The Silent Sister(98)

I must have stared at the back of the chair in front of me for a good five minutes before I looked at the stage again, and it was as though I was finally hearing the music for the first time. They were good musicians, all of them. Lisa sang harmony, but the vocals really belonged to Celia and Shane. The fiddle, however, was Lisa’s alone, and when she took off on a solo riff, she had the audience on its feet. I stood up myself, but my knees shook and I had to clutch the back of the chair in front of me to stay upright.

They took a break about an hour in. Holding tight to Violet, I waited in line to use the too-small and overworked restroom. I wanted the numbness another beer would give me, but I couldn’t afford the foggy brain that might come with it, so I bought a bottle of water for the second half of the show.

When they took the stage again, my anxiety intensified as I realized I had no idea what time the performance would end. As they played song after song and the minutes ticked by, I began to panic. What if they rushed out of the building afterward? Ran from the stage to a waiting car in the alley behind Dulcimer? What if this whole trip had been for nothing?

And why had I stupidly picked a seat in the middle of a row?

I waited until the end of the next song before getting to my feet. Mumbling “Excuse me” over and over again, I stepped on toes and forced people to stand as I slid past them, trying not to whack any of them with the violin case.

The burly guy dressed in black had been leaning against the brick wall, watching the concert, but when he saw me heading for the stage door, he took two steps forward to block my entry.

I gave him the warmest smile I could manage, and he leaned over so I could speak into his ear. I had to shout to be heard, the music was so loud this close to the stage.

“I need to see Jade after the show,” I said. “I’m her sister and I have her old violin.” I thought it would be best to go with sister rather than daughter, although I was certain either word would set off alarm bells when Lisa heard it. The guy frowned at me and I remembered reading Lisa’s online biography: the only child of a doctor and a nurse. I hoped he’d never read her bio. I smiled at him again. “I wanted to surprise her with it,” I said.

“Let me check it out,” he shouted into my ear, and I followed him to a narrow shelf on the wall near the door. I couldn’t blame him. For all he knew, I was carrying a weapon in the case. I worried that Lisa might see Violet as exactly that.

I rested the case on the shelf and opened it. He didn’t try to remove the violin, but felt all around it with his fingertips. Then he shouted, “Come with me.”

I closed the case and followed him through the door into a corridor painfully lit by bare fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling. A few closed doors were to my left, and an open door on my right led into an office. The woman with the purple hair sat at a desk, and she looked up when the guard and I appeared in the doorway.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“This is one of the band’s sister,” the guard said.

“Jade’s,” I said to the woman. “I live nearby and I brought her old violin. I thought she’d like to have it. Can I see her after the show?”

I could tell the woman wasn’t buying it. “She didn’t say anything about anyone coming.”

“No, I know. I didn’t think I’d be in town, but I am, so I wanted to surprise her.” I was speaking quickly. I sounded like I was making up my story on the spot. Which I was.

“I checked the case,” the guard said. “It’s a real violin.” He glanced down the hall. “I’ve gotta get out there,” he said. He left me standing in the doorway as he retreated back the way we’d come.

The woman looked at the digital clock on the wall. “I’ll ask her when she’s off the stage,” she said, getting to her feet. “Sounds like they’re wrapping up now.” I could hear the applause, louder than before. “What’s your name?” she asked.

I didn’t want to tell her my name, but could see no way around it. “Riley,” I said.

“Okay.” She walked past me. “You take a seat in here.” She pointed to one of the two chairs near her desk. “I’ll let her know.”

I sat down and watched her disappear into the hallway. I was breathing fast and hard, my hands sweaty on the violin case. This wasn’t going to work. She’d tell Lisa and Lisa would panic and escape before I had the chance to see her. I sat there for a few minutes, Violet on my lap. The applause wound down and I heard the sound of chairs scraping the floor and the hum of a hundred voices. I pictured Lisa leaving the stage. The woman with the purple hair approaching her. And then I couldn’t stand it any longer. I stood up and rushed into the hallway to find my mother.





52.

Jade

Celia dropped onto one of the fake antique dressing room chairs. “I’m getting too old for this,” she said, but she was grinning.

“Remember Bonnie Raitt,” Jade reminded her, as she did whenever they felt tired. Bonnie was one of their musical heroes and, at sixty-three, still touring. Jade and Celia were more than twenty years younger. It was true that they were wiped out after every performance, but they were also having the time of their lives. Jade had known from the age of five how it felt to perform in front of an appreciative audience. There was no drug in the world that could get her that high.