Nocturne(121)

As the band played its final note, he leaned close, his lips near my ear, and he whispered, “Savannah, I want you to be mine.”

I sucked in a breath at his words. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t even see. My emotions were overwhelmed. I was overwhelmed.

“You can’t leave your life ...”

He kept one hand firmly at the small of my back and said, “I already did. I want you to be my new life.”

I felt my pulse in my neck as my hands slid down his shoulders onto his chest. “But ... where will you work?”

He chuckled softly. “I was principal cellist for the Boston Symphony Orchestra. I can work anywhere I want.”

I shivered, because I knew he was right. And I could not get my mind around the idea that he’d walked away from it.

“I … live in Moscow. I’m not planning to be here for long, but I’m not going back to the States.”

He shrugged then whispered in my ear, “We can go anywhere we want, Savannah. Anywhere. Just … let it be together.” His voice dropped to a low growl, the same early-morning voice, which sent shivers down my spine every single time during our months together. “Savannah ... I’m begging you.”

I pulled him tighter, and his arms tightened on me as I whispered, “I’m afraid, Gregory.”

“Don’t be afraid. Because I’ll always be there. I belong to you now. And forever.”

My chin quivered as I briefly examined what my life would look like without him. Always wondering. Wishing. Regretting. My lips twitched into a smile, my eyes filling with tears.

“Forever,” I whispered, pulling back so I could kiss him the way I’d wanted to since I spotted him across the ballroom.

The room had emptied, the call for dinner had come and gone, but Gregory and I held onto each other, and our promise, until the musicians took their places once more. A waltz closed out the last portion of the evening, and Gregory led me. The music sounded different, even though the same ensemble was on the stage.

Music always sounded better with him.

With us.





Gregory


The cool September breeze blew off the River Thames to the fifth floor balcony where I sat, drinking a cup of tea. Our flat on Chicheley Street, right in the heart of London, was little more than six hundred square feet. Six hundred square feet of joy that we’d rented not long after Savannah was offered first chair with the London Symphony.

I’d never forget the day she got the call. The pride in her glistening eyes as tears ran down her face. The pure joy I felt for her at the realization of her dreams.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” she’d asked.

As if I could possibly mind. Savannah was at the top of her career. Every single day I was stunned by her talent, her beauty, her love. Every day.

Today I was nursing a little bit of a hangover, but that would clear soon enough. I took out my phone and scanned through the various congratulatory emails and messages. Some of them, such as those from former students and friends like Joseph McIntosh.

But the last two years had changed that in so many ways. And that made me grateful for the friends, like James and Madeline, who had stuck it out with me, who had stayed friends, who had brought their own wisdom and love and care to my life.

The door opened, and James stepped out on the balcony. He set his coffee down and took a seat. He was already dressed. I slid the letter across to him. It was from the National Children’s Orchestras of Great Britain, offering me the position of Principal Director of Music. It would be a change. Instead of being a professional musician, I’d be a mentor, a conductor. I’d be nurturing children who sought careers in music.

James scanned the letter then looked up at me, folding it back into thirds.

“Not what I expected,” he said. “You’ll be teaching only ... not playing.”

I nodded. “I’ll always play. But ... I’ve been there, James. I spent ten years as principal chair at the BSO. I feel like it’s time to give something back.”

He nodded. “I get it, Gregory. I’m just ... surprised. And very happy for you. Can I tell you, I almost didn’t recognize you. You’re so happy it’s almost frightening.”

I chuckled. “You expect me to be tortured? Closeted somewhere with my cello?”

James laughed. “Yes. Generally that’s exactly what I expect of you.” He shook his head and took another drink of his coffee. “Does Savannah know yet?”

“About the job? No. Rather, she knows I’ve been talking with them. The offer came yesterday and I wanted today to be ... about us. Not about the job.”

He smiled. “I’m incredibly happy for you. Madeline is too.”

I leaned forward, took another sip of my tea. “Speaking of Madeline, she’s pretty far along. Do you know if this one’s a boy a girl?” Pretty far along was an understatement. Even though she wasn’t due for another three months, Madeline was as big as an upright bass.

He shook his head. “Not yet. She doesn’t want to know in advance.”

“And how is little Delaney?”

“She took her first steps two weeks ago.” The pride on his face was transparent and beautiful. He said, “What about you two? Any plans for kids?”

I shook my head. “Neither of us is really thinking along those lines. I don’t know what the future may hold, but for now, it’s the two of us.”