Nocturne(66)

Karin rolled her eyes as I pulled her chair out for her. Needing to change the course of our evening and fast, I leaned over her and pressed my lips softly against her cheek.

“You look absolutely stunning tonight, darling,” I whispered into her ear.

The corners of her eyes creased as a large smile took residence in her face. “Thank you, Gregory.”

Dinner went smoothly and the cake was served with mediocre coffee. I didn’t finish chewing my second bite before Sadie Daniels, oboe, turned to Karin and said, “So, when are you two going to start your family?” As she rubbed her growing belly, I swallowed a mouthful of the bitter coffee to cover up nearly choking.

Not this conversation. Not here.

“Soon,” Karin answered confidently as her hand glided over to my thigh underneath the crisp champagne colored linen tablecloth.

“Don’t look so excited, Gregory,” Sadie teased. Tasteless.

“Well,” I was honest, “we haven’t discussed it much, really. What with our work schedules and traveling this summer—”

“Traveling?” Karin dropped her hand and pulled her head back a bit.

“Yes, for the Big Five Tour,” I said matter-of-factly. Because it was fact.

American orchestras had been losing money at an alarming rate since 2000. Each year, it seemed, there was another long-standing orchestra ending their year in the red for the first time in decades. The Big Five decided to take initiative on the matter by forming an orchestra made up of members from each orchestra, and touring the United States. While the goal was to raise awareness of and increase excitement for classical music, the underlying goal was to gain new donors to keep this cornerstone of American arts above water.

“I thought we decided you were going to abstain from that tour.” Karin worked to keep her voice even. “James and Madeline aren’t participating.”

I took a deep breath and tried to diffuse a potential scene. “James and Madeline have just gotten married, Karin. They’ll be on their honeymoon when the tour starts in two weeks.”

I agreed to participate in the tour before checking with Karin first. The idea of checking with another person for professional decisions still seemed foreign to me, even after three years of marriage. And then Karin declared during the winter that while the BSO was on break for the season in the summer, we would start trying to have a baby.

A baby.

Something she wanted without a doubt, and something we hadn’t discussed much before getting married. Any time I tried to have a rational discussion with her about it, she became defensive and overly emotional. Those discussions were short.

The conversation about my joining the tour during what was deemed by Karin to be a very important summer in our marriage, however, was anything but short. We’d just discussed it this morning, too. I told her this was beyond being important for my career, that it was important for music as a whole. Not something I expected her to fully understand, not being a musician herself. But something I thought she could accept. Staring at her in the middle of our friends’ wedding, with all of our tablemates’ eyes on us, however, it was apparent she did not, in fact, understand.

As the band cued up and the dancing started, I saw the blue eyelet dress twirling on the far end of the dance floor and I had to get out of there.

“Excuse me.” I set my napkin on my chair, adjusted my bowtie, and headed for the bar. Karin wasn’t far behind me.

“You can’t run away from this, Gregory,” she snapped as I waited for the bartender to mix my drink.

“And you can’t run away from my decision, Karin. This tour is important.”

“To you!” Her voice was louder than I cared for.

“To music,” I shot back through gritted teeth. “If you don’t understand that …”

“What? If I don’t understand you placing the tour … this life over our life? Over starting a family?” Her blue eyes filled with tears.

I leaned in close, not wanting to invite an audience. “Karin, we never discussed having children. I’m open to the discussion, but not open to being forced into fatherhood.”

Her eyes cast to the floor for several seconds. When they looked up they were devoid of tears. Of any emotion at all. “I’m going home. I trust you can find your way there when you’re finished up here?” She looked past my shoulder waiting for an answer.

I nodded. “Yes.” At my response her eyes shot to mine as if she were shocked by my reply.

“Wow,” she sighed, “you have no fight left in you for anything but music, do you?” She picked up her purse and made her way toward the exit.

“Sir?” the bartender called out, handing me my drink.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, shoving a twenty into his tip jar before searching for a way outside that wasn’t the way Karin went. I needed fresh air.

Leaning against a rail and taking a long sip of my gin, I thought about this summer. I was going. There wasn’t much else to think about. Some colleagues I’d worked with during my days as a student at the conservatory who’d gone on to other orchestras would be participating, and it would be good to catch up. Before I could give it much more thought, Savannah’s melodic laughter burst through the French doors opposite where I was standing. She and Nathan were fanning themselves and looking up at the starlit sky. This afforded me an extra second to take in the way her neck glistened under the moonlight before they saw me.