Closing my eyes as I moved through each measure of the song, I watched Savannah’s eyebrows pull together, strands of her golden hair falling into her face as she kept up with whatever tempo I set. I wanted to play harder and faster than this recording, but I stayed with Savannah, allowing her even tempo to wash over me, to calm the bitterness I felt toward Karin. How dare Karin try to use her insecurities to guilt me into having children with her.
Sweat formed across my brow and slid coolly down the side of my face as I was brought back into the practice rooms at the conservatory, where Savannah and I had stolen many kisses. Too many. Shaking my head slightly, I returned my thoughts to Karin. Perhaps I was unnecessarily cruel in suggesting she leave the house for a few days. I was the one with the issue. I was the one struggling with the idea of forming a family. Whether or not Karin could admit it now, this tour would give both of us time to cool off and reassess our goals. I was confident that by the time I returned in August, we would be able to start fresh, with clear expectations on moving forward.
As I neared the end of Assobio, the memory of Savanna’s smile every time we successfully finished the piece left me breathless, and angry. I set down my cello and walked to the docking station, roughly tore my iPod out of it, and threw it against the wall with a growl.
Walking over to where it lay on the ground, I knelt down and picked it up. Thumbing back to Savannah’s recording, I deleted it as quickly as I could.
Savannah
“Are you sure about this, guys? I feel a little weird about it.” Sitting across from Nathan and Marcia at a tiny coffee shop in Andover, I struggled over the decision to join the Big Five tour for the summer.
“What the hell is holding you back?” Marcia chuckled. “You’re just home from Moscow and have zero plans for the summer. At least this will give you something to focus on. And keep you playing.”
“Can’t you come, too?” I looked to her pleadingly.
“I’d love to, you know that. I would have auditioned for it if I hadn’t already committed to so many private lessons this summer. They start right when school ends.” Marcia was a middle school band director in Andover and seemed to absolutely love her job.
Nathan feigned hurt. “What? I’m not enough?”
I laughed. “No, I’m thrilled you’re going. But … that’s the thing. Like Marcia just said, she would have to audition. Madeline said I could just … take her spot.”
I shook my head thinking about the brief conversation I had with Madeline the day after her wedding. She told me the organizers of the tour would be more than happy to have me in her spot, especially since I played for the Bolshoi Ballet, and they knew I had maintained my training.
“Come on,” Nathan cocked his head to the side the way he always did when he was being sweet, “don’t you think the organizers—the ones from Boston anyway—are thrilled to get their hands on you again?”
“What does that mean?” I asked, biting the inside of my cheek.
Marcia smiled. “Savannah.”
“Marcia,” I shot back playfully.
“They love you,” she continued warmly. “Not just because you’re amazingly gifted, though that’s a huge part of it. When you left it was like the star quarterback walking away from a zillion-dollar NFL deal, or something. You could have had any symphony you wanted, and they were all just waiting for you to decide.”
I sighed, recalling the many emails and letters I’d received over the last five years asking me to come practice with, or audition for, orchestras from Boston to San Francisco. I ignored some, politely declined the others. That wasn’t what I wanted then.
“We’re not saying they’re going to spend the summer scouting you, Savannah,” Nathan entered. “But if you take yourself seriously on this tour, you could very well have your pick all over again … if that’s what you want.”
“All right, all right, I’ll do it.” I smiled, butterflies forming in my stomach over performing with the most elite musicians in America.
“Yes!” Nathan high-fived me. It would be great to spend the summer catching up with him, as well. “It’s basically just going to be the youngest members of the symphonies anyway, since we’re the ones who are going to lead them in a few short years. So, we’ll be in good company. And you’ll finally be able to meet Christine.”
Christine was Nathan’s girlfriend of the last six months. She graduated from Eastman the same year Nathan graduated from NEC and was one of two harp players with the Chicago Symphony. Whenever he said her name his eyes would light up, and his entire body jerked to attention every time he heard the chime from an incoming text message.
I smiled. “That’d be great. Well,” I sighed, “I suppose I should call the number Madeline left me and get organized. Nate, you’re not staying in the hotel for the next two weeks are you? We should just stay at Madeline’s. She said to call her if we wanted to, and she’d cancel her house sitter.”
Marcia played with her napkin as she spoke. “You’re not going to stay with—”
“No,” I cut her off. She and Nathan shared a sideways glance. “I don’t want to talk about that right now, okay?”
“Okay,” she shrugged, “let’s talk about what we want to get at the liquor store this afternoon. You two aren’t staying at Madeline’s or in a hotel. You guys can stay with me. I own a house, remember? I’m all grown up and stuff.”
We all laughed. For the first time in several years, aside from my experience with Bolshoi, I was feeling excitement over my prospects come the end of the summer.