, but that was quickly replaced by guilt.

"My god. William ... I'm so sorry. I never knew ... All this time, I kept bringing her up, teasing you..." Richard trailed off, feeling ill.

"Don't worry about that, my friend. If it had bothered me, I would have told you."

"Fuck ... I'm still really sorry. What ... What happened?"

"The usual. The pressure was just too much. She was an amazing player. She had superb control of the bow, and really was just a brilliant, brilliant player. She had a debut with the New York Phil scheduled."

Richard slowly turned to him as the last piece of information triggered something. "But wait ... She was going to debut with... ?"

William looked at Richard apologetically. "Her name wasn't Lindsey Walker. I just made that up, in case you ever read the paper."

Richard looked around soberly.

"I went to her Junior recital at Juilliard," William continued. "She just captured me. I went backstage after she finished and professed my love of her playing. For some reason, out of hundreds of people who did the same, she found me in the crowd as we left the hall."

William sighed. "We struck up an unlikely relationship, she and I. She was my muse, for several months. But she was also cracking. She wasn't made for the big lights, I don't think. She couldn't handle the crowds, but no one listened to her words. The New York Phil loomed ... It was too much."

"Damn."

"I tried to help, but I don't know what it's like. I've played the Schatten recitals in front of a few hundred people, most of whom were not there to see me. That's it. How can I know what she felt?"

"But you tried..."

"I don't know. At first, I just accompanied her, finding all the pleasure in the world having her play from six feet away. I was in heaven. Eventually, we ... entered into relations."

He laughed slightly.

Richard didn't find the word funny at all, this time.

William poured himself another scotch. Richard shook his head when he held the bottle out to him.

"I think at first, she was just happy to play for me. I was a small, appreciative audience, and I actually had something to say about the music. She hated greeting people after concerts. People she didn't know, that didn't really understand her ... I told her that they still understood her in a different way, but she couldn't handle it. Well, somehow I let things get away from me and she became attracted to me."

William stared off into the distance for perhaps a minute.

"After our first time, she said to me, 'I let thousands of people look at my soul when I play. But I never really looked at my soul, until tonight... '"

"Wow."

"Yeah. What do you say to that?"

"Were you still a couple, when she... ?"

"Yes. We were together the night before."

"God, William, I'm sorry."

"I still don't really know what happened. Rehearsals for the big concert were a few days away from starting. She seemed to be coming to grips with it, but ... Apparently there was a note, but I don't know what it said. I never dared try to find out. I highly doubt I was in it, not by name anyway. Otherwise I would surely have been contacted."

"Did anyone know you two were together?"

"No. After you told me you had seen me at that place on Seventh Avenue, I realized New York was smaller than I thought. So we kept things very clandestine after that. She wanted it that way. She felt safe here, she said. There was nowhere to hide at Juilliard."

"Sounds like a tough place to get by at," Richard said seriously.

"Juilliard is tough," William agreed. "There are amazing musicians and teachers there, but it can sometimes come at a price."

He locked his eyes on Richard's. "But don't fool yourself, Richard. It happens everywhere. When the pressure is on, some musicians crack, and others thrive. There's no predicting what will happen."

Richard nodded. He thought of Arlene, and Joel, and even himself and Sandra and Emily. Minor incidents compared to William's, but still... 

"I know. We've even had some moments ourselves," Richard said quietly. "Nothing like that, but I can imagine things could be much worse when you're talking about debuting at Lincoln Center."

William nodded, and then shook off some of the weight that seemed to be burdening him. "Are the three of you doing well?"

"Yes. Much better. February was tough, but March has been almost like it was last semester."

"Good. You all look great. Sounds like you're through the dregs of the practicing."

"Pretty much."

"Well, enough sadness. We'll have enough of that tomorrow night."

"Why?" Richard asked, furrowing his brow in concern.

"Romeo and Juliet."

"Oh, right."

"Where are those girls with the rum, anyway?"

As if on cue, they heard familiar laughing voices outside of the open window.

"Here they come," Richard said.

"All nine of them," William added, as he rang the girls in.

Richard moved over to sit by William's side when he sat on the couch again. "I'm really sorry about all that. Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"You didn't need to be burdened with that."

"William, I..."

"I deal with things myself. Always have. I'd much rather talk music with you, than get into these depressive subjects. I know it was necessary tonight, but..."

"Necessary?"

"Do I need to take your lovers back to my bedroom so you can tell Arlene how things went?"

Richard smiled as he looked sidelong at William. "You know, you're smarter than you look."

"Thanks, I think."

Richard put his hand on William's shoulder. "I can't imagine what it feels like to go through that ... but I do think Arlene is in a good place. I know she's interested."

"Perhaps. We'll see, Richard. The trip out to Wexford did wonders for her."

"Really?"

"Yes. And I am warming up to the idea, strange as it is."

"Why is it strange?"

"I'm old, Richard. Older than you think."

"I know how old you are."

"I've seen a lot."

"Arlene knows too, and she doesn't have a problem with it."

The laughter returned, closer now as the elevator opened and the girls spilled into the hallway just outside of the apartment door.

"Sounds like they've gotten into the rum already," William said, standing up.

"Not necessarily. That's pretty much how it always is."

William laughed, and was suddenly thirty years younger again as he pulled open the door.

Arlene immediately glanced at Richard as they came into the room, but he kept his face unexpressive.

The girls forced a rum and coke on William. Richard, however, rejected the fifth glass that had been poured, and placed it on the coffee table before going to pour himself a glass of wine instead.

"This dancer is amazing," Richard called out, as he looked at the pictures hanging above the server. William came over to observe the photos.

"Ah, yes. She was with New York City Ballet for many years. Amazing extension."

"I'll say. That's incredible ... She's alive in that picture."

"She might be my favorite artist, that I've ever seen."

"Really? I would have guessed a pianist would be in the top slot."

"No. I even moved to Europe to follow her there in the early seventies."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course. She was brilliant. The most musical thing you ever saw. Many dancers do their thing to the music. She ... she made the music. It was as if the music only happened if she danced. It flowed off her limbs, like she was painting the phrases in the air. Complete abandon."

"You were infatuated with her," Sandra said. The girls had joined them at the server.

"Yes," William agreed. "One of my muses."

Richard looked at Emily and Sandra, and they shared a knowing look.

-------

From the hopeful opening bars to the tragic closing scene, Romeo and Juliet turned out to be even more incredible than Elektra had been.

Sandra looked down the row at her four companions during the final scene where Juliet wakes in her tomb. Sandra was deeply shaken, unable to control her tears during the emotional melody that played just then. Her friends were all having the same difficulty she was.

Juliet did not dance in the last scene. There was no movement she could make that would be appropriate. There was no beautiful complement of steps to honor her fallen lover. The art had been ripped from within her. All she could do was cry, and then die.

Sandra looked again at Richard and Emily. If I ever lost them, I'd feel the same way... 

-------

The theater was starting to empty, and still the five of them sat in their seats, spent. The final theme still echoed in all of their heads. Richard wondered how people could be up and leaving so quickly, laughing and talking as they filed up the aisles. Perhaps they aren't as in love as we are... 

Emily was the first to move, standing to sigh.

"It's going to be a very long time before I forget that," she said quietly.

One by one, they stood and stretched. The spell didn't break even as they stepped out into the wide plaza of Lincoln Center.

"Well..." William said.

They walked aimlessly for a minute through the plaza. The fountains had died for the night.

"Aren't we a happy bunch?" Arlene said, as they looked at the silent pool.

Even that quip only produced a little laughter.

"I am happy," Sandra said after a moment. Her tone was emotional. "And thankful. I've had an amazing weekend. What more can we ask? Music, love, friends ... That's all we'll ever need in life."

Richard hugged her close.

"Eloquently put, Sandra," William murmured.

"Well, I guess this is it, then," Richard said.

"A last drink?" William offered. His voice was wistful, however, as if he knew the weekend was already over.

"No, we need to drive back to Wexford tomorrow. I, at least, need to be fresh."

William nodded. "Probably for the best. I'm rather exhausted myself."

Reluctantly, they said their goodbyes with hugs and kisses.

"We'll be seeing you in just over three weeks," Arlene said.

"Three weeks!" Emily cried. "It can't be that close!"

Arlene laughed. "Oh yes. Before you know it, the recital will be over."

"So you will come out?" Sandra asked William.

"I will. Arlene and I will drive out on Monday and stay for a few days."

"That will be great," Richard said.

"Yes. I would love to meet your teacher, Richard."

"I can probably arrange that. She's offered to have a party at her house after the recital. Not sure about getting a picture of her playing, but..."

"A meeting will be more than enough."

Richard hugged him, and then Arlene, and then they split up at last with final waves.

The girls took his arms as had been habit all weekend, and they walked slowly towards the parking garage.

"Arlene was quiet tonight," Emily said. "But not unhappy..."

Richard grinned. "Last night, when I got up to pee, I went down the hall and her room was empty."

"Oh!" Emily said. "That might explain it."

"Might," Richard agreed.

"William was quiet too," Sandra said. "Same thing, or sad to see us go?"

Richard nodded. "Both, but also ... It's a story for another time, but he probably had the hardest time watching the ballet tonight."

"Why?"

"He lived through his own version of it, not too long ago."

-------

"Another amazing night, I have to say," Emily sighed, as Richard killed the engine to the car.

Their moods had steadily climbed during the car ride back to the Bronx, as they talked about what they had seen and felt during the ballet. In the end, they returned to acknowledge how amazing it was that they had each other, and in a much less difficult situation than the evening's protagonists.

"Yes, this was a really incredible night. And I really don't want it to end yet. Are you allowed in our room?" Sandra asked Richard.

He laughed. "I don't know. It's right next to my parents room."

"We'll be entirely quiet," Emily said.

"Nary a peep."

Richard raised a brow at Sandra. "Nary? You two have been around William too much!"

Sandra opened her car door. "Come on. It's getting late."

The girls followed Richard into the house, but not before they shared a few kisses.

Vittorio was asleep on the couch, snoring loudly. An Italian league soccer game was on the television, with the sound turned off.

Richard rolled his eyes at the girls as he nudged his dad. "Hey. Wake up!"

Vittorio snorted and came to. He blinked as he looked around.

"Oh ... I fall asleep?"

"Yeah. Go to bed. You'll be more comfortable."

Vittorio stood. "How was the ballet?"

"Incredible," Emily said.

"Very sad, and very romantic," Sandra added.

"Bene, bene. I make breakfast tomorrow, before you leave."

"That sounds great, Mr. Mazzini."

Sandra gave him a hug and a kiss on each cheek, and Emily did the same. Then Richard hugged his dad before sending him off to bed.

Richard pulled the girls to his room once his father was safely behind the closed door. Emily and Sandra giggled expectantly.

"Shh," he admonished.

Shutting his door, he dug through one of the drawers in his desk.

"Sandra, when did you go see Rigoletto?"

"Um, end of ninety-four."

"Do you know the date?"

She didn't hesitate. "December seventeenth. Why?"

Emily laughed. "How do remember that?"

"I told you. It was an unforgettable night," Sandra said, shrugging.

Richard found what he was looking for: a stack of ticket stubs held together with a rubber band.

"Wait ... You think you might have been there?" Sandra asked, her eyes suddenly sparkling with interest.

"Maybe. I saw Rigoletto around then. Let's see..."

Richard flipped through the stack, and then slowed as he approached the right time period. At last, he put down the pile, and smiled as he handed Sandra a ticket.

"Oh my god!" she said, looking at him incredulously. "Maybe we were even sitting near to each other!" she blurted out, examining the stub again.

Richard laughed. "No. I would have remembered you, trust me. Plus, I was way up at the score desk," he added, indicating the marking on the ticket. "About as far from fourth row as you can get!"

"Wow ... That's really wild..." Emily said, smiling broadly.

Sandra handed Richard the stub after a moment. She didn't know what to say, so she just kissed him.

"Okay, off you go," he said.

"What's wrong with staying in here?" Sandra said suggestively, as she hung onto him.

"My bed makes noise. The one in your room doesn't."

Emily frowned at him. "How would you know?"

Richard opened the door and pushed them out of the room.

"I'll see you in a few," he whispered, as they went off down the hall.

He went to the bathroom and spent a few minutes looking in the mirror, as he brushed his teeth. I definitely look less tired than when I left Wexford. Even after midnight... 

He quickly changed into some nightclothes, and then quietly crossed the house to enter the girls' room. They were sitting on the bed together.

"What's up?" he whispered.

"Just talking about how good this trip has been," Emily whispered back.

"Yeah. It was just the right thing," Sandra agreed. "I feel so ready to take on the recital now."

"Good. I feel the same. I look a little more alive in the mirror."

"Yummy is what you look," Emily said, pulling him close for a kiss.

Since it was easier to be quiet by touching than talking, things moved quickly. Richard lost his shirt, and then his shorts. Emily wasted no time moving her kisses lower, and soon Richard was the one trying to remain entirely quiet.

Sandra had just taken over from Emily, when the Mazzini's old phone rang in the kitchen like a distant fire alarm.

Richard jumped, causing Sandra to come up coughing as she gagged.

"Sorry," he whispered, as he hurried to put on his clothes. He suddenly felt disoriented. Who's calling at this hour?

There were two possibilities. One was a wrong number, and the other he didn't like, at all.

"Are you going to get it?" Sandra whispered.

"I can't go out like this!" he said, gesturing to his boxer shorts, which didn't hide his arousal very well.

Richard hesitated as the phone rang a third time. It was too late. He heard his parents' door open, and then heard Vittorio's slow footsteps as he made his way to the kitchen.

At last the ringing cut off, and Richard could hear his dad's muffled voice answer.

Another syllable followed, and then there was a period of silence.

"Wrong number?" Sandra said.

Vittorio spoke once more, and then Richard heard his foot falls again. The three of them looked at each other. The girls giggled quietly, and Richard silenced them with a hand. His senses seemed heightened, suddenly, as was his heart rate.

Richard squeezed his face tight, as he realized the footsteps were not getting closer. Shit, he went to my room... 

Richard jumped up as his dad approached down the hallway now. He looked around. There was nothing available to cover himself with, so he arranged his shirt and shorts as best he could, and stepped out into the hallway just as his dad reached the door.

"Che e?" Richard asked, before his dad could ask questions. Luckily the lights were all off, save for the night light in the hallway.

Vittorio looked at him for a moment in the darkness. The whites of his eyes were barely visible. "E per Sandra."

"Sandra?"

Richard stepped back, wondering why she'd be getting a call at this hour, at his house. Nothing he thought of was good, and his heart immediately started to race even faster.

He stepped back into the room, staring at their expectant faces.

For a moment, he wished he could say it was a wrong number. They were looking up so beautifully at him right then. Their eyes glimmered in the dim light, and they were holding hands.

"One of your friends, wanting you to take us out to a party?" Sandra asked.

Richard shook his head, finding his breathing growing uneven. He stared for a moment longer, unable to speak.

"No ... It's actually for you," he managed at last.

"What? For me?"

"That's what my dad said."

Sandra seemed to consider the situation for a moment, likely running through the same thoughts Richard was having. Then she quickly got up and hurried to the kitchen, as Vittorio turned on some lights. Richard and Emily followed.

Sandra picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

Richard heard his father come up behind him.

Sandra had her back to them as she listened to the female voice on the line. From Richard's position, he could hear the talking, but the words were indistinct. Sandra remained motionless for a minute.

Then she turned.

Her face was a mask of horror as she moved her mouth, unable to make a sound. Richard stood stunned, the simmering fear inside of him suddenly erupting and gripping his heart like a vise.

He could now hear the voice on the phone as Sandra lowered it from her ear.

"Sandra? Sandra? Are you there?" the tinny voice repeated.

Sandra looked at them for a long second, before staggering back and rebounding off the counter as she fell to her knees.

A wail pierced the night, and Richard felt like his world was suddenly caving in.

What is happening?



-------

Chapter 31: Lacrimosa


Richard shook himself out of his stupor as he saw Emily taking Sandra into her arms on the floor.

"What happened?" Emily asked repeatedly, but Sandra just stared off wildly in shock, breathing in ragged spurts. She was barely able to breathe, let alone talk.

Richard picked up the phone from the floor.

"Cosa sta succedendo?" his father asked, coming closer to Sandra.

Richard ignored him.

"Hello?"

"Hello? Who is this?" the voice asked urgently.

"This is Richard."

"Oh, Richard ... This is Sandra's mom. Is she okay?"

"She's ... in shock. What's happening? Is your husband okay?" Richard asked, fearing the worst.

"It's not Robert," she said. Her voice was punctuated with emotional pauses and sobs. "One of her childhood friends has been badly hurt."

Richard felt his throat tighten up. "Oh, no..."

He looked down and noticed Emily's stricken face frantically mouthing 'Her dad?' as she held Sandra against her.

He shook his head.

"He got trapped in a house that was on fire," her mom continued. "He's very badly burned. I am very sorry to wake up your family at this hour, but..."

"No, absolutely do not worry about that. What's his condition?"

"It's ... It's very bad."

Richard paced around the kitchen frantically.

"What's his name?"

"Billy. Billy Jackson," Sandra's mom said, her voice cracking. "Emily met him when she was here. Is she there, too?"

"Yes ... She's with Sandra..."

Richard felt like the world was spinning around. He looked down at Emily and mouthed Billy's name. Emily closed her eyes in utter despair.

Richard knew how much Sandra still cared about her childhood friend and ex-lover. Even though things were long over between them romantically, Sandra still had a place in her heart for him. He had called just before they left, to let Sandra know he was definitely coming to the recital. But now...

"Was anyone else hurt?" he asked, when he finally regained the ability to speak

Mrs. d'Arcy paused before answering. "Yes. We're still not sure what happened. The fire wasn't at his house."

"When did this happen?"

"A few hours ago. We're at the hospital. I know you are on break, and if it was anything less, I would never have called at this hour ... He ... he..."

Her mother struggled with the words.

"He asked for her," she finally managed.

"How bad is it?"

On the floor, Sandra was wailing in Emily's arms. Vittorio was looking on, his face wretched.

"As bad as it can get," Mrs. d'Arcy said. Her voice gave way.

"Can you give me a number where you are?"

There was a pause, and then she recited some digits. "Room 221."

"I will call you in a few minutes. I'm really sorry to hear this. I know how close your family must have been with Billy, after he and Sandra went out for so long ... I'm so sorry ... Let me just help Sandra for a minute. I will call you right back."

"Sandra?" her mother pleaded.

"She's very upset ... I don't think she can talk right now."

"Please take care of her?"

"I will, Mrs. d'Arcy. I promise."

Richard hung up and looked at the girls. Sandra was still crying uncontrollably.

He considered telling Emily what was going on, but with Sandra in her state, he balked. He could do nothing for her beyond what Emily was already doing, so he turned to his father.

"What happened?" Vittorio asked, in Italian. Richard glanced at Sandra and then pulled his dad into his room.

"A friend of hers from her town was burned in a fire. He's close to death."

Vittorio closed his eyes. "Dio... "

Richard changed into pants, and then quickly started throwing clothes into his bag. "We're leaving now."

"Right now?"

"He asked for her. Maybe we can get there, before..."

Vittorio nodded, and then hesitated. "But does she want to go? Flames do not pardon..."

Richard stopped packing for a moment. Does she? Does she want to see him this way? He squashed the images that presented themselves to him before he felt too ill.

"At the very least, she can be with her family, and that of her friend," Richard finally said. "Then she can choose what to do."

"Are you sure you will leave now? At least sleep for a few hours."

Richard shook his head. "There will be no sleep tonight, no matter what happens."

Vittorio nodded. "Can I help?"

"Make me an espresso. Make three," Richard corrected, "and put them all in one mug. But wait until I have the girls in the car, or it will be too noisy."

Richard handed him his packed bag, and the car keys. Vittorio nodded, not needing more instruction.

Richard returned to the kitchen as his dad continued outside. He knelt down and took Sandra from Emily, cradling her in his arms.

"He asked for you," he said gently.

Sandra grew even more anguished.

"Do you want to go see him?"

For a long time, Sandra didn't give an indication through her crying. Then Richard caught the nod.

He looked at Emily. "Billy was hurt in a fire, and he's in the hospital. Can you get ready, and then find something for Sandra to wear? She can change later. We're leaving now."

Emily looked at him wide-eyed, and then stood and ran to their room. Soon she returned with their bags and her horn. Richard stood, picking Sandra up. Vittorio waited by the front door, and held it open as they approached.

Richard carried Sandra outside to the car, with Emily following. Emily threw the bags into the front seat that Vittorio held open, stashed her horn in the trunk, and then sat in the back. Richard gently maneuvered Sandra into the seat next to her, and Emily soon had her cradled in her lap.

Richard heard the coffee grinder spring to life through the screen door.

"I'll be out in a couple of minutes. Just hold on," he said.

Richard's mother was in the kitchen, and Vittorio was relating the news to her. Richard gave her a brief hug as he grabbed the phone and dialed the hospital.

A man answered this time.

"Hi, I'm a friend of Sandra's," Richard said. "I'm trying to get Sandra there, and need to know where to go."

A second man took the phone.

Fortunately, he was in much better shape than Sandra's mom had been, and he quickly gave the directions Richard needed.

"Where's the map?" he whispered to his mom, as he wrote down the last bits of information.

"All right, thanks. Please tell Sandra's mom that we are leaving for there right now."

As Richard hung up, Angelina opened a drawer and pulled out a map of the northeast. He spread it out on the table and jotted down the interstates he needed to take, until he dovetailed with the directions the man had provided. He fingered the scale and then measured off the route, wincing as he reached the end. Over five hundred and fifty miles... 

For a moment he wondered if he was crazy. The clock read twelve fifty-three.

Vittorio handed Richard a mug of concentrated caffeine, and sighed.

"Just be careful," he said. "It's not worth rushing over, if it will result in another accident."

Richard nodded soberly, and then hugged his parents.

"Tell the girls goodbye," Angelina said, patting his cheek.

"I will. Sorry we won't eat breakfast."

Vittorio nodded respectfully, and then pushed Richard towards the door. "Forza, Riccardo, forza."

With a last wave, Richard pulled out of the driveway and gunned the car down the empty streets of his neighborhood. After a few minutes, he was on interstate ninety-five, and then crossing the Washington Bridge.

In the back, Sandra had quieted, although she was still quite shaken. Emily caressed her hair as she continued to lie on her lap.

"Is it really bad?" Sandra asked, her voice unrecognizable.

Richard looked in the rear view mirror at Emily. Their eyes met for an instant, and then he looked back at the road.

"Yeah."

"He's going to die, isn't he?"

"Your mom didn't say that," Richard said quietly, hoping she took his words at face value.

"I can't believe this is happening. Not right now. Not with everything going on."

Emily gently shushed her as she seemed to grow agitated again.

"Just rest, Sandra. Billy will need you to be strong for him, when we get there."

As the northern part of New Jersey began to fly by, Sandra just stared at the back of the seat.

-------

Richard glanced down at the Styrofoam cup beside him. The coffee was long gone. He should have gotten a second cup at the fuel stop, he realized, since he was starting to feel the first hints of exhaustion creeping into his eyes. Then again, he wondered if the foul brew even had any caffeine in it.

"How are you?" Emily asked, waking up in the back.

"I'm hanging in there."

"I don't mind driving."

"I know. I'll be all right."

"Sandra's still asleep."

"Good. She can't do anything in the car, so she might as well."

"Are we planning on staying there tonight?"

Richard shrugged. "I don't know. If the worst happens, then Sandra will probably stay a few days for the funeral, I guess. If not, she might also stay, to be with him for a while. God, this is terrible..."

"I know. He's a good guy. He's kind of quiet, in that Midwestern kind of way. Or maybe he was just taken with Sandra when we were down visiting. I don't know."

"Poor guy. Argh, I feel like crap. What a horrible thing to have happen."

"How much longer?"

"Another hour, or less."

Richard kept his eyes on the road, scanning for police cars. The morning sun was already illuminating the land around them as it flashed by.

Romeo and Juliet seems like it had happened a month ago... 

Sandra stirred suddenly.

"We're almost there," Emily said, resuming her caresses.

"Did I sleep?" she asked wearily.

"Yes."

"I was hoping it was all a bad dream."

"I wish it was too," Emily said softly.

-------

Richard was on his last ounce of energy when he stopped the car in front of the hospital doors. Emily got out with Sandra, and they went inside while Richard drove the car to the parking lot.

His eyes were starting to dart around involuntarily. He had been moments from pulling over to let Emily drive, but then the exit came, and the change of pace from the interstate to the rural highway had given him some minutes of new life.

He looked at his watch. It was almost seven thirty. He found it hard to believe he had been at his house less than seven hours ago.

Despite the tremendous temptation to pass out where he sat, Richard got out and went into the hospital. After signing in and taking the elevator up one floor, he ran into Emily, who was waiting for the elevator herself.

"What's happening?" he asked wearily.

"He's still alive. I was just coming to find you."

Richard let out a sigh of relief. At least the trip hadn't been in vain. It didn't make the situation any better, but at least Sandra could be involved in whatever unfolded next.

"Where's Sandra?"

"She's with her mom."

Emily stopped walking as they entered a somewhat full waiting area.

"Okay. We should wait out here, huh?"

"Yeah. The room's right down there," Emily said, pointing.

Richard saw Sandra talking to her mom, as several other people stood by.

"Robert told me that we really don't want to go in there."

Richard nodded, feeling his body recoil slightly.

"Whatever happens, let's just be strong for her," Richard said.

Emily nodded. "I'll do my best. I know what she's going through," she said distantly.

-------

"You don't have to go in there, Sandrine."

Sandra turned her sad eyes to her mother. "I do. You said he called for me. I have to go."

The pain in her mother's eyes was touched with fear.

"It's bad," she said for the third time, making sure Sandra understood.

Sandra squeezed her mother's hand, and then reached for the door handle.

She took a deep breath, and then opened the door and went in, steeling herself for what she was about to see.

It was far worse than she had even imagined.

-------

Yolande was crying softly as Robert held her. My poor Sandrine... 

The door opened a few minutes after Sandra went in, and Kyle limped out of the room, his face twisted and red with despair.

He stumbled, and his father reached over to support him.

"It's all right, son," Tim said, as he pulled Kyle into a hug. "Billy's a strong one. He's gonna pull through."

Kyle just stared off past his dad's shoulder.

There was sudden rush as a few nurses ran past them and went into the room next to Billy's. Yolande fought off the wail in her throat as she heard orders shouted out before the door closed and shut off the horrible scene within.

It was only a matter of time now, before Billy would follow Kelly into that gentler world. I just wish Sandrine didn't have to see it... 

-------

"Emily?"

She looked up at a familiar man standing before her.

"You're Kyle's dad."

"Yeah. I'm Tim."

Emily stood up, hugging him. "This is my friend, Richard."

Richard shook hands with him, nodding his head somberly.

"Kyle knows you're here. He told me to come say hello. He needs to be with Billy, now," Tim explained.

"Of course," Emily said. "We got here as soon as we could. Richard drove all night, nonstop, as soon as we heard."

"You done a good thing, son. We always still think of Sandra whenever we think of Billy. Even after they split up. It's only fitting that she be here when he goes."

Emily's face saddened. "It's close then?"

"Yeah. Those of us who could stand it just went in to say goodbye. I ain't no doctor, but I know the end when I see it." Tim shook his head. "He's just with his dad, and Sandra and Kyle now. They was the people who meant the most to him."

"Is he awake? Does he know they're with him?"

Tim looked at her. "He knows."

"How did this happen?"

Tim shook his head. "Some kind of fire at the Carney's house. Kyle and Billy was driving home from shooting some pool, and they saw the flames jumping up from the attic. They ran into the house, waking up Jim and Barb ... Kyle ... he, uh, found one of the kids, and Billy grabbed another. Got them out, and then the boys followed Jim back in to find ... find little Kelly. Oh god, bless her soul... !"

Tim broke down. Emily hugged him tightly, tears running down her cheeks.

At last Tim composed himself some.

"They didn't come out. Fire trucks got there, and they found Jim and Kyle trying to clear out the doorway, but Billy was trapped. The attic caved in on him when he was getting Kelly from her crib."

Emily had a hand to her mouth. Richard felt ill.

"What happened to her?" Emily whispered.

Tim shook his head, his face miserable. He was unable to speak.

Emily broke down into sobs.

Someone came running from the direction of Billy's room.

"Tim..."

Tim gave Emily a last stricken look, and then hurried away. Emily watched through watery eyes as Kyle staggered out of the room and fell into his dad's arms. They seemed to struggle, as Kyle convulsed in agony. As Tim became overwhelmed, Sandra's dad stepped in to try and help. All around, people were crying as they watched helplessly while the three men thrashed about.

Emily closed her eyes, unable to take anymore. She felt Richard's arms wrap around her, just before things went black.

-------

Sometime that evening, as the sun began to consider setting, Richard found himself sitting quietly outside of the d'Arcy home. An earlier nap had done little good; he was still exhausted.

Sandra would be staying a few more days for the funeral. He and Emily had accepted the offer to stay one night before leaving for Wexford, even though it meant missing a day of classes. There was no choice, however. Driving now would have meant certain disaster.

The mood inside the house was expectedly somber as people from the town came all afternoon to offer condolences. Richard had felt out of place, not knowing anyone except Emily and Sandra. Now, Emily was out walking with Kyle, and Sandra was sitting with Billy's father and the Carney family in the living room.

He was listening to the gusty breeze blowing over the wide fields of Sandra's farm, when another sound seemed to come out of the wind. It was like a distant, mournful horn, at first. Then Richard heard the movement of a slow melody emerge from the droning sound.

The wind ebbed and flowed, seemingly trying to lift the despondent but beautiful melody.

Richard sat up, straining to listen. It seemed as if the wind was carrying the sound in from miles away.

It's Sandra,  he suddenly realized.

The wind at last slackened some, and Richard could more clearly hear the fiddle through the open windows of the house.

There was nothing fancy or technical about the playing. It remained a simple melody, sounded over a droned string.

But how it moved Richard! He was riveted to the chair, as Sandra's emotions filled the melody through three repetitions.

As quietly as it began, the music ended. The wind, sensing that the moment was over, blew strong again and swept the sound of the fading drone away over the fields.

Richard slumped back down in his chair, deeply haunted by the sound.

-------

Emily was beside Kyle as they walked out along a dirt drive that led between the fields. After asking her if she would accompany him on a walk, he had been silent. His red, stricken eyes scanned the farm, as if seeing Billy and himself playing here and there in their younger days.

After some time, they approached an area of trees, and soon Emily heard the gentle sound of running water. Kyle led her to the bank, and looked out over the stream that ran through the grove.

"We grew up here," he said quietly. "When we weren't working on the farm, or in school, we were down here."

He pointed. Emily saw an old tire sticking out of the water, with the tattered remains of a rope still attached around it. The other end, long since severed, hung down a few feet from an overhanging tree limb.

"The old tire. We'd swing out over the water and jump in to that deep pool."

Kyle breathed in deeply, and then closed his eyes. "Billy, Sandra, Annabelle, and me ... We grew up here."

"It's very peaceful."

"It is, now. It could be noisy, too, when we played. It was whatever we made it."

"You knew Billy his whole life?"

"Yeah. The four of us were all born and raised here in this town. When you saw one of us, the other three weren't far behind."

He looked around again. "Even when we were in high school, we still would come here. We'd swim, lie in the sun ... Billy got too heavy for the tire, and snapped the rope one day. That was the end of that..." Kyle sniffed. "Sometimes Billy snuck a bottle from his old man's cabinet, even."

Kyle walked up the bank and Emily followed him over to a fallen tree. He kicked the log aside, revealing the top of a liquor bottle sticking out from the rotten wood beneath.

"Still here, a year later."

He pulled on the top. It gave way easily, since most of the bottle was no longer there. He looked wistfully at the broken edge of glass, and then tossed it back into the dirt, carefully replacing the log to cover it.

"We still came here when he and Sandra were going together. I was with Annabelle, and you know, it was the same as when we were kids. Nothing was really different. We were just kissing a little more often."

"Where is Annabelle?"

"She went out west. She was a smart girl, and got into Stanford, if you can believe that. She's flying back tomorrow, so she can be here for the funeral."

"We probably won't meet her. We're leaving tomorrow," Emily said apologetically.

"I know. But I am glad that you came. I still think about that weekend you came down with Sandra in November."

Emily smiled at him. "It was a good time."

Kyle walked back toward the brook, and sat on the grassy slope. Emily sat right next to him, and they stared at the peaceful scene for a time.

She imagined a young Sandra frolicking around in the water, teasing Billy. She knew Sandra had been much more shy in certain ways before arriving at Wexford, but she imagined she still would have been the center of attention.

"I had something I was going to show you when I came up to see you play in a few weeks," Kyle said.

"You can still come."

He sighed sadly. "It wouldn't be the same ... you know, without..." He squeezed his eyes tight.

"I know, Kyle. A lot of things won't be the same. Your life is changed, forever. Eventually, you'll realize that that's the endless truth..."

He looked at her. "You've lost a good friend, too."

"Yeah."

Kyle nodded, understanding.

"It's the worst," Emily murmured.

He started to cry quietly. Emily put her arm around his shoulder, and leaned against him.

The brook continued to mark the passage of time with its endless flow.

"It should have been me, Emily."

"You?"

"Yeah. In that house. We went back in, after we got two of the kids out ... and when we got to the hallway..." Kyle swallowed hard. "I hesitated. I knew we were right under the fire. You could feel it, and see it. But Billy ... Billy ... He went in. He didn't think about it. Didn't ask no questions."

Kyle broke down again, as Emily hugged him tight.

"I was scared, Emily. That ceiling ... it looked like the mouth of hell. I froze..."

"You saved one of the kids, Kyle. You did everything you could."

"No, Billy did everything he could ... Jim and me were right behind him, once he led the way ... But it was him, in the end, that went in first. It should have been me."

The breeze suddenly picked up, and Emily felt a chill.

"But it wasn't you, Kyle. Things just happen the way they do, for reasons we don't know."

"It's not right, though! Billy was going somewhere ... He was smart, too, you know. The three of them, they were all sharp, in their own ways. They all went off to college. I stayed to work with my dad at the farm, while they went off. And now, Billy's not coming back. He had a new lady friend at school. And Billy's old man ... He already lost his wife when Billy was just a little kid. And now his only son..."

Kyle turned to her, his tears flowing. "I just got my folks here, Emily, and they're getting old. That's it. Billy was my best friend. It was still like old times, when he came back for breaks. But now ... he's gone." Kyle's voice cracked. "My friend is gone."

"Kyle..."

"Why him? Why not me?"

Kyle crumpled up, and Emily cradled him as he shook.

She cried too, knowing his feelings as if they were her own.

-------

Richard was still in his chair when Sandra' s dad came out of the house with Tim. They were talking quietly, and spotted Richard as they headed towards Tim's car.

"Richard, how are you holding up?" Robert asked.

Richard shrugged and shook his head. "I'm ... holding up. Don't worry about me," he said, deflecting the attention away from him.

"I appreciate your effort, driving last night so Sandra could be here."

Richard nodded. "It's the least I could do. I feel somewhat helpless now."

Robert nodded, clapping a hand to his shoulder. "We all do ... Tim and I are going to go down to the Carney's place and get some of their things. Jim needs his medicine, and there are some other things they've asked for. Do you want to come with us?"

"I'm afraid it won't be a nice trip," Tim added.

Richard stood, grateful for the chance to do something, even if it was a morbid task.

"Will you stay for the funeral?" Tim asked, as they drove to the burnt house.

"No, we need to leave tomorrow. As much as we want to be here for Sandra, we have to go back to our lessons and classes. We'll leave in the morning, since we have to return the rental car and everything."

"I know it's a busy time of the semester," Robert said. "I will drive Sandra up on Wednesday. I hope she won't miss so much that it causes her trouble."

"She will be okay in her classes. I'll let her teachers know what is going on."

"She will appreciate that. We are very much looking forward to the recital, Yolande and I."

"Good ... I know Billy was too..." Richard said quietly.

"That he was," Tim agreed sadly.

"He'll be there in spirit, I know," Robert said.

The house was frightening to look at. Richard found himself feeling extremely uneasy as the three of them entered and quickly gathered the things that had been requested. The smell of smoke hung heavily in the rooms. When they passed a taped off and blackened section of the hallway, Richard fought not to look. That direction was where the worst had happened.

If Robert and Tim were uneasy, they didn't show it.

Ten minutes later, Richard was glad to be out of the house and driving away. In the darkening evening light, the inside of the house had an awful, surreal feeling to it. All the signs of a house having been lived in were there: dishes drying in the sink, children's toys on the floor of the family room, some unopened mail on the counter...

In the gloom, it all had a mortal pall.

-------

Richard and Emily were sitting on the floor of Sandra's room when she came in that evening. They all hugged each other tightly.

Sandra was clearly exhausted from the difficult day, so Richard and Emily helped her get ready for bed, and then caressed her head once she was under her sheets.

"I can't believe he's gone," she said quietly.

"I know," Emily said.

"It just reminds us that we need to live life today. You never know when your last hour will come."

Richard squeezed her hand.

"Do you want us to stay until Wednesday?"

"No," Sandra said. "You need to get back. I'll be okay. I have my parents here to help."

"Okay," Emily said. "We'll be thinking of you."

"I'll be thinking of you, too," Sandra said. "I love you both. Thank you for staying today. Even though we didn't spend much time together, it was comforting seeing you around, and getting your hugs."

"We love you too," Richard said, and then he and Emily kissed her forehead.

Soon Sandra's breathing turned heavy, and Richard and Emily let her sleep.

"Sounds like she's hanging in there," Richard said, as they settled into their cots.

"For now. It can take time to grieve, though."

He nodded. "I know. Well, I don't know, but I can imagine."

He gave Emily a kiss.

"Try and sleep, Em. Tomorrow will be a long day."

-------

Richard dumped their bags down onto the white rug, and sighed wearily. He watched as Emily put her horn in the corner, and then breathed deeply as she fell into his arms.

"She'll be all right," he murmured.

"Yes, she will. I hope she finds some closure at the funeral tomorrow."

"I don't know about you, but I'm about to pass out."

"Me too," Emily agreed. "I know Sandra's bed is free, but could you still sleep in my bed?"

"Of course, Em ... I'll go get ready."

The day had been extremely long. It was hard to leave Sandra that morning. The drive had felt like a weeklong journey. Adding to the misery was the need to drop the rental car off downtown and then fight their way to Wexford by taking the train and walking with their bags and Emily's horn.

Once in bed, Richard held Emily tightly as she cried.

"It's so weird, being back at school without her," she said.

"I know. It's like there's a huge hole in the room."

"I wish we could have stayed with her. But I know we had to get back."

"Sandra has an excuse to be away for three days, but I don't think that would fly with our teachers all that well."

"No, I know. We did what we could, anyway."

"We did. Are we going to history class at eight?" Richard asked.

"Don't set the alarm. If we get up, then fine."

"Okay. I doubt I'll be rousing, then."

"We won't be missed there."

"You're right."

"I love you, Richard."

"I love you too, Em. Let's try and rest up these next two days, so we can be strong for Sandra when she comes back."

Emily nodded, and wiped at her cheek.

"Yeah, she'll need us."

-------

The next morning, they were not even close to rising on time for the early class. Emily also missed her ten o'clock theory class. Finally hunger forced them to get out of bed and go to eat lunch.

"How did you sleep?" Emily asked.

"Not very well," Richard admitted.

She nodded knowingly. The funeral had probably just started.

There was nothing else to say.

An hour later, Richard walked into theory class, not wanting to be there at all. He had promised Sandra he would tell all her teachers what was happening. While he didn't expect Dr. Dobra to have any problem with her situation, he was not looking forward to having to explain it. Even as he thought of it, he felt his chest tighten.

It was for this reason that he felt a wave of relief when he sat in his chair. Dr. Dobra was not there. A man named Dr. Wilcox was substituting for the class.

Richard sighed, relieved he could put off one retelling the tragic events for another day.

Wilcox started out the class with vigor. Richard thought he was funny for a few minutes, but then he became annoying and pretentious. Compared to the stern, but ultimately caring way in which Dr. Dobra would skewer his students, Wilcox came off as a hack.

By the end of the class, Richard found himself wishing Dr. Dobra had been there after all. It became clear to him that Wilcox didn't think women could do theory, after most of his victims ended up being female. He seemed to take special pains to make sure he was not impressed by their efforts, while a similar quality of response from a male received indifference or even praise.

Wait until he meets Sandra,  Richard thought, grinning. Then he remembered that Sandra would not be in her class that afternoon, and his grin evaporated.

Even a 'Good job' thrown his way after he correctly analyzed a passage was not enough to remove the bad taste he had as he walked back to the dorm.

"I'm done with classes for the day," Richard said, as he kissed Emily back in their room.

"I never even went ... but I do have to practice some more..." she said apologetically.

"Well, I'm also going to practice. But at least I don't have to be around other people anymore today. I'm just not up for it."

"I know exactly what you mean. Hey, was Dobra in class today?" she suddenly asked.

"No, he wasn't. How did you know?"

"I heard someone saying something about him."

Richard frowned. "What?"

Emily pursed her lips. "I don't know. I thought I heard he was on leave, or something."

"Leave?"

"I just overheard. But then again, most of the stuff you overhear around here is usually true."

"Jeez. I don't know. The sub today didn't say anything."

"Hmm ... Maybe Doberman had some troubles of his own," she said, pensively.

"I'll see what I can find out tomorrow, if he's still out."

"Well, do you want to do the Hindemith, or work on your solo stuff?" Emily asked.

"My lesson is tomorrow morning, so let's wait a day to get together. I'm probably going to be quite unprepared for the lesson, but I'll let Irina know what happened."

"Will she understand? Does she know you went to New York?"

"She asked what I was doing, yes. She thought a break would be good at this point."

"Cool."

"Are you going to practice here in the room?" Richard asked.

"Yeah, if you don't mind. Like you said, I don't want to be in the building with other people right now. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It's not like there's a piano in the room I can use. I just asked in case you wanted to walk over together. I'm going to go find a place to hole up and work on the Etudes."

"Dinner at six, love?"

"See you then, Em."

-------

Richard didn't have to wait for his one o'clock theory class the next day to see if Dr. Dobra was returning. He found Emily at eleven so they could eat lunch. When he saw her, he knew that the news hadn't reached her yet.

He greeted her and then the two of them hurried out of the building towards the cafeteria.

"Slow down," Emily said wearily.

"Don't you have piano class at noon?"

"I'm not going. I don't need to deal with that today."

"Oh. Okay. Then we can walk normally."

"Sandra called while you were in your lesson," she said.

Richard looked at her sadly. "How is she?"

"She sounds all right. A little out of it, and naturally still very sad. The funeral was hard ... But she said she was really looking forward to seeing us tonight."

"Good. We'll see how she really is, then. How are you holding up?"

"I'm in a daze today," Emily said. "But that's what it's been for the last few days. How was your lesson?"

"It was fine, actually. Irina said I was doing well. I still told her what was going on. She said my playing was coming together on the Etudes. I guess she likes what she's hearing."

"Good."

"I was kind of distracted the whole time, though."

"I know. I can't stop thinking of Sandra."

"Me too. But ... I also was distracted because I saw Jer this morning."

"Did you walk in on him and Jenna again?" Emily's voice carried none of its usual bite, however.

"No," Richard said thoughtfully. "He told me why Dobra wasn't in class."

Emily raised a brow.

"Apparently he is on leave. Suspension, really."

She frowned. "Why?"

"I don't know if Jer was telling the truth, but he said that some girl accused Dobra of sexual misconduct."

"What?" Emily blurted out. "No way... !"

"That's what Jer said. He tried to blackmail her into sexual favors, or she'd fail."

"Who was it?"

"No one knows. He said it sounds pretty serious. The administration is keeping a lid on it."

"Which means everyone knows ... Damn. But..."

Richard nodded, reading her thoughts. "Yeah. I don't know. Apparently he is out indefinitely, until they investigate."

"This is messed up. People always said he was weird in that way. Still..."

"Yeah, when that thing happened with Sandra last semester, I thought so too, for a few days. After that, though, I never felt that way again. Now, I don't know what to think."

"But he never took advantage of her."

"Maybe he was building up to it," he said, shrugging. "Gaining her confidence for a few semesters, and then bribe her at the end when she was comfortable? I don't know. It's all weird."

"He did let her breeze through the final exam last semester, and the midterm this semester," Emily said, her thoughts distant.

Richard knew she was reviewing all memories she had of Sandra's interactions with the man. He had done the same. There was not any evidence to suggest anything inappropriate in any way. There also was not enough evidence to rule it out for the future, either.

"Then again, I've seen her do the theory," Richard offered. "She really can do it."

"True, but ... Wow, she's going to be crushed to hear this. You know how much she likes theory."

"I know. Or she's going to be scared. Or who knows what. It's not really what she needs to hear, getting back from her house."

Emily shook her head. "Crazy, crazy."

"I guess this Wilcox guy is taking over his classes for now."

"Well, she doesn't have to worry about becoming a theory major anymore," Emily said.

"I guess. Dobra was definitely her champion there. Now, the whole thing is suspect. It's really ugly, if it turns out to be true."

"Like I said the other day, things you overhear from musicians generally are. Keeping a lid on it or not, some steam always escapes."

"Fuck..."

They spent some minutes in silence, still somewhat stunned at the news.

"Any way to keep it from Sandra?" Richard asked, knowing his question was ridiculous.

"Sure. We kidnap her and lock her in her closet."

-------

Later that day, Richard approached Wilcox after class had ended. He still needed to explain Sandra's three day absence, now that Wilcox was the teacher of record for her fourth semester class.

Except for her conducting teacher who was away, he had contacted all of her other teachers. This was the meeting he was dreading most, for some reason.

"Um, excuse me..."

"Yes?" Wilcox said, glancing at Richard for a second.

Richard already felt like bashing that arrogant look out of him. He took a breath.

"I just wanted to let you know I missed Monday because I was with a friend whose friend died."

Wilcox leaned in. "Your friend died?"

"No, my friend's friend. She's actually a student here, in your class."

He frowned. "And she's dead?" Wilcox looked around, smirking, as if he were looking for a dead body in one of the chairs.

Richard held his hand out. "No. She —"

Wilcox interrupted him. "Fine, I don't need the details," he dismissed. "You are allowed two absences from the class, so don't be concerned. You seem like you are doing fine. Matt, is it?"

Richard just nodded after a second. "There's one more thing. My friend, who is in your fourth semester class at three ... She's been absent the last two days, and I wanted to let you know it was because her friend died."

"Very well, she can explain herself when she returns to class today."

"She probably won't be back until tomorrow, or maybe Monday."

Wilcox raised a brow at him, as he played a little melody on the piano. "What is your friend's name?"

Richard considered giving a fake name, or storming out, or smashing the keyboard cover down on his hands and stomping on it as he...

Breathe... 

Wilcox would figure it out soon enough.

"Sandra d'Arcy."

"Sandra d'Arcy. Well, I allow two absences in my classes. If you speak to her, recommend to her that she try to attend class at her earliest possible convenience."

Richard nodded slightly. "Okay."

Wilcox ignored him, so Richard just walked out.

Well, that was utterly unnecessary... 

-------

"This Wilcox guy is an asshole," Richard announced that evening when he met Emily to practice.

"Why?"

"He just is. He made a girl cry in class today. He's being completely unfair to the females in the class. Then when I told him about Sandra, he didn't give a shit. 'I allow two absences in my class... ' The stupid fuck talks like he owns the place."

"I'm guessing he's making sure he doesn't get accused of being another Dobra, at least in the ladies department."

"Yeah, probably."

"The admin probably said they'd cut off his balls if there was any funny business, so now he's playing it tough."

"No one's going to accuse Wilcox of favoring the women in the class, that's for sure. Something feels weird, though."

"We'll see what happens when he meets Sandra," Emily said.

"I'm actually a little worried about that. Maybe we can get her to skip class Thursday."

"Maybe," she said dubiously.

"I tried to put the seed in this bastard's ear, but he wasn't very cool about it. Still, that will give her a weekend to get used to the news and learn what this Wilcox guy is like."

"She'll probably want to go, though, to make sure she can get caught up. All the more so now, since Dobra's not there. She'll want to get on Wilcox's good side."

"Eh. He's a stupid teacher, too," Richard continued. "Today he messed up, and forgot what he had played for the dictation, and then he just started doing something else to cover it."

"Sounds like a dick."

"I actually miss Dobra, funny enough."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," Emily said.

"I know, right? Fuck, I wish this wasn't happening! Something about it is really bothering me."

"It's a bad situation," Emily agreed.

"Let's play. I need to get my mind off of this, before Sandra gets here in a few hours."

Emily nodded, and they began rehearsing.

-------

Sandra arrived later than expected, and the tiredness was obvious in her eyes. She was still glad to see them, though, and the reunion was bittersweet. She told them about the funeral, and how hard it had been on the community to lose two young members.

After settling heavily into her desk chair, she finally sighed and put the events of the last few days aside for a while.

"Well ... What have I missed?"

"Oh, just practicing, the usual..." Emily said.

"I feel like I haven't sung in weeks."

Sandra flipped through the stack of announcements and mail on her desk. "Thanks for getting my junk," she said. Recital programs and event announcements were increasing in frequency in their mailboxes as the end of the semester approached.

"Are we going to stuff everyone's boxes with our programs?" she asked.

"I don't know," Richard said. "I think it's annoying. Seems like a desperate way to get people to go."

"Well, I guess we don't have to decide quite yet."

Sandra opened a letter. She sniffed. "Only here eight months and they're already asking for money..."

"Who?"

"Wexford alumni association. Oh wait, this was put in my box by mistake. It's for Alex Darby."

"I get wrong stuff in my box all the time."

Sandra tossed the letter in the trash. "If he really wants to donate, he can figure it out. I don't have time to work part time in the mail room too."

Sandra opened another letter. She frowned as she read it.

Richard noticed the expression on her face, and his worry mounted quickly.

"What is it?"

"It's a letter from the board of directors. I need to ... Crap, what day is it?" she suddenly asked.

"Wednesday. Uh, the twentieth."

Sandra relaxed a little bit, but still looked worried. "I need to go in tomorrow and answer some questions. What ... What is going on with Dobra?"

Richard closed his eyes. "Is that what the letter is about?"

"It says he's being reviewed, and that as a current student in his classes, I need to come in and provide some information. Did you get one too?"

Richard shook his head.

"What is going on?"

He sighed. "Dobra is under investigation."

"For what?"

Richard hesitated, averting his eyes.

"What is it?" Sandra pressed.

"A student accused him of blackmail," Richard said.

"No..."

"He's been out the whole week. There's a substitute teacher now."

Sandra looked at him, her mouth open wide.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Richard shrugged. "You had enough to think about these last couple of days. I was going to say something tomorrow."

Sandra nodded, realizing the wisdom in his words. "What do you know?"

Richard told her the limited information he was aware of, leaving out the explicit accusation Jer had told him about. Then he described Wilcox.

Sandra blanched as Richard finished. "But ... I'm in that class because of Dr. Dobra ... He knows what I can do ... This Wilcox guy sounds like he's not going to be nice at all..."

"You're in that class because of you, Sandra, not Dr. Dobra. Just go in there and do what you usually do. You'll be okay."

"But..."

"Listen, you'll be fine. I've seen you do theory. Wilcox will give you some attitude if he feels like it, but he can't say anything about your work."

"What if Dobra was wrong?"

Richard struggled to find an answer. "I don't think he was. You are doing amazing in the class."

Sandra rubbed her forehead. "Why do they want to talk to me?"

"I don't know. Maybe they are just checking with female students, to make sure nothing else is going on..."

"Female? What is he accused of anyway?"

Emily answered after a moment. "A girl accused him of trading some sort of sexual favors for a good grade. Otherwise he'd fail her."

Sandra's face turned white. "Are you sure?"

"Well, no one knows for sure, but..."

Richard watched Sandra carefully as she processed the information.

I might as well ask this now,  he thought.

"I know this is probably going to be a stupid question, but ... Did anything like that ever happen with you and him?"

Sandra looked at him for a moment, before shaking her head. "Not even close. If anything, I feel like he was far too easy on me, letting me through the exams without even a token dictation. I've never felt like he was trying to blackmail me. Especially not with sex!"

Richard breathed a sigh of relief. "Then there's nothing to worry about. Just tell them the truth, and that'll be that."

"Fine, but what about Dobra?"

Richard raised a brow. "That's between the school and him. Not much you can do, except say that you were never threatened."

"Damn," Sandra breathed. She suddenly looked wilted.

"We should get to bed. What time do you have to be in this meeting tomorrow?"

Sandra checked the paper. "Ten ... Wow, if it had been today, I would have missed it. It says that it's important. I'm to skip any class or lesson I have at that time."

"It'll be fine," Richard said. "They'll ask you if anything weird has ever happened with him, and then they'll let you go."

I hope so... 

-------

Sandra stepped into the conference room right at ten, as directed. A half-dozen people were present, only one of whom she recognized, and none of whom she had ever talked to. They were seated around the table, and the school president, Dr. Jensen sat at the head.

The room smelled awful. She knew it was perfume, but also wondered if it wasn't some psychological method to make her disoriented.

"Sandra, please sit," President Jensen said. "Thank you for coming."

Sandra sat opposite him, and the tail end of the table. She felt extremely nervous as the six faces watched her for a moment.

"I'm sure you have heard rumors about the situation we face here at Wexford regarding Dr. Eugene Dobra," Dr. Jensen said.

It was not a question, but Sandra nodded.

"We will not keep you long, but we do have some questions we would like to ask you. Please ignore what rumors you have heard, since much of what you have heard is likely to be untrue. Answer truthfully, and to the best of your ability."

He nodded at one of the women at the table.

"Thank you, Dr. Jensen," she said, acknowledging him. "Sandra, we called you in this morning because you were one of Dr. Dobra's students for the past semester and a half, correct?"

"Yes."

"We have been reviewing the procedures that Dr. Dobra was using while teaching his classes. We found several instances of ... irregular behavior towards certain students of his. You started in his first level theory class this past August, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"The transcripts show that you moved to the third level class in the middle of that semester."

"Yes."

"What was the reason for this change?"

Sandra spoke carefully. "Dr. Dobra asked that I move up."

"What were his reasons?"

"He said that I was really good at theory, and that I needed to be in a higher level class."

"Did you take a placement exam when you auditioned at Wexford?"

"Yes."

"You finished with an A in the third level class last semester, correct?"

"Yes."

"Did you take the final exam for the ear training and sight singing course?"

Sandra felt her heart jump. I did show up... 

"Yes, I did."

"We were unable to find an exam paper with your name for the dictation portions of the exam."

Sandra hesitated, and she knew they caught it. I have to tell it like it had happened, now.

"I didn't take a dictation portion."

"Why not?"

"When I went to the final, Dr. Dobra said that he didn't need to test my dictation skills."

"Why would he say that?"

"He said I was far above the level of the class," Sandra said quietly. She was starting to feel slightly nauseous.

"So he had you skip the dictation portions?"

"Yes. I didn't even take any paper out."

"What about the sight singing portion? Did you take that?"

"I guess. He had me sing an example he had written on the board."

The woman nodded, and then passed a paper down to Sandra.

"Was the example comparable to any of these listed on the paper?"

Sandra scanned them quickly. "No."

"Easier?"

Sandra looked at them. "It was two melodies."

"Two melodies? Two examples, then? You said one."

"No, is was a duet. I had to sing what I could of both parts at once."

Frowns and murmurs went around the table.

"What was the purpose?" the woman asked at last.

"He said it was counterpoint. He asked that I enroll in the counterpoint class."

The woman looked at a thin man sitting next to her. He shrugged.

"Did anything else happen while you were in his office taking your final?"

"Like what?"

"Anything. Did you exchange any other words? Did he tell you anything beyond asking you to sing the ... duet?"

"No. He just had me sing, told me to enroll in counterpoint, told me I had an A, and to study for the written part."

The woman wrote things down on her pad.

"Did you take the midterm this semester?"

"I did take a written test."

"Again, there is no record of a dictation portion."

"I didn't take it."

"Did you do any sight singing?"

"No."

"Did you go to his office for a midterm at all?"

"No. He told me after class one day that I should just study for the written portion."

Again more frowns went around the table.

"Very well. During the semester, did you ever feel like Dr. Dobra promised you any type of grade in the course?"

Sandra didn't hesitate. "No."

"Did you ever find him to act inappropriately towards you or anyone in your class?"

"No."

"Did he ever make you uncomfortable, either in his class or in his office?"

"No."

"Are you absolutely certain, Ms. d'Arcy?"

"Yes."

The woman wrote a few more lines, and then nodded at the President. Before he could acknowledge, the thin man seated beside the woman spoke.

"Ms. d'Arcy, do you have any thoughts on why Dr. Dobra would not have you take the final exam in the ear training course?"

Sandra looked at him. She immediately disliked the man. He seemed to be trying to look inside of her to find a lie.

"Yes," she said.

"Continue," he said, when she remained silent.

"Like I said, he knew my work from class, and felt that taking the exam would be a waste of time for me."

"You wish to go on record as saying that you are so far beyond the level of the class that you do not even need to take the final?"

Sandra shook her head. "I didn't say that," she said quietly.

"You are implying that you are wasting your time in the class you are in."

"No, I am learning a lot."

"But you were not tested."

"I told you what Dr. Dobra said."

"What is your background in theory, Ms. d'Arcy?" he asked. "State any coursework or lessons, please."

"Until I came to Wexford, I had none."

"And you took a placement exam?"

"I said I did already."

The man seemed ready to say something about her response, but then paused.

"I find it hard to believe you are in the fourth level class with such minimal background."

"I have a good ear," Sandra said, starting to feel defensive.

The man laughed, not happily. "Did you ask to be moved up two levels?"

"No. It was Dr. Dobra's suggestion."

"Your written work on the exams is adequate. Not exceptional, but adequate. How did you learn the extra material between levels one and three?"

"I went to extra help sessions with Dr. Dobra."

"Were these held in his office, or in a classroom?"

"In his office."

"Were they group sessions, or individual sessions?"

"Individual."

"Did you work on ear training and sight singing?"

Sandra started to tire of the questions.

"I'm almost done, Ms. d'Arcy," the man said, noting her mood.

"We almost always worked on analysis and written elements. That's what I need most practice on, given my limited background. We almost never did any ear training."

The man looked like he didn't believe her. "I apologize if I'm being repetitive, but I want to make sure I understand. Your grade for the ear training course, an A, was based simply on the occasional in class example you sang or took dictation on?"

Sandra looked at him. Yeah, I guess he's right ... as much as I wish he weren't.

She nodded. "I guess so."

"Very well, then."

The president looked around. Another woman turned to Sandra.

"Dear, what is said in this room will remain anonymous and confidential. Do you have anything you wish to add about your relationship with Dr. Dobra as a student and teacher, that was not already asked of you?"

"No."

"Take your time. Make sure you have told us everything."

Sandra pretended to think. "I've told you all of my interactions with him."

The woman nodded at last, seemingly disappointed. President Jensen turned to Sandra.

"We appreciate your answers, Sandra. You are free to go. If we have further questions at a later date, we will contact you."

She didn't move. "Can I ask what is happening?"

Dr. Jensen shook his head. "I'm sorry. We are dealing this matter very seriously, and confidentially. At the moment, we cannot provide any information, pending our investigation."

"How long is your investigation?"

"As long as it takes," said the first woman who interviewed her.

Sandra got the feeling that her allowance of questions was over, so she stood and left, unnoticed by all except the thin man and the woman next to her.

It's her that's wearing the nasty perfume... 

She didn't like the way they were looking at her, at all. It made her suddenly feel angry. Very angry...

-------

Sandra was sitting gloomily in her fourth level theory class that afternoon when her mood sank even lower. The thin man who had interrogated her in the morning meeting was none other than the Wilcox that Richard had warned her about.

Even though he appeared outwardly not to notice her, she was obviously foremost in his mind. No sooner had the classroom quieted, than he called her to the board.

Sandra walked up, trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach.

What if Dobra was wrong about me... ?

"Harmonic dictation, Ms. d'Arcy, if you please."

Sandra grabbed a piece of chalk and waited, keeping her expression blank.

"Do you have a note for me?" Wilcox asked expectantly.

"What?"

"A note?"

Sandra turned to the board and wrote up an F. Then she shrugged at him. The class erupted in laughter, but was quickly silenced by Wilcox's violent glare.

"You missed five theory classes this week, including counterpoint. Do you have a note of excuse?"

"My friend died," Sandra said quietly.

"I only allow two absences in my class per quarter."

Sandra stared at the floor, feeling very uneasy at his tone. What's his problem?

She decided to try and lighten the mood, despite the simmering resentment she was feeling.

"Two per quarter ... That means four per semester. I've never missed another class, so I think I should be fine."

Wilcox stood and came around the piano, getting close to her. He erased the note she had written.

"I make the rules, Sandra. And I do not appreciate disrespect. I expect an excuse note in my mailbox by tomorrow, or you can return to second level theory."

Sandra suddenly started to feel ill again. Her hand shook as Wilcox returned to the piano.

Wilcox spoke quietly. "Four ... sharp ... voices ... middle..." Only a few words cut through the roaring in her ears.

Then he was playing. Sandra just listened distantly, unable to focus.

The man is a complete bastard. Richard had been right.

Wilcox was looking at her expectantly when her mind returned to the classroom.

"Again," he said.

Wilcox repeated the chord progression. Sandra again ignored it. She glanced out at the students in the class. They were looking back and forth between Wilcox and Sandra. Some stared, and others looked at her expectantly. All of them knew Sandra needed only one hearing, perhaps two on an off day.

"Third time," he said, his voice taking on an almost gleeful quality as he stared at the empty board.

Sandra watched him as he repeated the chord progression. The idiot played a different bass note there, this time,  she thought absently.

In the middle of the last phrase, she wrote up another F note, and then put the chalk down. She was back in her seat when Wilcox sounded the final chord. A murmur spread through the room.

"What is that?" Wilcox said, suddenly flustered. "Is that another joke?"

"It's a grade."

Your grade... 

Wilcox looked at it, and then shook his head. He started to speak, but then looked out at the class. Perhaps his words would have been too harsh to voice in public, because he seemed to catch himself.

"Who has it?" he barked at last.

No one moved.

"Anyone? You are supposed to take the dictation as well!"

Still no one moved.

He laughed and walked back to the piano. "Well, that makes it easy for me. That was a quiz. And Sandra kindly provided your grade. Easy to remember: F for everyone."

Wilcox returned to the piano. "When I play, you write. Simple as that. We're not here to gawk at those foundering at the board."

He took a deep breath. "Melodic dictation. Three-four, in G. Starting note is G above middle C."

Sandra didn't even bother taking out a piece of paper. She just sat there, ready to snap if he bothered her again.

-------

With about twenty five minutes remaining, Wilcox suddenly dismissed everyone. The class emptied in an instant. Sandra found herself called to remain behind, and expected it. She had almost remained seated.

She turned back and walked slowly to the piano, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

"Can you explain yourself?"

"Explain what?"

"What was the meaning of that ridiculous act at the board?"

"I missed the key and the meter," she said simply.

"Why did you not ask me to repeat it?"

"Dr. Dobra never would repeat that information," Sandra said, looking shocked at his suggestion.

Wilcox seemed to get angry at the sound of Dobra's name, and the unfavorable comparison.

"You wasted five minutes of my class," he said.

"Sorry."

"Why didn't you try the dictation anyway?"

Sandra grew tired of answering his questions. I'll just fuck with him,  she thought. She didn't know where that thought came from, but it came. He's obviously out to get me, since he's out to get Dobra.

"You said this morning you found it hard to believe I could do this level of ear training. Maybe you were right," she said.

Wilcox shook his head in confusion. "What are you saying?"

"Nothing. If you want me to go back down to second level, where I belong, I will go."

Wilcox considered her. "Is that what you want?"

"Whatever."

He nodded slowly. "Very well. Then I'll see you at one, instead of three."

Sandra looked up. "What? No, I want to take the ten o'clock class with Ms. Connelly."

"No, no. You will be in my class," he said dismissively.

Sandra drew herself up. "I won't."

"Then you will no longer be a student here. Anyone who fails to complete the four semester theory requirement by the end of their third year is expelled."

"Then I have the next two years to finish the fourth level course," Sandra said calmly. "I'll just drop this semester, and take it later."

"Oh no, no, no ... You can't drop at this stage of the semester. You can switch to my second level class; I'll allow that. If not, then I'll be forced to give you an F for this class. You will then have only one more chance."

Sandra almost laughed at his pitiful words. He was like a thin little slug.

"Fine. I'll just stay in this class," she said tiredly.

Sandra was surprised to see Wilcox suddenly grin. She wasn't sure she liked it.

"Is that your decision then? You demonstrated your abilities rather poorly today. I would be very worried."

"I'll take my chances," she said, committing to her words.

Wilcox considered her, his lips in a tight smile. "Very well. Please go to the board, then."

"What?"

"Consider this a makeup exam for the midterm which you so conveniently were allowed to skip."

Sandra just stared at him.

"Melodic dictation twelve eight G sharp minor starts on A below middle C," he reeled off.

Then he started playing. For most of the melody, Sandra watched him with an incredulous smile spreading across her face. The melody was long, and wandered aimlessly.

How ugly ... Nothing like the little jewels Dobra plays for us... 

She imagined shoving the piano and pinning him against the wall as he finished.

"What's so amusing, Ms. d'Arcy? If you fail the midterm, you fail the course."

Sandra sighed. "Why do you hate me?"

"Hate you? I have no such feelings towards you. You, however, have shown your disrespect for me many times already in less than forty minutes. And let us not forget your unhelpfulness this morning."

"Who are you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why are you at Wexford? I've never seen you before."

"I was called in to assist with the investigation of Dr. Dobra. Now if you please, I suggest you pay attention to the exam, and perhaps you can salvage something other than a failing grade."

He stared at her.

"Are you with me?" he asked.

Sandra laughed a bit wildly.

"This will be a fun semester," she said giddily.

I think I'm going to be sick... 

"I will play the melody a second time," Wilcox said, ignoring her remark.

"Don't even bother," she shot back.

You wouldn't even be able to play it the same way, you stupid fuck... 

He eyed her suspiciously as she went to the board.

"What, another joke?" he asked, smirking.

Wilcox had gone way too far. She knew what was going on.

"Oh, absolutely," Sandra said, taking the chalk and drawing up the clef and signatures in perfect script.

She wondered where this aggressiveness inside her was coming from. She wasn't sure she liked it, but her wits were so frayed that she couldn't control it.

Wilcox rose from the piano, walked to his desk and began putting away his things.

"I don't have time for games, Ms. d'Arcy," he said, his back to her.

Sandra was only vaguely aware of his angry tone.

"You are welcome draw up your little jokes, but I am leaving. You are also welcome to sit through my class, but at this point it would be a complete waste of your time since you will not pass ... I'm not sure where you gained the disrespect you are showing me, but it's completely uncalled for. You clearly entered into a situation with Dr. Dobra that was beyond your control. I saw it years ago, and the man is clearly still at it. It was only a matter of time before he got caught. He should have stopped. But no! Old habits die hard. And now you think it's funny ... Funny!"

Wilcox was done packing, and he turned and spoke to her with bitterness full in his voice. "It's quite clear that he strung you along, waiting for the proper mome — the p-prop- proper..."

Sandra smiled sweetly as she put down the chalk and turned to face him.

"Shall we do a harmonic dictation?" she asked cheerily. "Dr. Wilcox... ? Are you with me?"

-------

Sandra marched into the office of President Jensen.

"I'm here to see Dr. Jensen," she demanded.

"Well, what ... He's..." stammered the secretary.

Sandra leaned closer and raised her brows at her. The secretary looked scared. Hell, I'd be scared if I had a mirror... 

She pressed a button. "Dr. Jensen?"

"Yes?" came the voice over the speakerphone.

"There's ... someone here to see you?"

"Who is it?"

"Someone with information about Dr. Dobra," Sandra said loudly.

There was no response. Then Dr. Jensen opened his door and looked out. He recognized her, and nodded.

"Sandra, correct?"

"Yes."

He seemed to hesitate, and then opened the door wider. "Come in, please."

Sandra followed him in. Dr. Jensen walked around and sat behind his desk.

Sandra was immediately greeted by the awful odor of perfume she had endured that morning. She was not surprised to see that the woman who was first to question her earlier was sitting in the office.

"Please sit."

Sandra ignored the offer.

"I have something I wish to say about the situation with Dr. Dobra."

"Very well. We are reconvening again tomorrow. What time would be convenient?"

"Now. I don't have time to wait."

"I really think the panel should hear this," he said expectantly, gesturing to the woman. "Only two of us are present."

"Then you can paraphrase for them."

Dr. Jensen frowned. "Hold on."

He punched a button on his phone, and called his secretary in.

"Sue, can you record something for later transcription? Sandra would like to make a statement."

The secretary nodded, and then went to retrieve a recorder. Sandra paced around as she waited for it to be set up.

"Go ahead," Dr. Jensen said at last.

Sandra began immediately.

"I was asked this morning, during questioning, if I ever was made to feel uncomfortable in my theory class. And I said no. But I would like to change my answer, because the truth is, there has been one situation where I felt extremely uncomfortable. I was judged and threatened because I was momentarily unable to perform at a suitable level for the class."

Sandra almost laughed as she saw the woman leaning in. She's going to start drooling at any moment now... 

"Unfortunately, this circumstance happened not with Dr. Dobra, but with the man who has replaced him for his classes."

Dr. Jensen only frowned slightly. For a moment, the woman seemed to not hear. Then she began to turn red as Sandra continued.

"This man, named Wilcox, insulted my abilities, threatened to fail me, and threatened to demote me to second level theory. And this was after having known me for perhaps forty minutes. To my further surprise, this man is also on the committee which questioned me this morning. Not only did he insinuate that my theory abilities were suspect during the questioning, but he suggested that Dr. Dobra acted inappropriately as a teacher. All of this without having known me at all.

"It's surprising, because if I was to compare Dr. Dobra to this man, I would expect Wilcox to be the subject of investigation, not Dr. Dobra. Besides his threats and judgments, Wilcox is totally incompetent as a teacher. His in-class examples are lacking all musicality. He often plays things differently, when they need to be repeated exactly. He —"

"That's enough!" the woman yelled. "Who are you?"

Sandra held her ground, even though she was shocked at the furious response.

The woman stood, and came around the desk "Who are you, to speak of Dr. Wilcox like this? This is your statement?"

She yanked up the microcassette recorder and fumbled with the buttons, unable to make it stop. At last she threw it back on the desk in disgust, as the red light continued blinking.

"Where do you get off making these accusations against a well respected member of the musical community?"

"You said you wanted the truth," Sandra said evenly.

"Truth! This sounds like a lie. I'm going to tell you what happened here."

"Joanna," Jensen warned.

She ignored him, and set the recorder in place again.

"You were taken by Dr. Dobra. Perhaps you even told the truth when you said he hadn't made advances to you yet. But he was paving the way. Conveniently, he moved you to a higher level class, where you would be out of your league. Conveniently, he had you skip the exams. You are lucky someone else blew the whistle, or you would have been next!"

Sandra stood stone faced.

"Of course it was coming," the woman continued, a little less angry now. "A pretty young girl, like you ... People fail the theory requirement here at Wexford more often than you think. There are no second chances after that. Would you have failed? Or would you have succumbed to his offer?"

Sandra looked her in the eye. "Neither."

"You are foolish, child," Joanna cried. "You know so little of the situation, and yet you come storming in like you have seen the world in your palm."

"I know what I just saw in that classroom ten minutes ago," Sandra said defiantly. "That man Wilcox —"

"Doctor Wilcox! You are foolish, and disrespectful..."

"He is the one who is disrespectful!" Sandra interrupted. The anger inside of her had come loose. "He has some sort of vendetta against Dr. Dobra. He dismissed the class early today so he could give me a makeup midterm, with no notice!"

"Appropriate, given your lack of previous examinations. Tsk, tsk. Dr. Dobra's golden child suddenly out on her own, and the exams are not so easy as she is used too..."

"I'll take any test you want," Sandra retorted.

"Why didn't you?"

"I did! I took his midterm, right then. He's so dumb he couldn't even remember what he played to know if I got it right!"

"I will not listen to this!" the woman cried out, turning to Dr. Jensen. "I will not listen to her insult my ... Arghh!" She stood there, breathing hard, looking at Sandra with hatred.

"Who are you?" Sandra asked. "Why are you on Wilcox's side?"

Sandra suddenly noticed the secretary smiling up at her. She dismissed the incongruous image and looked at the woman again.

She didn't like the look she saw in her eyes.

Joanna shook her head at Sandra in disgust. "You really are foolish. I am on the board at Wexford. Your old school. We do not need insolent, talentless students at this institution. I will see to that."

Sandra felt her gut wrench tight, and her knees felt weak. On the ... board... ? Shit, now I'm in for it... 

"Do you have anything else to say?" the woman spat.

"Does it matter?" she managed.

"No."

Sandra looked at Dr. Jensen. He looked back at her seriously, but did not appear to be angry. Sandra even thought he seemed ashamed.

"I'll just say this ... If anything happens to me, or to Dr. Dobra, I'm coming out with what I know."

The woman chuckled. "And what exactly do you know?"

Sandra just whirled around and walked out.

"You will not be here long, Ms. d'Arcy..." she heard the woman mutter.

She was just about to enter the hallway when she heard the secretary's voice faintly speaking.

"Mrs. Warner, shall I transcribe the tape?"

"No, I'll take it. How do you stop this infernal machine!"

The door to Dr. Jensen's office closed. Sandra suddenly went back in to the secretary's office and glanced at her desk. The sight of a booklet titled 'Faculty Directory' gave her an idea.

I might be kicked out of Wexford anyway,  she thought, and grabbed the booklet before rushing off to her room, barely able to walk from the anxiety.

-------

"Dr. Dobra?"

"Yes?"

"It's Sandra. Sandra d'Arcy."

"Sandra... ? You ... You should not be calling me. I'm forbidden to speak with students at Wexford for the moment."

"What's going on?"

"I'm under investigation. Surely you have heard?"

"Yes. But why?"

Dr. Dobra seemed to hesitate. "I really can't, Sandra. I can't afford any mistakes at this point."

"What does Joanna Warner have against you?"

"Sandra..."

"Please, I need to know. Something is very wrong..."

Dobra sighed. "I can't talk to you, Sandra. If somehow this conversation is discovered, I'm done. You might be, too."

"I already am."

"What? What are you talking about?" Dobra's voice suddenly gained a little life.

"I got into a big argument with Mrs. Warner."

"About what?"

"About your situation."

"Sandra ... Why? Why did you become involved? How?"

"I was called in. They thought our arrangements on the exams were suspicious. They were expecting me to admit you had blackmailed me with an A."

"Oh no. Jesus ... What did you tell them?"

Sandra paused. "The truth, of course."

"I'm sorry ... But what do you mean, you are already finished?"

"I think she's going to have me kicked out."

"No..."

"She threatened. Can she?"

"She is a big donor, and on the board. I don't know." Dobra's tone was quiet.

"Well, she was pretty clear about it."

"I wish I could say there was something I could do, but I'm hardly in a position of power there at the moment. What a nightmare..." Dobra's voice was emotional, and it took Sandra aback for a moment.

"How do you know her son?" she asked, regaining her senses.

"Her son?" Dobra asked.

"Wilcox."

"I don't know him. I first saw him when I met with the panel to be questioned. Sandra, I really must hang up."

"Dr. Dobra ... You've helped me all year. I need your help again."

"My help?"

"I'm looking at expulsion, unless you can help me."

"Sandra..."

"They're out to get you."

"Joanna has been, ever since I joined the faculty at Wexford. She put up a fight when I was up for being hired, but she was new and didn't have the clout she has now. What does that prove? It's nothing new."

"Don't you think it's suspect that one of the panel members is also in line to take over your job? Wilcox is a bad man."

"Welcome to the politics of a conservatory. They said he was brought in because he'd be impartial. I'm sure Joanna had nothing to do with that decision."

"He's incompetent, and about the opposite from impartial."

"Sandra, I can't do anything. My hands are tied. I have no friends there at the moment. No one wants to touch this, in case they rule against me, which is very possible."

"Wilcox knows you from a long time ago."

Dobra paused. "He maybe looked familiar, but ... I don't think so."

"No. He was going on about how this wasn't the first time he'd seen you act inappropriately."

Dobra paused again. "What's his first name, again?"

"Allan. He got his doctorate at UCLA, in piano. Some other students said he was going on about it the first day, for ten minutes."

Dobra sighed. "This is all intriguing, Sandra, but how does this help either of us?"

"Go and tell the panel what is going on."

"Tell them what?"

"This is a revenge tactic."

"Sandra ... This investigation is not about me and Joanna Warner, or her son. Even if it is revenge, for god knows what, that's not why I'm in this situation."

"But if you can show that they are out to make you go down..."

"Then what? At very best, they'll take them off the panel. At worst, they'll think it's an attempt to deflect the attention away from me, and then I'm really finished. Either way, I'm still facing the same investigation."

Sandra let out a frustrated breath. She suddenly felt like the air had been knocked from her... It all made so much sense, just a minute ago... 

"Can I ask you one more thing?"

Dobra's voice was resigned now. "I guess it's kind of late now, to worry about this conversation having happened. Go ahead."

Sandra took a deep breath.

"Did you do what they're accusing you of?"

-------

Dr. Dobra hung up the phone, shaken. When he had dialed his old friend in the UCLA piano department after talking to Sandra, he had been expecting to get the cold shoulder. News of scandal could travel very quickly.

But the news had not reached the west coast yet.

He had certainly not been expecting to make a few more calls and arrive at the information he just had heard.

Evan Scurly. The Scurly family strikes again.

Now I know why Joanna Warner hates me... 

He suddenly regretted not accepting Sandra's number, but he also realized he had to be extremely careful. It was best if they didn't talk again.

Tomorrow I will do my part. Hopefully, Sandra can do hers.

-------

Richard and Emily found Sandra just as she was hanging up the phone.

"Hi, Sandra."

"Hey..."

Sandra seemed suddenly to be stunned, as she looked at them.

"Are you all right?" Emily asked.

"What's wrong?"

Sandra started crying. "I'm in trouble."

"What?"

"I'm going to get expelled."

"What?" Emily repeated.

"Expelled? Why?"

Richard and Emily were suddenly kneeling before her as she sat doubled over in her chair.

"I got into an argument with one of the Wexford board members."

Richard and Emily looked at each other, helpless.

"It was about the thing with Dobra," Sandra added.

"But why were you in an argument?"

"I said some mean things about Wilcox. Then I found out he's her son."

"He's this board member's son?"

"Yes. And she then turned around and basically told me to start packing."

"But ... There must be some mistake. You can't just get expelled for getting into an argument."

"I can for failing theory."

"But you got all As!"

"Which they can take away since I didn't take the exams."

"This is ridiculous!" Richard cried out. "You can retake them."

"It doesn't matter. I'm in Wilcox's class, now," Sandra said, resignedly. She regained control of her tears, and wiped the free ones away. "Who can I go to? Dobra was head of the department. Connelly is acting head, but she's probably distancing herself. Dobra said everyone is running away from him."

Emily and Richard looked at her for a long moment.

"You talked to Dobra?"

"Yeah. I called him."

"Where did you get his number?"

Sandra gestured to the faculty directory that was on the desk.

"Where did you get that?"

"I stole it."

"Stole it?" They both looked at her like she had gone crazy.

"From the president's office."

Richard and Emily again looked at each other, shaking their heads.

"Sandra, what the hell happened since lunch?" Richard asked at last.

Sandra recounted everything she could remember about the afternoon.

"What did he say when he saw the melodic dictation?" Richard asked, when she related the pop midterm exam.

"He started saying it wasn't what he had played, and said most of it was in the wrong rhythm ... He basically stuttered around for a thirty seconds, and then picked up his bag and ran out."

"Did he know you had it right?"

"Oh, he knew. That bastard knew exactly what had just happened."

Sandra then told them about the meeting in the president's office and the call with Dr. Dobra.

"Then my mom called to see how I am doing." Sandra suddenly laughed wildly. " 'How am I doing... ' I had to hang up, and that's when you came in."

So much for shielding her from the Dobra situation,  Richard thought, running his hand through his hair.

"This can't be happening," Emily said.

"It is."

"They're not going to expel you," Richard said thoughtfully. "It's ridiculous. You haven't done anything wrong. Even if they enforce the missed exams, they have to offer you a chance at retaking. Dobra skipped the exams, not you."

Sandra considered his words.

"Richard's right," Emily agreed, although her face was still a mask of shock.

"I don't know," Sandra said at last. "I so do not want to be worrying about this right now."

"Yeah, it sucks," Richard agreed.

There was a long moment of silence as the three of them considered the situation.

"Come on, let's get some dinner," Emily said gently. "We can talk more on the way over."

Sandra shook her head. "I can't. I'm too exhausted. And, I need to write out a statement, since my last one will never see the light. I think Jensen was ashamed of this Warner lady. Maybe there's an in, with him."

"All right, I'll go down to Crapler and pick us up some dinner," Emily offered.

Richard thought for a moment.

"I'll write something too," he said.

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"I'll write a letter of support. Maybe we can also get some other students to."

Sandra nodded. "I was going to ask if you would," she said quietly. "I promised Dobra I'd try to help however I could."

-------

The weekend passed slowly. Richard and Emily practiced the Hindemith and their solo material, since Sandra was still unwilling to work on the Serenade with them until after she had a few days to get back into singing. With the events surrounding Dr. Dobra's investigation, her first two days back at Wexford had not resulted in any practicing at all.

Sandra seemed to spend the weekend in the practice rooms, except when she shared quiet meals with Richard and Emily at the cafeteria. Her mood was distant. She said she was still worried about Dr. Dobra, and still thought about Billy as well.

Growing somewhat concerned at her dark disposition, Emily and Richard took turns checking up on her. Emily told him that Sandra would need some time and space, and Richard agreed, but he also wanted to keep an eye on her every few hours, just in case.

They always found her in a practice room, staring at her music. She'd smile wistfully and say she was getting through her songs, slowly.

Sunday afternoon, Richard was wandering down the row of practice rooms looking for her, when his ear picked up something unusual.

Richard heard a familiar melody quietly cutting through the din of orchestral excerpts, solo runs, and exercises. It was like a sad, graceful bird gliding just above the surface of an angry sea.

He stopped walking down the hallway, and leaned against the wall as he listened to the piano playing... It's the final scene of Romeo and Juliet,  he suddenly realized.

He peeked in through the window, and was surprised to see Sandra at the piano.

He waited until she trailed off, and then knocked. She didn't appear to hear, so he quietly went in.

"Hey," he said.

Sandra stared at the piano. Richard looked at the music stand. It was open to one of her songs for the recital. He was vaguely wondering where she had learned the ballet music, when she spoke with a haunted tone.

"He was in the fire when we were listening to that part," she said quietly.

Sandra played the melody again, and Richard fought off the urge to cry.

Again she trailed off, and Richard knelt down to embrace her.

She melted as she began to cry in earnest.

Richard held her. He had no idea what else to do, or say...

-------

Sandra eventually pulled out from his arms. She had cried for a very long time, she knew.

"Come back to the room," he said gently.

Sandra shook her head. "I have to practice."

"You look exhausted."

"I have to practice."

Richard waited for a long time, and then kissed her.

"I'll come check on you in a bit, then."

Sandra nodded, and then Richard left.

She turned to the music on the stand. She stared through it for a long time, and then played a note on the piano.

She opened her mouth, and then closed it, as she had done countless times that weekend.

She no longer wanted to sing.

The art had been ripped out of her.

-------

Richard and Emily were working at the desks later that evening.

"I should go check on Sandra. It's almost eleven thirty."

"Yeah," Richard agreed. "Let's just finish this analysis and we'll both go."

"Okay. What do you have for the start of the last phrase?"

Richard started to read off his chords, when the door opened. All thought of theory instantly vanished when they saw Sandra's face.

They shot up, but not before Sandra was already on the floor.

"Oh my god," Emily cried.

"Sandra?" Richard said, as he picked her up and brought her into the room.

Sandra didn't respond as he put her on the bed.

"Richard, what's happening? Should I call 911?"

"I don't know ... She is breathing."

Sandra suddenly stirred, and opened her eyes.

"Are you okay?" Richard asked gently.

She stared up at him with stricken eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked, a little more urgently.

Emily hung up the phone and knelt next to Richard.

"You just fainted," Emily said.

Sandra started to cry.

Richard and Emily waited, their hearts racing.

Something's wrong. Something's wrong... 

At last, Sandra opened her eyes again.

Emily and Richard both felt fear.

Something was very wrong.

"I can't do it," Sandra whispered.

"Can't do what?"

She looked at them, and then squeezed her eyes tight.

"I can't do the recital."

Richard looked at Emily, wondering if he had heard correctly. The stunned look on her face confirmed Sandra's words.

"Why not?"

She got expelled?

"I can't sing."

"You can't sing? What's wrong?" Richard asked, worried.

"Are you hurt?" Emily asked.

"I don't want to sing."

"What do you mean, you don't want to?"

"I tried, all weekend. I thought that if I locked myself in the practice rooms, I'd eventually want to sing. But I don't. I can't. Not with everything that's happened."

Her voice came in spurts, between uncontrolled sobs.

"I try, but there's nothing there."

"It will come," Emily said gently, feeling somewhat relieved that the problem was not permanent. She stroked Sandra's hair. "Things will get better."

"No ... I haven't sung at all in over a week. I can't do the recital like this."

"Sandra..."

"I'm sorry. You have to do it without me."

"Sandra, we can't do it without you! You are on half the program!"

"I'm sorry."

"Why don't you come with us tomorrow morning and we'll try the Serenade. You just need to get back into the music."

Sandra sat up. "No! Emily, it's not going to happen. I've tried. I'm about to explode. I feel like I've been run over. Before I came into the room just now, I was in the bathroom, puking. Last night, too. I am so wound up it's making me sick. With Billy dying, and with Dobra suspended, and being threatened by that woman ... that's too much right now. I'm freaking out about the recital! I can't freak out, or I'll do something stupid! I just can't!" Sandra frantically gripped at the sheets on the bed.

"Sandra, calm down! Dobra is not gone yet. And who knows what that woman will do?"

"She's on the board! And Dobra's probably going to go down. It's his word against some student's. With Wilcox and his mother out to get him, he has no chance. And neither do I!"

Richard and Emily looked at each other. Emily was crying, now.

"You just need to rest," Richard said gently.

"I need to be alone."

"Sandra..."

"I'm not doing the recital!" she said, her voice edgy.

"We can't do it without you!"

"Then we have to cancel it." As she said it, she again cried in anguish.

"Sandra, please, let's just talk."

"I can't. I just need to have some time to myself right now."

"We're not leaving you alone."

There was a momentary standoff.

After some time, Sandra rose from the bed and stepped between them. She sat at her desk, put her head down, and cried.

Richard had his hands on his forehead, as he struggled to remain calm.

Be strong for Sandra,  he reminded himself.

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

Be strong. For her. For us... 

He pulled on Emily, and she reluctantly followed him out of the room. They went down the stairs. Since no one was in the common room, they took to a couch and spoke in quiet voices.

"We have to give her time, like you said," Richard said.

Emily's expression was pained. "But after everything we've been through? Cancel?"

"Sandra is more important than the recital. I hate to say this, but I kind of wondered if this was coming."

Emily eventually nodded, understanding. It didn't make it easier, though.

"Me too," she admitted.

"Here's my idea. I'll stay in my room tonight, just so she's not feeling crowded up in your room. You just keep an eye on her, let her have some time. Maybe the morning will bring fresh perspective."

Emily sighed resignedly. "I sure hope so. And if not?"

Richard looked off in the distance. "She's been through a lot, Em. Too much, obviously. When I found her in the practice room this afternoon, I knew she had snapped. We need to do what's best for her. So if she's still feeling the same way in the morning..."

Richard fought to whisper the verdict.

"Then, we cancel."

-------

Monday morning, Emily woke up, and found Sandra still sitting at her desk. She wondered if Sandra had even slept.

Emily had had a fitful night. Every time she woke and glanced at the desk, Sandra was there, holding her head in her hands and staring off.

Maybe she's reconsidered. Maybe Richard was right. A night of thinking may have done her well.

"Hey," Emily said gently.

Sandra just turned her red eyes to her for a moment, before staring at the desk again.

Maybe not.

"Did you sleep?"

Sandra just shrugged.

Emily looked at the clock as she sat up. "Are you going to eat before going to class?"

Sandra ignored the question.

"Can we talk about last night?"

No answer.

"Are you still feeling the same way? About the recital?"

Sandra took a breath. "I'm not doing it. I can't, Emily. And I can't discuss it anymore. Otherwise, I'm going to go insane. Maybe I already am."

"Sandra, come on ... I know you're hurting. I know you are feeling like you are being crushed by the world. But, you need to go on!"

"Just stop, Emily. I can't deal with that, now. I can't play music in this state. I haven't sung in a week and a half."

"We can't cancel the recital, Sandra. Not after all the work we've done! I mean, all our families are coming. My dad is coming. Allison is flying from Australia, partly for this! We can't just call them and tell them to cancel their plans! I can't do it, Sandra! I can't!"

"Then I will," Sandra said, standing up and gathering her things.

Emily groaned in frustration. "Why will you not let us help you through this? We love you!"

Sandra took a deep shuddering breath. She whispered, "I'm just not able to talk. I can't right now. It hurts too much. I don't want to feel love, yet." Her voice grew thin and distraught. "I can't mix in another emotion right now, or it will tear me to shreds!"

She looked at Emily for a long moment. "I just can't," she whispered.

Sandra looked around, and grabbed her Verklaerte Nacht score and baton, and zipped up her bag. "I need to go. If I'm going to go by the events office before German, I can't go to breakfast."

Emily put out a hand as Sandra walked towards the door.

"I'll do it, Sandra," Emily said resignedly, her voice shaking even more than her arm. "Just please, go eat. You have hardly eaten. Just, let me do it. You don't need to go through this, in your state. I'll go down now, and cancel it."

Sandra nodded after a moment.

Emily looked at her one last time.

"Sandra, if I cancel this slot, there's no changing our minds later. There's a waiting list twenty deep of people waiting for hall time in April. Our spot will turn into someone else's recital within the hour."

Sandra didn't move.

"I'm not doing the recital," she said with grim finality.

Emily sighed, feeling like someone had shaken her insides up violently. Parts of her floated in places where they shouldn't.

"I'm sorry," Sandra said, her voice cracking.

Then she pushed by and disappeared.

Emily moved to the window, watching the gentle rain patter on her window. Sandra eventually appeared, walking slowly towards the cafeteria, oblivious to the weather.

With a heavy heart, Emily put on her clothes and walked over to the conservatory. So this is it, then... 

-------

Sandra had thought she had plumbed the depths of pain and sorrow within her. She thought she had found the lowest level of her soul, the dark flat place where she now wandered.

She was walking from piano class to the practice rooms in a trance, when she saw it on the bulletin board where the upcoming recitals were posted.

In thin black letters, someone had written CANCELLED on their recital program.

Someone had officially desecrated her dream with a felt tip marker.

She tore at the sheet, ripping it from the board and crumpling it up violently. She was vaguely aware of stares from the few people who saw the act, but she had no other thought for them.

Even though she knew Emily was going to cancel it, it hadn't really hit her until then. She hadn't realized how much it would hurt to see months of hope, excitement, and hard work be abandoned.

Months of love, destroyed.

All in an instant.



-------

Chapter 32: Schwer betont


Gary Menlos scanned the rehearsal room from his usual back corner spot.

"Mark," he said, nodding his head at the principal cello player. "Go ahead. Take it from the beginning."

Mark set his cello aside and walked up to the podium with his baton.

Gary waited as Mark flipped the score back to the first page. He looked around again, surprised at the turnout. A number of string players had shown up for the practice orchestra. He had hinted yet again, at the last full orchestra rehearsal, that anyone who came to the conducting class to play would perhaps gain a little edge when it came time to determining the seating for the final orchestra concert. Obviously the promise of Shostakovich Five stimulated them... 

Mark began to conduct, pulsing out a slow rhythm for the low strings. As they had already a dozen times, the cellos and basses played their descending lines.

Gary watched Mark for a minute. Then he called out over the orchestra and they stopped.

"Hey, hey! You need to cue your concertmistress Suzanne, there! I know you play the cello, but at least try to give everyone else a little attention?"

Everyone tittered.

Gary held out a silencing hand. "I know Suzanne knows this piece like the back of her hand, since she just performed it in Europe, but still..."

Mark checked the score. "Sorry. How about we go from..."

"Just start again," Gary interrupted. "Get them involved more! You're just following them, Mark. It's supposed to be the other way around!"

Mark looked at him, and then nodded. He started again.

Gary sighed quietly. As great as a cellist Mark was, he had no idea how to conduct.

Gary let him go for a few minutes, resisting the urge to stop him again. Right before the piece turned livelier, he whistled.

"All right, not bad. Not great, but not bad either. Don't do this to them," he said, demonstrating an opening fist that Mark had used to cue a few entrances. "We're not playing catch here."

More laughter ensued, and even Mark joined in with a chuckle.

Gary knew he could take it. He'd watched Mark grow as a musician for four years. He already had assigned him to the principal cello part for the Shostakovich concert.

"Okay, okay. This is serious music, here," he said, over the amused noises of the musicians. "Let's keep going."

He again scanned the room. He looked to the other corner for perhaps the tenth time.

How strange...  Usually she was eagerly looking at him, yearning to be called up to conduct. Not everyone got a chance every class, but she was always willing. Today, she was just staring down at her lap at a crumpled piece of paper. Her baton was not in her hand as it always was lately. Her face was a mask.

He vacillated for a moment, and then called her name anyway.

"Sandra. Can you continue from where we stopped?"

For a moment, she didn't seem to hear him. Then she nodded once, and took out her baton from her bag. As she walked slowly to the podium, Gary almost called her out about how droopily she was walking, and how uninspiring that was to the waiting musicians. Something made him check his words, though.

Sandra arrived at the podium and stared down at the score.

Bows were positioned impatiently, even before she made any movement.

At last she sighed, her mind clearly somewhere far away. She held up her baton, and looked up. Gary thought her eyes were unusually tired.

She gave a few tentative pulses and the orchestra responded unevenly. Before a few measures had even passed, Sandra had dropped her hands. The orchestra petered out.

"Sorry," she said, almost inaudibly.

Gary watched her for a moment, considering dismissing her from the podium. Something was sorely affecting her.

"Hear it before you start!" Gary finally called out, pacing around in the back. He'd give it one more try. Maybe the music would distract her.

Sandra just stared silently. Then, slowly, she flipped pages, moving deeper into the score.

Gary watched patiently, not sure what she was doing.

"Schwer betont, " Sandra announced quietly. "From there, please."

There was a moment of confusion, and then the players turned to the later section in their parts.

When Sandra looked up, Gary nodded as he recognized the music in her exhausted eyes.

With a decisive hand, Sandra started them. The entrance was feeble, but this time it was not Sandra's fault. She stopped them immediately, holding out a hand.

"Schwer betont, " she repeated, looking at them one by one. "Again, please."

This time they responded by digging into the strings with their bows. Sandra asked for more with a 'come hither' wave of her fingers. She turned to each section, cueing and leading them through this forceful part of the music.

Gary watched her closely. There was a mix of sadness and pain in her eyes which even he could see from the back corner. He could also see how it was affecting those in the front rows of the orchestra. They had stopped staring in ennui at their music, and were suddenly following her instead. Maybe it was the fact Sandra had skipped forward to a section they had not already played ten times, but Gary thought it was more than that.

As the music grew introspective again, Sandra slowed the pacing. The violin arpeggios were almost too drawn out, Gary thought at first. They were too slow compared to what came before, but then Sandra balanced it by holding the chords that followed to match that feeling.

She wasn't just beating time, but actually shaping the phrases consciously. He realized he was too used to watching the metronomic hand waving of the other students.

This is quite good... 

She was beginning to pull music out of them he had thought impossible, in this laid back, informal situation.

With a final note in the low instruments, she let the section fade away as she lowered her hands.

There was a long moment of silence.

"Well, keep going," Gary said quietly, his voice carrying over the orchestra.

Sandra shook her head, her face suddenly emotional.

That's it, then... ?

Suddenly, a low rumble grew in the room as the orchestra quietly applauded her with their feet, having enjoyed her work.

Sandra looked around, unsure whether to return to her seat.

"Keep going," Gary repeated louder, not letting the opportunity pass.

While it was his usual practice to have one person go for no more than a handful of minutes if they had things under control, he didn't care at the moment.

The quiet rumble continued, growing a little louder until Sandra straightened and held her hands up. She never smiled, but at least seemed a little more alive as she looked at them. The orchestra readied themselves immediately.

"Sehr breit, " she whispered.

At the sound of the first held chord, Gary shivered. Sandra slowly led the musicians through the chorale section, and then swayed slightly as she cued the call and responses between the cellos and the solo violin.

This is sublime... 

Gary caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced over at the door to the rehearsal room, which had been left open. Two students were peeking in to watch, instrument cases on their backs.

Gary waved them in, and then a few more people came in behind them, drawn in by the sound of the performance.

He waved them in as well, and then he turned back to the orchestra, moving closer to Sandra by stepping amidst the last row of violinists.

Gary felt his gut tighten, realizing his favorite section of the piece was coming up. He'd not assigned going this far, not wanting people to butcher it.

He held his breath as Sandra left a couple of seconds of silence hanging in the air, before the ethereal part that was to follow.

Ever so gently, she cued the tender harmonics and double ascending string lines. With one hand she then established the pizzicato off-beats, while leading the violins through their floating, airy figures.

Gary shuddered at the look in her eyes as she turned to cue the solo violin for its melody.

Sandra looked at Suzanne directly. Her eyes begged for everything she had.

Suzanne responded exquisitely, playing the high melody above the shimmering orchestra part. Sandra's right hand and baton kept the delicate accompaniment on pace, while with her left hand she pulled on Suzanne as if with an invisible string. He could almost see the sparks between Sandra and Suzanne as they danced, their eyes fixed on each other's.

Waves of emotion washed through Gary's body as he watched and listened. Then Sandra turned and cued Mark for his answering lines on the cello. Sandra's duet with Suzanne turned into a trio as the orchestra supported the ecstatic moment with its gentle arpeggiated filigree. Again Sandra begged for more with her left hand.

For a while, Sandra closed her eyes as the music swirled around her. Gary looked around, wondering if he was the only one who felt like crying. Every person in the room was riveted, including even more visitors now crowding in near the door.

She had released herself to the music. It was all her, now. Despite not playing a single instrument or singing a single note, she was making the music in the room happen.

The piece moved forwards, and Gary dared not stop her. He just watched, wondering if he was really seeing this happening.

He knew early on that Sandra had some talent. That much had been clear, despite her first fumbling attempts at conducting. Even today, there were moments when she made some mistakes in her patterns, or forgot a cue, Gary admitted. It was far from technically perfect. The orchestra had mostly covered it, though, caught up by her performance.

She had obviously practiced hard on her conducting this semester. But this? The passion, the abandon...  That could not be learned, ever ... Gary could teach the 'how' of conducting, but no one in the world could teach the 'why'.

The players responded increasingly to her urging looks as her passion began to spread throughout the room over the next few minutes. She pushed them up through a wild section, and then relaxed as the music retreated once more, still unwilling to reach a full peak. Many times, she would look urgently at Suzanne, pressing her for more and more feeling, which made Suzanne's first violin section follow accordingly. This in turn drove the other musicians to dig deeper with their bows as well.

The area by the doorway was now packed with people. Students, teachers, and administrators alike had peered in from the hallway to see what had caused the gathering crowd, only to find themselves drawn into the room and rooted to the floor by the scene. A few violin players had even taken out their instruments and joined the orchestra in the back row, reading over the shoulders of those in front of them.

The music built up again, and Sandra drove them into a frenzy. The orchestra threatened to shake the rehearsal space apart as the climactic moment approached. Sandra broadened her stroke, drawing out the long chords as they reached the moment of bliss. She seemed to grow taller as the resonance of the music swept through her like a raging flood.

The musicality was so clear in everything she did, and her melodic sense was so overwhelming, that she even stopped moving her arms for a few ecstatic measures, seemingly conducting just with a few glances and small movements of her head.

Gary found himself struggling to breathe. His face hurt from emotion.

The music receded from its heights with great feeling. Sandra delicately pulled an arpeggio out of Suzanne, as Mark led the cellos through the chorale melody towards the calming chord which brought resolution.

Gary held his breath, waiting for Sandra to continue.

Suddenly she dropped her hands to the podium and slumped forward, leaning on her arms for support. She stared at the score, breathing hard.

The orchestra stayed stone still, bows still held on strings as they waited for Sandra. Gary sensed something was wrong, though, and ran around behind the orchestra, pushing past the murmuring spectators.

He reached Sandra and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice trembling.

She stood and turned to him, her eyes haunted. Her chest heaved and she was flushed red. She shook her head slightly, her face drawn and unsmiling, as she blinked at him.

Gary looked at her for a few long moments, trying to read her eyes. They were infinitely deep as they looked back at his.

"Can you keep going?" he whispered urgently.

She nodded slowly.

Gary thought he knew what true amazement felt like at that moment, but then he looked down at the music stand.

"My god..." he whispered hoarsely, taking an involuntary step back.

The score was still open to the page marked 'Schwer betont.'

He looked at her again, and then out at the orchestra, unable to breathe. They were still poised, every single one of them. All around, he saw the intense faces he was used to seeing during concerts, when they were in their element and full of adrenaline. But that was always under bright lights, in a concert hall filled with hundreds of people, and after weeks of long rehearsals.

This had happened over the course of ten minutes in a cramped and dim rehearsal room...

"My god," he whispered again, looking at Sandra.

He moved away, stunned, almost afraid to be near her. He had not even noticed the lack of page turns on her part, so caught up he had been by following her conducting.

He could not remember ever being so astounded that his arms shook visibly.

From his new vantage point beside the first violins, Gary watched the musicians as they followed Sandra again, into the 'Sehr ruhig' section. He was just a spectator now, part of the audience. The last critical bit of his eye as a teacher had disappeared, and he just listened to the music unfurl for the next several minutes.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned slowly, for a moment growing angry at the interruption. John Wiltshire, the head of the violin department, leaned in to him.

Gary relaxed, glad it was not a student he disliked.

"Who is she?" John whispered, his brow knotted.

Gary got close to his ear. "A singer."

"A singer? What? Where does she conduct?"

"She's a freshman, here at Wexford."

John's eyes widened in disbelief for several long moments. Then he let out a breath and shook his head as he watched her again. Gary was not surprised at his reaction. He didn't believe his own words either.

The final two minutes were sublime. Sandra hardly moved now, keeping the orchestra at its quietest. She again pulled on the violins with one hand as she guided them through the final melody of resolution.

The last two chords came gently, as if eternal peace had been found. Together, they lasted for almost a minute. With infinitesimal control, Sandra took them down to silence.

For five long seconds, they were all in a world without sound. Sandra had her hands lowered in front of her, staring down at something that was not in the room.

Then she turned and faced Gary, her eyes unseeing and her mouth desperately drawing for air. Her baton slipped from her shaking hand, as if in slow motion.

At the same instant, the room exploded in thunderous roar as musicians and impromptu audience alike stomped their feet and clapped with everything they had.

Sandra staggered sideways, losing her footing on the edge of the podium. Gary rushed to her as she crashed down against the wall and looked around in confusion. The musicians who could see her stopped their stomping, suddenly concerned. The people further away could not see, though, and they continued the uproar.

Gary grabbed at her shoulders to help her steady herself as she struggled to her feet. Sandra shook loose and pushed past him. The noisy crowd cleared a slight path as she ran to the door.

Gary stood rooted as she disappeared. The applause quieted at last, as people realized she was gone and shushes spread through the room.

He looked around helplessly, as all eyes turned to him. He reached down and grabbed her baton from the podium, his hand trembling as he touched it.

"Dismissed," he whispered, and then he hurried out of the room.

-------

Richard was about to do a last run through of the Bach piece he was practicing, before heading to dinner. His mind was quite distracted, given the situation with Sandra.

The cancellation of the recital was the least of his worries. He was constantly thinking of her depressed and distant state, and wondering what he and Emily could do to help. The only thing that kept coming to mind was giving her time and space, as hard as that was.

He and Emily had continued trying to keep track of her throughout the day. Richard had found her walking back from German, and had checked to see how she was doing. Her answer was clear in her conflicted, red eyes. She went straight back to the dorm to sleep.

Emily said that Sandra had been in piano class at noon, but then she had disappeared, despite telling Emily she was going to go practice. Richard had waited by her theory class at three. He was not surprised that she never showed up, since he doubted she would ever again step foot in a class that Wilcox was teaching. She likely did not know that Wilcox had been replaced by Ms. Connelly for the day, both in his class and hers. Richard did not know why, since no explanation had been offered.

Rather than begin another fruitless search of the dorm and the building, Richard instead went to practice, intending to find Sandra after conducting class. If she was there.

If not... 

At first, he thought it was an earthquake, and he looked around his small practice room in surprise. Then voices joined the deep rumble, and he recognized the sound of applause.

When it went on for more than a few seconds, he went out of his practice room and followed the hallways towards the sound.

Things had quieted by the time he reached the rehearsal space. He checked his watch. It was a little early for conducting class to be over, but people were filing out, talking loudly and grinning. Richard recognized the orchestra conductor as he stepped out of the room in a rush and looked around quickly, before hurrying into the stairwell and disappearing. A woman followed right after him, and also looked around before going down the hallway in the other direction.

It was a strange moment which conflicted with the mood of the boisterous crowd, but Richard dismissed it. Maybe it wasn't conducting class,  he thought, surprised at the numbers of people he saw, and the presence of a few faculty and staff members. It felt like a spectacle.

Faculty awards meeting?

He watched for Sandra, not sure if he was expecting to see her.

He entered the room as the doorway finally cleared some. The room was set up for the orchestra, and musicians everywhere were putting away stringed instruments. Richard approached a nearby violin player as he loosened his bow.

"What just happened?" Richard asked.

"This girl just put Mr. Menlos to shame," he said, with a laugh.

"What?"

"She just got up there and..." He shrugged, unable to explain.

"Who?" Richard asked, a knot forming in his stomach for some reason.

"Um ... I don't remember her name right now. Susie, or..."

"Where is she?" Richard asked, looking around again. It seemed clear, however, that the person that had been the focus of everyone's thunderous applause was no longer in the room.

"She ran out. Someone said she fainted or something."

"Did she have blonde hair?" Richard asked, his voice urgent. "Was it Sandra? Sandra d'Arcy? A singer?"

The guy turned, recognition in his eyes. "Yeah, that's her. She's a singer. She sang a few weeks ago in the class."

Richard muttered thanks, and then ran out of the room.

-------

Suzanne pushed the women's bathroom door open slowly. At first, the room was quiet, but then she heard the sharp intake of breath from the changing area.

"Sandra?" she called.

There was no answer.

Suzanne cracked open the door to one of the changing rooms, and found Sandra seated in a chair with her face in her hands. She was quietly sobbing.

"Are you all right?" Suzanne asked, kneeling beside her.

Still there was no reply.

"Hey," she said gently, running a hand on her back. "Do you want me to call for help?"

Sandra at last acknowledged her with a shake of her head as she continued to cry.

"Okay. Are you just overwhelmed?"

Sandra nodded.

Suzanne pulled a chair over and sat next to her.

"Just relax," she said soothingly, as she caressed Sandra's back and hair. "This is a tough place to go to school, no matter what you do, and no matter how you do it."

Suzanne just waited patiently for a while. At last, Sandra started to calm down a little.

"You were amazing back there," Suzanne said. "You are so easy to follow, and you bring so much out of the players. I had chills the whole time."

Sandra looked up out of her hands, wondering who was talking to her. Recognition crossed her face.

"I'm Suzanne. Your concertmistress."

Sandra blinked at her.

"How long have you been conducting?" Suzanne asked. "I've never seen you before."

"Just since I took this class this semester." Her words came out strangled.

"God ... You are a natural. You must really know this piece. I never saw you look at the music. Did you even use the score at all?"

Sandra didn't immediately reply, trying to calm the shakes that still wracked her body.

"I'm Sandra," she said at last.

"I know," Suzanne said. Then she laughed slightly. "So does everyone who was in that room a few minutes ago."

"I don't even remember how I got here. I don't remember much at all after the piece ended."

"You looked like you were going to faint, and then you ran out."

"I don't remember that at all."

"You seemed possessed the whole time you were up there. Your eyes ... They were just so full of emotion."

Sandra looked at her sadly. "I just lost a childhood friend last week," she said.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Suzanne said sincerely.

"And I screwed up my life yesterday."

"What? How?"

Sandra ignored the question. "I kept thinking of him, and the music, and..."

"Well it came through. Whatever you did, you were amazing. Did you see the place packed with people?"

"I guess."

"My teacher was even there. It's like word spread through the building..."

"I feel embarrassed," Sandra said meekly.

"Embarrassed? Why?"

"I made a fool of myself."

"Made a fool — how?"

"It's just a conducting class, and I took over like I thought I had my own orchestra ... No one conducts that long in the class. Why did Mr. Menlos let me go on?"

"Because he was too stunned to do anything else! I know shock when I see it. When he came up to the podium, when you stopped in the middle ... he had a look on his face that I've never seen before. And I've watched him conduct some pretty amazing moments on stage in the last four years."

"But all the people, and the other students ... I just wanted to conduct that middle section because it was short, and then sit down again."

"But you went on ... Listen. I took that class a couple of years ago, and it's pretty damn boring to play the same thing over and over again as someone just waves their hands around. We'd almost do better if they just started us and sat down, in many cases. When Gary asked me to come down and be concertmistress for this session, I almost turned him down. Two hours of repeating the same five minutes of music, with no real understanding ... Um, no thanks. But, he's been good to me, and I know the solo violin part really well right now, so I did it. And, it was pretty much the same old for the first hour."

Suzanne got closer to Sandra. "Then, you came up. And at first I was like, 'This is going to be good... ' You looked pretty out of it. I kept waiting for Gary to say something about the way you were acting dead up there, but he didn't. And even after you took a little control and switched us to the different section, I was still just wanting to get out of there.

"But then, you changed. You looked like you had been up there for years. Suddenly, I was like, 'Hello?' This is no run of the mill conducting student. After a few minutes, I almost thought you were someone famous Gary had brought in to mess with us. But you didn't look old enough. And yet, there you were, conducting like Solti or something."

"No..." Sandra dismissed. "I mess up all the time. I can't even get my patterns right."

"Who cares!" Suzanne exclaimed. "Once we're going, we're either ignoring the conductor, or, if they're really good, following the music in their bodies, or in their eyes. We're not just there watching if you go left or right with your hands, unless it's vital for the cue. You left it all up there, Sandra, and we picked it up and ran with it."

Sandra looked at her doubtfully.

"Do you remember that part after you stopped the first time? Where there are the harmonics, and then I have a solo?" Suzanne hummed a little of the melody.

"That's my favorite part of the piece," Sandra said quietly.

"Mine too! And I've been playing this piece all year in a chamber group, where we have no conductor. I lead that part, with that high melody. But, when you cued me, I just followed your eyes. You were probably beating time or something, but you could have been twiddling your thumbs, and I wouldn't have cared. You just knew exactly how to lead it, just by looking at me. I felt chills in my spine during that part."

Sandra had turned to her, her eyes a little brighter now.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it was one of the sweetest moments playing in orchestra I've felt in a long time."

"I felt it too," Sandra said, some life creeping into her voice for the first time. "Your playing was just ... It felt like..."

"What?" Suzanne urged, as Sandra suddenly turned away.

"Nothing, it's dumb."

"No, tell me!"

Sandra turned back to her, considering before she spoke at last. "I felt like I was inside of you, playing the violin with you. It's the first thing that's felt right at all, in days."

Suzanne smiled sincerely. "Yes, and you were inside me! I told you, I just followed you!"

Sandra breathed deeply several times. "This is all too much."

"What is your instrument? Or are you here for conducting?"

"I'm a soprano."

Suzanne laughed incredulously. "Jeez, you mean you don't even play in an orchestra regularly?"

"No. I've never played in an orchestra, and until this semester, never conducted one."

"That's absolutely crazy! No wonder Gary looked like he'd seen a ghost! He's probably running around the building right now looking for his next protégé."

"No..." Sandra cried out. "I just took this class for fun!"

"Do you sing as well as you conduct?"

"I should hope so, since I don't know how to conduct," Sandra deflected vaguely.

"I know you probably love singing, being a singer and all, but you should seriously look at conducting. I mean, damn! If you can get that out of a pickup orchestra in ten minutes, missed cues and patterns and whatever, imagine what you'd do when you tried for real. I mean, you have talent. When you conduct, it's like the music is part of you. It's not like you're just telling us what's on the page, which is what everyone else in that class does, or not even. With you, it's coming from here," Suzanne said, tapping her chest. "I can't think of anyone who wouldn't want to play for you."

Sandra wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Thanks, Suzanne."

Suzanne smiled sweetly at her, and hugged her. "To top it off, you are also just musically gorgeous to look at. Your face, and the way you hold arms ... when you were conducting, I thought I was seeing a beautiful vision."

Sandra closed her eyes...

-------

 ... and she shivered at Suzanne's words.

Sandra looked again at her sparkling eyes and smiling face close to hers.

Who is this woman?

Her head kept saying that Suzanne was just being overly complimentary, but somewhere deep within her, something was whispering the truth.

That moment during the piece when they had locked eyes had been extraordinary. Feelings that she thought were gone forever were suddenly coursing through her.

Then she remembered the recital.

Sandra stood up abruptly.

"Thanks for finding me," she said sadly.

Suzanne stood close to her. "Of course. I guessed, and I got lucky. I was worried when you fell of the podium."

"I fell off the podium?" Sandra repeated, her face turning red.

"Pretty much," Suzanne said, smiling apologetically.

"Now I'm really embarrassed. I don't even know how to walk."

Suzanne just laughed. "I should really go get my violin, before something happens to it."

"Can I come back with you? I left all my stuff there, too."

"Of course."

As Suzanne reached for the door to the changing stall, Sandra took her hand.

"Really, thank you for finding me. You play amazing. I should have said so a while ago. You made my knees weak several times."

Suzanne smiled, and then hugged her. "Thanks. But it was probably just your low blood sugar," she said, smiling in jest.

"No, I'm sure it wasn't."

"I do wish I had a better violin," she said.

"Better violin?"

"I've outgrown that instrument. And during that solo, I wished I had something better, so I could give you even more."

"You gave me everything," Sandra said, squeezing her hand.

They stepped out of the changing room and into the bathroom. Sandra caught sight of her blotchy face and the disarray of her hair in the mirror, and cried out. "God, is that what I looked like up there? No wonder people were piling into the room: to gawk at the crazy-looking girl trying to conduct!"

Suzanne laughed, as she helped Sandra put herself together again. She was glad Sandra was showing some life. Her depressed state did not fit her well at all.

Still, something was clearly disturbing her.

"Do you live in the dorm?" Suzanne asked.

"Yeah."

"Ah, sorry. You still are suffering through the cafeteria, then."

"Yeah. I've gotten used to it, which I know is terrible."

"I did the same," Suzanne said knowingly. Then she paused. "Do you want to come over to my place for dinner? You look like you could use someone to talk to."

Sandra felt slightly dizzy. Richard, and Emily... 

"I shouldn't. But maybe ... Isn't there an orchestra rehearsal tonight?"

"I'm not in this concert. I'm playing the next one. I'll give you my number when we get our stuff. It's a really short walk from here."

Sandra nodded.

Suzanne smiled again. "All right, let's go."

-------

Sandra was extremely relieved that the room was basically empty when they returned. She was going to ask Suzanne to get her things if the class was still going on.

Mark had remained behind and was playing from his cello part, apparently still transfixed by the music.

He looked up when they entered.

"Hey, Suzanne. I watched your stuff for you."

"Thanks, Mark. That was nice of you."

"Oh, hi," Mark added, seeing Sandra. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. I just got a little head rush there, and had to get some air."

Mark nodded. "Glad you're all right. That was killer," he said, nodding to where the podium had been. The room had been partially rearranged already.

"Thanks."

Suzanne set about putting her fiddle away, and Sandra grabbed her bag from the corner, her head a whirl of thoughts and emotions.

Mark played a line from his part and then looked over at her. "Is that how you hear it?"

Sandra blinked at him. "What?"

"Is that how you wanted it played?" he clarified. "I'm pissed, because I messed it up."

"You played great," Sandra said, unclear at what he was getting at.

"Eh ... I got a little distracted watching you, and forgot to read the music closely," he said. "I messed up that phrase, even though you cued me right. My fault." He slapped the side of his head playfully, but he also seemed genuinely disappointed.

Sandra stared at him. "It was just a run through for class. Don't beat yourself up over it."

Mark laughed and looked at her incredulously. "Just a run through ... Right."

Sandra considered saying that she hadn't heard the mistake, even though she had. Then she bit her tongue. She realized how seriously Mark was taking his contribution to what had transpired earlier. To dismiss his concern would be the opposite of what he needed.

Maybe something special really did happen... 

She still was in a daze. Between imagining the piece as a requiem for Billy, and seeing the response of the musicians to her movements, particularly Suzanne, and having this amazing instrument of dozens of musicians at her command ... the whole thing had been supremely overwhelming. Thoughts of the loss of her recital had only magnified the feelings.

It's no wonder she looked like she was going to faint.

She suddenly sang out the line Mark had been playing. Mark paused from loosening the tension in his bow.

She shrugged sheepishly. "That's how I hear it. But what do I know?"

Mark stared at her, and then tightened his bow again. He put it to the strings, and played, trying to match her phrasing. She sat next to him, singing as he played it a few times, and then listening as he explored it himself.

"Yeah," she nodded, when he played it just right.

Suzanne was watching from her chair, smiling. "You have a beautiful voice," she said.

"You should have heard her a few weeks ago," Mark said.

Sandra stared at the floor as Mark recounted her performance of the opera excerpt, culminating in her conducting while she sang.

"Now I wish I had taken this class, just to watch you," Suzanne said, shaking her head as she grinned. She walked over carrying her violin case, and held a paper out.

"If you feel up for it tonight, or any other time," she said.

Sandra folded the paper up and put in her pocket. She nodded. "Thanks. For playing, and for talking. I'll call you."

Suzanne smiled. "Good. See you, Mark."

"Later on."

Suzanne walked out.

Mark was putting his cello away, and Sandra suddenly felt awkward at the silence.

"You play really well," she said at last.

"Thanks."

"What year is Suzanne?" she asked.

"She's in her fourth year, like me. Why?"

"She's really good, too."

"She better be. She's going to be concertmistress of L.A. next season."

-------

Suzanne turned with a smile as she heard her name.

"Hey, Sandra," she said, waiting for her to catch up.

"I would love to come over for dinner, if that's still okay?"

"Of course. I'm heading home now. Do you want to walk with me?"

"Yeah. Can you wait for a minute while I drop my books off in the dorm?"

"Sure."

She walked beside Sandra as they exited the rear of the conservatory and made the short walk to the dorm.

"I'll be really quick. Just a couple of minutes."

Suzanne sat on the steps. "I'm in no hurry."

In a few minutes, Sandra had returned, having left her bag behind.

"Ready?"

She nodded thoughtfully. "I am."

-------

Emily jumped up at the urgent knocking, but Richard let himself in before she reached the door.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Has Sandra been here?" he asked, some nervousness touching his voice

Emily glanced at the clock. "No. She might still be in conducting class."

"No, ' Richard said. "I was just there. Everyone was leaving."

"I don't know, then."

"I went in, and someone said she fainted in the class. It was weird though; there were like a hundred people there, and it was like a concert had just ended."

"Maybe they had a guest conductor today?"

Richard looked her in the eye. "One of the guys in the class said she was conducting."

"Sandra?"

"Yeah. I don't remember what he said, exactly."

"Maybe we should go see if she's in the dean's office or something. They'd probably take her there if she fainted."

"I've spent the last fifteen minutes looking for her. Except for locked studios and the bathrooms, she's nowhere to be found."

"I can check the bathrooms. Maybe she got sick again."

"Hmm ... Okay, let's go."

Richard and Emily searched the conservatory building again, to no avail. Several people said they had seen her back in the rehearsal room, or walking out of the building.

At last, they gave up and went back to the dorm room.

"At some point, we just need to wait it out," Richard said, as he unlocked the door.

"I know. But it's hard to do anything when I'm so worried. Look... !"

On Emily's bed was a piece of paper. She grabbed it.

"It's from her. She says she's going to be out for a few hours. She needs to figure some things out, and we should wait up for her."

"Well, that's better than nothing," Richard said, letting out a breath.

Emily turned to him, hope in her eyes. "Maybe she'll be okay, after all."

"I hope so. I've never seen anyone act this way before."

"She a highly emotional person. You know that."

"I know, but she still surprises me. Sometimes I wonder what it's like to feel like she does."

"Me too. I can get emotional, but with Sandra it seems to take over her existence sometimes. When it's a good thing, it's incredible. When it's bad..."

"Yeah, I know," Richard said quickly, not needing to hear the counter.

"Let's just hope she finds some happiness these next few hours, wherever she is."

-------

Suzanne donned an apron and offered one to Sandra. She took it, smiling back at Suzanne's smile.

"Pasta all right?"

"Great," Sandra answered.

"So. Tell me what's on your mind, while you chop those tomatoes up."

Sandra sighed. "Where to start..."

"Wherever you want. I can tell you are going through a difficult time."

Sandra sniffed. "That just scratches the surface of it."

She worked on the tomatoes for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

Suzanne's apartment felt immediately relaxing to Sandra when she had walked in. A comfortable couch faced a small upright piano. A few music stands stood nearby, remnants of a rehearsal. Already she found herself able to clear some of the emotional fog which had continuously dominated her thoughts for over a week.

"Well, you pick," Sandra finally began. "I can start with my childhood friend and ex-boyfriend of over two years who died last week in a house fire. Or I can talk about how some woman on the board here at Wexford is threatening to expel me because of the situation with Dr. Dobra, while her asshole son threatens to fail me out of theory. Or I can tell you about how I just let down my two closest friends in the world, and crushed a dream we've had for six months ... That's all since last Sunday, by the way."

Suzanne had turned to her, her face sad and astonished.

"Damn..." she whispered.

"Yeah."

Suzanne looked down at Sandra's cutting board, and pointed to the tomatoes. "I do still need those. They go in next. Can you hurry a little?"

Sandra stared at the cutting board. The remark was absurdly incongruous. Insensitive... ? I must have imagined that she just said that... 

She looked at Suzanne, and saw her sincere smile and deep eyes. There was not an ounce of insensitivity in them.

Then Sandra started laughing. Really laughing. Her body froze in mid cut as she was overtaken by it. She dropped the knife onto the tomatoes, and threw her head back.

Suzanne joined her. They were soon sitting on the floor, backs against the cupboards, and leaning shoulder to shoulder against each other as they shook with mirth.

Sandra wiped at her eyes, since the laughter had brought tears.

Suzanne helped with a hand to Sandra's cheek. "You just got tomato seeds all over your face," she explained, still grinning broadly.

At last, the absurd moment passed.

"Suzanne, that was the craziest thing I've ever heard... !"

"Sorry!" she replied impishly.

"No, it was just what I needed. I haven't really laughed in over a week!"

Suzanne put an arm around her. "I can tell. It wasn't that funny!"

Sandra let out a last laugh and then sighed as they helped each other up. Sandra went back to chopping tomatoes, smiling wistfully.

"Oh ... I wish I could just put all this behind me."

"Go for it."

"I wish. But I can't. Billy, well, I can't do anything about him. He's gone. I'm coming to grips with it, as best as I can. But this woman ... and the recital..."

"Recital?"

Sandra sighed heavily. "I had a recital planned, in April."

"As a freshman? You sure seem to be ahead of the game here at Wexford."

Sandra sniggered, and turned what had to be a red, blotchy, tomato seed and tear stained face to her. "That's a funny thought. Do I really look like I'm ahead of the game?"

Suzanne nodded in spite of Sandra's stricken look. "You have a great voice, if Mark knows anything about singing. You conduct like ... well, really incredibly. You're giving a recital your first year. What else do you do? Did you pass out of all your history and theory requirements too?"

Sandra smiled apologetically. "I am a year ahead in theory."

Suzanne laughed richly and waved her spoon around. "Figures!"

"Well, that probably won't last."

"Why not?"

"Another long story. My life is one long and sad story right now. You really don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear it!"

"I have all night."

Suzanne took the cutting board that Sandra held out, and dumped the tomatoes into the sauce.

"You know Dr. Dobra?" Sandra asked.

"Of course. I had him for six semesters of theory."

"Really? You took the advanced levels?"

"Five and six, yes, last year. It was too crazy by the end, to go further."

"Crazy?"

"We were going to be sight singing stuff that changed clefs and time signatures once or twice every measure. It was ridiculous. I draw the line at outright torture."

"That does sound crazy. Were you trying to do a theory major?"

"No, not me. I just took the classes for ... well, fun, if you can call it that." Suzanne made a face.

"Dobra wants me to be a theory major."

Suzanne looked at her with raised brow. "Why not? It's not like you're doing anything else at Wexford ... Jeez, Sandra! Tell me you don't play the violin."

Sandra winced.

"Oh, I give up!" Suzanne cried.

"I played a little fiddle in a band back at the farm I live at. Believe me, I do not play the violin. At all!"

"All the same ... I'm scared now!"

"Don't be. It's ridiculous. I'm being bombarded from all sides with stuff."

"It's nice to be loved.

"I can't handle any more."

"You better hope Mr. Menlos didn't really see what happened today, then."

"He didn't think it was a big deal, right?" Sandra asked, her voice hopeful.

Suzanne laughed, but didn't answer.

Sandra shook her head. "Well, I'm not ahead of the game at all. The pressure finally got to me a few nights ago."

"What happened?"

"I cancelled my recital."

"What?" Suzanne stopped stirring and turned to her.

Sandra felt her heart jump. For the first time, she saw a glint of worry in Suzanne's eyes. There had been genuine concern all night, but not worry. Until now... 

"I can't go through with it. I can't sing. I've tried, but my head isn't in it. I sat in the practice rooms for hours this weekend, trying to sing. Everything that came out was wrong. I couldn't get past one phrase without realizing my mind was immediately elsewhere."

"Understandable. But, things take time." Suzanne returned to stirring, her mood thoughtful.

"I don't have time. It would have been April ninth."

Suzanne judged the date. "Why didn't you at least wait one more week, and see how things went?"

"I couldn't. I am giving..." Sandra trailed off. "I was giving the recital with two good friends. I couldn't leave them hanging until last minute. They had family coming in. I had to decide right away. I couldn't risk not making it, and having them stuck without half the program."

"So you really cancelled it?"

Sandra sighed. "Yeah. My roommate went down this morning and did it."

Suzanne took her into a hug. "Wow ... I'm really sorry. I can't imagine what it must feel like to have to do that."

"The worst part is that I've completely let them down. We are more than just friends. We are incredibly close. The three of us have been planning this for months. We've worked like crazy to get the material together." Sandra turned to Suzanne, her face a mask of sadness. "And just like that, it's gone ... But I can't do it. I can't risk going up there and not being able to perform."

Suzanne searched her eyes. "Are they understanding?"

"Oh, they're amazing!" Sandra cried out. "They've done nothing but look after me this last week."

"Well, at least that's good." Suzanne returned to stirring again. "You can't ask for more from friends."

Sandra shook her head, and sniffed sadly. "But I've been pushing them away. I just can't deal with anything right now."

"Mm."

Sandra cleared her eyes. "Anyway ... It probably all doesn't matter. I might not even be around in April. This woman on the board, Joanna Warner ... she has it in for me. She threatened to expel me, last Thursday."

Suzanne looked like she didn't believe Sandra. "Why?"

Sandra recounted the tale of her interrogation, her class with Wilcox, and the subsequent meeting with Dr. Jensen and Mrs. Warner. Sandra left out the communication with Dr. Dobra, to be safe.

"I am trying to get people to write some letters of support for him, to help his case."

"Really... ?"

"He's helped me out a lot."

"You're not worried about ... the accusations?"

Sandra looked at her seriously. "I am not worried in the least."

Suzanne nodded slowly. "You must know something you're not telling me."

"I can't say anything. But trust me."

"I do ... You know, I'd be happy to write a letter. I always got along with the man, even if he was a little too uptight for my taste."

"Would you? Everything would help."

"Of course. I'll do it tonight, and put it in your box at school first thing in the morning. It does sound like something weird is going on there with this Warner woman," Suzanne agreed.

"I really think so. But, there's nothing I can really do. Now I'm in the woman's sights, along with Dr. Dobra."

"I doubt she will be able to do anything to you," Suzanne said confidently. "Not for a little altercation like that."

Sandra frowned at her. "It didn't seem little at the time. But why do you say that she can't do anything?"

Suzanne looked at her like it was obvious. "You're a star here. She may try, but at some point, someone is going to stop and say 'Wait a second ... You're trying to do what?'"

"A star?" Sandra asked dubiously, her eyes narrowed.

Suzanne raised a knowing brow at her. "This school is not going to let you go, not in a million years. Not once your teachers get word of any action by this Warner lady."

"But she's on the board."

"The board is not one person, Sandra. That's why it's a board. And they'd be idiots to expel you. What kind of place would expel the next Levine, or Solti?"

"Please tell me you didn't just compare me to them ... That's embarrassing!"

"Sandra, from everything I've seen and heard in the last few hours, I'm pretty sure I'm standing next to one amazing musician."

Sandra shook her head and took a deep breath. "No, she would be standing next to me. You're the one going to L.A."

Suzanne chuckled as she turned down the heat on the sauce and put the large pot of water on to boil. "Who told you that?"

"Mark."

"Ah. The truth is out, then. Yes, I am going to L.A. But, that doesn't change who you are."

"Exactly. I'm about to get kicked out, and I can't even make music anymore."

Suzanne raised an eyebrow. "Can't make music anymore?"

"I told you, I can't sing. It's gone. Everything I felt when I used to sing ... is gone. I can't find it anywhere."

Suzanne shook her head in amazement. "Were you not listening to anything I said earlier? Were you not just in that rehearsal room an hour ago? How can you say you can't make music anymore?"

"I can't."

"You can't? Go tell anyone who was in that room that you can't make music, and they'll laugh so hard that I'll hear it all the way over here."

"But ... but ... that was different. I wasn't singing..." Sandra said, lamely.

"So? Since when does music depend only on the method of delivery?"

Sandra suddenly began to wonder if Suzanne was right.

Did something change? I do feel different after that ... Maybe my voice is back... ?

The thought was almost frightening.

"That whole conducting thing was so surreal," Sandra said quietly. "It doesn't even feel like it happened to me. I was watching someone else ... A person I don't even know."

"Wake up, Sandra," Suzanne said gently, smiling at her. She took her hand. "Just let go, feel what we all felt in that room, and wake up..."

Sandra took some deep breaths as she steadied herself on the counter.

Is she right... ?

Suzanne's violin solo suddenly burst into her head, so achingly alive that she staggered slightly. She turned to Suzanne, who just watched her with her vibrant eyes. Sandra drew on the light in them, as she let the music within her course through her body.

She could only stare, not knowing what words to say. She hardly recognized the feelings she suddenly felt. During the conducting, she had had these feelings inside of her, but felt like she was watching them pass, in a trance, and unable to swim in them.

Now, they were a part of her again. Other songs and melodies were in her head, swirling around each other.

After some time, one particular melody began to dominate.

This... ! This is what's been missing... !

"Do you have some music paper?" Sandra suddenly asked.

"Of course."

Suzanne turned down the burners, and led Sandra out to the living room where she grabbed a piece of staff paper from a stack.

"Can you play for me?"

Suzanne nodded, and went to take out her violin. As she tightened and rosined up her bow, Sandra quickly wrote out two melodies on the paper, occasionally checking something on the piano.

Suzanne watched from over her shoulder, as Sandra finished and handed her the paper.

"Can you play the bottom part?"

"I don't know anything past first position," Suzanne said mischievously, as she took the sheet.

Sandra let out a laugh, suddenly feeling a strong urge to hug Suzanne.

"I'm not a pianist," Sandra said, smiling apologetically, as Suzanne set the music on a stand in front of her.

Suzanne smiled as if she didn't believe her, and put the violin under her chin.

"Pace?"

Sandra sang the first four long notes.

"Okay."

Sandra set her hands at the piano, soundlessly fingering a few figures. Then she turned to Suzanne, and gave a slow pickup beat with her head.

They played...

-------

 ... Suzanne started quietly, unsure what to do with the limited information Sandra had provided on the staff. She quickly reacted to the delicate nature of the melody and Sandra's accompaniment, and matched her playing to the feeling she imagined.

Sandra's arpeggios were sparse, and Suzanne played the melody tenderly, drawing a little more from her instrument with each phrase.

They continued for about a minute. The first notes of the second melody approached on the page.

Then Sandra took a deep breath.

It came so quietly that Suzanne didn't even recognize it as singing, for a few notes. As if coming out from behind a curtain, Sandra's voice delicately shaped the melody.

Before the second phrase had ended, Suzanne knew something good had happened in the kitchen.

This is not the singing of someone who can't feel the music ... God, how beautiful she is... 

Sandra's piano accompaniment trailed off as she lost herself in the singing. Suzanne kept track of Sandra's melody, written on the top line of the pair, as she played her counter melody on the violin. Even without the pulse of the minimal accompaniment, they remained locked together. Suzanne could read the flow of the music from Sandra's body, just as she had done when she was on the podium.

Sandra finished what she had written out for the vocal line, and Suzanne played the few remaining notes she had written for her.

Sandra was staring straight ahead, when Suzanne lowered her violin. She put the instrument on a nearby desk, and approached the piano.

A smile was on Sandra's face, and two tears had streaked down her cheeks.

"It's back," she whispered.

"I know," Suzanne said with a smile.

-------

Sandra rose slowly from the bench, and turned to Suzanne.

"I can't believe it..."

Suzanne pulled her into a tight hug, and Sandra just clung to her as her own body shook. A week of desolate tension began to frantically push and pull inside of her, as it tried to suddenly escape the incoming flood of emotions.

"Just let it out," Suzanne said.

After a tortuous period of time, during which Sandra went through everything from agony to sadness, she finally reached a state in which she could move again.

Despite the awe she felt at having suddenly let the dam of emotions burst within her, there remained one overwhelming feeling which prevented her from smiling at Suzanne.

Loss... 

"I can't believe I ruined it. It would have been fine ... After all, it would have been fine..."

Suzanne looked at her with a smile.

"Do you mean the recital?" she asked, gently.

Sandra nodded. What can I possibly say to Emily and Richard, now?

"You can still do the recital."

Sandra turned to her, not knowing if she heard correctly.

Does she work in the events office? What could she possibly mean?

"But it was cancelled ... Emily cancelled it this morning. I saw that it was cancelled. She said the hall time would be snapped up immediately."

Suzanne nodded in agreement. "Yeah, this time of year, she's probably right. I'm even on the waiting list for rehearsal time in the hall for my quartet."

"So how are we supposed to give the recital?"

"Don't give it in the Wexford hall."

Sandra stared at her. "What?"

"There are three or four churches around here that people give recitals in, sometimes."

Sandra looked at her, her expression suddenly starting to fill with life. "Wexford students?"

"Yes. I gave my junior recital at one. Helden Chapel. There are others, too. They have agreements with Wexford. You can almost certainly get one of them for that day, and probably even at the same time you had planned."

"Are ... Are you being serious?"

"Absolutely."

"But the programs..."

"So what? They can change the information and photocopy some new ones. Big deal! It happens all the time. They might grumble, if you catch them on a busy day, but screw them. It's your recital..."

Sandra looked around wildly. "You mean it's not over?"

Suzanne was grinning. "Not unless you want it to be."

"Oh my god..."

Sandra settled her gaze on Suzanne's happy eyes.

She said I won't get expelled. She said we can still do the recital ... Is this really happening... ?

I need to get back to Richard and Emily and tell them. Tell them everything ... Even this... 

Sandra kissed her. Suzanne kissed back, not hesitating.

Before it grew too heated, Sandra pulled away.

"I'm sorry," she said, suddenly realizing Suzanne had no idea what she had just done. And yet, I know... 

"Don't be sorry, Sandra," Suzanne said.

Suzanne kissed Sandra back. This time it was a little more urgent.

When the kiss ended of its own accord, Sandra turned away.

"I haven't told you everything."

Suzanne put a hand on her shoulder. "What do you mean?"

Sandra stared at the piano, her heart racing. A small smile was on her lips.

"I'm involved with two other people. They're the ones playing the recital with me."

"Okay," Suzanne said.

"I want you to meet them."

Suzanne laughed. "Oh?"

Sandra turned to her. "You are ... incredible. I knew it the moment I locked eyes with you in the class today."

"I did too."

Sandra smiled, her expression a mix of so many emotions that Suzanne just watched her wide-eyed for several long moments.

"You are amazingly beautiful when you really, really smile," Suzanne said.

Sandra let herself be kissed again, and disbelief mixed with relief as her head swirled.

She was alive again.

-------

Sandra stood in front of the door to her dorm room.

I hope it's still my room... 

With a final breath, she tried again to squash the nerves in her stomach, and then knocked.

She heard the voices inside suddenly stop, and then the peephole momentarily darkened.

The door instantly swung open, and Emily was looking at her.

Sandra smiled nervously, trying to communicate with her eyes that she was all right.

Emily held her gaze for a moment and then stepped closer, her face hopeful.

Sandra couldn't wait any longer, and pulled her into an embrace. She couldn't stop the tears as she felt Emily's tense body grip her tightly.

Richard was watching, and Sandra extended an arm to him. He quickly joined the embrace.

"Are you okay?" he asked, after he squeezed them both tight.

"Yes, I am," Sandra murmured.

It was all that was spoken for a very long time, as they remained in the three way hug. People came and went in the hallway, unnoticed by the trio.

Through gentle caresses and soft pressure, they began to heal.

Words would come later.

-------

When the door was finally closed, and Sandra looked at her two once-lost lovers, she smiled happily despite her wet face.

Richard and Emily smiled back at her, their faces also shiny.

"You are back," Richard said. "I can see it in your eyes."

Sandra nodded, and then spoke with hope in her voice. "I'm sorry about what I've done. I know I've messed up, but there's a way we can still save it. If you want to."

"What do you mean?"

"The recital. I know you cancelled it, Em, but there's a way we can still do it."

Sandra watched as Richard and Emily turned to each other and shared a look.

They ... smiled... !

The excitement in her, which had been simmering since Suzanne's suggestion, now began to pour out from where she had held it.

They still want to do it!

"You want to do the recital?" Emily asked her, her expression reflecting the hope Sandra felt.

"Yes!" Sandra cried. "I do! I made a terrible mistake, but it was the only thing I thought I could do. But now ... I've started to figure things out. I was crazy. I wasn't thinking. But we can still do it. There are some churches in the area that we can get into, to play the recital. We can still have it on the same day, probably."

Emily and Richard were smiling.

They like the idea ... They still want to do it!

"Sandra," Emily said, her voice emotional. "I knew it. I knew you'd come back around!"

"So we'll still do it then?"

"Yes. Yes!"

Richard was grinning broadly, his eyes emotional.

Sandra swallowed hard, her throat tight. "Oh, thank you ... I was so worried you'd say no."

"We never gave up on you, Sandra."

Sandra paced around the room, her mind suddenly filled with things needing to be done to get the recital off the ground again. "I'll go to the events office first thing tomorrow and ask about these churches."

"Don't bother," Emily said.

Sandra turned to her, worry creeping back into her thoughts. But she's smiling?

"Why?"

Emily grinned. "I never cancelled it."

For a moment, Sandra's world reeled. She stared at Emily, stunned. "But ... I saw it..."

She ran to her bag, dumping out the contents onto the desk. She was glad to see a crumpled piece of paper. I'm not going crazy...  She pulled it open. She held it out to them, her arm shaking.

Emily was smiling apologetically. "That's my handwriting."

"But ... Wh-Why?" Sandra stammered, incredulous.

"I was hoping that if you saw it, you'd feel differently. You know, the grim finality, and all that..."

Sandra shook her head in disbelief. "You mean it's not cancelled?"

"No," Richard confirmed. "We knew you would change your mind. You just needed time, like Emily said. So we gave you some time. If by next weekend, you were still not going to do it, then we were going to think about really cancelling it ... But..."

"But we didn't think that would happen," Emily added, excitedly.

Sandra braced herself on the desk, and then sat down in her desk chair.

The moment was incredibly overwhelming.

They believed in me. They waited. They knew... 

She wondered then how she still had tears, after crying for what seemed like eight straight days.

Emily and Richard moved to kneel before her, and were watching her, still smiling.

"Can we do it?" Sandra asked. "We're two weeks away. I haven't sung anything on the recital since before we went to New York."

New York ... That seems like a year ago... 

"Sandra, we've practiced all year for this. We are ready. We have two weeks to polish things up, and then go in there and kick some butt," Richard said.

Sandra nodded, still feeling dizzy. She stood up at last, pulling them up and hugging them tightly.

"I can't believe this. Just this morning I thought I had ruined everything..."

"We wouldn't let you do that," Emily said gently.

After some time, Sandra pulled away.

"I have something to admit."

Richard and Emily waited expectantly.

"I hope you don't get angry ... I met someone tonight."

Emily looked at Richard.

"Who is he?" she asked.

"She. I met her in conducting class."

"Speaking of which," Richard said, "what happened in class today?"

Sandra narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You fainted?"

Sandra looked at him anxiously, as she took a step backwards. "Please tell me you made that up!"

"No. Someone at the school told me."

"Oh god ... I didn't think it would spread so fast that it beat me back to my room!" she wailed.

Emily laughed. "Welcome to Wexford."

Sandra closed her eyes. "I conducted Verklaerte Nacht in class today, and it turned into a scene. A mess, really. I was so out of it, that I don't even remember what really happened."

"It looked like the whole school was there. Was that for your turn?"

Sandra nodded shyly. "You weren't there, were you?"

"No," Richard said. "I came running when I heard a huge crowd of people shaking the building. You had already left."

Sandra put her hands to her face. "It was a mess. Apparently I fell off the podium..."

Emily started to snigger, and then stopped. "Wait, are we allowed to laugh?"

"It's not funny!" Sandra wailed.

"Even a little?" Emily said, grinning.

Sandra at last smiled. "Oh, what a mess..."

"So you conducted the whole piece?"

"Just the last twenty minutes, or so."

"And people just started wandering in?"

"Yeah. I don't know why, or how."

"And did you do well?" Emily asked.

"That's what everyone keeps saying."

Emily grinned. "Well, I'm sure I'll hear all about it in orchestra rehearsal tomorrow night!"

Sandra just let out another wail.

"From what I saw, it was a huge success," Richard said. "People were walking out of there like they had watched an amazing concert."

"Okay, enough!" Sandra cried out, waving her hands in the air. "I was trying to tell you something important."

"Oh, right. Sorry," Richard said. "You were saying you met someone? A woman?"

"She was playing in the orchestra for class. I just connected with her so much. I mean, when I was conducting, we just kept making the music together, and driving each other on. It was just ... amazing."

"What was she playing that was so prominent?" Emily asked.

"She was concertmistress. There's a lot of solo violin in that piece."

"What's her name?"

"Suzanne."

Emily thought for a second. "Wait, not Suzanne Wright?"

"I don't know her last name."

"Is she tallish, brunette ... Pretty, slightly older looking?"

"That kind of sounds like her," Sandra agreed.

Emily laughed. "No wonder Sandra wants to ditch us," she said to Richard.

"I don't want to ditch you!" Sandra wailed, moving suddenly to the verge of tears. "Please don't say that!"

Emily took her hand and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry. I'm not being very sensitive. I'm just in too good a mood to do that!"

"Who is she?" Richard asked Emily.

"She's like possibly the best violinist at Wexford right now."

Richard nodded. "Nice," he said to Sandra.

"I think she's in our pool of soul mates," Sandra said. "I know she is."

Emily and Richard looked at her with interest.

"Really?"

"Yes. I instantly felt a connection with her. It was like I was inside of her mind when she was playing."

"Cool," Richard said.

"Is that where you were after class?" Emily asked.

"Yes. I wanted her to come back to the dorm with me now, so you could meet her, but she thought I should talk with you alone first. She was right."

"What happened?" Richard asked.

Sandra recounted how Suzanne had found her after she had rushed out of the class, and how she had invited her over for dinner.

"That's when I left you the note."

"So we just missed you."

"I guess. I wanted to come find you, but for some reason, this was the right thing to do."

Richard and Emily both nodded. "Definitely..."

"We cooked dinner, and I spilled my guts about what was happening. Then suddenly, she made me realize that I still could feel the music. I had done it in the conducting room. Then that was it. Suddenly, it was back. I even sang a little at her place, just to see."

Richard and Emily smiled at her words.

"She suggested the churches to do our recitals, too. But we don't need that, now..."

"What's she like?" Richard asked.

"Down to earth, fun ... You'll be meeting her soon."

"Cool. Did you kiss her?" Emily asked, grinning.

Sandra felt herself heat up, and then she nodded sheepishly.

Richard laughed. "Allison, Part Two."

"Are you mad?" Sandra asked.

Emily and Richard looked at each other.

"We're so out of here!" Emily said, as the two of them made for the door.

"Hey! Come on!" Sandra cried.

They laughed and turned back to her. Sandra move out from behind the desk.

"I trust you, Sandra," Richard said. "I just want your love. And you've proven it so many times, now. Feel it out, with Suzanne. Maybe we can all become friends."

"What he said," Emily added, pointing a thumb at Richard.

Sandra was visibly relieved.

"I mean, I feel something strong for Viktoriya, and for Arlene ... even William ... They're all different, but in a way all the same. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. It's mostly custom that keeps us from tapping into this way of living."

"Did you do more?" Emily asked, taking on the expectant look she usually reserved for Richard's stories.

"No. We kissed a few times. It doesn't mean things will go further."

Richard nodded. "It might, but it doesn't have to if you don't want. That's how the connections are different. But when it comes down to it, it's the same. We connect somewhere deeply that we don't with most other people, whether through music, or art, or sex..."

"You already had musical sex with her, it sounds like," Emily said.

Sandra considered for a moment. "I guess you're right."

"That's a neat image, Em," Richard said. "I've felt that way a few times during the Serenade, right before we left for New York."

Emily swatted him. "So that's why you're always messing up! Your mind is somewhere else!"

Richard laughed richly.

Sandra looked at them. They had seemed so far apart earlier that day. Now, they were just six feet away, and completely back in her heart.

She rushed to them, embracing them so tightly Emily let out a warning grunt.

"I love you both so much. I thought I loved you before ... But I had no idea what love was, until I walked in here tonight."

-------

The next morning, after Music History class, Sandra stepped into Dr. Jensen's office. She was glad to see he was alone.

"Sandra. Please ... sit this time."

Sandra did, after she slid six envelopes over the table to him.

"These are?"

"Statements from myself and five other students in support of Dr. Dobra as a teacher."

He considered them, and then nodded. "I will put them into evidence."

Sandra waited expectantly, although she wasn't sure what she was waiting for.

"Is there something else?" he asked at last.

"Well, the other day, that woman threatened me. I keep waiting for the worst, but ... I'm not sure what to make of it."

Dr. Jensen nodded. "Yes, it was quite inappropriate."

Sandra felt a trickle of relief at his words.

"What's going to happen?" she asked, tentatively.

Dr. Jensen looked at her enigmatically "With?"

"Her? Dr. Dobra... ? Me?"

"It appears we have two or three separate issues to deal with," he said cryptically.

"I can't stay in Wil ... Dr. Wilcox's class."

Dr. Jensen smiled slightly. "You won't."

"What class will I be moved to?"

"You will stay in your current class. Dr. Wilcox is no longer teaching that section."

Sandra narrowed her eyes. "Really?"

"Yes. Do not tell me he was there yesterday?"

"I don't know. I ... had to miss class for ... something."

Dr. Jensen nodded knowingly. He straightened his face.

"Now, if there is nothing else, I suggest you put this whole episode behind you, and return to focusing on your studies. You've provided more than enough information at this point ... I understand you had a recent loss of a loved one?"

Sandra nodded, wondering how he knew.

"I am very sorry. My condolences."

Dr. Jensen stood. Sandra did as well.

"I'm sorry you had to endure that episode in my office last week. But do not worry; Mrs. Warner's threats are her own, and she is in a small minority. Growing smaller with each day, apparently. So, put this all behind you."

He smiled sincerely.

"But it's not over," she said. "What about Dr. Dobra?"

Dr. Jensen's smile evaporated. "Sandra, the investigation is continuing. As I said last week, I cannot share information with anyone. Things have gotten more complicated."

"For him?"

Dr. Jensen pretended to not have heard, and opened the door to his office. "Thank you for the letters."

Sandra nodded in defeat, and then looked at him. "There will be more."

Dr. Jensen smiled politely. "Have them delivered directly to me."

Sandra thanked him, and then watched the door close.

She turned, and found Sue the secretary smiling at her. She was looking exaggeratedly at her desk.

Sandra worried for a moment that she had found out about the phone directory theft, but then she saw a small white envelope on the desk with an 'S' on it.

Sandra grabbed it instinctively and put it in her bag.

Sue smiled again, as if nothing had happened.

Sandra forced herself to smile back, and then left, unsure what to make of the episode. She went directly to the restroom and opened the envelope, scared at what she would find. The relief she had felt in the President's office had now vanished.

Expulsion letter? My grade from Wilcox? What... ?

A tape?

It was a microcassette.

Last Thursday's statement, and the ensuing meltdown with Joanna Warner. Somehow she got it back from that witch... 

A small paper was folded up in the case.

"Live your life with passion, and you will inspire others to be brave... "

She read the words over several times, and then replaced the paper in the case.

A memento of me yelling at a board member? Weird... 

Sandra stuffed the tape into her bag, and then she took a deep breath.

Put this behind you ... That's what Dr. Jensen said.

Her mood suddenly grew into elation, as she realized she was going to go rehearse. I'm going to go sing. With Richard and Emily... 

With a huge smile, she went off to find the studio they would be working in.

-------

Sandra stood there for a long time as she looked at the programs on the bulletin board with a smile. Richard and Emily were beside her.

The modified program was in its place amidst the other upcoming recitals.

Order had been restored.

"We should really get back to rehearsing," Emily said, fanning the stack of programs she held.

Sandra nodded. "Just one more sigh..."

They laughed, and then walked down the hallway.

A somewhat familiar looking guy was walking down the hall towards them, and Sandra thought he was staring at her as he approached.

"Sandra?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

She still couldn't place him.

"I'm Jeff. I was playing in the conducting class the other day?"

"Oh, right! You were sitting right behind Suzanne."

"Yeah," he said, smiling. "I, uh, wanted to ask you something. I'm giving my second master's recital next semester, and I know it's kind of outrageous, but I'm trying to get a little orchestra together so I can play the Beethoven Violin Concerto, without using a piano for accompaniment. So I'm calling in favors, and I think I'm actually going to have enough people."

Sandra looked at him, unsure if he had her confused with someone else.

"I'm a singer, though..." she said, raising a brow. "I don't think there's a soprano part in that piece."

He laughed. "I know that. I have the musicians. I want you to conduct."

Sandra stared at him openmouthed. Richard and Emily grinned as she tried to speak.

"Conduct?" she finally managed.

"Well, yeah."

"Me?"

Jeff smiled expectantly.

"She's a little hard of hearing," Richard said, to which they all laughed.

Sandra just stammered some incomprehensible syllables.

"Are you sure you mean me?"

Jeff nodded.

"Um ... Well, I have no idea what the piece sounds like, and I have no idea how to conduct, and I probably will have a thousand things going on ... but ... Sure."

Jeff smiled broadly. "Really? Sweet!"

"Well, let me listen to the concerto, before I fully agree."

"If you can conduct the Schoenberg like that, then this will be a walk in the park," Jeff said.

"Okay, but ... Wow."

Jeff leaned in to her. "Can you promise me one thing?"

"What?"

"If my friend Scott asks you to conduct for his recital, can you say no?"

"You mean other people want me to conduct?" Sandra cried, overwhelmed.

"He's trying to copy my idea. When he finds out who I asked, he's going to try to do the same thing. His recital is two weeks before mine, and he's trying to one-up me."

Sandra shook her head. "Okay ... I'll say no."

Jeff grinned. "Cool. Here's my number."

He scratched out the numbers on a paper and handed it to her.

"I'll want to get together and listen to the piece, and show you the tempi I have in mind. We'll need to get people together for some rehearsals, too."

"Okay, but ... can we wait until after April ninth?" Sandra said apologetically.

Jeff laughed. "Well, yeah! I was thinking more like the beginning of next semester. What's on the ninth?"

Emily had a program in his hands before the words were out of his mouth. Jeff looked it over.

"Aw, crap!" he exclaimed.

"What?" Sandra asked.

"I thought I'd just scored your debut concert. But you're giving a recital as a freshman?"

"Yeah."

"Well, at least I get your conducting debut."

Sandra raised her brow at him. "Don't get too excited yet. We'll see what you think after the first rehearsal."

Jeff laughed. "All right, I have to run. Jeff, by the way," he said, extending a hand to Richard and Emily.

They greeted, and then Jeff waved the program in front of him.

"I'll definitely come out for this, and bring some friends."

Sandra smiled. "Thanks! And thanks for asking me to conduct. I'll try and do a good job for you."

"You will," Jeff said confidently. "Bye, y'all."

He continued down the hallway.

"A few more audience members in my column," Emily said.

"He's coming because of Sandra," Richard said, frowning at her.

"I gave him the program," Emily retorted.

"That was surreal," Sandra said, her voice distant. "Did that just happen? Did I just agree to conduct an orchestra next semester?"

"I'm afraid you did."

"You're like, famous!" Richard said to Sandra, grinning. "Okay, let's go find a practice room, before people start asking for autographs..."

-------

Wilcox was gone, as Dr. Jensen had promised. Sandra never saw him again. He had swept in for a week, left a dubious legacy, and then disappeared just as quickly and enigmatically.

No letter of expulsion ever came. Sandra never saw Joanna Warner again either, despite her name remaining on the list of trustees by the main entrance to the conservatory.

Sandra found a few more Dobra supporters to write letters, and she delivered them to a tight-lipped Dr. Jensen. No word on the status of the investigation was offered, and Sandra knew it was useless to ask. She dared not call Dr. Dobra again, either.

The lingering sadness for Billy's passing and the ambiguity of the situation with Dr. Dobra wasn't enough to dampen Sandra's mood, however. She returned to her music like it had been absent for a year. She had almost lost it; now found, she was holding it tightly and living every moment.

Richard, Emily and Sandra worked to perfect what they could. The recital consumed them again, even more than it had during the difficult February learning phase. Now, it took up residence inside of them, starting to act alive, and growing. The music was breathing, sensing that it was soon to be let out.

At last, the recital finally arrived. The trio was as prepared as they could be.

How the long months of work, love, and suffering would be delivered, and received, all came down to just one hour and forty-four minutes on the evening of Tuesday, April ninth.



-------

Chapter 33: 104' 33"


THE WEXFORD CONSERVATORY OF MUSIC

JOINT NON-DEGREE RECITAL

Tuesday, April 9, 1996

7:00 pm, Wexford Hall

Sandra d'Arcy, soprano

Emily Rathbourne, horn

Riccardo Mazzini, piano

PROGRAM

Drei Morike Lieder (1888) ... Hugo Wolf (1860 — 1903)

I. Auf ein altes Bild

Allison had gotten there early, wanting to take in the atmosphere of the conservatory. She had called to let Emily, Sandra, and Richard know that she had arrived safely, but she rejected the offer of lunch, not wanting to distract them before their recital. We'll have fun the rest of the week,  Allison thought. Right now they should focus on themselves.

She wandered around on the lowest floor, passing by the practice rooms which were all full of students. Recitals and concerts must be happening nonstop at this time of year. She paused beside some of the doors when the music caught her attention. Amazing. The density of musicianship here is astounding... 

This could have been me. Maybe... 

She found herself in a seat ten minutes before seven. Already, there were a number of people in the concert hall. What a beautiful place... ! It must be amazing to get up there and play,  she thought, looking at the dimly lit piano. It stood there on stage, waiting expectantly to be touched.

She imagined herself standing in front of the curve of the instrument, holding her flute as she looked out at a full house. What a thrill... !

She glanced around at the growing crowd, taking in the details. Many carried instruments. They've made some friends this year... 



That must be Richard's parents, speaking Italian ... A young man with a cowboy shirt on ... Must be from Sandra's family, here to see her.

Who is this striking woman speaking Russian to the American man? Richard's teacher is Russian, I think, but this woman is way too young to be a piano teacher. My age, I'd say ... She's intense...

And the older man with the young woman? Are they together? They talk like they are, but they must be twenty years apart in age...

Who is the man with the red-haired woman? A few musicians have gone up and shook his hand. Probably someone important here at the conservatory.



She turned. Here come more people. They look like random concert goers. Lots of older couples, music aficionados ... And why not? Free concerts almost every night ... It's a gift.

What an interesting crowd ... Then again, I came all the way from Australia for this... 

She turned back to the stage as the lights dimmed in the hall, and people quieted and took their seats. The performance lights were raised, and then the hall settled into silence over the next few seconds as the air filled with expectancy.

Allison smiled a big smile as Sandra appeared from the left. She almost didn't see Richard behind her, so taken was she with Sandra's appearance and carriage. What a beautiful dress... 

The audience applauded as the two of them took their places on stage.

She's a natural, up there. Captivating... 

As the applause ended, Richard shared a smile with Sandra, and then he began. Allison listened to the first melancholy phrase of his playing, and it instantly set something new vibrating inside her. It's really begun... 

Sandra entered soon after, with a delicate melody. I thought I remembered how she sang, but ... This is beautiful... 

The mood she felt surprised Allison. She had been living on excited enthusiasm for the past week, waiting to fly across the globe and sit in this chair with almost pounding heart. Now, she was suddenly transported somewhere completely unexpected, as the haunting and subdued song that Sandra and Richard performed made her insides reach towards them in longing.

How quickly music can make us love ... And miss ... And cry... 

Allison let herself be carried away by the sound of Sandra's voice and Richard's piano chords.

It's a world of art, and beauty, really. Nothing compares to this. Nothing.

When the song approached the end, Allison sat still, wishing for it to continue. She didn't want to let go of the place she now occupied. The song had been a little jewel, and she still wanted to hold it in her hand and feel its soft light on her.

No one coughed or even shifted as Richard damped the last chord in the piano and turned the page in his music.

Then Sandra smiled slightly, catching sight of Allison in the audience.

Allison realized there were more jewels to come. With a last pang of longing, she let the feelings go and looked forward to the next selection.

Sandra nodded at Richard, and he began the accompaniment for the second song.

She turned back to the audience to sing, and the first note caught in her throat.

Richard looked up at her, for a second pausing.

She had missed the entrance. He repeated the introductory figure, unsure of what else to do.

Allison watched nervously as Sandra stared out over the audience towards the back of the hall. For a moment, she seemed frozen still.

Then her face took on a serene quality, and she began to sing.

Allison relaxed, glad Sandra had recovered, and she let herself be drawn in by the music again.

II. Verborgenheit

Eugene sat perfectly still in his seat. He kept his face unmoving as he listened.

Here before him were two of his students performing. It's been over a year since I've attended a student recital,  he realized with surprise.

He used to attend more of them, before he had become head of the theory department and paperwork had invaded his life. Usually when he was in the audience, he found himself working out the theory of the music, and critiquing the performance.

That part hasn't changed... 

Did they analyze the piece? He found himself doing so at certain moments, sighing in satisfaction at the brilliant use of harmony by Herr Wolf.

"Seine Wonne, seine Pein."

A classic Romantic cadence... 

They play well together,  Eugene thought. There's a certain calmness to their playing that I don't remember hearing from many freshman students. Most are too nervous to play with anything approaching calmness. Most don't even do recitals, though.

He could tell Sandra had command of the performance. I can even follow her from the back row. He wasn't sure how much of the accompaniment was Richard's doing, and how much was just Sandra guiding him inevitably through it.

Richard seems to have a good touch on the piano, but he's obviously a concert pianist,  he thought, when they reached the animated section of the song.

He overplayed there somewhat. Too much, for how Sandra chose to sing it. An understandable mistake, since he probably hasn't done much accompaniment. And they are first year students, after all... 

But what students...  He looked at each of them.



Sandra's statement on my behalf could be no one else's. She has so many talents...

And one letter was surely Richard's, just from the references to weekly meetings. No one else coming to me outside of class would have written anything.

For someone who seemed ready to start fights with me last semester, Richard has certainly changed his mind about theory.

And the other ten letters were likely spawned by their efforts...

It probably made the difference, in the end ... Without them, I might not have returned...

What students ... This is one recital I wouldn't have missed for anything.



The piece ended quietly by repeating the classic Romantic cadence, and Dr. Dobra sighed deeply. It was his only outward show of emotion, but since he was in the last row, no one saw it.

III. Das verlassene Maegdlein

If Billy had been sitting in the audience, he would have been watching Sandra with wet eyes.

He had heard Sandra sing for most of his life. He knew how much it was a part of her. He could no more imagine her not singing than he could imagine his father not being out in the fields of their farm in the morning.

He would have been amazed, however, at seeing her on the stage at Wexford. In his mind, during lonely nights at his college, he would wonder what she was doing at school. He would always picture her practicing like she did at her house. Perhaps playing with a faceless man named Richard, or alone ... But it was nothing more than what he had seen countless times when they were together. The background had changed, but she was always ready to go out on the town with him after she was finished.

Now, she was elegantly and stunningly dressed, singing with her heart under the bright lights. This was real. She would be gaining more and more followers, as she collected people's hearts with her moving performances. No longer was she only Billy's to admire from afar. The brook they used to play in as children had swept her far away to the ocean, now.

Even with his untrained ear, Billy would have felt the musicality in what she did. It consumed anyone who was really listening and watching.

It was part of her. He could no more imagine her not playing music than he could imagine ... himself without her ... She was a part of him.

But Billy was not in the audience. Instead, he listened from somewhere immeasurably distant, yet also within her. With no time or air there, notes and sounds had no meaning in that place. But the emotions with which Sandra sang ... They vibrated and shook his entire existence.

He supported her, and through her memories he changed her. He imparted her with strength, grace and radiance. He at last succeeded in having her let go of him, even though he would never let go of her.

He listened.

Morgen! Opus 27, No. 4 ... Richard Strauss (1864 — 1949)

With Suzanne Wright, violin

As Suzanne walked out onto the stage, she smiled at Sandra.

She looks ... radiant,  Suzanne thought.

As she did every time she looked at Sandra's eyes, Suzanne felt a spark inside of her. It was doubly pleasing tonight, since they were about to perform together.

After a last lingering look, she turned to Richard. She had met this interesting trio just two weeks ago, and yet it felt like she had known them forever. What would have happened had I met them earlier?

With a slight movement, she cued Richard for the start of the piece, and she projected the richly languorous notes of the opening melody out into the hall. Richard supported her with gentle chords and harp-like arpeggios.

She looked at Sandra several times during the introduction. Sandra kept her eyes on hers, and Suzanne again felt the musical connection she always did.

Suzanne used a heavy vibrato in her left hand, trying to draw the sweetest sound out of her violin. It wasn't enough for her, as she still found herself lamenting the limitations of her instrument. After meeting and playing music with Sandra, she knew she could do so much more.

Then Sandra entered with the first line of the song. Suzanne let out a shuddering breath as she intertwined her violin with Sandra's voice. Behind them, Richard continued his delicate accompaniment, increasing its intensity only slightly.

She followed Sandra closely through their duet, reveling in the sound of the notes they struck in harmony. Their lines moved separately, but like two perfect ballet dancers, completely together. Suzanne could feel her touch as they lifted each other through each graceful phrase.

All too soon their delicate and loving conversation was over. Suzanne was left alone for a moment, and she descended quietly and slowly through the end of her violin melody.

Richard held the uncertain chords as Sandra sang the last part of the text alone.

Suzanne thought back to that night in her apartment two weeks ago when Sandra had escaped out of her depression by singing this song with her. Even though the moment had been magical, that night Suzanne hadn't known what the German text said.

Sandra's voice turned fragile. She once again looked at Suzanne's eyes and finished the vocal melody with a hopeful cadence.

Now Suzanne knew the words, and knew Sandra, and it made her very soul resonate...

Suzanne gave everything she had to her last six notes. She hoped Richard would wait for her, since she held the second of each ascending pair of notes for what seemed like a minute each.

She yearned for Sandra's voice to return to sing with her, but like a sunrise, the unique moment of beauty had passed, unattainable ever again except in memory.

The final chord faded into silence before the audience broke out into enthusiastic applause.

"Brava!" came a man's deep voice.

Suzanne and Sandra moved closer and shared a smile. When Richard was beside them, they bowed twice. Suzanne stepped back, and she and Richard let Sandra take a bow on her own. After smiling at the appreciative audience for a few more moments, the three of them walked off the stage.

Once out of sight, Suzanne immediately turned and embraced Sandra, kissing her.

"Beautiful!" she said softly.

"Oh, you too!"

Suzanne felt Richard wrap his arms around them both.

"That was incredible," he said, breathing deeply. "You two must share the same brain, or something."

They laughed, but didn't dispute the idea.

Suzanne stepped back as Emily also gave them both hugs.

"That was unforgettable," Emily whispered, as the hall had quieted. "I was crying."

Sandra smiled emotionally and hugged her again. "Thanks. For everything. I love you so much, Em."

Suzanne watched as they shared a chaste but emotional kiss.

Emily sighed, and then shook loose her arms. "My turn, I guess." The nervousness was apparent in her voice.

"Go out there and just play, Emily," Suzanne said, giving her another hug. "Have fun. You won't have this day again."

"I know. I hope I can live up to that last song."

"You will, Emily. I know you will," she whispered.

Richard came up and put his hands on Emily's shoulders from behind.

"Are you ready?" he murmured.

"Almost. Just give me a second to calm down."

Sandra wrapped her arms around Richard's middle. "You were right there for me, Richard. Thanks."

He kissed the top of her head, and then her lips gently. Then he gave a little smile and went to wait with Emily. They stood near each other as they watched the stage manager walk back towards them. The stage was set.

"Good luck, both of you," Suzanne whispered. She gave them each a confident pat on the arm, and then she and Sandra moved deeper into the darkness of the side stage, finding some chairs.

Sandra took her hand and squeezed it gently. "Thanks, Suzanne, for playing."

"Any time. I love playing with you. I just wish I'd met you sooner."

"We'll play again, someday," Sandra said, searching her eyes.

"I hope so."

They quieted as applause started. Emily and Richard were walking out onto the stage.

Suzanne saw Sandra smiling as she silently sent support and love out to her two lovers.

-------

Sonata for Horn in F and Piano (1939) ... Paul Hindemith (1895 — 1963)

I. Massig bewegt

Joel knew he would enjoy the Hindemith, as Emily and Richard confidently started the first movement. He knew from years of working with Emily in orchestras that she would give a good rendition of the cerebral piece. Besides, as a horn player, how could he not enjoy it... ?

She's always been into the details of the music, and this piece needs that.

It's such a contrast from what Sandra sang. Almost jarring ... And yet, so Emily.

He wondered how the audience was liking the piece. He looked around; everyone was focused on the stage.

Well, that's good. She's keeping them in it.

Joel looked back at Emily, watching her facial expressions as she shaped the phrases.

She's still a cutie ... It was almost three years ago that we got together. She was so young, then ... So was I, even though I was through my first year at Wexford.

Those were crazy summers... 

She's changed, especially this year. She's still irreverent, but she's also found something new. There's a ... delicateness in there, that I never saw before. Maybe it's due to this Richard guy. Or her roommate... 

He smiled, reminding himself that the rumors about her trio were probably true. Most things you hear around here are,  he thought, grinning.

They stayed together, even after what happened between us at my place. I wonder if Richard and Sandra know what really happened... 

Joel cringed slightly at the memory. Even though the police had never bothered him again, it was still a rough situation to deal with.

And I then had to go be a dick to Emily about it. Richard's been cool ever since we talked, though. So has Emily. Much better than the cold shoulder I got at the end of last semester... 

The opening theme returned, played faster now. Joel leaned in, waiting expectantly for the powerful cadence. Emily delivered, sounding the final notes with a clear tone that filled the hall.

Nice job, Emily.

II. Ruhig bewegt

Kyle realized he was leaning forward in his chair.

This is strange music,  he conceded, as Richard started playing the second part of the piece. Nothing like what I listen to.

But it's still cool to see Emily play ... She's so into it. I can't imagine concentrating that hard for so long.

He sat back some, calmed by the slower pace of this movement. At times Richard's playing reminded him of running water.

Emily's horn, like the breeze... 

As the movement progressed and became more evocative, Kyle threw his thoughts back to the day Billy had died. He glanced at the empty seat next to him.

He would have been sitting here with me.

Kyle's throat momentarily grew tight, as grief suddenly flooded through him. But he allowed it to pass on without letting it consume him.

In those dark hours, it had been surprisingly comforting to have Emily there.

I hardly know her, really. But, it was like she knew me. She knew what I was feeling. I wonder who she lost, when she was younger.

It's strange how she ended up being there, that day. It had to be more than just a coincidence... 

No, that's all it was. She's got her man, there, on stage with her.

Emily and Richard pressed into a more dramatic section, exchanging a glance for a cue. Richard smiled as they played together.

You're an idiot, Kyle, thinking you could come tonight and impress her with your stupid surprise.

Kyle thought the movement was ending, but he couldn't really tell with this music. Despite the general uneasiness he felt at the strange surroundings, he also felt hope and light when he looked at Emily.

The movement did end.

She's beautiful... 

III. Lebhaft

Clark watched his daughter as she began the final movement of the Sonata. Her friend is a formidable pianist,  he thought. It will be interesting to hear him play the Etudes. We'll have to move to the other side of the hall at the intermission, to watch his hands.

As the movement reached the pensive second section, Clark listened attentively. When he used to play the Sonata, long ago, he always enjoyed this section the most. There was a beauty to the horn lines that supported all that had come before, but also moved the piece in a new direction.

She really has grown into a strong musician...  Clark felt a pang of remorse, wondering why he was noticing only now.

Years lost ... and now she's grown. I had very little part in shaping her musically. Even though he felt a resonance in her playing, knowing they had similar working styles, he also heard an approach to the music which was different than his. She plays smoother than I did, despite using the same instrument.

Perhaps tonight I can start to mend the rift between us.

He glanced at Audrey, sitting by his side and smiling as she watched Emily. She too watched her grow up. I hope she's right about tonight.

Even though I should have reached out to Emily years ago, perhaps it is not too late. What would it be like to talk of music with her now? When I last was close with Emily, the only music we could talk about were children's songs.

Look at her ... A woman, now. Interpreting some difficult music, and very well. That was wonderful phrasing... 

Clark felt some long lost feelings welling up, as he began to realize that he could hear some of Emily's mother's playing in the performance. She also had smooth phrasing. Elizabeth played for her constantly. Emily still remembers her ... Maybe she still remembers what I told her back then... 

Even though the Hindemith was not an overtly emotional piece, he still found himself feeling so.

He squeezed Audrey's hand as the piece came to a strong conclusion, and then was the first to applaud.

Emily stood to bow, after a moment, and looked at him. She even smiled a little.

Please, Emily, come back ... I'm sorry, and I do love you... 

-------

INTERMISSION

Emily and Richard walked off the stage, and were greeted by Sandra and Suzanne.

"Awesome, Emily! That was such a cool piece!" Suzanne said.

They all exchanged hugs, and then Richard let out a sigh of relief.

"Whew. It went really well, I thought," he said to Emily.

"It was great," Emily agreed. "We played most of it the best we ever have."

"I could see your dad the whole time, since he was right past you in my line of sight."

Emily laughed. "Sorry. I could have moved forward a little."

"No," Richard said. "He smiled a bunch of times, so I think he liked it."

Emily shrugged. "I was too nervous to look at him until it was over."

"Are you glad he came?" Sandra asked.

Emily nodded, smiling a little. "I am. It made me more nervous than I thought, though."

"You did great," Sandra said.

"Thanks."

"Well, I'm going to go sing in the rehearsal room for a bit," Sandra said. "I will come back to watch you, Richard. Don't worry!"

Richard nodded.

"I'm going to do the same," Emily said. "I need to start the Serenade alone, so I'll try to keep warm for the next ten minutes. We'll be back."

The girls each kissed him once, and then slipped off.

Richard turned to Suzanne.

"Do you need some time alone?" she asked.

"Nah. If I'm not ready now..."

She laughed. "True."

They sat in the nearby chairs.

"You play really well with them. I can't wait to hear your Serenade," Suzanne said.

"I hope we can do it. It's a hard piece to play, partly because the arrangement is awkward at times."

"It has to be hard to imitate a string orchestra, with a piano."

"Oh, it is. Nelson has really helped a lot. I still need to think of a lot of things, though."

"Well, if the first half is any indication, you have a knack for accompanying."

Richard laughed. "Well, I don't know about that. But it has been fun working with them."

"The three of you are lucky, you know."

Richard nodded.

"And very intriguing," she added.

Richard turned to her, and laughed quietly. "Intriguing..."

"You'd have to be, to relate like you do. Part of me wishes I'd met you all earlier this year."

Richard considered the idea. "But you met Sandra when you did, and it turned her around."

Suzanne nodded gravely. "She is amazing."

"No doubt."

Suzanne was quiet for a moment before speaking. "I..."

"What?"

"She's never said anything, and neither have you when we got together to rehearse..."

"About?"

Suzanne held out her hands, and chuckled. "Sorry, you should be focusing."

"In a minute I will. What were you saying?"

Suzanne took a deep breath. "I don't know how to say it."

Richard looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "You're feeling confused, about us three, and you... ?"

"Yes. And no."

"Just follow your heart."

"But how? It tells me different things at the same time."

Richard nodded. "It always seems to. Only one feeling is true. The others are not."

Suzanne looked at him, considering.

"Five minutes," the stage manager called out as he wandered past.

"At some point, you'll know," Richard said quietly, smiling at her. "Okay, time to get back to the music."

Suzanne seemed to shake off her thoughts. She nodded at Richard. "All right. I'm going to go get a seat in the hall for the second half. Good luck, Richard. I'll see you after."

"Thanks, Suzanne," he said. "Thanks for playing with us. You added a lot to the evening."

She gave him a warm hug and then kissed his cheek gently. After grabbing her violin case, she quickly slipped out the door.

Richard stared at the rectangle of light from the green room door as it was slowly swallowed up by the darkness.

Intriguing... 

As the last sliver of light disappeared, he let go of those thoughts.

He paced around, imagining the first Etude.

I'm more nervous than I thought, too ... Where are the girls?

A few minutes before it was time, Irina materialized out of the darkness.

"Hello, Riccardo," she said.

"Oh hi, Mrs. T."

"Very nice. A very good first half."

"Thanks."

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Good. Not tired at all."

"Remember, take your time between the Etudes. Make sure you clear one from your head before you start the next one."

Richard nodded.

"I will watch from here, okay?"

"Sure."

The buzz of conversation from the audience quieted as the stage manager worked the light box to dim the hall and brighten the stage.

Sandra and Emily returned just then, and Richard found himself suddenly feeling some relief.

Irina smiled at the girls and clapped her hands quietly as they neared.

The girls smiled back at her.

"Hello, Mrs. T."

"Beautiful, both of you."

"Thanks."

"Whenever you are ready," the stage manager said to Richard, after a moment.

"Might as well get it over with," he said. "No point waiting."

Sandra hugged him first. She whispered in his ear. "I love you, Richard. Go show them what you can do."

Emily hugged him next. "I'd kiss you, but ... Go kick some butt. I love you..."

Even though he knew Irina was watching, Richard kissed her anyway, eliciting a wide-eyed grin.

"See you in a bit," he said.

His nerves were gone as he walked out on stage.

-------

Six Etudes ... Frederic Chopin (1810 — 1849)

Opus 25, No. 1 in A flat

Dave started the tapes as the lights in the hall dimmed. A few moments later, applause greeted Richard as he walked out. At least he's smiling,  Dave thought with a grin. We'll see how he's holding up after these next six pieces... 

Dave marked the index point on the DAT machines as Richard began to play the first Etude. Satisfied with the levels he had set for the piano, he scooted his chair over to the window that looked out over the hall.

"The boy is good," Jarrett said quietly, after listening for thirty seconds.

"Yeah. Very clean..."

"You can hear Irina's influence in there. The phrasing and the inner voices sound like her."

"Mm hmm."

Richard built up the piece through the section of more intense harmonic movement, but not too much.

"He's keeping it elegant," Jarrett said.

"Probably saving himself for the ones that are coming."

Jarrett laughed. "True."

The theme returned, and Richard kept the music calm.

"It's too bad he's such a good pianist," Dave said, grinning.

They watched as Richard delicately ran through the closing arpeggios and final trill.

"Nice," Jarrett whispered, as the Etude ended. Then he turned to him with a frown. "Why is it too bad?"

"Otherwise I'd be grooming him to be my next producer."

Jarrett shook his head at the joke. "I'm not losing my hearing yet, Dave."

"No, I suppose not."

"He does have a good ear for the music, though. He did well on the edits."

"You got lazy, I heard!" Dave said, as he moved to the tape machines and readied his finger on the button to index the next piece.

"Hardly..." Jarrett said. "But he chose the takes well when I hadn't indicated."

"Agreed."

Richard jumped into the second Etude.

"Saving himself indeed," Jarrett said. "All right, Dave ... Quit talking my ear off and let me listen!"

Dave just grinned and sat again.

Opus 25, No. 10 in B minor

Arlene smiled as Richard thundered through the octaves of this Etude. If played correctly, it was a real challenge. And he's doing it properly... 

It's the kind of piece I'll probably never be able to play. Not with these small hands.

The middle section will show if he's learned anything with Mrs. Tertychnaya... 

With an abrupt four note exclamation, the dramatic first section ended.

As if a curtain had been blown away in a gust, the music was suddenly pastoral.

Wow ... Not like the Richard I remember. He would have plowed through this. This is delicate ... He really likes to emphasize the inner melodies. It's like a duet ... or a trio... 

I wonder if he thinks of Emily and Sandra when he plays... 

He still closes his eyes sometimes ... Still moves his knee that way ... Some things haven't changed.

The music became more and more tender.

I know he probably doesn't think of me in that way now, but he used to... 

Or maybe he still does a little ... Why else would he have done everything he's done? I was the one who pushed him away, and he was the one who brought me back ... And the girls did say he liked talking with me... 

Arlene remembered their romantic evenings spent in the city a year ago.

That bistro ... I'll never forget those nights, when music was so fun ... Talking for hours about a recording, or the pieces we were working on. Everything was so ... available for the taking.

Her thoughts turned momentarily dark as she pictured her Juilliard teacher, before smashing the image away.



How different things are now. He plays so well. He's going to have it all, I know. His voice is coming out. He just needed to have a lover...

Or two...

It could have been me, but I ruined it...

And yet, because of him I have William...

When I come to Wexford, having Richard around will be the best part, even if we never get together again. And yet, with Sandra and Emily, anything seems possible...



The music began to turn unsettled and dramatic again, but it didn't change her mood. Arlene still felt the hope and warmth of a renewed friendship, and she almost clapped as Richard executed the ending of the Etude with perfect control and excitement.

Almost ... but she didn't.

Opus 25, No. 7 in C sharp minor

Well done, Richard.

It was the first thought that entered William's mind. Until the accompaniment started, his mind had been blank, save for the plaintive melody Richard had slowly fingered.

Not Irina, but then again, no one has her left hand ... Or her feeling, for that matter... 

William listened intently. But he's learning. He's still a little deliberate on the melody. Not quite a direct look into his soul, yet. But there are glimpses, moments... 

The music turned more urgent as his left hand played the series of runs that led into the first climactic moment.

Ah, now some more emotion. Naturally, this technical part would suit him perfectly.

He rubbed his pinky on Arlene's hand in anticipation. He noticed her smile at him. He didn't turn, but raised his eyebrows in pleasure at the peak moment.

As the music turned pensive again, William did look at Arlene.



They are such different players. There will never be a time one would confuse them, no matter who they study with.

I hope Arlene finds her place here at Wexford. Richard always benefited from talking to another pianist ... Especially Arlene, with such a different approach...

She could shape a new facet of his playing, just by being here next year.

Oh, he's human ... A rare mistake. At last something to tease him about! Because so far, he's really done well...



The Etude wound down to a quiet close.

He still needs more emotional stamina for this Etude ... But still, an admirable job.

Well done, Richard.

Opus 25, No. 8 in D flat

Irina could imagine Richard's fingers on the keys like they were her own, even though from the side of the stage, his hands were mostly blocked by his back.

The notes are smeared together. He's holding the pedal a little too much. We will work on that at the next lesson,  she thought, adding to her mental list. Tomorrow... 

No, perhaps not tomorrow...  she corrected, remembering the party.

This piano does not help. It has excellent tone for melody, but not enough attack for clarity on an Etude like this one.

It is a very short piece, however.

The decrescendo was very good,  she noted, also adding that to her list.

The Etude was soon over. Irina already had the next Etude in her head, before the piano stopped ringing.

Opus 25, No .5 in E minor

Viktoriya had only a passing recognition of the set of Etudes, unable to name them by opus and number. Still, as Irina's daughter, she had heard them enough to recognize them musically. As Richard started the fifth one, she remembered disliking it in the past. The melody was grotesquely adorned with dissonant notes, and the whole thing left her feeling like someone was cackling at her.

Mother probably made him play this one to work on something or other. Sure wasn't for the musicality ... Well, at last the final Etude will be good, if I remember it right.

Richard played into the unresolved cadence, and suddenly something vaguely familiar about the pause struck Viktoriya.

Wait ... Oh... ! I guess I do like this one... 

Like harsh day turning into sweet night, the music became romantic. Richard's right hand played the sublime arpeggiated accompaniment while his left played a beautiful melody.

She found herself suddenly in her mother's garden, lying under a blanket with Richard as they looked up at the stars.

That was a special night ... This music was how it felt ... I wonder if he's thinking of me now, as he plays.

Likely not ... He never called me since. And he has someone. It was just a singularity.

But tonight ... No, he will be busy, with family and friends. There will be no chance to spend time with him alone, to talk, or look at the stars... 

The right hand figures grew even more filigreed as the emotional melody continued.

I wonder if he felt the spark between us. It's like we've been together before. I hardly know him... 

But I do know him... 

The return of the dissonant first theme was lost on Viktoriya, as her mind drifted into a place where Richard was playing her, and not the piano.

Opus 25, No. 12 in C minor

It can't be ending so soon... 

Vittorio gripped the armrests of his seat. The last Etude. The best Etude... 

Richard began the stormy piece without any hesitation.

Dio mio... 

The wild music swept through Vittorio, immediately flooding him with even more emotion. He'd heard the Etudes hundreds, if not thousands of times. But never like this. Not with my son playing... 

He could have been playing anything, and Vittorio would have been proud. Anything, from a classic Beethoven sonata to a dissonant atonal modern piece, would have pulled on Vittorio's heart.

But this last Etude magnified everything that Vittorio had given to arrive at this moment: years of working more than a man should at physical labor, in order to take his son to see concerts, and pay for weekly piano lessons.

Even though Richard had shown talent at an early age, people had cautioned Vittorio about putting too much hope in a future as a musician.

But I always knew ... Tonight he has repaid me, and he will continue to grow. He no longer needs me. I will be his biggest fan, but beyond that I can no longer help him, now... 

Listen ... How the melody sings, even while he plays the arpeggios... 

Richard seemed to be consumed by the music as he approached the ending.

Vittorio was the first to clap. The applause he'd been storing during all six Etudes burst out of him.

"Bravo!" he cried.

The rest of the hall followed his lead, even as Richard remained still, his hands still holding the final chord.

At last he rose, looked at Vittorio for a moment, and then took his bow.

Vittorio's face still streamed tears long after Richard left the stage.

-------

Serenade (1943) ... Benjamin Britten (1913 — 1976)

Richard gazed at Emily as she began the solo horn call which constituted the Prologue of the Serenade. He still found it amazing she played it entirely without depressing the valves. It makes the piano look easy... 

The last piece ... After everything, here we are... 

No sooner had the last quiet horn note sounded when Richard began the Pastoral.

The trio now stopped all conscious thought of things external to the music, and threw themselves into the performance.

The months of hard work showed in their close ensemble, but what came through to the audience most was the closeness that these three musicians felt for each other. Their musical connection ran deep, supported by emotions and memories that had been hard won.

Some who watched already knew the truth; some suspected only a friendly relationship; and still others figured out that these three shared much more than music.

But for everyone, it became a transcendent performance. No one failed to feel the darkness of the Elegy, or the lightness of the Hymn. The Sonnet moved everyone, especially those who knew of Sandra's recent loss.

"Turn the key deftly in the oilèd wards, And seal the hushèd Casket of my Soul."

Emily had left the stage before the Sonnet, and as the final chord of that emotional adagio faded into the hall, her horn came from a great distance to play the Epilogue, consisting of exactly the same notes as the Prologue.

But how different it sounds, now, at the end... 

Even though it is the same, after everything that happened in between, it's different... 

The hall remained still for a pregnant moment as the last horn note diminished to nothingness.

Richard had found the response to be different for each of their three individual efforts, earlier in the evening. The applause for Sandra's singing had been emotional. All had been swept up by the romantic sounds of the lieder she had sung. Emily's applause had been more respectful, perhaps led by the musicians in the audience who knew the difficulty of playing her Sonata well. Richard's last Etude had been met by energized clapping and rousing cheers. The technical and musical aspects of the Chopin had excited everyone.

When the applause came for the Serenade, it started quietly. Perhaps some were unsure if the piece had ended. Others wondered if they should wait for Emily to return to the stage.

Richard held his hand out as she appeared from offstage with her horn. Smiling broadly, he took Sandra's and Emily's hands in his, and kissed them on the fingers. The three of them took some time to look at each other, silently acknowledging how much they had enjoyed performing together.

At last the trio stepped forward, and the audience's acknowledgement grew to its fullest.

The three of them basked in the moment, smiling as they held hands and bowed twice.

Emotional, excited, appreciative ... It's all wrapped into one for us... 

Emily pulled on Richard, and they walked off the stage, grinning ever larger.

A second call was warranted as the applause continued. They walked out, giddy, and bowed once more.

Then it was over. The applause faded as they reached the side of the stage the second time.

The girls threw themselves around Richard as they were just out of sight from the audience, behind the side curtain.

"We did it!"

They hugged and kissed and even cried, suddenly feeling the tension and concentration of hours and months, begin to give way to the vibrant satisfaction that the end of a performance brings.

Richard pulled back, breathing deeply as he looked at his friends.

Such life in their eyes... 

"You two were amazing tonight," he said.

"We done good," Emily agreed. "I think we pulled off the Serenade, after all."

Sandra nodded. "That's the best I've done it, for sure."

Richard nodded. "The Sonnet was incredible, Sandra. It was like from another world, and then Emily came in with the offstage call ... Mm ... I got shivers..."

They laughed and hugged again.

"I suppose there'll be people wanting to greet us," Emily said, turning to the door that led to the green room.

"It could be a long night," Richard said. "There were a bunch more people here than I thought."

Sandra looked at them. "In a way, I just want to be with you two right now."

Emily smiled. "I know. But we have some things to do before that happens."

They at last let go of each other as the stage manager pulled the switch to the stage lights with a reverberant click. Loud talking from the departing audience still filtered through the curtains.

In the dimness of the backstage lighting, the trio shared one long kiss together: their encore for each other.

As they walked slowly to the door to the green room, Richard shivered.

I never want to let this feeling go... 



-------

Chapter 34: Nocturne


Richard was grinning ear to ear as he stood next to Sandra and Emily in the green room.

The audience had been larger than any of them had expected, and so was the crowd that lined up to greet them. Many Wexford students had come, including the violinist Jeff, for whom Sandra would be conducting in the fall. As promised, beside him was a mischievous looking friend who asked her to conduct for his recital as well. Sandra politely declined, eliciting a victorious fist from Jeff. Richard grinned as he saw her flush at the compliment.

In addition, a number of people from the community had come out for the program. An older gentleman, who reminded Richard of William, started dissecting the Serenade performance as the line grew longer behind him. A middle aged couple named Bob and Betty were particularly ebullient with praise, having attended the concert by chance. There was even a young girl of perhaps eight, clearly excited to be awake past her bedtime. Her parents had brought her to meet the performers. She reminded Richard of himself when he was a youth.

He smiled warmly as he crouched down before her. "Did you like the music?"

The girl nodded shyly.

"Are you going to be a pianist one day?" he asked.

"Oh ... No. I liked the singing much better," she said, pointing to Sandra.

Richard laughed, and patted her head. "I think I'm going to do my next recital alone," he said to the slightly embarrassed but grinning parents.

There were some surprise guests, as well. Richard had been especially pleased to see Viktoriya and Harvey again. He had not expected her to attend, and when he spotted her in the audience during the Etudes, he felt a tingle.

He kept catching her eye as she approached down the greeting line. After a friendly and enthusiastic hug, he had introduced her to Sandra and Emily, whose eyes brightened at meeting her.

She and Harvey hurried off to set things up for the party. Lingering to talk with each audience member would have meant two hours of chatting, so they kept the line moving with promises of catching up at Irina's.

At last, the crowd of people that had lined up to congratulate the trio was reaching an end. Their parents remained, and they split up to congratulate their respective children.

Angelina and Vittorio each kissed both his cheeks, before Vittorio took Richard into a hug.

"You are incredible, my son," he said in emotional Italian. "Thank you..."

Richard squeezed him tight. "No, thank you. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here."

Vittorio pulled away and looked at him, his eyes wet. "An unforgettable night..."

Emily was hugging her father, as Audrey and her horn teacher looked on with smiles. Sandra was talking excitedly with her parents and Kyle.

Richard sighed as he looked around. The Wexford students and general audience had left. Arlene and William were talking to Suzanne, and Allison was talking with Jarrett and Dave, who had delivered both congratulations and the concert tape to Richard. All around, those dear to them were together. They were brought closer by the music that the trio had played.

The feeling was exhilarating...

-------

The night at Irina's began with wine and finger foods that Harvey had made. As expected, the food was exotic and excellent.

Initially, everyone stood around the living room, discussing the recital, or the artwork on the walls, or meeting those in the room they didn't know yet. Richard was glad to see his parents conversing amiably with Sandra's parents, despite Vittorio's thick accent. Harvey and Viktoriya were busy making sure everyone was comfortable, fed, and had the beverage of their choice.

Richard grinned as William accosted Irina almost immediately. He could tell by Irina's smile that William was pouring on his charms.

Somewhat soon, the party began to splinter, as Harvey took a few people to his art studio, while some others went out to the large patio to enjoy the comfortable evening air.

Richard approached Arlene and William as Irina excused herself to help with drinks. They settled into a corner of the large living room.

"She's amazing," William said, watching Irina as she went to the kitchen.

Richard smiled. "Star struck," he said to Arlene, who laughed.

"She's going to give me a signed picture," William said confidentially.

Richard raised a brow. "Don't you move fast!"

William laughed. "Well..."

"Sometimes he does," Arlene said exaggeratedly.

"Hey, have you heard anything from Wexford yet?" Richard asked her.

She smiled, and nodded. "Got the word this week. I'm coming for sure."

Richard took her hand, grinning broadly. "Oh, sweet! That's awesome."

"I'm being deserted, one lover at a time," William pouted.

Richard patted his shoulder. "Move out here, then."

He looked offended at the thought. "I don't like the two of you that much!"

Richard and Arlene laughed.

"So, how did we do tonight?" Richard asked them, his voice turning serious.

"You were brilliant, I thought," Arlene said. "But the girls blew you away..."

Richard started to frown, and then caught her playful look.

"I do believe she's already taken sides," William said with a laugh.

"Great," Richard drawled.

"I'll give you my critique later this week. No need to bring you back to earth right now," William said.

"That bad?" Richard said, turning to him.

William shrugged enigmatically.

"Just tell me now," Richard urged. "Honestly. If I sucked, I want to know."

"Oh, William's just giving you a hard time," Arlene said.

William pursed his lips. "I was really impressed, Richard."

Richard frowned at him after he didn't go on. "But?"

"But nothing. You've made some huge strides since you lived in New York. There are definitely some excellent things brewing inside here," he said, tapping Richard's chest.

Richard frowned at him. "I thought you were going to bring me back to earth!"

"Told you," Arlene said.

"Well, let's see..." William said, considering. "A few mistakes, here and there ... But honestly? I thought you did admirably. There were a few pieces that you weren't quite ready for, I think, but that doesn't mean you didn't play them well. I can hear where you're going, and it's good. Was it the best performance of the Etudes I've ever heard? No. But from what I did hear, someday you might just do that. From the point of view of where you are heading, the recital was amazing."

Richard nodded. "Thanks, William. That means something, coming from you."

He nodded back respectfully. "We'll talk more this week. I had some thoughts on some things you did, and they might help you see the pieces in a new light."

"Okay. We can get together in a practice room and rehash the recital. Arlene, I'd love it if you joined us. I want to hear what you have to say, too."

Arlene smiled. "Of course."

"Good. A piano orgy it is, then," William announced somewhat loudly.

"William, fuck... ! We can't take you anywhere," Richard said, looking around.

Arlene, who had turned slightly red at the comment, just smiled.

"Oh, don't be such prudes!" William said, standing. "I think I'm going to go find Irina."

"Going to try and mooch another picture from her?"

"No. She's the one pouring the wine," he said with a wink.

-------

Allison took a deep breath. "This is really beautiful."

"I've never been here," Sandra explained. "Richard was right, though. It is a romantic spot."

The two of them had wandered off from the porch and eventually found themselves in Irina's garden. They sat together on a bench, looking at the night sky.

"It's so cool to see you again, after so long," Sandra said.

"I know. It's been seven months."

"How are things going for you?"

"Really well. I'm essentially done with the Ph.D. Just waiting for the paper that says it's official now."

"Congrats, Allison! Can we call you Dr. Campbell now?"

She gave Sandra a sidelong look. "Please no!"

Sandra laughed.

"I'm playing in an orchestra, too," Allison added.

Sandra turned to her. "Really? That's great!"

"I decided after the last time that I was here that I needed to play music again."

Sandra nodded. "Can't live without it..."

"Yeah. It's just a community orchestra, but it's fun."

"Of course ... But you say that like it's not good."

Allison shrugged. "I'm sure it's nothing like the orchestra you have at your school."

Sandra shook her head. "You're playing music. It doesn't matter how or where, really."

"I know. But sometimes I feel a little sad. I could have maybe been in something professional, if I had done things differently."

Sandra took a moment before speaking. "Do you regret your choice?"

Allison laughed. "I didn't choose, really. I think I told Richard: I went into biology based on a coin toss."

Sandra looked at her with raised brows. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. He thought it was crazy, too! But he also said that going into science was the only way to possibly do both."

"True."

"But I still feel ... Oh, I don't know how to say this without sounding proud or conceited."

"I know you're not that way. Just talk."

Allison sighed. "I guess I feel a little out of place. I really like some of the people in the orchestra. But I also feel like I could play in something better. Oh, that sounds terrible!"

"No," Sandra said softly. "I kind of know what you mean."

"You do?" Allison asked in surprise.

"Yeah. It's different than your situation, but ... Back where I grew up, I played fiddle with a folk band. I always thought it was fun. I love the guys in the band, and they helped me grow up. But when I came to Wexford, I felt a little embarrassed about it. I didn't bring my violin, not wanting to have to play it."

"Have you played with them recently?"

"Yeah. And even though I've learned a lot here, and the guys in the band can't read a lick of music, it was still really fun to go back and play with them."

Allison nodded. "I do like playing in the orchestra, even if the players aren't necessarily top notch."

"So then it shouldn't really matter."

"No, I guess you're right ... So you've gotten over your embarrassment, then?"

Sandra laughed. "Not so much. I still don't have my violin here. I guess I'm all talk and no action on this one!"

"Have Richard or Emily heard you play?"

"Emily has. She said she liked it."

"Why do you worry, then?"

Sandra shrugged. "I don't know."

"I know what you mean, but it is hard to explain."

"Exactly."

They shared a look, and then laughed.

"It's good to see you again, Sandra."

"How's your man?"

"Doing well." Allison smiled in a way that added meaning to her reply.

"What does that mean?"

"Well..."

"Wait, you didn't get into a three way relationship, did you?" Sandra suddenly asked. "Have we corrupted you?"

"No, no!" Allison dismissed, laughing freely. "But we did try, you know, doing something out of doors," she said quietly.

"Ah. So we did corrupt you!"

"Yes, I suppose so!"

"What happened?"

Allison laughed apologetically. "Oh, it was very tame. We went on a hike, and..." Allison waved her hands shyly.

Sandra grinned broadly. "You waved your hands? That sounds like ... fun."

Allison swatted her arm. "Don't make me say it... ! It was fun. Very tame, though. We were quite remote. It was more likely we'd be seen in our bedroom, than where we were. Still..."

"It's a start. Next thing you know, you'll be asking him to let your friend join you!"

Allison laughed. "No, I think not. I hinted at it, once, and he thought it was a bit odd."

"How did that come up?"

"I ... Well, I told him about meeting you three."

Sandra sniggered. "Word is spreading about us in Australia?"

"Heh. No, not quite. But anyway, he didn't take the hint."

"Hint... ? So you really would do it?"

Allison smiled, and looked away. "I don't know."

"You would. I can tell!"

"It is intriguing, even though it goes far beyond what I thought my boundaries were."

Sandra nodded. "I thought so too, once."

"Seeing the three of you changed my boundaries more than I thought," Allison said slowly. "But, it still takes me a long time to move towards them!"

"It's an ever changing thing, Allison."

"Do you ever think about that last night that I was here?"

Sandra nodded. "Sure."

"I do, too."

"Richard and Emily obviously inspired you to go on a hike, heh heh."

Allison laughed. "Yes..." She turned to Sandra. "But I also think about the other thing."

Sandra nodded thoughtfully. "You know, that changed things for me."

Allison frowned. "Why?"

"Until then, Emily and I hadn't really done anything with each other."

"I remember you saying that."

"But after that..." Sandra smiled.

Allison laughed slightly. "Don't blame me!"

"Oh, but we do!"

"So you told them about us kissing?"

Sandra nodded.

"Were they mad?"

"Not at all."

Allison looked relieved. "That's good. I always worried a little that maybe they'd be mad at me, if you told them."

"No ... And they wouldn't be mad now, either."

Allison looked at Sandra's eyes for a moment, considering the obvious.

I wish I could... 

"I promised myself that if I ever did that again, it would be with my bloke's blessing," Allison said quietly.

Sandra looked at her carefully.

"As much as I'd like to," Allison continued, "I made a promise to myself."

"I completely understand."

"You do?"

"Yes. If you start doing things for selfish reasons, it will soon be over with you and him."

Allison nodded. "Yes, that's true."

Sandra pulled Allison into a hug.

"The three of us have worked through some tough moments in the last year," she said. "We've grown really strong, and yet also have discovered other people who we enjoy spending time with."

"How so?" Allison asked.

"Well, look at you and me, even. I suppose it was inevitable that eventually others would come into our circle in different ways. Once we realized there wasn't just one person for us, we realized that there might not just be two, either."

"I never thought of it that way."

"Still, it all comes back to the three of us. We are bonded together, Richard, Emily, and me. For now, no one has really fit in as an equal fourth. Not yet, at least."

"I don't know how you do it. I have enough trouble staying close to my man. It seems complicated."

"But it feels right."

Allison nodded. "Before our kiss, I would have laughed at that idea. But, it did feel right..."

"Suzanne and I have found something special together."

"I was wondering about that," Allison said. "You two look at each other like you do with Richard and Emily."

"She's amazing. She grows closer with Richard and Emily every day, too. But she's also moving away in a month."

"That's too bad."

"Yes. But I feel like one day we'll play music together again. I feel a musical connection with her more strongly than with anyone else."

"More than with Richard and Emily?"

Sandra considered. "It's different. With them, there's so much more involved. We've been through a lot, and it colors the way we play music. I mean, it's for the better, but it's also different. Music is just one part of the many things I share with them.

"But with Suzanne, it's the pure musical connection that came first. I didn't even know who she was the first time I worked with her. And yet, we connected instantly."

"I see what you are saying."

"Of course, that would change as we go on, too. It already has; tonight was more than just about the music, with her. But, it still stems from that first time we worked together."

Allison nodded. "What about Richard and Emily?"

Sandra smiled. "They have found some connections, too..."

"Does it feel strange?"

"Strange?"

"To have Suzanne, and these other people, I don't know ... On the side?"

Sandra considered. "I don't know that it's strange. But it is new. When I sang with Suzanne tonight, it was so amazing. It feels like we have ESP. I know exactly how she's going to play her part, like I was playing it myself. Emily calls it musical sex."

Allison laughed. "Is that what was happening up there?"

"Well, Emily is right, so yeah. And I play that way with Richard and her sometimes too, but there's also something different about it."

Sandra paused. "Even kissing her is different. So is kissing Richard, and Emily, and you, even. It's strange how such a simple act can be so different for everyone."

"How does Suzanne fit in, then?" Allison asked, after a moment.

Sandra chuckled. "You sound like the voice in my head, asking all these questions ... I don't know. I've been too busy with the recital to figure that out."

Allison nodded.

"I know how I feel with her," Sandra continued. "I don't know about Emily and Richard. They like her, I know that ... We've rehearsed with her, of course, but other than that, we haven't spent much time together."

"What if they don't feel a strong connection with her, like you?"

Sandra shrugged. "I don't know. The three of us have this idea that there is a pool of people who are your soul mates. Not necessarily just one other person."

"Hmm ... But most people who have found their significant other are faithful to them. Most of the world is set up in couples."

"Maybe they stop looking, once they are committed. Or at least vow to not look. That means monogamy. Or cheating, if they find another in the pool and can't resist."

"I can see that," Allison agreed. "When I got serious with my bloke, I stopped considering other men around me. They never seemed like options anymore. It was only when I met you three, that suddenly things looked different. I mean, people joke about the threesome being a naughty thing. It's every bloke's dream, right?"

Sandra laughed. "Probably."

"But you three were different. I could see how you were in love, just like a couple would be. And no jealousy ... It was actually fascinating."

"I guess we were in love, even back then. Falling in love, at least."

"Do you think you'd be a threesome, if you had met Richard first and been with him for a while?"

Sandra took several breaths before responding. "I don't know," she finally admitted. "It was fate, or luck, that let me find them both at the same time. I would not exchange what I have with them for anything, now. I don't want to be just with Richard, or just with Emily, but rather with both."

"I can see that," Allison said, smiling. "Somehow, it worked out for you three. I envy you, Sandra."

"Envy?"

"You have it all. Two incredible lovers..." Allison laughed a little. "Well, maybe more, I don't know ... You sing incredibly; you're unbelievably beautiful; you are doing what you love —"

Sandra closed her eyes and smiled as Allison spoke. "Thank you, Allison," she said emotionally, taking her hand.

Allison hugged her. "It was really worth coming out this week. I know we've only spent a few days together last year, and a few hours tonight, but I wouldn't have missed this for anything."

-------

"Emily, do you have a moment?"

Emily turned and looked up at her dad, standing arm in arm with Audrey.

"Sure. What is it?"

"Come with me," Clark said.

Emily followed along with Audrey as he led them to the den near the front entrance of the house where a few coats and purses had been left.

He's going to announce their wedding,  Emily thought, smiling. She glanced at the diamond ring Audrey now wore. Her father was acting a little strange. He obviously brought Audrey all the way out here for that. For once, I can approve... 

Clark turned to her when they were in the quiet room. He sighed, seemingly looking at her for the first time. At last he shook his head slowly.

"Emily, you were amazing tonight," he said.

"Thanks," she said. Her father's slightly tremulous voice made her throat catch.

"I know things have been rough between us for a long time."

Emily smiled and shrugged a little. "I'm glad you came to the concert. I wasn't sure you'd make it. I know you have Mahler Three rehearsals going on. It was probably hard to get out here."

Clark shook his head. "It wasn't hard. A couple of years ago, it would have been impossible, yes."

He glanced at Audrey, his eyes seeking hers in support.

Here it comes,  she thought.

"But I've changed. When you called about the recital..."

Clark turned his eyes to the floor. Emily thought they looked wet. It was a sight she couldn't remember having ever seen.

"I realized something tonight that made me very sad," he continued, his voice heavy with regret. "I know exactly how everyone in my orchestra plays, but I hardly know how my own daughter plays."

"You kind of have to, with your job," Emily said gently, suddenly realizing her father was genuinely upset.

Maybe he's not announcing their engagement... 

"No. It's not right," he whispered. "I should have paid more attention. I know Ralph keeps me updated on how your lessons go, but ... I should have been more involved. I should have done so, long ago."

Emily looked away, suddenly fighting back tears of her own. Where is my father?

"I wasn't exactly all that open to it," she said, surprised at her words. And yet, it's the truth.

Clark shook his head. "And I don't blame you."

He took a last long deep breath. "I made some mistakes, Emily. I thought I was doing the best thing, at the time. I could try to explain my reasons, but in the end, it's in the past."

He seemed lost in thought for a moment, and then he wiped his eyes and pulled Emily's chin gently towards him, to look her in the eyes. His hand dropped from her face, leaving a gentle caress.

"There are many things that I can't change, but there are some that I can."

He stepped away, reached into the shadows and pulled out a rectangular object.

Emily's heart stopped as she saw it. It took her by such surprise that Audrey had to catch and support her.

Clark smiled sadly. "One of my biggest mistakes ... But I hope this can correct it a little..."

His words barely came through the rushing and roaring sound that overwhelmed her senses. She fought to breathe as she stared at the black violin case, pulsing in the dim light. She hadn't seen it in over seven years, and yet every detail was immediately familiar, like she had brought it to the room herself.

It can't be... 

Clark set it down on the desk, and stood aside, his chest heaving with emotion.

Emily walked slowly over to it. Her arms trembled as she ran her fingers across the top, and then worked the clasps. When they were unfastened, she paused, unsure what feelings would come when she opened it.

This can't be ... He sold it!

Emily lifted the lid...

Music exploded in her mind as she saw the violin. She stepped back, unbelieving, and shaken by the intense feelings that surged inside of her.

She was eleven again. Her mother was playing ... Bach...

She looked at her father, her mouth moving but making no sound.

"I had it checked over, and everything is perfect," he said.

Again the words hardly registered with Emily.

Emily at last managed to whisper. "But ... You sold it..."

Clark shook his head sadly. "No, Emily. I never did. Even I would never do that."

"But ... You said ... and the money in my account..."

"I thought that was the only way to make you forget about it. I knew one day you'd want to have this. But you were so set on laying it to rest with Elizabeth..."

His tears returned. "I was going to give it back after you got a few years older. Then ... Then I reacted badly when you pushed me away, and I held onto it instead."

Emily looked up at him through wet eyes. "Why now, then?"

"I've made some mistakes, like I said. I didn't think they were mistakes at the time, or I ignored them, at least." He glanced at Audrey. "But in the last year I've started to realize that I've missed a lot of things that happened in your life. Things that I wish I had been a part of. When you called about the recital ... I knew it was a test. And ... And I decided to make the right choice, this time."

Emily looked back and forth between her father and her mother's violin, still incredulous. "I can't believe it..."

"I'm sorry, Emily. I do love you."

Clark pulled her into a hug, and Emily embraced her father tightly. She hadn't hugged him, really hugged him, for over ten years.

I can't believe it ... Is he changed? Audrey ... She must have helped him... 

Emily pulled away from her father, the tears streaming down her cheeks as she smiled. She turned to Audrey, and hugged her too.

"Thank you," Emily whispered to her.

Audrey just squeezed her in response.

Emily at last returned to looking at the violin in wonder.

Will it still sound the same, after all this time? Maybe the music in it is not dead ... I need to show Richard and Sandra... 

Audrey handed her a tissue.

"Here, Emily."

She laughed. "I must look a wreck."

"No, you look beautiful," Audrey said.

Emily dabbed at her face as she smiled at the violin.

"I guess I owe you a bunch of money, now," she said to her father, laughing in spite of herself.

Clark took her by the shoulders and shook his head. "No, Emily. You've paid a far greater price already."

-------

Richard had not been sure if there would be any playing of music that evening. The recital had been enough for him, that was sure. However, he should have known that when a crowd of musicians and music lovers gathers, music is inevitable.

Arlene and William had started the entertainment by asking to try Irina's pianos. The request granted, they had each played a few snippets of various solo pieces. Eventually this led to playing some four-hand music that Irina pulled from her stacks of scores.

Richard grinned as Arlene at one point crossed a hand over William's. He gently put it back in its place, and they both laughed.

Looks like they've been practicing Arlene's trick in private,  he thought.

"Hey, there," a voice whispered in his ear.

Richard smiled as Sandra wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"Where have you been?" he asked.

Sandra smiled brightly at him. "Out."

"Out?"

"Looking at the gardens," she said impishly.

Richard looked around the room, noticing that Allison had returned.

"All by yourself?" he asked, raising a brow.

Sandra grinned enigmatically.

"How are you?" he asked sincerely, turning to her and smiling warmly.

"I'm..." Sandra attempted a few words, but at last shook her head, and smiled. Her eyes sparkled.

Richard nodded. "Me too. To think we almost quit a bunch of times this semester. This was so worth it."

She pulled him close, leaning her head on his shoulder in contentment. As William and Arlene turned to a lyrical section of their piece, Sandra swayed with Richard slightly, in an imperceptible dance.

"We're done," she said softly.

"I know. It still feels unreal."

"Would you do it again?"

"For sure," Richard said without hesitation.

"Me too ... Everything, if I had to."

Richard kissed her hair, oblivious to those who watched them.

"I love you, Sandrine."

Sandra giggled slightly. "I love you, too, Riccardo."

The music stuttered, and Richard turned to frown at William, who grinned back as he continued to play.

Fucker. He started messing up the rhythm on purpose!

"What was that?" Sandra asked, pulling away.

"Just William, being William. I guess we were getting too personal, and he decided to mess with me..."

Sandra laughed, and then sighed as she looked at Richard for some time.

Thoughts escaped him, as he lost himself in her eyes.

The spell was broken by the music ending and a smattering of applause.

"I saw Dobra," Sandra said.

"Really?"

"He was in the back row, at the recital."

"Does that mean... ?"

"I don't know. He didn't come backstage to say hi, so maybe he snuck in."

Richard chuckled. "That would be so cool ... But it would actually be cooler if he's back."

"I know."

"We'll find out soon enough, I guess."

Sandra nodded. "I have this gut feeling that things have worked out, though. I just know. But we'll find out in class. Tomorrow, if I can get up."

Richard raised a brow at her. "Isn't your class at three?"

Sandra nodded. "So? What's your point?"

He just laughed. "Slacker..."

She just swatted his arm. "Hey, where's Emily at?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen her in a while."

"Must be with ... No, Kyle is over on that couch. Hmm ... I should go talk with him. He looks a little anxious when she's not in the room."

"This is probably not like the parties he's used to, but..."

Sandra moved close to kiss him by habit, and then caught herself at the last second. She kissed his cheek instead.

"That would have been interesting," Richard whispered.

"Well ... It probably would have been the icing on the cake. I'm thinking more and more people suspect..."

"Yeah, probably..."

"Shouldn't you be talking to Viktoriya?" Sandra asked, as she walked away with a smile to sit with Kyle on the couch.

Richard laughed.

Suzanne entered from the direction of the hallway that led to the garden, looking quite happy.

Hmm ... Now I wonder who she was with... 

He was about to wander around when he caught sight of Emily coming into the living room. For a moment, he froze at the emotional expression on her face.

She's been crying... 

Audrey and her father materialized out of the darkness behind her, smiling.

Then Richard saw the case.

He felt a sudden chill run up his spine as he drifted over to the couch, his eyes still on Emily.

"Sandra ... Look..."

-------

Emily headed for her two friends. Her body was in a turmoil from excitement and old memories.

Richard and Sandra waited expectantly as she approached.

Emily tried to speak, but the emotions were too thick. She just looked at them, and held out her case.

"Emily, is that... ?"

She nodded, her eyes brimming.

"Wow..."

She set it down on the couch, and opened the case.

Richard hugged Emily as they looked at the instrument.

"Emily..." Sandra said, her voice emotional.

From beside them, William whistled. "Either I've had too much wine, or that is one fine instrument on the couch. Who's is it?"

"It was my mother's," Emily said quietly.

"Ah ... It sounds like there is a story in there," William said quietly.

"Yes," Emily managed to say.

"Do you play?" he asked.

"No. But..." Emily turned to Sandra. "Will you?"

Sandra recoiled. "No ... No way, Emily."

"Why not?"

She held her hands out. "I ... No. No way."

More people had gathered around. Emily caught sight of Suzanne trying to peer in through the onlookers.

"Suzanne," she called out, her voice cracking.

Suzanne came around to stand near Emily, and finally caught sight of the instrument. She looked at her quizzically.

"That's my mother's violin."

Suzanne stared back, seemingly transfixed.

"Will you play something on it?" Emily asked.

Suzanne seemed not to hear.

Emily reached down and released the bow, and then picked up the violin. Her hands suddenly shook visibly.

My mother's hands held this... 

She held it out to Suzanne, who took it with careful hands. She examined it for a moment, taking in the old ruddy finish and hand carved wood.

Then she placed it to her chin.

The house grew suddenly quiet.

Suzanne drew the bow across the open strings, checking the tuning. The instrument seemed to suddenly fill the room, even with this simple act.

Suzanne looked at Emily again, her eyes questioning.

Then she took a breath and played.

-------

Suzanne struck the first G minor chord of Bach's first Violin Sonata, played the first descending phrase, and then stopped.

Oh my... 

Everyone was watching her expectantly.

She tried again. The instrument responded to the bow again, filling the room. This time she managed a few more phrases before she had to stop. Her body was suddenly resonating so fully that she couldn't even play.

"What..." she whispered, looking at Emily again.

"Is it okay?"

Suzanne just looked at her wide-eyed, and then set herself in position again.

The room was completely silent. Those who were outside and in adjoining rooms were now looking on as well.

Again she started, steeling herself to play through the intense feelings that the violin set off in her.

Suzanne had played many fine instruments. Only a few had ever done what was happening with this one.

With her own violin, she always felt like she was forcing the music out of it. She would play, and the violin would follow, often never reaching that place she imagined the music could exist.

But this ... the instrument was alive in her hands. The body resonated against her chin and shoulder, and in her left hand. Instead of following Suzanne, the instrument was leading. She played tentatively at first, uncomfortable with the exchange of roles. The way it reacted to her bowing was too sensitive for what she was used to. It seemed to feed on its own sound and grow with each note, and Suzanne had to keep up, or stop playing.

As she let her feelings of amazement relax some, she began to sense the instrument, and listen to how it spoke. Over the four minutes of the Adagio, its call grew louder and louder. Everything on it was so easy; it was like it played itself. Suzanne pushed a little more with each phrase, and felt like she had hardly begun to tap the potential that resided inside it. It seemed to be waking up, phrase by phrase.

The low register was rich and warm, and the high end clear and smooth. And yet she could make it bite when she needed.

What else is possible... ? Anything... ?

-------

The music is not dead in it!

Emily stood rooted to the spot. It was like her mother was in the room. Suzanne looked nothing like Elizabeth, and had a completely different temperament.

And yet, I feel like I am eleven,  Emily thought.

Suzanne was playing with her eyes closed.

She's in love... 

When the movement ended, the crowd murmured and clapped briefly.

Suzanne turned to Emily.

"What ... How... ?"

Emily smiled. "My dad just gave it back to me," she said simply, catching his smile.

-------

Richard squeezed Sandra's hand, and then quietly slipped out of the small crowd as Suzanne started another movement of the Bach. Everyone was still gathered around, since Emily had urged Suzanne to play more. As much as he wanted to spend all night listening to Suzanne's increasingly incredible playing, he only had a little time left to see those who were only here for the evening.

He was extremely moved by Clark's gesture, seeing how Emily's eyes had suddenly gained something in them that he had never before seen. He passed by her dad as he circled the edge of the room, and when Clark caught his eye, he nodded in respect to him.

Clark gently pulled Audrey's arm from around his, and stepped out of the group of listeners. He gestured for Richard to follow him out to the patio.

Once they were out there, Richard felt a twinge of nervousness. This man is one of the great conductors in the country ... I'm dating his daughter ... Does he know?

"I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to really speak with you in the green room," Clark said, keeping his voice quiet to avoid disturbing the impromptu concert happening inside. "But you are an excellent pianist, Richard."

Whew... !

Richard kept the wild excitement inside him from becoming more than a modest smile. "Thanks, Mr. Rathbourne."

"I wasn't sure how the Serenade would come off. String orchestra on the piano, soprano instead of tenor ... but, the three of you did quite well. The Etudes were fantastic. Surprisingly good, for someone your age."

"Thanks. We practiced pretty much non-stop this semester."

"Yes, I would imagine so."

Clark turned pensive. "How is Emily doing?" he asked.

"Um, she's doing good. Working hard ... She really knows how to rehearse a piece."

Clark smiled a little. "Yes, I would imagine ... But I meant my question not so much about her music, but about her."

"Oh. Well..."

Clark interrupted. "I can see you and her and Miss Sandra share a special friendship. I'm fairly certain Emily has told you things about ... well, our relationship. I'd guess that you don't think much of me."

Richard started to speak, but Clark held up his hand, stopping him again. Richard almost smiled, since it seemed like a gesture he would use on the podium.

"There's no need to defend the past," Clark said quietly, looking Richard in the eye. "Speak honestly about my daughter."

Richard nodded after a moment, wondering how Clark had guessed what he was about to say.

This is Clark Rathbourne standing here, talking to me...  For a moment, another flutter of nervousness whipped down his middle. Then he realized he wasn't really talking to a famous conductor, but a father. Like mine, in some ways... 

"I grew up listening to your recording of the Tchaik Piano Concerto, with Reston," Richard said slowly. "It's one of my all-time favorites. So it's kind of funny to hear you say that I'd not think much of you."

Richard laughed gently for a moment, and then glanced inside. Through a gap in the group of people who were listening, he could see Emily's emotional face, riveted on Suzanne and the instrument she played.

Richard fought off a sudden tightness in his throat. "She's an amazing woman," he said distantly. "We all went through some tough times this year. Seeing her in there, right now ... It's good. She's as happy as I've ever seen her."

Richard turned back to Clark. He thought he saw a shiny streak on Clark's visage as he also turned back from looking through the window.

Clark's mouth opened, and then he closed it. He nodded, gripped Richard's shoulder for a moment, and then walked back into the house. Richard watched him as he took his place beside Audrey again, carefully replacing her arm around his, and kissing her red hair.

Richard stayed on the deserted patio for a minute, before remembering his original reason for leaving Sandra's side. He quietly reentered the house, slipped around the captivated listeners, and at last he found who he was looking for. He moved aside her dark hair, and gently rested a hand on her shoulder.

Then he walked down the hallway. He let himself out onto the high balcony that overlooked Irina's hillside garden, and soon felt her presence beside him.

"Alone, at last," he said amiably.

-------

She looked at him, wondering if he had read her mind.

"Why did you say that?"

Richard turned to her. "Have you not been waiting for this?"

Her insides lurched. How does he know?

He spoke before she could answer. "I imagine the spring garden is much different than the one you showed me in November."

Viktoriya nodded distractedly. She stared at him for a long moment.

"Another tour?" she asked, at last snapping out of her confusion.

Richard offered his arm, and she led him down the stairs.

"I didn't know you were coming to the recital."

"I am on my way out to Hawaii," she said. "I arranged to stop here first, although it's just for tonight."

"Honeymoon?" he joked.

Viktoriya sniffed. "Nothing of the sort ... Unless that is a suggestion?"

Richard laughed. "You'd have to marry me first."

"Okay," she said immediately.

"Ah, careful. You hardly know me," he said, chuckling.

He's in a good mood... !

"But I feel like I do," she said quietly.

Richard looked at her, his eyes intense. "I know," he said, those two words carrying a great deal of meaning.

They entered the garden in silence. Again it was suddenly a different world, as the density of living things around them increased tenfold.

Richard took a deep breath beside her.

"I still can't believe your mother does this."

"We all have our secrets."

"What are you doing in Hawaii, then?"

"I have time at a telescope there."

Richard looked at her. "I thought you didn't use telescopes anymore."

Viktoriya smiled. "I had some things to think about after our night together last year. I've made some changes."

Richard nodded. He pulled her over to a bench, near where they spent the night last fall. Seemingly just out of arm's reach, the stars seemed to watch them as they sat down.

He looked at her for a very long time, his face pensive.

"I'm pretty sure of it, but I need to know."

Viktoriya looked at him in the eyes. "What?"

Richard kissed her before she knew what had happened.

The electricity was immediate.

Oh... !

He pulled away slowly, and then smiled. "Mm hm..."

He felt it too! But... 

"I don't understand..."

He looked at her carefully. "What?"

"You are with them. Emily, and Sandra. I know, now."

Richard nodded. "They are my soul mates."

She looked at him, understanding, but also confused.

"So are you," he added.

She felt a strange tingle at hearing this.

"Do you not feel it, in the house? All those people are close to me, and to Emily and Sandra. We are all connected, and the energy in there is incredible."

Viktoriya nodded. It does feel different than any other party... 

"But they cannot all be your lovers!" she suddenly blurted out, giving away her thoughts.

"Yes, they are, in different ways."

"But ... If you kiss me, you are unfaithful to them..."

Richard shook his head. "No. Not every kiss is one of unfaith. It is an extension of what we feel for each other, and that feeling is inevitable. Sandra and Emily understand."

"But then ... Why did you resist me last year?"

Richard smiled. "I wasn't ready."

Viktoriya hesitated. "And tonight?"

He looked around exaggeratedly. "I don't know. Do you think anyone would see us?"

As he turned back to her, she searched his eyes.

That look... 

-------

Richard watched Viktoriya for a long time, almost reading the thoughts in her head. She held his gaze.

"No," she said at last. "I'm not ready..."

He smiled gently. "You understand, then..."

"Yes, and no. But," she said, her voice growing more animated. "You just made my life much more complicated. Again!"

Richard looked at her for a long moment. The stars in the heavens were, for a moment, just a dim reflection of those in her eyes.

"Life is better when it's complicated."

He kissed her tenderly again, and then let her go.

"And that didn't help," she whispered.

-------

On the way back up to the house, Richard and Viktoriya met Vittorio and Harvey walking down the steps.

"Off to see the garden?" Richard asked.

"Yes, a brief tour," Harvey said in Italian.

"It's a beautiful night for a romantic walk," Viktoriya joked, also in Italian.

Richard laughed. "You never told me you spoke Italian."

"We all have our secrets," she repeated.

"We'll probably be leaving soon," Vittorio said to Richard. "Mama is getting tired. Will you want a ride?"

Richard shook his head. "I think the three of us will ride back with Allison."

Vittorio nodded. "Very well." He turned to Harvey, who led the way down to the garden.

"He'll mostly be interested in anything edible," Richard called out to Harvey as they disappeared into the night. Two deep voices laughed.

"Your father is funny," Viktoriya said, as they reached the balcony. "I was talking with him earlier."

"He's a good man. So is your father."

Viktoriya leaned out over the wall, and looked out over the hill. Harvey and Vittorio were faintly visible in the light of the night. Their voices were obscured by the loud calls of insects.

Richard joined her at the railing.

"He is a good man. He's not my real father, though," she said quietly.

He frowned at her. "Really?"

"No. He is my father in every other way, but not in that way."

"I didn't know."

"Few people do. No one, besides my parents and me, I think. And you."

He nodded gravely.

"My mother told me, once. My real father raped her, and Harvey ... killed him."

Richard turned to her in shock. "What?"

"That's how they got together."

"My god..." he whispered. As if a sudden spotlight went on, he suddenly saw Irina and her family in a whole different light.

"I always knew, somehow," Viktoriya said distantly. "I asked my mother once, and she told me. I was going through a confused period with my father."

"How so?"

"I was ... posing for his paintings. You may have seen some paintings of a dark haired woman in his studio?"

Richard nodded, remembering his realization of who the nude model was.

"That's me. Do you ... find that strange?" she asked.

"No," Richard said honestly, after considering a moment.

"It was not sexual for him. For me, well ... I was confused."

"So your mother told you the truth?"

"Yes. He doesn't know that she told me. I was still confused, though, even after I knew. I never really quite could separate the things I felt, with the things I thought were accepted. But now..."

Richard looked at her as she trailed off.

"Somehow, it all makes sense tonight," she said at last.

He nodded. "I feel a connection with Harvey, too."

"He's an amazing man; an amazing father. He came along at the right time, obviously. In many ways."

Richard hugged her. "I really would like to speak with you more often than twice a year," he said.

"Me too. Perhaps I will find more time to visit my family," she said, smiling.

"I would like that," Richard agreed.

-------

Emily found herself sitting heavily on the couch as the evening wound down. The few remaining partiers were out on the patio, still talking animatedly. She had just said her emotional farewell to her father and Audrey, and had retreated to the couch to take a moment to herself.

Emily eyed the case that lay beside her.

Unbelievable, she thought. My dad brought it back from the grave, and Suzanne brought it to life... 

"That's seems like a real nice instrument," Kyle said, catching her glance as he came to sit near her.

Emily smiled at him. "It is."

Kyle looked at her for a moment. "How old were you, when she died?"

"Eleven."

He shook his head sadly.

"I'm sorry. I knew you lost someone, when you came down to the farm back when, you know..."

Emily took his hand, remembering the time they had shared on the bank of Sandra's brook.

That was only three weeks ago ... Seems like a year... 

"She was my best friend, too," she said.

"I know." Kyle suddenly shook off his mood. "Sorry. I don't want to go there tonight. This is your night. Your party."

Emily laughed. "Hey, when we were down at the brook, you said you had something to show me."

He smiled, laughing slightly. "I did?"

Emily nodded.

"It's dumb," he said, waving the idea away with a hand.

"I want to know what it is. Did you bring it?"

Kyle laughed a little harder now. "Yeah, I guess. But..."

"Show me."

He stared off, an amused look on his face. Then he sat up straighter. "Promise you won't laugh?"

Emily just shrugged impishly. "No, I can't promise that."

He considered her for a second, and then stood. "Okay. I guess you jumped off the ledge with me at the lake ... I can be brave too."

He moved to sit at the piano bench.

Emily sat up, her face even more interested now. She wrinkled her brow as he looked at her one last time.

Then he played.

It was very simplistic, but he played a little piano piece for her. After less than a minute, he trailed off.

"That's all I've got so far."

Emily moved to stand next to him, her face a mix of feelings. "What was that?"

Kyle laughed nervously. "I know, I know ... It's lame. Especially after seeing Richard play tonight. But after you visited over Thanksgiving, I started taking some piano lessons."

He played the first few notes of the piece again. "I kind of was fooling around and I liked that little melody, or whatever you call it."

"Did you write that?" Emily asked quietly.

"Yeah, I guess. I don't have very much of it. I thought I could finish it this last month, but, well ... you know."

She nudged Kyle and slid onto the bench next to him.

"Play it again."

Kyle shrugged and played the fragment again.

"What are you going to call it?" she asked, although she thought she knew the answer.

Emily's Song... 

"For Emily, " he said sheepishly.

"It's a pretty song," she murmured.

"You're a pretty gal," he replied.

Emily suddenly turned and kissed him for a moment. She let him go quickly.

"Thanks, Kyle. That was very sweet of you."

Kyle was still flustered from the unexpected kiss. "What was that?"

She smiled. "A kiss?"

He stared at her. "What for?"

"For the song. And for coming out for the recital. I know you have a lot going on, since you're helping Billy's dad out."

"You've given me a lot, Emily. You didn't have to do that."

"You didn't like it?"

He finally smiled a little. "I don't know ... I was too surprised..."

Emily narrowed her eyes. "That sounds like a trick to get me to kiss you again."

"No! I wouldn't do —"

She gave him a second chance to judge.

He seemed to be in another world when she released him. He just sat there speechless.

"What?" Emily asked.

Kyle shook his head. "I don't get you."

"Why?"

"This morning when we were talking, you said Richard was your boyfriend."

Emily nodded, and grinned slightly.

"But ... I've seen her with Richard."

"Her?"

"Sandra."

Emily frowned. "Really?"

Kyle looked around before speaking. "They were hugging, dancing ... Maybe I ... Well, I could have sworn she was about to kiss him."

She widened her eyes at him. "No..."

"Were you kidding about him being your boyfriend?" he asked.

She smiled apologetically at the sudden hope in his voice. "Oh, Kyle ... I, um..."

He nodded and turned back to the keys, fingering a few notes from his piece. "I'm sorry. I'm out of line."

Emily stopped his hand. "Kyle..."

He stopped playing, but didn't look at her.

"I meant the kiss," Emily said. "I liked your piece. No one's ever written me a song. But, I really am with Richard."

Kyle stared for a moment, and then shrugged. "Okay. Maybe I misread Sandra."

She kept her eyes on him. At last, she sighed. "No. You didn't."

He frowned after a moment, his eyes searching the keys as if they spelled out the answers to his sudden questions.

"Not too many people know," Emily said. "But it's true."

He looked at her. "Wow ... When I saw Sandra and Richard hugging, I never thought of that."

She laughed slightly. "Yeah. Why would you?"

Kyle also laughed. "I know, right? But..." He spread his hands, and turned serious. "Hmm ... Wow..."

Emily rubbed his back. "Play my song again."

Kyle considered, and then nodded.

As he placed his hands to the keys, Emily smiled.

Poor guy ... He has something to think about on the ride back home tomorrow. In a different life, perhaps we would have been more than friends... 

-------

"Sandra," the voice called, as she headed down the hallway to the restroom.

She turned, finding William coming along behind her. "Hey, William. You look a little flushed."

"Well, you know, Irina just played me the Largo from the B minor Chopin Sonata." William shook his head. "God damn. God fucking damn."

Sandra raised a brow as she grinned at him. "I'm glad it's just that, and not all the wine. I would have said that you are quite, uh, intoxicated."

"Of course not." William frowned at her, and then waved a dismissive hand. "Arlene's driving anyway."

"So you are drunk!" she exclaimed, widening her smile.

"Nonsense," he countered, finishing his wine glass emphatically.

Then he stepped closer, his expression turning serious. Sandra suddenly wondered if he was as drunk as he had just seemed. His eyes were completely sober.

"Let me tell you about Irina," he said quietly, glancing down the hall. "I've been to many concerts. More than you can guess. If there's someone worth listening to in this world, I've probably heard them. Along with many others, too, who are not as good ... There are great technicians, and great interpreters, and great analysts, great performers. That's fine. But Irina falls into a rare category of artists who has an ability to reach in to your heart..." William put a clawed hand on his chest. " ... and make you feel what they feel. A few minutes of music or dance from them, and you understand why they are alive, and why they are human. They abandon themselves to you, and by doing so, take over your soul. Then you know why you are alive."

Sandra nodded.

William got even closer. "I came out to Wexford for your recital, of course, but also hoping to hear her play a little, from up close."

"And get a photo of her," Sandra reminded him.

William laughed richly. "Very well, the truth is out."

"Well, I'm glad she played for you. I know how much you like her," Sandra said, laughing. "Obsessed, even, like Arlene would say."

"Perhaps. Nothing wrong with that, though..." William's clear-headedness returned. "But hearing her play was no surprise. What was a surprise, however, was to encounter a second person who has these improbable qualities."

Sandra grinned. "Why? You've known Richard for a long time."

"He has learned a great deal out here," William said, suddenly grinning as well.

"He's worked hard."

"I know. And he is really playing well. But you seem to have missed my point! I don't speak of Richard. I love him to death, but he is not there yet. Someday, perhaps..."

William looked her in the eye. "I speak of you."

Sandra laughed. "Me? Now I really know you've had too much wine!"

"You really surprised me, tonight," he said, quietly.

Sandra frowned slightly. "How?"

William nodded slowly as he thought. "You are unbelievably good, Sandra."

"At what?" Sandra asked, giggling slightly.

"No more games right now, dear," William said, his face still stony and serious. "You simply blew me away, to use language from your generation. I know you think I'm fooling with you, but I assure you I am not."

Sandra stared at him, unable to find any words.

"You may or may not know that I've been in touch with Richard since you all left New York, so I heard about some of the things that you went through these last few weeks. But tonight ... you made me feel it. I went through it, too. The despair, and the loss, but also ... the love. Your duet with Suzanne was exceptional. Your trio with Emily and Richard was fascinating. The Wolf: incredible."

Sandra let out a breath. "Thanks, William. I ... I don't know what to say."

"You've said plenty tonight, with your performance." He shook his head, appraising her. "If you can survive the peripherals of the musician's life ... then you will be one of the greats, I think."

Sandra fought off the tightness in her throat. "William..."

He grinned broadly, but his voice wavered for a moment as he said, "I expect to have your picture up in my apartment one day soon. Maybe even above the server."

Sandra suddenly hugged him tightly. "I still think you are fooling," she said quietly, unable to keep the emotion from her voice. "But thank you."

"I'm not fooling," William said, his tone leaving no doubt.

For a few long moments, Sandra held the embrace.

"I knew it," came the voice down the hall. "Find a room, you two!"

Richard had just come into view down the hallway.

"A room? You mean you won't defend her honor?" William asked.

Sandra smiled at Richard as he marched up to them. William pretended to look innocent. Richard grabbed William's lapel, frowned at him, and then laughed as he released him.

"You're lucky I need these hands for playing the piano."

William laughed richly. "Good. For a second, I was almost scared!"

Emily appeared from the direction of the living room. "There you are."

"Hey Em." Richard greeted.

"I think it's time to go," Emily said.

Sandra answered with a yawn. "I know. We should find Allison and head out."

"Ah, the fun is over," William said. "You're going to let an old man out-party you, and go to sleep?

Richard shrugged. "Who said anything about sleeping?"

Sandra swatted Richard, as William chuckled.

"Goodnight, you three. I'm going to take a peek out at the garden."

"We'll call you tomorrow so we can get together."

William nodded, and then bowed slightly. "A great concert, and a great evening. Thank you for letting me participate."

Hugs went around, and then William wandered off down the hallway.

The three of them looked at each other for a few moments, and then nodded.

"Yeah, let's go."

-------

It was late when the trio at last found themselves in front of the dorm building. They said goodbye to Allison, with the promise of meeting for dinner the next day.

"Well, it's over at last," Emily said, looking off at the dark conservatory.

"Almost," Richard said.

Sandra turned to him with a laugh. "Building's closed. No chance for an encore."

"No," he agreed. "But I've spent time with everyone except you two tonight, it seems."

"Oh... ?"

"Shall we?"

Richard carded the reader and held the door open for them.

They made their way quietly up to the girls' room. Joey accosted them just as they were about to unlock the door.

"Good evening," he said cheerily.

Emily eyed him suspiciously. "What are you doing on this floor at this hour?"

Joey laughed. "Just making sure all is quiet. Your recital was pretty good, if I may say so."

"You were there?" Richard asked dubiously.

"Yeah. I was."

"Cool," Sandra said.

"No prob. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to bed."

"Sleep well," Emily said.

He turned to her. "Who said anything about sleep?" Then he disappeared into the stairwell.

The trio laughed at his odd remark, and closed the door behind them.

"Looks like he's found someone to hole up with."

"At least he won't be peeping on us," Emily said. She carefully put her two instruments in the corner, and then returned to the rug to stand with Richard and Sandra.

The realization hit them at that moment.

Richard blinked back tears as he pulled them into a hug.

"I am so proud of the two of you," he said. "Proud of the way you played and sang."

"You too, Richard. You were amazing, both alone and with us."

They spent some time in the center of the room, holding each other. Even though the recital was over, their thoughts were still playing together as they silently relived parts of the concert in their heads.

After some time, Sandra pulled back from the hug. "This has been one incredible night," she said, smiling. "There's only one more thing I want to do."

"I thought you were tired?"

"No, I have a little more energy," she said, turning around.

Richard helped unzip her dress. He helped Emily with the same, and in short order they had removed their performance clothing. Pinned hair was let loose, and Richard suddenly found himself still tuxedoed, with two willing and naked women before him.

"You're a bit overdressed," Emily observed.

Richard shrugged. "I was busy helping you."

They ran hands over him.

"You look great. But the tux will have to go," Sandra said, untying the bow.

The undressing turned into a caressing and teasing session. They giggled in mock surprise as his body was revealed.

"You don't look very tired, either," Sandra said, working on his pants.

Richard hummed in pleasure as she left his trousers around his knees and turned her attention on him.

"Hmmmm..." Sandra hummed back, imitating him and sending a wave of pleasure through his middle.

Richard laughed. "Still wanting to sing?"

Sandra hummed some more, until she found a note that resonated.

"Oh ... That's right in tune!" he joked.

Sandra smacked his butt and scrunched her brow up at him.

Emily had finished removing his shirt, and now joined Sandra on the rug.

"My turn," she announced.

Emily took over, as Sandra slid up along Richard's body to kiss him.

"Mm."

"You can talk now," Richard reminded her, grinning.

She just laughed.

"Damn, Em, that feels good," Richard said, between kisses with Sandra.

Emily continued enthusiastically for a while, until Richard at last pulled back with a groan.

"Hey," Emily said, moving towards him.

"I'm on the edge, Em."

"I don't care." She stroked him and then put her mouth around him again.

"But ... Oh, god. That's it, Em. It's now or never."

Emily didn't stop.

This is a rare moment... 

Then he let go. Emily let out a surprised noise from her throat as Richard filled her mouth.

At last she pushed him away slightly, and Richard's last spurts landed on her body. She wiped at her mouth as she took a moment to swallow. Then she started laughing.

"Should have waited until round two," she gasped.

"Sorry. It's been a while, I guess..."

Sandra looked on in amusement. "That was really hot, Em. I don't know why, but that made me tingle."

Emily chuckled as she moved to clean herself up.

"How do you want to do it?" Sandra asked Richard.

"I need a moment," he answered, sitting on the bed. The moment with Emily had been a surprise, and had suddenly made him dizzy.

"You're still up, though," Sandra observed.

Sandra crawled onto the bed, wiggling her bottom at him.

Richard eyed her for a moment, and then shook his head at Emily. "She thinks she can get me to..."

He caught sight of Sandra's fingers. Emily laughed as Richard abruptly stood and stepped over to Sandra.

"I think ... you were about ... to give your ... willpower speech," Sandra said, between thrusts.

Richard spanked her this time. "Oh, I won that game over the winter."

"Whatever. Just go harder, please?"

Richard obliged. Emily came to stand behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest. Then she lowered them, and giggled as she gripped Sandra's hips and pulled her back hard against Richard.

Richard looked at Emily's small hands as they held onto Sandra. How I love them both... 

With the added leverage from Emily's grip, they slowly drove Sandra over the brink. Murmuring between heavy breaths, Sandra tightened her fists on the sheet.

"Oh ... I've missed this," Sandra breathed, her body still taut.

She pushed herself upright, and Richard pulled her back tightly against his chest, kissing her neck and shoulders as he slowed. Emily had her arms wrapped around them both.

The climax came and Sandra turned her head to kiss Richard. She moaned when Emily also moved around to kiss them both.

"Oh ... Yes..." Sandra's mouth grew distracted as she focused on feelings that were elsewhere inside of her.

After the peak had receded, she fell forwards to the bed and rolled to her side. She murmured as Richard planted a last gentle kiss on her lips.

"That was nice," he said.

"Yeah," she agreed. "I'm still vibrating inside."

Richard smiled.

"Did you come again?" Emily asked him as he turned to her.

"No."

Emily kissed him deeply. "I'm getting tired. Can we just go slow?"

"Of course, Em."

Emily turned out the lights, leaving the dim corner lamp on. She pushed Richard down onto her bed, and then crawled over him. With minimal fuss, she soon pressed herself down against him, filling herself.

"Ah, that's just right," she said, moving slowly on top of him.

Richard smiled up at her as she moved her head in a sensuous way, in time with her small motions. Her hands pressed against his chest, and Richard ran his hands over her waist, enjoying the smooth curve there.

With each minute, Emily grew a little less tired. Richard slowly began to move his hips as well, and the tempo picked up. Soon they were both breathing harder.

"This is going to be good," Emily whispered. "Really. Good."

"Are you close?" he gasped.

"Getting there."

Richard fought to hold on. Emily's face, bordering on the ecstatic, was too much to look at. Those eyelids, and the flush on her cheeks ... The radiance... 

Emily's voice started humming in little spurts. She moved her hands apart so she could lie down against Richard, holding him tight as he worked his hips now.

Richard closed his eyes, trying to postpone the growing climax inside of him. His wisp of control was foiled by Sandra, who unexpectedly added her hand.

His resolve faded, and he kept moving as he passed into his second orgasm of the night. The feelings of ecstasy mounted, and then they became hypersensitive since he didn't slow up his pace.

Just a little longer,  he thought, tightening up as the feelings became overly intense. Come on, Em... 

At last the moment of tension came for her, and Richard felt it transmitted from her body to his. She was desperately still for a few long seconds.

"Oh... !" Emily cried, as the wave crashed at last and she melted on top of him.

Richard slowed at last, feeling squeezed tight and spent.

Emily remained draped over him as Sandra squeezed onto the narrow space to his side.

"I'm exhausted, all of the sudden," Sandra whispered.

"Tell me about it," he answered.

Emily rolled towards the wall, and Richard moved over to allow Sandra a little more room.

"That was a great end to a great night," Emily said slowly, her body unmoving.

"I'm glad to hear it's the end," Richard admitted. "I'm not sure I can do anything else."

Sandra draped a leg lazily over his body in answer.

"Funny, Sandra," Richard said, feeling his thoughts growing fuzzy.

Sandra's leg was still, and her voice was quiet when she spoke. "Thanks, both of you, for everything. I think we did pretty good for a bunch of first-years."

"Mm hm..." Emily murmured.

"I love you both," Sandra said.

Richard vaguely remembered echoing the statement before things faded away.



-------

Chapter 35: Finale - Langsam. Ruhevoll. Empfunden.


The moon was overhead when the first hint of eastern glow touched the horizon. Jupiter was close by, accompanying the hemicycle as it fled from the coming sun.

Closer to the earth, strains of music tentatively began to sound; quiet hours were coming to an end. All around, the Wexford dormitory was stirring. The banal sounds of students trudging to the restroom to bathe were merged with the footfalls of early risers, who were already headed to the conservatory to find a better practice room.

None of this was enough to wake the sleeping trio.

All was peaceful inside their room. Ruddy light filtered in through the glass, and the morning breeze surged and waned like surf, occasionally slipping through the open window to sway the blinds gently.

They slept deeply, like they hadn't slept in months. At first, their dreams had been filled with the music of the performance. It was no longer the imposition it had been during the restless nights leading up to the concert. Now, it was a reward to experience the event again in slumber.

Later in their rest, when the quietest part of the night was reached, the recital was replaced by older memories. They were younger for a while, reliving those moments when concerts had been just dreams themselves: times when the shining lights and the applauding audience had been a goal, rather than a reflection of hard work, and love.

And then, they dreamt of each other, and how the music they made individually was just a part of that which they made together.

As the trio slept, and their minds found tranquility, the threads they had worked so hard to intertwine over the past year were slowly pulled tighter and tighter...

-------

It was close to lunchtime when the first hints of movement came.

Richard's eyes opened slightly. For a moment, he wondered where he was, since his father's voice echoed in his thoughts. It didn't look like his bedroom at home.

He opened his eyes further.

Finally the disorientation vanished, and he looked to either side of him, smiling. Memories of the previous night flooded back into his thoughts, as he watched his peaceful lovers continue to sleep.

This is my life... 

Happiness welled up inside of him.

He felt like he hadn't looked at them in a very long while. He took his time, gazing at every detail of their faces. The curve of Emily's eyelashes, the smoothness of Sandra's cheek ... Sandra's beautiful hair, and Emily's cute nose...

At last he couldn't resist, and he touched Emily's cheek with his fingers. Her eyes fluttered open. For a moment, she just looked at him, her face expressionless. Then she softened into a smile, as she too realized where she was. Richard kissed her on the tip of the nose.

He turned to Sandra, and also caressed her face. Emily laughed as Sandra let out a slight murmur of protest. She was not so easily roused.

"Rise and shine, love," Richard said.

Sandra remained still for a moment, and then sighed deeply. As she woke up, she found Emily and Richard smiling at her.

"Let's just stay in bed all day..." she said dreamily as her eyes closed again.

Richard laughed gently, kissing her cheek.

"You have German in a half hour," he said.

Sandra's eyes popped open, and her content look turned into a frown. "If it's really seven-thirty, I'm going to — " Then she saw the impish grins, and she let out a disapproving breath.

"I'm hungry," Emily said, stretching her body against Richard's.

"Let's call room service," Sandra answered.

Richard laughed. "We should have gone back to the Concorde for the night, then."

Sandra murmured in agreement. "Yeah. Why didn't we? That was the life. Big bed, food and drink in the room, dancing ... Lots of yummy sex..."

Sandra grinned and turned to stretch, and promptly fell off the edge of the bed with a surprised cry. Richard and Emily couldn't help but start laughing.

"Ow! How come I'm always on the outside?" she wailed, as she appeared in view again. Richard held out a hand, and Sandra swatted it away. After trying to hold a stern look for a few moments, she started laughing as well.

"Are you all right?" Richard asked, when she finally got to her feet.

"Oh, I'm fine ... Okay, let's get up. I guess I am hungry. Whoa, it's almost noon."

Sandra stretched luxuriously, and Richard took in the sight of her body. It was intoxicating. She went to the mirror and tried to get rid of some crazy hair.

"Come back to bed," he said gently.

"Yeah," Emily agreed.

Sandra looked at them suspiciously. "What about breakfast?" She glanced at the clock. "Or lunch..."

"We can eat food later."

Sandra came closer. "I'm not lying on the outside again."

Richard shook his head and moved to the edge. "Nah, you get in between us this time."

She grinned as she slid her body over Richard's. "Now I really wish we had room service..."

-------

Putting clothes on to go to the cafeteria was as unappealing as the grub they would have to eat there, so Emily dug through her closet with hope. She found some soup and dry rice, left over from a less busy month when they still had time to make a meal in the room. Emily held it out to Richard and Sandra, and they nodded hungrily from the bed. She fired up the steamer and water heater, and after some time had a lunch of sorts prepared.

"Rather anticlimactic, I know," she said, as she passed out spoons.

They greedily ate the meal, nonetheless.

"Still better than going to Crapler," Richard announced, after he had inhaled the food.

The girls agreed. It was still too early to venture into the world.

The phone rang, intruding on the end of their lunch.

"It's your dad, Richard," Sandra said immediately. Even though Richard had managed to lessen Vittorio's phone calls to only two or three per week over the course of the year, the girls still occasionally teased him about it.

"Probably wants to know what time we're eating dinner," Richard said.

Emily answered. "Hello... ? Hey, William. You're up early."

She laughed. "I'm not going to comment on that. Here, talk to Richard. I'm still eating."

Richard took the phone. "What's up?"

"What time do you want to get together?" William asked without preamble.

"I think we said dinner would be around six."

"I wasn't talking about dinner! Did you want to talk about the Etudes this afternoon?"

"Um. We can," he said slowly. He glanced at the girls. Their state of undress made him pause. "Or tomorrow... ?"

"It's now or never. I'm taking Arlene to Baltimore, and we're going to get on the road tomorrow morning."

"What's with that? I thought you were here until this weekend."

"A little getaway. Clark invited us to come observe the Mahler Three rehearsals."

Richard laughed. "I suppose you got a photo from him, too..."

"Not yet. We'll spend a few days there. Maybe we'll see something at the Kennedy Center on Friday night. Arlene has to get back; otherwise we'd stay for the actual concert ... But that's over a week away."

"Ditched!"

"Sorry," William said, laughing.

"Nah, don't be. I'd go too, if I could. Let's meet at three, then, in the lobby."

"Excellent. We'll see you then."

Richard hung up. "William and Arlene are going to go to Baltimore and hang out with your dad, Em."

Emily looked at him. "Really?"

"He invited them to observe a rehearsal or two."

Emily smiled. "That would be good reason to go. Wish I could see that concert."

Richard nodded at her. "Go for it."

"It's the weekend after this one. If you haven't noticed, the semester is still going."

"So? Just go for one night." Sandra said.

Emily considered. "I don't know. Juries and finals are coming up."

Richard dismissed that with a wave of his hand. "You're not really worried about that, are you?"

Emily shrugged. "No, I guess not. Hmm ... I'll think about it."

"You could even surprise him. Just show up at the concert, unannounced..."

"It's just that I haven't seen him conduct in ... many years."

"Even more reason to go, Em. Especially now."

Emily stared off, her mind elsewhere.

After a brief cleanup, they retreated to the comfort of the bed again.

"I realized something at the party," Sandra said, after they spent some time just relaxing.

"What's that?"

"I don't know what I want, with Suzanne."

"What do you mean?"

"I love her ... But last night I realized that besides kissing her, it can't go any further, in that way. Not right now, anyway. I don't know why, but it felt like I'd have to force it to happen."

"Hmm..." Richard murmured.

"What?"

"I kind of thought the same about Viktoriya, when we went to the garden. I couldn't see anything happening either."

"I thought you kissed her, though?" Emily asked.

Richard nodded. "Yes, I did. But beyond that ... Maybe it's just the way we three came together so strongly, or maybe it's just too hard to bring someone else into our relationship right now. Even she knew, last night. I feel a spark with her, but it's not the right time..."

"I know," Emily said. "It's probably because we haven't all spent enough time with her, or with Suzanne. But also, there's something right about the three of us."

"So you feel the same too, Em?" Sandra asked her.

"Yeah. Ever since the thing with Joel, I've known. Like, I find Kyle to be an interesting guy, and it's sweet the way he treats me, but it's not something that I would go after. It's weird, because we understand each other, especially after what happened with Billy. It's one of those things I can't really explain. It's probably how you feel when you play music with Suzanne, Sandra. Or how you share the piano experiences with Arlene and William. Still, I keep realizing that the best thing I have is right here, next to me."

"Yeah," Sandra agreed. "That's true."

Richard sighed. "I guess our connections really run on so many levels. It's ... I don't know ... kind of sad that we only live one life. How many interesting relationships and events have we missed? But then again, I wouldn't trade us for anything, either."

Sandra squeezed his hand.

Emily said, "But what if it does feel right, sometime later?"

"Then it will be," Richard said. "It will probably take just the right person, though. I don't know, maybe it is Suzanne. I liked playing with her on the recital, and she's really fun ... But I don't know her that well. Maybe that will change that this month."

"I'm sure it will," Emily said quietly.

"What's with you and Viktoriya, then?" Sandra asked.

"She's going to be in Hawaii for a week, and then she'll be back in New York. I'll get to see her when I go back for the summer, but it'll be as friends. That's really what I want, anyway."

"Yeah right," Emily said, elbowing him.

Richard just chuckled at the dig. "Not everything can be, that could have been."

Sandra sniggered. "Deep thoughts, by Richard..."

"All right, sounds like we've reached the end of serious conversation," he said, tickling them.

There were a few shrieks, and a feeble attempt at tickling back, but they soon fell quiet again with comfortable sighs.

"I does kind of feel like the semester is over," Richard said after some time.

Emily snorted. "That's bad thinking, Richard!"

"I know," he said, grinning. "But I already missed all my classes today ... Are you going to class?" he asked Sandra.

"I think I will, just to see if Dobra is back." Sandra glanced at the clock. "Oh. Guess I should get moving, then."

Sandra started to rise.

"Wait," Emily said.

"What?"

"One more kiss," she said, pulling her close.

Richard smiled as he watched their lips touch and part.

"I'll walk over with you, since I'm meeting William and Arlene," he said.

"I'm going to take a nap," Emily said, not moving to get up after they vacated the bed.

"Lazy shit..." Sandra whispered, laughing.

"Hey, I was the one who slaved in the kitchen while you two chilled!"

-------

Everything in the conservatory was the same as it had been before the recital. The same students chatted and went about their business. The practice rooms were as busy as ever. Classes went on as usual...

Sandra took her customary seat in class.

The recital really is over... 

The thought didn't dampen the elation she still felt, though.

At three minutes before the hour, Ms. Connelly arrived. Sandra felt a flash of disappointment. Maybe he's not back... 

The class proceeded as always. Sandra was distracted as she watched her fellow classmates work on dictations. She pretended to write out the examples, but her mind was really elsewhere. Dobra's appearance at the recital now seemed like a dream.

But I did see him. Maybe he did sneak in just for the recital.

Ms. Connelly called on her close to the end of class. Sandra didn't register her voice until the second attempt.

"Come on Sandra," she said sweetly. "Just one more example, then you'll be rid of me."

As she went to the board, Sandra looked at her quizzically, wondering what she meant. Before she could worry about it, Ms. Connelly played the harmonic dictation example. Absentmindedly, Sandra wrote it out, starting before Ms. Connelly had even finished.

Rid of her? He's back then, or what?

She didn't even remember putting the chalk in the tray.

"Very nice," Ms. Connelly said.

Sandra looked up at her work, pulled back into the classroom again. Then she went back to her seat.

When the end of class approached, Ms. Connelly addressed the class, with her usual good natured smile.

"Today is the last day you will have me. You may or may not have heard that Dr. Dobra is returning from his leave of absence."

There were a few murmurs, and a few groans. Connelly was definitely more lenient than Dobra was.

Sandra felt a smile spread across her face as the news was announced.

"He will continue from here, tomorrow. I still have my office open to you, should you wish assistance outside of class, naturally. That's all, then. Have a great day!"

Sandra immediately grabbed her things and ran out of the classroom.

-------

Richard had taken Arlene and William down to the lower level of the building, where the practice rooms were located, and they were now making a second circuit through the hallways in search of a free piano.

One of the doors ahead of them opened up, and Richard didn't even react.

"There!" Arlene said, hurrying.

"No piano," Richard replied.

"Oh."

"These rooms are so small," William said, peering into the vacant room. "Even without a piano."

As they continued on, the door closed behind them as a viola player hurried in.

"There are a few large rooms for piano majors. They're always taken by the same five or six girls, though. The piano mafia."

William frowned. "Piano mafia? Interesting! Show me."

Richard led them down to the piano rooms. "Of course, now that I said that, I'm sure the rooms will be open."

Arlene laughed. "Hopefully."

They were occupied, however, as always. Richard peered in through the small window, and then stepped aside. "See? There's her friend, sitting in the room, waiting to take over. There's no way to get in until close to closing time. Then you get a half hour, at best."

"How early do they get here?"

"I don't know," Richard admitted, grinning sheepishly. "Before I get up, for sure."

William looked through the glass, and watched the pianist as she repeated a passage over and over again.

"That's a tricky section," he murmured. "Have you heard them play anything? Do you know them?"

Richard shook his head. "No."

William murmured. The music stopped for a second, and he suddenly grabbed the door handle and opened the door.

The two faces inside looked at him questioningly.

"Hello," William announced, nodding at them seriously. "William P. Landman, visiting pianist from New York. Uh, I think I have this room scheduled for a lesson now."

The two girls glanced at each other, neither finding an answer in the other's questioning look.

"Um, okay..." one said tentatively. "Are you sure it's in here, though?"

"This is room ... uh, 16F, right?" William asked.

The girls nodded.

"That's what they told me," he said jovially. "Well, it's three o'clock. Sorry to displace you, but the studio I was promised was double booked. You know, end of semester, and what have you ... Say, will you be attending my master class on Friday?"

The girls frowned at him. "Master class?" one asked, dubiously.

"At one o'clock. We will discuss the proper tone for playing Schumann."

The girls vaguely nodded and said something unintelligible. William smiled at them aloofly as they packed up.

Richard stood out in the hallway with Arlene, trying his best to keep a straight face as the two Mafiosi walked out and disappeared down the hall.

Once they were in the room, Richard closed the door and dropped the music onto the piano.

"What the fuck was that?" he blurted out.

William grinned. "We needed a room."

"And when they find out you were bullshitting?"

"They won't. This will look like a lesson. If they ask anyone about room scheduling, no one will know what to tell them, because we obviously didn't schedule the room!"

"And the master class?" Richard reminded him.

William chuckled and waved a hand loftily. "Who cares? We'll be in Baltimore by then."

"Yeah, but I won't!"

William shrugged. "Not my fault you're not coming."

Richard shook his head and sat at the piano, laughing. "You're more of a troublemaker than I ever knew," he said, fingering some chords. "This piano is really nice, though. Maybe you should move out here so you can pull this trick every day."

William laughed. "No, I think I'll pass."

"We'll take over," Arlene said after a moment. "Start our own practice club."

Richard eyed her, and then smiled. "You're right. We could tag team, too."

Arlene grinned. "It'll just be a matter of securing the room before they do."

"We can alternate —"

"All right, enough with the battle plans," William interrupted grandly. "You two can figure that out later. We only have a few hours before we need to get ready for dinner. Richard, play."

Richard laughed. "Okay, okay ... Where do we start?"

"From the beginning. Opus twenty-five, number one. Here, pass us the music."

He did so as William took a seat next to Arlene. Clearing his mind of the fun, he considered the beginning of the Etude for a moment, and then started to play.

-------

Sandra paused, her hand balled into a fist in front of her. Then she rapped on the door. For a moment, she waited, her ear listening for any sound from within.

The door handle suddenly turned, and Dr. Dobra pulled the door open.

Sandra smiled broadly at him. "I wasn't sure if you'd be here."

He shrugged slightly, smiling back at her. "Here I am. Do you want to come in?"

"Sure."

Sandra followed him in, and took a seat. "I saw you last night."

He smiled again. "A great concert. I should go to more of them, but then again, they might not be as good as last night's was. For me, at any rate."

"Ms. Connelly said you'll be in class again tomorrow."

"Yes, it's back to work. It was a nice vacation, but now it's over," Dr. Dobra said enigmatically.

Sandra suddenly got the feeling she should not inquire about the details of his return, as much as she wanted to.

"I'm glad your back," she said simply.

"Thank you. Hopefully Anita kept things going in my place?"

"She did."

"Good, good ... I do seem to remember asking you about being a theory major some time ago?"

Sandra smiled apologetically. "Yeah, I know. I'll admit I haven't had a chance to think about it since you asked."

"Understandable," Dobra said, nodding. "Registration for next year is open now. I don't expect a rush of students clamoring to join fifth semester theory, but ... it's still a good idea to think about your classes for next year in case adjustments need to be made to class schedules."

"Okay. I'll let you know soon. I really need to sit down and figure out what I'm doing next year."

"Good. If you don't want to add the major, you can still take the class, naturally. It's up to you to figure out how much you can commit to."

Sandra nodded slowly.

There was a brief moment of silence. She felt like he wanted to talk about his hiatus, but she didn't dare ask. Perhaps he was not allowed to talk to students about it.

"Well, I'm glad you're back," she repeated, rising from her seat. "I'll see you in class tomorrow?"

"Yes, of course."

She went towards the door.

"Sandra, one more thing."

She turned towards him expectantly.

"I know it's not what we've done before, but I'll have to have you take the ear training and sight singing final this semester. I need to ... follow the rules."

Sandra nodded. "Yeah, of course. I don't mind."

"No, I know you don't." Dobra seemed about to say something else about it, and then waved his hand. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Sandra went to the door, and turned back to him once more.

He grinned at her, and Sandra felt some relief as she stepped out of his office.

-------

"Okay, enough, you two," Richard protested dramatically.

William had been demonstrating a different way of phrasing one section, when Arlene had moved to the piano to offer a third approach. Sitting next to each other, they had grown suddenly younger, and soon their hands were starting to tickle things other than the keyboard.

"Sorry," Arlene said primly, returning her hands to the keys. William just chuckled.

"I know we've been here for a while, and these rooms do tend to get to you, but there are windows on the doors," Richard reminded them.

"No wild sex on the piano, dear," William said simply to Arlene.

She backhanded his chest. "William!"

Richard drummed his fingers in mock ennui.

"Is this how your lessons with William go?" he asked her, before thinking. "Actually, forget I asked that," he quickly added, noting William's grin.

"It's your fault," William said.

"My fault?" Richard protested.

"You brought it up at my apartment."

"I..."

Arlene's brow raised questioningly, as Richard hesitated.

"He knows," Richard said to her.

She frowned. "Knows what?"

"That you wanted me to talk to William, when we were there in March."

"I know that!" she said.

"Oh, okay."

"But he still won't tell me about that girl you told me about!" she added, laughing a little.

Richard felt his heart twist up. He had not forgotten about Miss Walker, but he had also put her tragic story out of his immediate thoughts. He wondered how often William had to hear Arlene ask about her, or tease him about it, like Richard had done.

But he's the one keeping it secret... 

Arlene immediately sensed it. William was a master at hiding that pain, even though his was a thousand times greater that of Richard's. But she read it right off of Richard's face.

"What?" she asked quietly, after Richard and William shared a look.

"Sorry," Richard said. He looked at both of them, and Arlene didn't know to whom he meant it.

"No, it's all right," William said softly. He turned to Arlene, and took her hand. "I'll tell you about her on the ride to Baltimore."

"What is it?"

"Now is not the time, or place. Put it out of your mind until tomorrow. It's in the past, and nothing to worry about."

Arlene nodded slowly. "Okay. Will I be ... mad?"

"No," Richard said.

"It only concerns you in that I didn't want to scare you," William said. "Or hurt you."

She nodded again.

William caressed her cheek, and for a moment they looked at each other.

They've sure bonded this year,  Richard thought.

William turned to Richard. "Well ... I suppose we should think about getting ready for dinner."

"Yeah. Do you need to go back to the hotel first?"

"We do," Arlene confirmed.

Richard smiled. "Okay. Thanks for the lesson," he said honestly.

"Not a lesson, so much, but an exchange. I learned, too," William said. "I am envious that you and Arlene will have all next year to discuss the piano without me."

Richard grinned. "Yeah, that will be a good thing," he agreed.

William looked at him with narrowed eyes, but didn't challenge the statement.

As they walked out of the building, William hummed part of an Etude. Richard and Arlene joined in, and an impromptu choral version was born. It quickly disintegrated into laughter when the notes got more chromatic.

"Are you really leaving tomorrow?" Richard asked.

"Yes," William replied. "I can't pass up Emily's dad's offer. Besides, you have plenty of guests to attend to here."

"We'll see you in a month when you come back to New York," Arlene said. "We'll have all summer to hang out."

"Well, most of the summer. I'm probably going back to Italy. Actually, I need to get on that, before it's too late."

"That will be a long time away from your ladies," she said.

Richard laughed. "Not so much. I'm going to take them with me!"

Arlene stared at him wide-eyed. "Really?"

"Yup."

"Oh, they're so lucky! I want to go!"

Richard shrugged. "Have William take you."

William shot him a look. "I'm already taking her to Baltimore!"

"Taking me? I'm the one driving!" Arlene protested.

He considered this. "True," he admitted. "We'll see."

Arlene narrowed her eyes at him. "We'll see what? What's that supposed to mean?"

William shrugged, his face taking on an impish quality. She pressed him for more, but he ignored her questions.

"You are impossible!" Arlene announced, waving a dismissive hand at him. "If you're going to say something like that, and then clam up, then I'm not talking to you."

William turned to Richard. "Let me know when you book your flight," he said.

Richard laughed as Arlene turned back to William, her sudden indifference quickly lost.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she repeated.

William winked at Richard.

"Well, I'm off to the dorm," Richard said, branching off to cross the grass. "See you in an hour!"

William extended his hand in a wave, and Richard quickly left behind a flustered Arlene and grinning William.

-------

When Sandra entered the dorm room, she found Emily sitting at her desk. Her mother's violin case was open before her.

"Wish you played violin instead of horn?" Sandra asked gently.

Emily smiled wistfully at her. "A little. But also not. I never could play any stringed instrument, when I tried a few times. I guess I'm more like my dad in that way."

Sandra nodded. "The horn is your calling."

Emily shrugged. "Yeah..."

She seems down,  Sandra noticed. "How are you doing?"

"I'm all right."

"You must still be overwhelmed by the violin..."

"Yeah. It's good to see it again, but also sad to know my mom won't play it ever again."

Sandra put an arm around her shoulder. "When you think of her, can you hear her playing it?"

"Like she is in the room," Emily agreed quietly. "But no one else can."

"I know," Sandra said, understanding.

Emily looked up at her. "Can you play something on it?"

Sandra took a step back, shaking her head. "No."

"Why?"

"I — I don't know anything that I could play on an instrument like that."

"It doesn't matter what you play, Sandra. It's music. There's no rulebook inside the case."

Sandra eyed the instrument warily as Emily stood up.

Emily undid the bow clasp, picked up the violin and held it out to her.

"Em, no..."

"Please."

Sandra relented after a moment, and reached out a slightly shaking hand. She took the bow. Her other hand hesitated, though.

Who else has played this violin?

Her hand moved closer, and at last she closed her fingers around the neck. For a few seconds, she held it at arm's length. Then she slowly settled the chinrest into place, and took a deep breath.

Emily sat down again, waiting expectantly.

Fragments of music swirled around in her head, none of which she wanted to play. She stood there, unmoving for some time.

"Richard said you played something beautiful the day Billy passed on," Emily said quietly. "I'd like to hear it too..."

Richard heard... ?

Sandra shivered, and then put the bow to the strings.

She was completely unprepared for how the instrument responded.

With a mix of amazement and fear, she played for a few minutes, quietly sounding out the simple melody. After finishing softly, she held the instrument in place, looking at Emily over the purfling.

Emily smiled a little. "That was nice, Sandra. Not so bad, was it?"

Sandra lowered the instrument and reverently handed it back to Emily. "Whoa. That's..."

"What?"

Sandra considered for a moment. "I think one reason I went into singing is because I could never really connect with instruments like I could with my voice. The piano, the violin ... It always was harder to really make music on those than to just sing it, for me ... But that ... It's so different. It's like an extension of me. I can feel the instrument resonating; not just against my chin, but like it is my voice ... I can't imagine how it must feel to someone who can really play it. Like Suzanne."

"Yeah. That was pretty amazing last night," Emily agreed, her thoughts distant as she loosened the bow. "You're welcome to play it, whenever you want."

Sandra sniffed. "Thanks, but don't tempt me. I can't afford to get lost in playing your violin, and I'm pretty sure I would, if I play it any more. The last thing I need right now is more things on my plate!"

"I know. But still, if the mood strikes you, don't hesitate."

Sandra nodded, and hugged Emily as they looked down at the violin. "That's beautiful."

Emily nodded, and then closed the case. It seemed to sweep her melancholy mood away somewhat, and she turned to Sandra with a smile.

"So is he back?"

Sandra nodded. "He is."

"Did you talk to him about the whole thing?"

Sandra shook her head. "I got the feeling I shouldn't ask. Maybe he's too embarrassed, or wants to put things behind him."

"Or he's not allowed to talk about it."

"Maybe. At any rate, he still wants me to be a theory major."

"Are you?"

"I'm still thinking about it."

"What about Mr. Menlos? Didn't he want you to work with him on conducting?"

"Still thinking about that too," Sandra said, laughing. She pointed at the black case. "See! Don't tempt me with that!"

Emily chuckled. "Too late..."

Sandra sighed and sat on her bed. "No, I can control myself. You do have it insured and everything, right?"

"Oh, for sure. My dad gave me a copy of the papers last night. Although, I will be needing to make a change to the policy."

Sandra frowned questioningly at her, but they were distracted by sound of Richard unlocking the door.

"Ah, here comes our love," Emily said, moving to the door to greet him with a big kiss.

"Mmm," he murmured. "That's one way to come home."

Emily smiled warmly. "Home?"

" ... is wherever the two of you are," he added.

Sandra pulled them both into a hug.

"Eloquently put, Richard," Sandra said, imitating William and garnering a laugh from them.

"We need to talk," Richard announced, when they had separated.

"What about?"

"I've been slacking."

"With... ?"

"Figuring out our summer."

The girls turned to him with interest as he continued.

"If we're going to Italy, we need to book flights. Otherwise we'll be out of luck. I hope we're not too late."

"I'm in," Emily said immediately.

Sandra looked at him. "How much is a ticket?"

"Um, usually about seven or eight hundred."

Her face sank. "Oh ... I've been saving my ushering money, but I'm not even close."

Richard smiled. "I still have my money from the editing project, since William ended up treating us to the concerts in New York."

"No, you can't use that. That's your money. You need it for your ticket, anyway."

"I'm going to work with my dad when I get back."

"Richard..."

"I really want you both to come."

Emily came close to them. "I'll help too. My dad doesn't want me to return the money he gave me when he pretended to sell the violin, so I need to use it on something, heh heh. There's enough for hundreds of tickets..."

Sandra looked back and forth between them. "I so want to say yes, but I wouldn't feel right letting you —"

"Oh, just say yes, then!" Emily blurted out.

"Yeah," Richard agreed. "If you really feel the need, you can pay us back later."

Sandra wavered, and then finally nodded her head. Incredulity spread across her face.

"Cool," Richard said, grinning. "I'll let my dad know, and he can get us our tickets when he gets back home. He knows someone in New York who has good rates."

"When would we go?" Sandra asked, her voice quietly excited.

"June. We usually spent a month there. How long could you go for?"

Emily shrugged. "If I bring my horn, I can go for whatever."

"I guess I could do that, too. We'd stay in your family's house, right?"

Richard nodded. "It won't cost any more to stay longer, since there are no hotels to worry about. We might spend a little more on food, but it's not a big deal."

"I'll ask my parents tonight, just to check," Sandra said. "I was just going to be practicing all summer, at home."

"You can do that in Italy," Richard said.

Sandra smiled. "I don't know ... There will be so many distractions."

"Emily and I will lock you in a room while we go out, then."

"No! I'll be good, I promise!" she cried.

Richard laughed. "Well, let me know. My parents already have their tickets."

Sandra took their hands in hers. "This is crazy!"

"What?"

"Going to Italy with you two!"

She started jumping up and down in excitement, like a child.

Richard and Emily laughed, and even joined in.

-------

Over the course of the week that followed the concert, things returned to normal for the trio. The immediate high of the recital turned into a rosy memory, and one by one those who had traveled to Wexford for the event went back to their homes. Kyle stayed an extra day, unwilling to leave Emily so quickly. Sandra's and Richard's parents stayed through to the end of the week, but eventually work demanded that they leave as well. Allison was last to go, and the night before she left, Suzanne invited her and the trio over for dinner.

Sandra found herself cooking with Suzanne in the kitchen again, much like she had some weeks ago when the world had been upside down. Despite chatting with Suzanne a few times in the hallways, Sandra felt like she hadn't spent any time with her since the recital. The semester would be over in four weeks, and then Suzanne would be gone.

But with family here, and Suzanne getting ready for the last orchestra concert, I should have expected not to see her all that much.

Allison had yet to arrive, having picked up Emily and Richard earlier in the afternoon for a last minute tour of the lab she was working in. Sandra had been interested, but had also promised Suzanne she would come help with the meal.

"So, how does it feel to be done?" Suzanne asked.

"I'm hardly done," Sandra replied, looking at her quizzically. "Finals, juries? Don't you have that when you are a senior?"

Suzanne laughed. "Sure, but it's not a big deal. Juries are just a formality, if you are doing well."

"I guess I'm doing well."

"Oh, you're doing well."

"And you?" Sandra asked. "Are you ready?"

"I think so. I kind of wish I got picked for an earlier orchestra concert, because then I'd really be finished, but so it goes."

"It's a honor, though, to be the soloist on the last concert of the year."

"Yeah, I know. I'm also ready to move on though," Suzanne said openly. "I've been playing this concerto all semester, and I hate to say it, but I'm getting a little burnt out on it. I've taken it basically as far as I can go, and now I'm just sitting on it."

"I know what you mean. I felt that way for a while with the songs I sang on the recital. A month ago, I was getting to that point. Then all that stuff happened, and it ended up breathing new life into them."

Suzanne chuckled. "Yeah ... That's what I need, new life."

"Well, part of it was meeting you. The reason I put the Strauss back on the recital was because of you. That's what was missing, even though I didn't know it."

Suzanne paused from cutting up the eggplant and smiled sweetly at her. "Thanks, Sandra. And meeting you has changed my playing too. The only problem is that you won't be conducting next week. I love Gary to death, but I've never felt anything like what I felt with you during the recital, or when you conducted the Schoenberg."

"I'm sure it will be good, though."

"Maybe we can slip something into Gary's water bottle right before the show..."

"Why?"

"So you could take his place!" Suzanne said, biting her lip as she grinned.

Sandra burst out laughing. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! That sounds like a scene from a cheesy movie..."

Suzanne still was grinning. "But it would be cool..."

Sandra gestured wildly. "For who? I don't even know the piece."

"You have five days. Plenty of time!"

"Oh, you're just messing with me!"

Suzanne giggled. "I know. But I also meant what I said. It would be better if you were up there."

Sandra took a deep breath to clear the mirth. "Someday, Suzanne. Someday."

Suzanne nodded, her expression suddenly serious. "I'm going to miss you when I'm in L.A."

"I know. Then again, we might be seeing each other more than we might think."

"Hmm?"

"I don't know. Maybe," Sandra said vaguely. "Never mind."

Suzanne looked at her thoughtfully. "She turns mysterious..."

Sandra started to speak, and then stopped.

"When do you leave for L.A.?" she finally asked.

"I'm leaving a week from Monday. Have a truck rented, and all."

A week from Monday! Nine days?

Sandra looked at her wide-eyed. "Really? That soon? You're — you're not going to walk at graduation?"

"No. I came to Wexford to study with John, and get a good position somewhere. That's done. I don't have any finals, and like I said, juries are a formality. I'm done, after this Thursday. I don't care about the paperwork as much: they'll mail me my diploma, I think."

Sandra nodded sadly. "Wow. Why are you going to an orchestra, instead of doing solo work?"

"I'm a sucker for orchestra, I guess. I love being concertmistress, and I love sitting on stage with a hundred other musicians."

"I can understand that, just a little bit, from Gary's class."

"Yeah ... Besides, I get to do some solo work with the symphony. On the fourth or fifth concert series, I'm playing a concerto with them. It's kind of like my introduction to their audience."

"What are you going to play?"

"Not the Tchaik!" Suzanne said. "They wanted that, since it's a big draw, but I said no. I'm going to do Prokofiev's Second, instead."

"That's so cool, Suzanne. I can't wait to hear how it goes. Are you nervous?"

Suzanne grinned. "Not yet. One show at a time..."

"It's nice to have something like that to look forward too. The three of us were talking about another recital next year, but I'm not sure if we will do one, or not. Rumor has it we're getting a guy in to direct an opera next spring."

"That would be awesome! I'm sure you'll have fun doing that. Plus you have Jeff's concerto to conduct."

"Oh, yeah. I guess he told you?"

"Are you kidding? That's all he talks about!"

Sandra winced. "Well, I've been trying not to think about it at all. It's a little freaky."

"No, it's something to look forward to," Suzanne reminded her.

"True..."

Soon after, there was a knock on the door. When Suzanne opened the door for Allison, Emily and Richard, she let out a low whistle after greeting them.

"Oh, no..."

"What?" Emily asked.

"You had to bring it?"

"I'm carrying it everywhere with me," she explained.

Suzanne nodded, her eyes lingering on the violin case. "I don't mind, really. But ... It's like a drug. A really good drug..."

Emily laughed. "Well, after dinner you can get high for us, then! I'd love to hear you play some more."

Suzanne nodded greedily.

-------

At dinner, Sandra found herself somewhat conflicted. Besides coming to Suzanne's on her own to cook, she had also intended to bring up how she felt about her. But during the food preparation, it never seemed like the right moment.

Allison's boyfriend had given Sandra an out. Maybe Suzanne leaving for L.A. is why I can't say anything... 

But she knew that wasn't true either. The only thing she knew is that the truth was hard to tease out.

"I wish I was here for your concert next week," Allison said to Suzanne. "Is this your first concerto?"

"No," Suzanne said. "I've done a number of them, here and there."

"What's it like, to be up there with the orchestra?"

Suzanne laughed. "It's incredible, really. It's a challenge, playing over everyone else, but most of the conductors I've gotten to work with have kept the orchestra under control. Gary is pretty good about that."

"You should see if your orchestra will let you do a concerto with them," Sandra said to Allison.

Allison shook her head. "I wouldn't be so presumptuous!"

"I'm sure they'd love it. Sounds like you are among the better players in the group."

"What orchestra?" Suzanne asked.

"Oh, just a local orchestra, back where I live. Nothing special."

"I don't know ... I had some really great shows with my local group, when I was growing up."

Allison blushed. "I didn't mean to say they didn't play well. Just that they're not the L.A. Philharmonic, or anything."

Suzanne smiled. "The people in the small orchestras love to play music as much as those in the biggest. And they really get energized if someone better than average participates."

Allison looked at Suzanne thoughtfully. "I never thought about it that way."

"You should ask about doing a concerto," Suzanne urged.

She laughed. "I'd be scared, for sure. I can hide in the orchestra without too much trouble, but stand out front?"

"My first few times, with the regional orchestra back where I grew up, I was pretty freaked out. But once I got over that, it's been great. It made playing in the group so much better."

"Suzanne's playing a concerto with her new orchestra in the fall," Sandra said.

"Sweet," Richard said. "Are you excited about L.A.?"

"Oh yeah," Suzanne answered brightly. "I can't wait ... Although, I will miss this place."

-------

After dessert, Suzanne seemed to be on pins and needles. Emily grinned when Suzanne shot up out of her chair at Emily's suggestion that she play some music. After admiring the instrument for some time, she tuned up and stood in the middle of the living room, facing the window. The four guests migrated to the comfort of the couches.

"Oh, it's not a concert," Suzanne said dismissively.

"Why not?" Richard said, stretching out next to Emily.

Suzanne looked at the expectant faces. "Well ... I hope you don't mind hearing some more Bach."

No one protested.

Suzanne started with a Gigue, a lively dance tune from the second Partita.

Although the complete surprise she had felt at Irina's party had dissipated somewhat, the awe had not. The instrument seemed to be even more sensitive tonight, perhaps from being played a little after its long slumber.

Suzanne took the repeats in the music, not wishing to stop exploring the phrasing she could create. The quietest playing was so smooth, and yet when she urged the bow to bite, the instrument bit back.

When the movement ended, the others clapped for a moment. Emily had a light in her eyes, and she was smiling warmly.

"Thanks," Suzanne said, somewhat shyly. Then she took a deep breath. "I guess I'm warmed up now, so I'm going to try the next movement."

The real test... 

Richard sat up straight as Suzanne drew out the slow melody which began the Chaconne. A long time ago, his piano teacher had assigned him to learn the Brahms piano transcription of the piece. Initially it was an exercise for his left hand, but he grew to like the music as well. Despite that, he had never sought out the original version on a recording, and now he found himself wondering why not.

He liked the piece on the piano, but it was sublime on the violin. The three and four voices could be drawn out and made to grow, unlike on his own instrument, where sound diminished once a key was struck.

Suzanne played passionately through the first section, her bow attacking the strings, and at times even bordering on being violent. The violin took the punishment, and never grew shrill.

More and more he was drawn into the music, as it moved through variations of introspection and intensity. Suzanne was beginning to flush as she played, and clearly was caught up in the moment.

Richard didn't expect to see her working so hard, but then again, he realized he had really only seen her play the Strauss with Sandra and him, and the Bach at Irina's house. While the violin part on the recital piece was beautiful and emotional, it presented few technical challenges.

Nothing like the Chaconne ... And at Irina's, she was probably holding back.

She didn't hold back now. She reached a section of arpeggios which started somewhat quietly but quickly grew in power. The violin sang even fuller as Suzanne accented the melody on the lowest string. Richard couldn't imagine things getting any more intense, and she was not even halfway through the fifteen minute long piece.

Suddenly, she stopped abruptly. As her bow flew off the strings, the violin made its first unpleasant sound, perhaps in protest at having been cut off at such a climactic moment.

Suzanne was staring at the instrument as it moved up and down, in time with her heaving chest. Everyone waited silently.

"Holy shit," she breathed.

"Keep going," Sandra whispered.

"It's too overwhelming. I can't play on this instrument like I'm used to. It just explodes!" She rubbed her arm for a second.

"Keep going..."

Suzanne's eyes narrowed and she slowly turned her head towards Sandra. They shared a look, and Sandra smiled slightly.

Suzanne took a slower breath, and then reset herself. She returned to the beginning of the arpeggios, trying the section again.

This time, she controlled the buildup with better pacing, but stopped again in the same place.

She lowered the instrument from her chin. "I can't play it. I'm not used to getting such a response from a violin, and it keeps getting ahead of me. Sorry."

Emily frowned slightly. "Is there something wrong with the setup?"

Suzanne shook her head. "It's not the violin. It's me. I can adjust to it, but not on that piece. Not on the Chaconne."

Suzanne looked at the violin reverently.

"Give me a few hours, maybe..." she added, chuckling at the idea. She held the instrument out to Emily. "Like I said, it's a drug. Incredible..."

Emily stood and moved closer to Suzanne. She didn't take the violin from her hands, but looked her in the eyes.

"I know you are playing the Tchaik concerto in a few days, so if it's too close, I understand."

Suzanne was looking at her, not understanding the relevance of the statement.

Emily took a deep breath, and then smiled. "I would love it if you played my mother's violin."

Suzanne seemed to lose her balance for a moment as she swayed, her face unbelieving.

"What?" she whispered. "Play it ... this Thursday?"

"Well, I know you just said that you're not used to it, but —"

Suzanne was breathing heavily as a wondrous smile spread across her face. "No, I just meant tonight. I can't play that piece tonight, without getting to know the violin better. It's too hard. But the Tchaik ... in five days ... I don't know."

"New life," Sandra said quietly.

Suzanne turned to her, again sharing a look for a moment.

"I — I can try. But I'd have to practice on it."

"I'll leave it here with you," Emily said.

Suzanne's face was visibly moved.

"Are you sure, Emily?" she asked after some time. "I know what this violin means to you."

"I'd love to hear you play it next week."

Suzanne suddenly felt her throat tighten as she pulled Emily into a hug.

Am I dreaming again?

She stepped back, and looked at Emily carefully, shaking her head. "I must be crazy, thinking about switching to a new instrument this close ... But, it feels so right to play. I just need a few days to get used to its response ... I have to admit I even have been having daydreams about playing it. But I never thought something like this would happen."

"You are the perfect match for it," Emily said simply.

"I can't believe this. I am so ... honored," Suzanne said quietly. "I'm going to try. And if I do, I hope I can live up to it."

"You will," Emily said.

-------

The audience hushed expectantly as orchestra finished tuning. Richard sat between Sandra and Emily in the center of the fourth row, seats they had secured through Sandra's ushering connections.

The side door opened, and Suzanne walked across the front of the stage to rousing applause from the packed house.

Her reputation precedes her,  Richard thought. He was somewhat amazed at the response she received, having not yet played a note.

What's going to happen at the end?

Once he got the nod of readiness from Suzanne, Mr. Menlos turned to the orchestra. With careful control, he started the concerto. The strings responded to his beat and played the simple theme that set the stage for the coming half-hour. With expected Russian flair, Tchaikovsky quickly moved the music to the more dramatic, and soon the cadence led into Suzanne's first phrase.

Richard squeezed Emily's hand as the first low notes of the violin filled the hall. Twenty-five feet away on stage, Suzanne closed her eyes as the phrase arched up to its high note, and then settled back down.

Wow ... This is going to be good.

Barely a minute into the piece, the many hundreds in the audience were captivated. The instrument, in Suzanne's capable hands, spoke immediately to everyone present.

Richard looked over at Emily as the main theme of the first movement began. She was spellbound. She didn't even appear to notice Richard turning to her.

Maybe she's imagining her mother there... 

You are the perfect match for it,  Emily had said of Suzanne.

Suzanne was playing like she was possessed. She had no trouble penetrating through the accompaniment of the orchestra behind her, so full was the sound of the instrument.

The perfect match ... How true,  Richard thought, as he listened.

The first movement cadenza was a work of art. The incredibly sweet tone of the violin at times sounded like a human voice. Richard felt like he was floating as the final trill led to the return of the orchestra.

No one could stop their hands from applauding as the first movement came to a close. The house erupted before Mr. Menlos had even cut the orchestra off. Richard felt a huge surge of emotion, and he wondered what Suzanne had to be feeling as she looked out into the packed hall.

She acknowledged with a slight nod, and then turned to Mr. Menlos. The audience quickly quieted. Even though it would be unheard of for him to start the slow movement during the remaining applause, they crowd dared not miss a note, just in case.

Again the orchestra provided a brief introduction to the thematic elements of the movement, before Suzanne came in.

It seemed as if even the quietest sounds of the instrument could carry to every corner of the hall easily. The slow melody had so much expression that Richard found himself struggling to stay relaxed. His body and face were tight from the emotion.

Mr. Menlos kept the orchestra just beneath Suzanne in volume, following her movements as she shaped the violin lines.

Eventually the sad song came to an end, and the orchestra left off with a final commentary before launching into the dramatic closing movement. The sadness shaken off, Richard sat up straight as Suzanne poured fire through the bow and strings and attacked the short solo that preceded the full statement of the theme.

Damn ... She's amazing... 

At one point, during a particularly energetic run, a small smile passed across Suzanne's lips.

It must be so fun to be able to be up there, playing like that with the orchestra behind you... 

The movement alternated between the exciting and the introspective several times, but even in the quietest moments, there was an underlying energy to the performance which kept everyone's eyes glued to the stage.

What more can she do?

Already Richard felt like he had been pressed in a vise. As the last fast section grew from almost nothing, the simmering energy that had pervaded the movement was suddenly left to grow unchecked by both Suzanne and Mr. Menlos alike.

With a series of impossible double stops, Suzanne pushed the violin harder and harder. It seemed to take delight in this, however, and it never faltered. Richard felt like he was watching two beings play the concerto.

Suzanne reached her limit before the violin did. She looked suddenly like she was on the edge of losing command of her playing. The energy had exploded and the last thirty seconds were a race to see if she could keep up with the intensity she had established. To back down was impossible; it was either finish what she had started, or lose control altogether, like she had during the Chaconne some days previous.

It was all Richard could do not to stand up right then.

Mr. Menlos drove the orchestra on as Suzanne executed the last few ascending scales with determination. Her body arched and bent as she fought to keep playing.

At last, she reached the end. Two last notes from her, and two echoed in the orchestra, and the piece was over.

People were on their feet before the sound of the last chord reached the back half of the hall.

The place sounded like a stadium of a hundred thousand.

Suzanne stood as still as stone for a moment, her face a mixture of relief and amazement. Then she at last lowered the instrument. She immediately found Emily with her eyes, and smiled at her for several long seconds. Emily had her hand over her mouth as she fought off tears.

Suzanne at last acknowledged the rest of the audience. She was called to the stage three times. Despite some calls for one, Suzanne did not play an encore since it was not permitted at Wexford.

When the last bit of applause petered out, Emily sank back down into her chair. Richard and Sandra remained standing, stretching out the tension that the piece had caused.

"Are you all right?" Richard asked Emily.

"Yeah. Wow ... She's incredible."

"I wasn't sure she was going to make it, at the end," Sandra said, her voice touched with relief. "But she hung on."

"Do you two want to stay for the Shostakovich?" Emily asked.

"We don't have to. We can go hang with Suzanne in the green room."

Emily nodded, and stood. "I'm shaking a little."

Richard smiled and offered a hand, and they slowly filed out of the hall with the rest of the audience.

-------

The green room was surprisingly full, considering it was only intermission. The trio waited in the rehearsal room for the crowds to clear. They chatted with Jer over the noise of musicians warming up. He held his bass casually against him, waiting for the stage to be reset for the expanded forces that the second half of the concert required.

"Did you watch that?" Sandra asked him.

"Nah. I was warming up."

"Really? You missed an amazing performance," she chided.

"Sounds like it. People were going ape shit in there. I heard a little of her playing at the first rehearsal, though. I was supposed to play the Tchaik, but I guess Menlos got pissed at me and moved me to the back stand."

"Why?"

"I don't know. The usual, I guess. Goofing off ... That's what he said."

Sandra gave him a disapproving look. "You, goofing off?"

Jer laughed her sarcasm aside. "I know, right?" He glanced at the stage manager, who announced that the stage was prepared.

"All right," Jer said, hefting his bass. "I'm out. Time to fuck with Gary."

"You're going to do that on the concert?" Emily asked.

Jer grinned. "Last one of the year; what can he say?"

With a snigger, Jer fought his way through music stands and instrument cases. "Bass coming through!"

The trio stayed out of the way as the musicians hurried out of the rehearsal space.

"Have you ever seen him in rehearsal?" Emily asked.

Richard and Sandra shook their heads.

"When the music gets exciting, he starts making faces and sometimes he's head banging. It's pretty funny. Mr. Menlos gets mad, because people start laughing."

"Maybe that's how he feels the music," Sandra said, sniggering at the image.

"Yeah, but it's Jer, you know?" Emily said. "I can't look at him when I'm playing, or I mess up because my lips start turning into a smile!"

After following the last of the musicians out into the hallway, the trio entered the green room. The crowd had dissipated significantly, since the Shostakovich was about to start. Suzanne was still surrounded by some dozen admirers, including a few who looked to be related to her.

She caught sight of the trio right away, and escaped the circle of people around her to rush over and give them hugs. She held on especially tightly to Emily.

The three of them congratulated her enthusiastically, and Suzanne at last let out a breath. She appeared to not be able to diminish the smile on her face.

"That was so, so fun... !" she said, laughing. "Come, I want you to say hi to my family."

Suzanne led them back to the other people in the room, and made the introductions.

"Emily's the one who let me borrow her violin for tonight."

Emily nodded shyly as they turned to her with sudden interest.

"That is one fine instrument," Suzanne's father said emphatically. "Do you play?"

"No, I play the horn," Emily replied, laughing slightly. "Never got along with the violin all that well."

"Wow ... How did you come by it, then?"

"It's been in my mother's family for a long time."

Emily showed signs of becoming emotional. Suzanne seemed to detect it, because she deflected the conversation to mention the trio's recital, and how well it had gone.

After a few minutes, the stage manager entered the room, warning everyone of the impending start. Suzanne's family and friends wanted to listen to the second half, so they hurried off to find their seats.

"You're not going to watch?" Suzanne asked the trio, when they didn't depart.

"No," Emily said. "We can hang out with you, if you want."

Suzanne nodded.

"I do want to see if Jer does it, though," Richard said.

"Me too. We can slip into the wing and peek," Sandra offered.

"Who?" Suzanne asked.

"Jer Ascher?" Richard said.

"You know..." Emily imitated holding a bass, and bopped her head around.

Suzanne started laughing. "Oh, yeah! That guy is funny as hell."

"You want to go watch now?" Richard asked.

"Wait until later," Emily suggested, "when things get rocking."

The four of them sat down. Suzanne seemed to relax for the first time since the concert had ended.

"People were asking me about the violin," she said to Emily. "They loved how it sounded out there, so loud and full."

Emily nodded. "Good. Sounds like you got pretty comfortable with it."

Suzanne nodded. "It just took a little time playing it to figure out how it would respond." She chuckled wistfully. "Now I have to unlearn it all, going back to my violin."

"No, you don't," Emily said slowly.

"If I play my violin like that, it doesn't react so well," Suzanne explained.

"That's your violin now," Emily said, looking at Suzanne meaningfully.

She appeared not to hear. "When I push it, it kind of reaches this ceiling and starts — What did you say?"

"That's your violin now," Emily repeated.

Suzanne stared at her for a long moment, and then burst out laughing. "Emily, don't tease me! I appreciate you letting me use it, but..." Suzanne trailed off. "What are you talking about?"

"I want to loan it to you, for the long term. Really."

Suzanne slowly descended into disbelief. "Emily, I'm not around for the long term. I'm leaving for L.A. in a few days."

Emily smiled. "And you're taking it with you. Just please carry it on, when you're on the plane, okay?"

"I'm driving a truck," Suzanne said absently. "You're serious?"

Emily nodded, her face hopeful.

Suzanne stood up, her face suddenly in shock. "I can't accept this! I mean ... No!" She laughed uneasily, and then her face turned sympathetic. "Emily. You are too sweet. I — I really love this instrument. I mean, really, really love it. Who wouldn't? But ... But it's yours! And your mother's ... I know what you've been through, and how this is your link with her. So taking it with me would be like ... like taking a part of you!"

Emily smiled and nodded. "I know. And taking a part of my mom, too. When I closed my eyes tonight, she was alive again. I don't want it to sit in my closet. It's been doing that for years, and I really didn't like the idea. I don't play, so the next best thing is to let someone else play it."

Suzanne shook her head. "But, you won't be able to look at it! Or even hear it, if I have it."

Emily smiled. "I'll come to L.A. for some of your concerts."

Suzanne struggled to speak.

"Suzanne, I've been without this violin for years," Emily said quietly. She tapped the side of her head. "I already know how it sounds. I don't want to be the only one, though. I remember my mom in other ways besides looking at her instrument. I don't need to see it, or touch it, to be able to hear her play for me, anymore. I learned that a while ago."

Suzanne was in tears now. "This is too much," she said, her voice overwhelmed.

Emily moved beside her and put her arms around her.

"You were amazing, tonight," she whispered. "I know you never knew my mom, or her playing, but you have a similar style. And playing her violin ... The hairs on my arm were up for the whole thing."

Suzanne looked at Emily with wet eyes. "I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll take it."

"My god ... I can't believe this." She nodded after a moment. "Yes, of course. If you really want this..."

"I do. I really do," Emily said.

-------

Richard punched the code on the control room door lock, and then let Sandra pass through before quietly slipping in and closing the door silently. The dim room was filled with the sound of the orchestra.

Dave glanced up from his chair in front of the mixer, and waved them in from the anteroom.

"Evening, Sandra, Richard. Good concert, huh?" he said.

"Yeah," Richard agreed. "All alone tonight?"

"Are you suggesting I can't handle it?" Dave asked.

Richard shrugged, his face mischievous.

Dave laughed. "Everything sounds good, so Jake just took off. What brings you up here?"

"Just wanted to watch a little," Richard said, as they looked out through the window which opened onto the hall.

"Make yourselves comfortable," Dave said, indicating the chairs.

Sandra sat, but Richard chose to stand behind her, occasionally rubbing her shoulders. The first touch drew a questioning look from her, but after that she didn't challenge the massage.

The slow third movement was just starting, so they enjoyed the music, knowing they'd have to wait to see Jer goof off, if he did at all.

The quiet last chords of the movement reminded Sandra of Verklaerte Nacht. She put herself in Mr. Menlos's place for a minute, imagining taking the orchestra through the symphony. That would be so awesome... 

Her mood was swept away by the start of the finale. The timpani and brass kicked off the raucous movement, and Richard started laughing.

"Look! Heh heh..."

Sandra giggled.

Not only Jer, but a few other bass players next to him were emphasizing the rhythm with their heads.

"He's getting the whole section into it!"

Dave came over to look. "That's not very classical," he said, laughing heartily. "Sweet."

After a few minutes, the energetic march calmed, and Jer's show was over, for the moment.

Richard pulled away from the window, and Sandra stood up.

"Well, that's what we wanted to see," he said to Dave. "We better get back to the green room before this ends. See you, man."

"Later. Do you know that bass player?" Dave asked, as they headed for the door.

"Roommate," Richard explained.

"Ah. It must be interesting living with him."

Sandra laughed. "Oh, Richard wouldn't know."

Dave frowned, and then he also laughed. "Okay then ... Have a good evening, you two!"

On their way back to the green room, Sandra made a face.

"Oops. That kind of came out before I thought about it."

"Nah, Dave's cool. He sees us together all the time. So does everyone, really. They all know what's going on."

Sandra nodded. "I know. My parents even asked."

Richard looked at her. "Really?"

"Yeah. The night before they left, they asked if I was with you."

"And?"

"I said yes."

"Did Emily come up?"

Sandra nodded.

"What did they say?"

"What can they say? I'm not sure they understand, but they weren't too weird about it."

"How much did you tell them?"

"Just that the three of us had a relationship together. I obviously am not going to tell them the details!"

"No, I guess not."

"They like the two of you a lot. My mom really likes you."

"Until she found out I was with Emily, too!"

"No, no ... She thinks you're very caring. She really was moved by how you drove me to see Billy, and helped out that weekend."

"Helped... ? I just sat around in a daze most of the time."

"It was still helpful for you to be there," Sandra said softly.

Richard didn't answer.

Back in the green room, Emily and Suzanne were talking quietly. Muted by the intervening walls, the orchestra was just beginning to enter the final crescendo of the piece.

The four of them listened to the last couple of minutes. The brass held onto a complicated harmony, before the orchestra exploded into the final triumphant chorale. The timpani blasts shook the room, and then with a final loud hit it was over.

"Mmm, that's such an awesome piece," Suzanne said. Then she looked at the trio. "Sure you don't want to come to my place for the party?"

Emily smiled wistfully. "My flight tomorrow is really early."

"We're going to go with her to the airport," Richard said.

Suzanne nodded. "Okay. Will I see you before I leave, Emily?"

"Yeah. I'm just going for the weekend."

"Oh, good. Have fun there."

"I will," Emily said, hope in her voice.

-------

Clark Rathbourne was never overly theatrical on the podium. Unlike some conductors who appeared to generate the music from the air, with their large and at times wild movements, he preferred to keep things on track with accuracy and control.

Most of his work was done in rehearsal. He didn't leave the discernment of emotion and feeling in the music to what the players might see in his eyes or arms during the concert. No, everything was already in place. The performances were preordained, his role being mainly to guide the orchestra, not power it.

Rehearsals for Mahler's longest work had been intense. No detail of the score had been overlooked. With relentless persistence, Clark had extracted every ounce of precision he could from his musicians.

He could, if necessary, remind them of some details during the performance, but for the most part, his tenure at the orchestra was long enough that the players knew how he worked, and how to deliver his vision.

Everything was going as planned, as Clark started the penultimate movement. He could sense the growing charge in the air behind him, as the audience had become captivated by the first hour of music. The boys' choir and bells responded to his pulse. A cautionary hand to the strings kept them from becoming too ebullient too fast.

He was pleased at how the orchestra followed the alto's soaring cadences exactly. He allowed the drama to build up in the central section, before the movement returned to the lighter sounds of the opening.

The choir held its last angelic note until Clark cut them off.

A small smile on his face dissipated quickly, as he turned his thoughts to the last movement. He took a few breaths, allowing the lightness of the fifth movement to clear, making way for the finale.

He turned to the violins, holding his hands out before him. He glanced at their faces, making sure they were ready.

Clark was never distracted by things external to the rounded trapezoid of his stage. Even the rare cell phone or watch beep couldn't pull him out. He never glanced at the people sitting in the box seats above and behind the heads of his violin and cello sections.

Until tonight. Maybe it was the way one of the violinists momentarily moved his bow, causing it to point upwards. Or perhaps it was the small cough...

He did look at those seats tonight, and was stunned immobile by the sight of Emily's face looking back at him.

Emily... ? Emily... ! Here ... to watch me conduct... 

His hands were still held out before him, poised to start the quiet beginning of the finale.

Those in the orchestra wondered what vision he was seeing off in the distance.

-------

Emily shivered as she realized her dad had seen her. She hadn't intended for that to happen, although she knew it was possible when Audrey had shown her to her seat.

"It's the best place to watch him from," she had said, and she was right; from most other seats in the hall, Emily would not be able to see his face.

Now, he stood frozen in surprise. Emily smiled emotionally, acknowledging the connection.

Clark stared for some moments more.

I wonder what he is thinking... 

At last, he lowered his eyes, and his frame expanded visibly in response to his deep breath.

With care, he started the movement. Emily listened as the first phrase drew itself out of the strings.

This, is too fast? She was momentarily surprised; a conversation with William had revealed that he thought Clark had interpreted the final movement at a speed that was quicker than William's liking.

For perhaps a minute, Emily could sense the conflict in the orchestra. Clark held out a restraining hand as the violins seemed to get ahead of him in pace. They reacted, and began to follow his pulse.

He never conducts like this... 

The first five movements had looked easy. Her dad had been somewhat passive and detached, as was his style. Despite his relative distance, though, the music had been impressively wrought. Emily knew how much rehearsal had gone into the piece, and she knew, from her own experience and approach, how that time behind-the-scenes affected the end result.

But now, her dad seemed to be willing each note out of his musicians as if they had never played it before.

Emily sat forward in her chair as the movement unfolded. There was an underlying peace to the music which Emily hadn't expected, especially given William's warning.

Her dad slowly built up the emotional aspect of the piece over ten minutes, and Emily became very much absorbed by it. The first climactic moment filled the hall, and Emily felt her throat tighten a little.

The continuation was more unsteady. The orchestra appeared to lose any further desire to play what was crafted in rehearsal, and follow her dad's lead instead. The next buildup was more urgent. Despite the return to quiet for a few minutes, the emotional elements had been sprung, and now the strings were plaintive in their melody, even seeming tremulous.

The horns arrived with the cascading statement of the theme as the brass grew around them. On the podium, her dad was caught up in the moment, emphatically driving the brass and percussion with stabs of the baton. Emily watched in fascination as the music grew angry. The calm peace had been derailed, and it showed in Clark's face.

With a final stopped horn note, the second climax passed. Emily took a breath, unsure when she had last taken one before that.

Emily was shaken now, as the flutes and violins offered one last pastoral moment, enigmatic as it was. The plucked pulses in the basses and cellos matched everyone's anticipative heartbeats.

Just before her dad cued the beginning of the end, he glanced at Emily. It was so brief, Emily almost missed it. But in that instant, she knew where he was: in that place she had so often wished to visit, and yet didn't let herself. A place of love and reconciliation, surrounded by a glare of grudges and resentment. Her mother had never entered it, but now, she could. With her father, she would...

Emily let the music sweep over her. The orchestra's sound grew and grew, as long phrases began to build upon each other. Melodies and countermelodies intertwined and layered, bringing together everything that had happened in the previous ninety minutes, a small lifetime.

She kept her eyes fixed on her father. The music pushed aside feelings of guilt and shame, and she began to realize she was not so different from him, after all. She had never allowed herself to love, after her mother died. Never allowed herself to be loved...

Then the world had changed at Wexford.

The triumphant theme returned with overwhelming sonority. She held her hands clasped firmly before her, struggling to keep from closing her eyes under the emotion. The brass chorale resonated everything inside her, both as a musician and a human.

As if taking one last breath before letting go, the music drew to a pause. Clark held the orchestra silent for a few seconds, letting the moment grow, even as no one played a note.

The last hopeful buildup was too much. Emily didn't bother wiping the tears away, knowing more would follow. She was shaking now, and her vision was blurred.

With five final blasts by the two timpanists, the final chord was reached. The vibrations shook everyone in the hall, as Clark held onto it. At last, he gave a slight movement with his arms, and the musicians cut off the sound.

The reverberations bounced through the concert hall, were absorbed by the listeners, and then it was over.

Silence.

Complete silence.

-------

Some twenty seconds passed. Clark stood rooted on the podium, his hands still hovering out before him, his lip trembling, and his eyes unseeing. The hall was as silent as it was when it was empty, and yet some twenty-six hundred people were present.

At last, Clark lowered his hands, turned to his left, and looked up. Emily was standing, transfixed, her hands clasped in front of her chin.

His movement at last broke the spell, and the applause came. Thousands were on their feet, making a thunderous noise with their hands and throats.

Clark didn't even hear it.

-------

The day before Suzanne left, Richard, Sandra, and Emily were at her place to help her load up the truck she had rented for her trip west. Mark, the cellist from conducting class was also involved, as was Suzanne's older brother, Charlie, who had flown out to assist her with the driving. He had coincidentally arrived around the same time Emily had returned from Baltimore, and Suzanne was glad to pick them both up from the airport that morning.

The piano took some muscle, but eventually sat in the front end of the truck's cargo area. The loading of boxes and furniture went faster than expected, but it was the last items, those odd shaped things that were put off until the day of moving, that took the longest. The six of them ended up spending the day there and staying for dinner.

At last, her place was essentially emptied. A couple of sleeping bags and pillows, and a box of cleaning supplies were all that remained. While the men worked on loading Suzanne's car on the trailer, the women were busy scrubbing down the house, despite Suzanne's plea for them to relax.

"When you get a chance," Emily said, "send us your concert dates. I really want to come see one or two. Maybe I'll even drag Sandra and Richard along," she added with a grin.

Suzanne smiled. "That would be great."

"We're going to miss you," Sandra said.

Suzanne stopped scouring the stovetop and turned to them. "I will too." She shook her head. "Like I've told Sandra, I really wish I'd met you sooner. All three of you. I really enjoy hanging out, and playing music..."

"We'll see each other," Emily said confidently.

"I know. It won't be enough. And..."

"And what?" Sandra asked.

Suzanne sighed. "Well, I still don't know how I fit in with the three of you. I ... I love being friends. And, well..." She looked at Sandra, and then at Emily. "There have been a few times we've kissed, Sandra and me."

Emily chuckled at her apologetic tone. "I know, Suzanne."

"I didn't know if you did," she said thoughtfully.

"You kissed Sandra when you got offstage at our recital. I was right there."

"Really?" Suzanne asked.

"Yeah, you did. Besides, Sandra already told Richard and me about it, on the night you two met."

"Oh..."

"We share everything," Sandra added.

"Yeah, I know," Suzanne said without thinking.

The other two laughed, and then Suzanne realized the second meaning. She laughed a little as well, and then grew serious again.

"Richard said I would know."

"Know what?" Emily asked.

"Know what was right."

The girls looked at her expectantly.

Suzanne wavered for a moment. "I'm still confused," she blurted out. Then she turned back to the stove top, scrubbing furiously at a burned remnant. "Until I kissed you, I never even thought about kissing another woman. Never. But that day, in the conducting class ... It was such a connection! And it still is. But I see the three of you, and there's so much going on that I've missed. Normally, when I've met guys, it's a fresh start, you know? One on one ... You find out about each other, and then you start from there."

Sandra had moved closer to her. "It can be the same with us."

Suzanne looked up from the stove. "How?"

"We've already been getting to know each other, and we've also started some new things. Look at our music together ... And you're playing Emily's mother's violin ... We have a relationship that's growing."

"But how far does it extend?" Suzanne whispered. She scrubbed again. "I was busy last month because of the concerto, and before that it was your recital ... But also, I was afraid to get together with you three too often."

"Why?" Emily asked, frowning.

"Because, I look at you, and I see such love, and such a cool, different thing going on. And I don't want to get in the way of that. But..."

Sandra and Emily waited for her to continue. "Just say what's on your mind," Sandra said quietly.

Suzanne stared at the burners. "Sometimes ... sometimes I want to be in the middle of it, too ... There, I said it." Suzanne took a ragged breath, and continued to work on the stubborn spot.

"We've thought the same, too," Emily said.

Suzanne looked up. "Really?"

"Yeah," Sandra agreed.

Suzanne shook her head sadly, and then laughed slightly. "Well, this is awkward."

Sandra put down the cleaning bottle and paper towel she was holding, and hugged Suzanne from the side. "No, it's not."

Suzanne held her gloved hands out helplessly. "Yeah it is. I'm leaving tomorrow, and I feel dumb telling you all this now."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I won't see you for a while."

"Things don't have to happen right away," Emily said.

Suzanne shook her head. "They'll never happen. I should have kept quiet."

"Then this would never have happened," Emily said. She turned Suzanne slightly by the arm, and kissed her. Sandra still held on to her tightly, smiling.

Suzanne looked at Emily in surprise.

"That wasn't fair," she said quietly. "But I liked it."

"We're really going to try to come out to L.A. this fall," Emily said. "And who knows what might happen down the road."

Suzanne nodded, somewhat dazed. Outside, happy voices indicated that the guys had been successful in mounting her car on the trailer.

"It's pizza time," her brother Charlie had called out, as they approached.

"I'm really going to miss you," Suzanne said, looking at each of them for a moment.

Sandra added her kiss, and a last hug. "Things will happen, one way or the other. We're going to miss you too."

They pulled apart as the screen door opened with a clatter, and the guys spilled inside, carrying the three pies they had collected from the driver outside.

"Time to eat, ladies," Mark said, spreading the pies out on the counter.

Charlie went to the fridge, distributing the last six pack, and unaware of the mood.

Only Richard stood in the entrance to the kitchen, staring at the three girls with an amused look.

They caught sight of him, giggled, and then took the beers that were offered.

-------

Finals arrived, two weeks after Suzanne had closed the door to her empty place. She stole a kiss from the trio while the truck hid them from her brother, and then she had driven away to her new life. But it held promise.

Juries had been, as Suzanne had said, a formality. The polish from the recital preparations had not dulled at all, and all three of them had performed at their best for the small assembly of teachers from their respective departments.

As expected, finals kept them busy until the end. The music history final was their only real worry. Since they were in the same class, though, study sessions were hardly the tedium that they would have been had they been studying on their own. Whether they actually studied more by doing it together is something they debated, but the rewards were certainly greater.

On the way back from their history final, Sandra pulled a handful of things out of the mailbox. There were fewer recital announcements now, since only three days remained in the semester. Nestled between two programs was a letter.

"From Allison," she announced, as they climbed the steps.

Once in the room, Sandra opened it.

"Read it for us, love," Emily said.

"'Dear Emily, Sandra and Richard. I hope this letter reaches you in time. I just wanted to thank you for everything when I came to visit last month. The recital was especially inspiring. Well done!

"'I don't know when I'll next be in the U.S., since my research at the lab is finished for now. But, I am still looking at the options for next year, after I get my degree in November. This includes some possibilities in the U.S. At any rate, I'm sure we'll see each other again sometime in the next few years.

"'I'm really excited to tell you about the orchestra I've been playing with. I was talking to the harpist, and she used to play professionally. Somehow, you came up, and Suzanne, and how she was going to L.A., and we got to talking about concertos. It turns out I will be playing with her in the spring! We will play the flute and harp concerto by Mozart. It's on October twelfth, and I'm terribly excited, but also completely petrified!'"

"Poor thing," Sandra laughed, before continuing. " 'But it's good for me. My bloke is really supporting this all the way, which is a relief.'"

Richard was grinning. "Hmm, maybe we should plan a trip to Australia," he joked.

The girls chuckled.

"That would go over well with our teachers next semester," Emily said. "Keep reading."

"'Every time I play my flute now, I think of the three of you at the recital, and Suzanne too. I hope her concerto went well, and that your finals are going (or went?) well, too.

"'I know it's impossible to think you'd be able to attend, as much as I'd like that. So, I will try to have the concert recorded, or even filmed. But I don't promise that I'll let you listen (unless it comes out well enough!). We will see.

"'I will be at this address and number until November. Have a good summer, and stay in touch when you can. Love and hugs, Allison.'"

"That is so cool," Emily said.

"Yeah," Sandra agreed, scanning the letter again with a smile. "I'll be thinking of her, for sure."

-------

Irina was staring out the window when the knock came.

"Come," she called out loudly.

"Good morning, Irina."

She turned after a moment. "Good morning, Riccardo."

He frowned in surprise as he sat on the bench, and then started to adjust the height.

Irina chuckled. "Sorry."

"No problem. I can do the bench."

When Richard finished, he looked up and found Irina holding out a CD.

"Oh, cool! They're finished."

"Yes. Dave got some promo copies yesterday. This is for you. Dave has more, if you want some extra."

"Thanks," he said, examining the CD. She had signed it for him.

"Thank you for your help on it," she said.

"Thanks for letting me be a part of it."

She kept his last lesson of the year laid back. They decided on a practice plan for the summer, and set some goals. After playing a few sections of some of his new pieces, Irina called an end to the lesson.

"You have made good progress this year, Richard. Especially this semester."

"I feel like I've learned a lot."

"Yes, you have. Keep on practicing in the summer, as if we have lessons every week. You don't want to lose what you have gained."

Richard nodded. "I will."

"Good."

He fingered the CD case. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you never record the Etudes?"

Irina smiled, and did not answer immediately. "Yes, the Etudes."

The Etudes ... How can I answer you, Richard? How, and not have you discouraged at the end?

She stood and walked to the window. "I was waiting until I could give them my best performance."

Richard frowned. "What do you mean?"

"As you get older, you play the piano differently. You are still young, and may not realize that."

Richard shrugged. "I've changed this year. I know it doesn't stay the same."

Irina nodded. "Yes. But I mean over long periods. Many years ... When I was your age, I thought I knew everything about how to play. Then I learned more and more that I didn't. Each year brought new ideas. Whenever I played the Etudes, after leaving them for a time, I found so many new things in there."

She sighed. "I was waiting for the right time to record them. Waiting until I had them the way I wanted them. But it never happened."

"I thought that the tape of the faculty recital where you played them was pretty amazing."

"Eh," Irina said, smiling at but also dismissing the compliment. "I was out of practice. I just moved here to become faculty, and Nadia was still a baby."

"It must have been hard with two children," Richard acknowledged.

"Nadia, yes," she said carefully. "I had Viktoriya when I was very young. Harvey raised her, so I could become a pianist. But with Nadia, I wanted to raise her too. That is why I came to teach, and stopped performing so much."

Richard nodded, seeming to understand.

"I never played them like I wanted to," Irina continued. "So I never recorded them. Once I started teaching, I practiced less, too."

Richard held up the CD. "But you still are recording and playing some concerts. What about doing the Etudes now?"

Irina turned to him and shook her head. "No. I cannot play them well enough anymore."

"But the pieces on this CD were not easy," he pressed.

"Here is not the problem," Irina said, holding up her hands. Then she moved them to her heart. "Here is."

Richard looked at her as she smiled wistfully.

"I will never perform them again. It would take too much out of me."

He seemed to be sad at her words, so she looked at him with hope.

She walked closer to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It is my students who play the Etudes, now. I can teach them, because I love them."

Richard nodded thoughtfully.

"I will see you in August," she said, giving his shoulder a squeeze before releasing it.

He stood up slowly and shouldered his bag.

"Okay ... Thank you, for everything you've taught me this year."

She nodded. "Of course."

Richard smiled, and then left the studio.

Irina smiled as well, and then looked around the studio. She went over to the piano, fingered a few chords, and then quietly closed the lid.

See you next semester,  she thought.

With a final look around, she picked up a pile of scores under one arm, and let herself out.

-------

Sandra knocked on the door to Dobra's office, and entered when he acknowledged.

"Hello, Sandra."

"Hi, Dr. Dobra."

"Ready for the final?" he asked, his voice heavy with amusement and sarcasm.

Sandra grinned. "Rules are rules," she reminded him.

Dobra sighed. "Yes, indeed. Idiocy ... Let's get it over with, then."

He handed her a paper with five melodies.

"Sing a few of those," he said, forcing patience into his voice.

Sandra did, and Dobra immediately notated in his ledger.

"Okay, melodic dictation."

Dobra gave her the details after Sandra had prepared her staff paper. Once she looked up, he played the melody once. A minute later, he gave the details for the harmonic dictation, and again played the example once.

Sandra passed her paper to him, and Dobra silently looked it over. After scanning it for five seconds, he wrote in his book again, and then placed her sheet in a manila folder.

"That was a waste of five minutes," he said, slapping the folder onto the piano. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

He turned to Sandra and smiled, clearing the mood. "Well, now that the business end of things is concluded, how are you? How did juries go?"

"Great. No problem compared to the recital, in the end."

"I figured as much. And Richard and..." Dobra narrowed his eyes questioningly.

"Emily?"

"Yes, sorry. I've seen too many students today. Did they fare well?"

"Yeah, they did great."

"Good, good. Now, if I recall, a few weeks ago you said you'd have an answer for me?"

Sandra smiled. "I did. And I think I want to add the theory major."

Dobra nodded happily. "Good. That's excellent!"

"So I have to register for the fifth level class, and the seminar?"

"Yes. The seminar will be fun. I am teaching it next semester, and we will spend a good part of the time looking at Rite of Spring. You may wish to get a recording of it and listen over the summer."

Sandra nodded. "I will."

"I believe we have someone coming in next year as a freshman theory major, which is quite rare. So we will probably be five people in the class, unless I can persuade a few others."

"Cool. It's going to be a busy semester. At least I won't have a recital hanging over my head, though!"

"Gary Menlos tells me that you will be studying some conducting with him as well?"

"Yeah. I'm taking the conducting class again next semester, but also some extra lessons with him. I might even get to run part of an orchestra rehearsal, if he feels I'm up for it. Oh, and I guess I'm also conducting a small orchestra for someone's recital, too. Somehow I agreed to that. It sounded like a good idea at the time..." Sandra scrunched up her face.

Dobra shook his head as he smiled. "I'm starting to really dread what your senior year schedule will look like!"

Sandra laughed. "Yes, it could be crazy. I'm just glad there isn't an undergraduate conducting degree. Otherwise I'm sure Mr. Menlos would be trying to get me to do it!"

He laughed richly. "That he would. Ah, well..." He looked at her with pride for a moment. "You'll do great, at all of it."

"Thanks."

"It's been great having you in my class, Sandra. And, of course, I can't thank you enough for, well ... helping me out."

Sandra nodded slowly. Finally an opening... 

"I'm really glad things went your way. But ... What was the story with Dr. Wilcox and Mrs. Warner?"

Dobra considered her for a moment, and then sighed. "He was a student of mine, once. Some things happened ... Things I really should not discuss, even with you, Sandra. Suffice it to say that it was another difficult situation."

"Was the whole thing this semester their doing?" Sandra asked. "Or did they just take advantage of it once it came up?"

Dobra smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Sandra. Things went as they should have. I wish I could say, but my return was conditional on certain arrangements. Like having everyone in the class actually take the final exam, for instance. And," he said seriously, "not discussing the details of the case, past or present."

"Shouldn't people know the truth?"

Dobra laughed. "The truth ... Yes, the truth is ugly. Competition for students between the top conservatories in this country is tough. Really tough. A few superstars coming out of a place can make a school's reputation soar. So the top students are courted. Wexford doesn't have a preparatory division and youth chamber music camps just for the fun of it."

"They're grooming the kids?"

Dobra laughed. "Well, that sounds a bit too much like an assembly line, which is not the truth. The primary goal is to offer opportunities for young people to study music at a high level. But, on the side, any exceptional talent is courted early. Wexford wants them to come here, and the offers are big when they come. A big chunk of donor contributions goes to cover tuition."

"I know some people are here on a full ride."

"Full ride, and more ... But back to the topic: any scandal, especially with a big donor, does not make for a good recruitment tool. So the situation with Joanna and me is much bigger than either of us, when it comes down to it. Luckily, I've been let out of it, relatively unscathed, and for that I am thankful. I'll gladly let the administration figure out the other stuff, as long as they let me get back to doing what I love."

Sandra nodded. "I understand."

"Someday, if the situation is different, I may tell you about Evan Scurly."

Sandra frowned, and he just smiled enigmatically.

Before she could ask anything, Dobra continued, wearing an impish grin Sandra was sure she had never seen on his face. "For now, I'm going to behave. I gave you the final, like a good boy, and I'm also going to say no more about Mrs. Warner."

A knock on the door interrupted them.

"One moment," Dobra called out. He stood, and smiled warmly at Sandra.

"Have a good break," he said.

Sandra smiled. "I will. You too."

"And thank you, for everything," he said, his eyes fixed on hers.

Sandra managed a nod and then left his office.

-------

Despite wishing for the end of the semester to stay away, the trio's last full day together arrived with a warm May morning. After waking up late, making love, and enjoying a leisurely breakfast at Belinda's, they had at last turned to the undesirable task of packing up their belongings.

Richard had amassed a significant amount of his items in their room over the course of nine months. Having filled a box with CDs and books, he took it to his room to give the girls some more space to organize.

He did a double take when he walked in. Jer's side of the room was empty, and the bed was stripped. It made the place feel very unfamiliar, and suddenly larger.

Wistfully, he prepared himself a final espresso. The girls' gift had been one reason he'd survived the semester. He was sad to have to pack it up for the summer, since it would be unneeded at his house.

As he started the machine, he pictured it on the counter of the place they were going to be renting. We'll need stuff for the house ... Dishes, utensils...  The thought was somewhat overwhelming. Then he realized the girls had probably thought of those things months ago...

Richard sat on his bed and was sipping the black elixir, when Jer came in.

"Hey, man. I'm out of here."

Richard placed the cup on his desk and stood up. "Yeah, I figured as much," he said, looking around. "You packed up quick."

"Not sure you can call what I did 'packing, ' but whatever. I'll sort shit out when I get home. Anyway, dude, it's been good, uh, not being your roommate this year."

Richard laughed. "Sorry I wasn't here for you..."

"Nah. I didn't mind." He grinned. "Neither did Jenna."

"Glad I could help."

"What are you doing next year?"

"Coming back?" Richard said sarcastically.

"You're gonna be in the dorm?"

"Oh, no. The girls and I are renting a house down on Highland."

"Nice! That'll be killer."

"Yeah, it'll beat being stuffed into the dorm room on these small beds. What about you?"

"Not sure yet."

"Moving in with Jenna?"

"Thought about it. Don't think my folks would go for it, though."

Richard laughed. "Get a third person to share the house. Then tell them you're all just friends. That's what I did."

Jer shook his head. "Nah. They know her already. They won't fall for that."

"Too bad."

"Yeah. Anyway, my dad's waiting down in the van, so I'm gonna head out."

Richard offered his hand, and Jer gripped it tightly.

"Have a good summer, man," he said.

Richard nodded. "You too."

Jer looked at him for a moment, and then walked towards the door.

"You mind if I take this?" he asked, grabbing the 'Do Not Disturb' sign from the wall.

"Go for it."

"Might need it at my new place next year," Jer said, grinning. Then he was gone.

He's still a trip ... Then again, he probably thinks the same thing of me... 

-------

Sandra was going through her back pack when she pulled out a white envelope from her bag, and looked at it strangely.

"What's that?" Richard asked. Having removed the majority of his things from their room, he was now resting on the bed. His offer to help them pack had been promptly rescinded when Sandra saw how he 'folded' one of her shirts.

"It's a tape that the president's secretary gave me," Sandra said. "A recording of me getting into it with that woman on the board."

"Really?" Emily asked, interested.

"Yeah. Weird ... I forgot all about it."

"I want to hear it!" Emily said, as Sandra tossed it onto the desk.

Sandra turned to her. "Why?"

"I want to hear what you said!"

Sandra shrugged. "But it's a little cassette for those voice recorders. I don't have a player."

"I can get one from the audio room," Richard said.

"Okay, let's go," Emily said, standing immediately.

"Now?"

Emily was already at the door. "We're leaving tomorrow. No time like the present."

Richard shrugged at Sandra and followed Emily out.

Sandra continued to pack, and considered hiding the tape. That was not a time she remembered with fondness, even though things had worked out well in the end.

They were back about five minutes later. Sandra watched as Richard took the microcassette from the envelope.

"What's the big deal?" Sandra asked.

"I always wished I could have been there to see you," Emily said.

"Why?"

"I don't know. I've never heard you get really angry. It might be cute."

Sandra laughed uneasily. "It was freaky, actually. I'm not sure I want to hear it..."

"Okay, it's rewound," Richard said. "Here goes."

He played the tape.

There were a few noises as the machine was manipulated by the person handling it. Then came the steady ambient noise of an empty room, interrupted only by the click of a door closing. They listened to the silence, and then Emily grew impatient.

"Fast forward."

Richard did, and the airy noise turned into a whine as the tape moved quickly.

"It's blank," Sandra said, feeling a sense of relief. She continued organizing her backpack. "She must have erased it by accident."

Then there was a noise and a burst of high-pitched talking.

Richard quickly backed up the tape.

A door opened, and then a voice could be heard.

"Sue, send them in directly when they get here, please."

"That's Dr. Jensen," Sandra said, frowning. "Must have been before I showed up. But..."

There were the sounds of Dr. Jensen moving about the room, settling in his chair, and rustling papers. Richard fast forwarded through a long section of mostly silence.

"Weird ... It's like the tape is just rolling in his office," Sandra said.

Eventually the door could be heard opening again.

"Good morning," came a female voice.

"Ugh, that's her," Sandra said immediately.

"Good morning, Joanna. Allan," said Dr. Jensen politely.

"Allan? What?" Sandra echoed the tape, frowning.

"Who's that?" Emily asked.

"That's Wilcox," she whispered. "But he wasn't there that day..."

"Please, have a seat," Jensen offered. The chairs creaked.

"You said you had some new information today?" Joanna asked.

"Yes. But first, I need to speak with you about what happened yesterday."

"Yesterday?"

"With Ms. d'Arcy," Jensen said.

Sandra, having so far been doing things around the room as she listened, suddenly came over next to Richard. She frowned as she listened closely.

Joanna laughed. "Ah, yes, Ms. d'Arcy. I will be requesting a full review of her efforts here, and recommending disciplinary action. I will not tolerate that insolence at Wexford."

"That will not be necessary," Jensen said simply.

"Hold on, stop," Sandra said. "Stop..."

Richard paused the tape.

He and Emily looked at Sandra.

She was breathing a little hard. "This must have happened the day after. I — I think..."

"What?"

"Somehow, I don't think this meeting was supposed to be recorded."

Sue the secretary... 

She waved Richard on, urgently. Richard gave her a funny look, which she chose to ignore.

He rewound a little and pressed play, and they listened to Mrs. Warner again.

" ... requesting a full review of her efforts here, and recommending disciplinary action. I will not tolerate that insolence at Wexford."

"That will not be necessary," Jensen said simply.

"Not be necessary?"

"Your actions were inappropriate."

"Inappr — Inappropriate!" Joanna stammered. "My actions? Did you not hear how she —"

"I was present," Jensen interrupted. "I heard Sandra giving a statement, and then I watched you interrupt her and make threats. Threats which are not yours to make."

There was a moment of silence. "Carl, have you forgotten who I am?"

"As a member of the board at Wexford, it's not your job to make decisions about the future of particular students."

"That girl is a poor excuse for a musician and student. Did you hear how she talked about my son? I have not heard such disrespect in a very long time. She's desperate, Carl. But you know that, right? Now that her facilitator is absent, she is in a position to fail her theory requirement."

"I actually find that to be extremely unlikely. Wouldn't you agree, Dr. Wilcox? How was her performance on the surprise midterm?"

"Well ... Ms. d'Arcy was ... unable to complete the exam."

"Really? She said she took it, even given the completely unreasonable circumstances."

"She was the one acting unreasonably. I was forced to terminate the exam early."

Sandra made a strangling gesture at the tape machine.

"Do you really wish to argue that Sandra is not up to the level of the class she is in?"

Wilcox did not answer immediately. "I have no reason to believe she can do that level of work. Yesterday, she was unable to write a single note of the dictation I had her do at the board, during class time. And with no history of ear training and sight singing exams in her file..."

Sandra could picture the bastard shrugging arrogantly.

"I suggest we organize an exam, then," Dr. Jensen said immediately. "I can have my secretary find Sandra right now, and we can have an examination right here. You can use my piano. Shall I ring Sue?"

There was a pregnant pause.

"Carl, what does this have to do with anything?" Joanna asked, at last.

"I am very disturbed by the actions of Dr. Wilcox towards what appears to be an exceptional student. Exceptional, from a number of sources."

Richard and Emily looked at Sandra with grins.

"Exceptional! If that is your idea of exceptional, then you have really reached a low point, Carl. She must be removed!"

"Joanna, you do not decide —"

"Perhaps not. But as a member of the panel investigating Dr. Dobra —"

"Ah, well ... We are investigating Dr. Dobra, not Sandra. Furthermore, you are no longer on the panel."

They could almost hear Joanna turning red.

"What did you say?" she finally exclaimed.

"Effective immediately, you and Dr. Wilcox are no longer on the panel."

"This is ridiculous! I was appointed by the board. You cannot remove me!"

"Dr. Wilcox was never really on the panel, since you appointed him yourself with no prior consultation. But I did not remove you. The board did."

"I demand you explain yourself, Carl!" she stammered.

"I called an emergency board meeting this morning and explained the situation," Jensen said calmly.

"What situation?" Joanna asked.

There was the sound of rustling papers.

"There appears to be a serious conflict of interest here," Dr. Jensen said.

"What are you talking about?"

"I have Dr. Wilcox's records from Eastman."

"What? Allan went to UCLA..." Joanna's voice was suddenly weak.

"Yes, but one Evan Scurly went to Eastman for a year."

Evan Scurly! Dobra mentioned him!

The tape was silent for a moment.

"What does this have to do with anything?" Joanna asked again.

"Joanna, please. I've always let you have free rein, even when I disagreed with you. But this ... This is simply unjust. It really makes me question all your actions as a board member over the years."

"The man is a predator! He should have been fired long ago!"

"The investigation continues, I assure you. But we promised an impartial panel, and we did not deliver ... Not in the least."

There was the sound of a chair creaking.

"This is a mistake, Carl," Joanna said vilely. "You have gone too far. I will be calling my own emergency meeting. You have sided with the pathetic. One way or another, we will not be working together. You know what I bring to Wexford. I'm not near the top of the donor list in every program to listen to some —"

A loud banging sound made Sandra, Emily and Richard jump. Whatever it was, it silenced Joanna Warner in an instant.

Dr. Jensen's voice was unrecognizable when it came a moment later.

"Mrs. Warner ... I've let you stomp on me and this school for far too long. I urge you to call your emergency board meeting. In fact, I think one is already scheduled for this afternoon. You really should attend, since you will be the topic of discussion."

"Goodbye, Carl," she spat. "Come on, Allan, move."

"Goodbye to you too. And Evan, if you ever set foot in this building again —"

The door slammed.

Jensen sighed loudly, and then was still for a while. Then he could be heard moving in the room. A moment later, the door opened again.

"Sue, I'm going to go for a walk. Can you air out my office? That's the last time I ever want to smell that awful stink in there."

"Sure thing."

There was another short period of silence, and then the sound of the recorder being manipulated. The recording went dead. Richard fast forwarded for a bit, but it was over.

"Damn..." Sandra said.

"I guess we know where Wilcox disappeared to."

"I don't get it, though," Emily said. "What were they talking about with this Evan guy?"

Sandra shook her head. "I don't know, exactly. It's something that happened with Dr. Dobra a long time ago. Dr. Jensen called Wilcox 'Evan' at the end."

"I bet Dr. Dobra failed him out of theory at Eastman, so he changed his name and went to UCLA," Richard said slowly.

Sandra nodded. "Yeah. Dobra once said she's had it in for him ever since he came to Wexford. At my final, he mentioned something about an Evan Scurly, too. But he didn't tell me more."

They all breathed out, expelling the tension that had gripped them while listening to the tape.

"Where did you get this, again?" Emily asked.

"Dr. Jensen's secretary gave it to me. She must have taped it in secret."

"You don't think Dr. Jensen knew?"

Sandra shrugged. "I don't know. Didn't seem like it. His secretary was in the room when I had my fight with Joanna."

"Maybe she took a liking to you."

"I guess. She was looking up at me with this funny smile at one point."

"This is priceless," Richard said, holding out the tape.

Sandra pulled the little folded paper out of the case.

"She wrote this note, too: Live your life with passion, and you will inspire others to be brave... "

"Mmm ... Sounds like you shook things up at Wexford."

Sandra shook her head. "I'm just glad it's all over."

"I guess we'll never know what really happened between them and Dobra," Emily said. "Especially since he won't tell you his side."

"At this point, I don't care anymore. Things worked out, for both of us. He's back, I'm still here, and everything is good."

The three of them nodded and smiled, and Sandra put the tape back in the envelope and stashed it back in her bag.

It took her a while to quell her rapidly beating heart.

-------

The evening was both hopeful and sad for the trio. The prospect of a month apart weighed on them, and yet they made the most of their last hours together. There was much to look forward to, and they talked of both reality and dreams for the coming year.

They explored each other's lips and bodies like it was a hot night back in August. Their lovemaking was slow and intense. They clung to each other, perhaps trying to postpone the morning light that would pull them apart after they fell asleep.

It was quite late when they collapsed to the bed, satisfied and spent. The faint blue glow from the string of lights above the window remained one of the few things left to pack up in the morning.

"How do we not die?" Richard said, his voice quiet in the stillness.

"I don't know. I felt like I did, a little while ago, and it wasn't so bad," Emily answered.

He laughed gently. "I meant as artists. I don't want to fade away. I just want to feel the high forever."

"Hmm ... Me too."

"There are so few musicians who reach their late years with full satisfying careers," he said. "Look at Irina. Before I came out here, I thought she was a piano goddess. She still is, but my idea of her now is so different. I mean, she admitted to me that she's not at the top of her form. She has kids, a husband ... A garden..."

"That's probably what she wants now," Emily said simply.

"True. I guess she gets pleasure out of teaching now, and playing occasionally. But still. Look at so many others: a flash of brilliance for a few years, and then they end up moving into business, or working some crappy job, hating music. Or worse."

"I know," Sandra agreed.

"How do we hold on to this?" Richard asked.

They were silent for a long time.

"I guess it comes down to the music," he said at last. "The music keeps us interested, if it's good."

"Until we've played everything," Emily said.

"We can't play everything."

"No. But most of the things we like."

Richard considered. "Then we start over, find something new in what we've played before. I'm sure I'll come back to these Etudes some day."

"I really wish there were more pieces for our instruments," Emily said. "Not likely, though."

"We can commission something," Richard suggested.

"Yeah, but that's only one more work," Emily said. "Still a good idea, though," she added.

Sandra, who had been listening, suddenly spoke. "It comes down to love," she said, her voice quiet. "That's how we remain artists. I know you said it's in the music, but you meant love, Richard. Think of all the moments this last year that were amazing, either playing music, listening to it, watching it, conducting it ... there's love in every one. Love growing, like ours, or love lost, like..."

Sandra trailed off for a moment, her voice catching. Then she continued.

"That's the only way we can keep going forever, and not fade away. Love never stays the same. It grows, or it wanes, but never is it static. That's how we have to live as artists. Pushing forward, always looking to expose what we feel inside, and leaving that completely on the stage as we look for the next experience. Once we settle for the unchanging, we are lost. That's where we fade away, and become irrelevant."

Sandra sat up. "The music is just a vehicle. We chose to show different feelings at different times though different pieces, and even different interpretations ... Richard, a long time ago, the first night we made love, you explained something about how you were not ready for the Beethoven piece you played for us. Do you remember?"

"Yeah. I told you how I didn't understand that section until that moment. I didn't understand how the music intertwined and needed to be played."

"I thought about that for a long time, trying to understand, and only thought I did. But what was it really, that you understood?"

Richard was silent. "You're right," he said after some time. "It was because of you and Emily. I imagined the three of us singing the music together. And the feelings you two gave me at the time were exactly what that was like. The excitement, the hope..."

"Yeah, that's it!" Sandra said. "I understand, because I do the same thing! But that was love. You knew how to play the notes. I mean, you could play what was written. It wasn't until you felt that love for us that the music made sense!"

"But what about sadness?" Emily asked. "Not every piece is happy."

"It's still love, gained or lost. When I conducted the Schoenberg piece that one day in class, I was not happy. I thought I'd lost so much. Billy, my career, and worst of all, you and Richard. The piece completely changed for me, that day. It had been a romantic idyll up until then. I always pictured the three of us out on a calm, romantic night ... That would have led to such a different performance. Instead, it turned out very sad and moving for me."

"And everyone else who was there," Emily said quietly.

"Yeah ... And the same on the recital. We'd been through so much. I always thought it was funny, how we were onstage, playing and singing, and anyone who walked in would have just thought it was a regular recital. They'd have no idea that when we got off the stage we hugged, or kissed, or any of that. They wouldn't know all that we went through to be there, just by looking at us all dressed up fancy and under the lights. All they get is the formal stage show that way. But then it's up to us to show the real thing through the music.

"The people who listen to us have to feel it, and if we can do that, then we'll never fade away."

After a moment of silence, Richard and Emily each gave her a kiss, surprising her.

"What was that?"

"A little love," Emily said gently.

"Oh, I have so much of that for you two," Sandra said emotionally. "I just wish we weren't leaving tomorrow. It seems too soon."

"But we have lots to look forward to," Richard said quietly.

"Yes, we do," Sandra agreed. "We do."

-------

"What do you want to listen to first?" Vittorio asked.

Richard had chosen to drive, since the tight pack had left slightly more legroom on the driver's side. He glanced over at the shoebox full of cassettes that Vittorio was browsing through. His mind was still on the girls, and the emotional goodbye they had just gone through.

One month, until I see them... 

He shook out of it. "What did you bring?"

"Turandot ... Beethoven piano concertos. Also, a concert from Wexford..."

Richard laughed a little. He wondered how many times Vittorio had listened to the recording of their recital in the past month.

"No, not that one," he said. "Some other time, maybe."

Vittorio started naming some of the other tapes he had brought.

"Don't put anything in," Richard said, after the listing ended.

His dad considered, and then nodded. "You must be tired of music all the time."

"No, not at all. I want to tell you about some stories from school this year."

Vittorio seemed surprised, and then smiled. "I would love that," he said.

Richard nodded. "Where to start... ?"

"Anywhere you like. We have a long ride."

"So true," Richard said, already stretching his legs. He considered for a moment, and then laughed. "My first lesson, I was late by three minutes, and Irina was a little displeased. The first thing I thought of was..."

-------

"Welcome to Alitalia flight six-one-one, with non-stop service to Rome-Fiumicino..."

The last hint of a blazing sunset had disappeared while they boarded the giant red and green striped plane. Emily was peering out through the window at the baggage workers as they loaded the belly of the aircraft.

"There's my bag!" she said, pointing.

Richard peeked out, sharing her excitement. Sandra ignored the comment.

"Are you all right?" he asked her. She was sitting in the aisle seat next to him.

"I'm hanging in there."

"Just think about this: in eight and a half hours, we'll be stepping off the plane in Rome."

Sandra smiled slightly. "I know. But it seems like a really long time away."

Richard kissed her hand. "You'll be fine."

Emily turned to them. "One day, you'll be flying all over the world, giving concerts, and you'll remember this flight and laugh."

Sandra chuckled. "I don't know about that. Are you sure this thing can get off the ground?"

Richard laughed gently. An hour ago, when they arrived at the gate, Sandra had visibly staggered back when she looked out through the tall windows and caught sight of the nose of the seven-forty-seven. Her slight apprehension at being on her first plane trip suddenly had become full-blown fear when presented with the massive aircraft. Typical Italian bustle and vivacious discussion all around the waiting area didn't help to calm her down, either.

The doors closed, and people at last settled down. Vittorio and Angelina, in the row ahead, were already preparing to snooze, waiting only for the opportunity to recline their seats. Emily was still watching the tarmac activity with childlike enthusiasm, despite having flown many times in her life.

Richard kept his excitement outwardly in check, not wanting to further unnerve Sandra with giddy comments. He suggested that she close her eyes and listen to her favorite aria, knowing she didn't need a Walkman to do so.

Inside, he felt unusually happy. For almost a month, they would be leaving behind their responsibilities, and just enjoying themselves. He couldn't wait to show them around Rome for a few days, and then expose them to life in the small town where his family was from. They would meet his aunt, and his Italian friends, and have fun at the town's annual summer festival ... Then there were the beaches a few hours east, and perhaps a trip to the Amalfi coast if he could persuade his aunt to loan him his uncle's old Fiat ... William and Arlene would be there for part of the time, too...

As he looked back and forth at his two lovers and best friends, he thought back to the conservatory where they had met, and been through so much. The recital was ages ago, it seemed. Despite knowing that there had been long hours of practicing put in by all three of them, that part was harder to remember than the actual event itself, and the exhilaration they felt afterwards.

He thought back to that first heady week in the dorms, when the pressures of Wexford had not yet presented themselves. He remembered an innocent conversation over Thai food where he had promised to take them to Italy. It had been a dream, and even a joke...

And yet... 

The movement of the plane shook him out of his thoughts, and he soon left behind his memories and squeezed Emily's arm as they backed out of the gate.

Emily gave him an excited smile, and then turned back to watch the departure.

Time to make some new memories,  he thought.


-------
The End
-------
Posted:  2006-06-12
Last Modified: 2008-09-07 / 10:50:33 pm
-------
http://storiesonline.net/
-------