Nocturne(89)

She shrugged. “I have been.”

I swallowed. Then I plunged forward. “I never stopped loving you. I never stopped thinking of you.”

She shook her head. “Inconvenient, isn’t it, that you went and got married.”

I winced. “Yeah. Well, I did. I was … lost. Lonely. I’d screwed up badly and knew it. I’d lost touch with you. I didn’t know how to make it up to you. I didn’t know how to fix it. And ... she was there. It was just ... easy.”

“Easy?”

My tone dropped, and while I spoke the words, I couldn’t possibly express the frustration, the disgust. “Easy and stupid. I married someone I didn’t love.”

She met my eyes. “What does that have to do with me, Gregory?”

I held her gaze. “I guess, what I’m trying to say is ... I can’t promise you anything. I can’t ask for anything. But … I’m going to anyway. I want you, Savannah. I want you in my life ... for … whatever happiness we can have, while we can have it.”

She recoiled, confusion and sadness on her face. Then she started to stand, and I reached out and grabbed her hand.

“Please,” I whispered. “Savannah ... I need you. Desperately.”

She shook her head, tiny movements, and I dove in and said, “We have this summer. We have … the next two months on the road. Savannah ... don’t turn me away. I love you.”

“What are you asking me?” she cried.

“I want you to have an affair with me.”

The words fell into the room, suddenly silencing everything around us. She stared at me, her lower lip barely trembling.

Then she stood, yanking her hand from mine, and ran out of the car.





Savannah


Yes.

I got out of the lounge car as fast as I could, before I could utter the single most ridiculous word I’d ever considered saying. Gregory just asked me to spend the summer with him. With him. He loved me. Just me. There were things going on in his marriage that were complicated, but … he didn’t love her.

He loved me.

I needed to talk to someone about this. I needed to tease out reality from fantasy, and love from choices. Because, really, whether or not Gregory loved Karin, he was married to her. He chose to marry her when I was thousands of miles away and not in his life at all.

What if I’d been around?

I’m consumed by you and need you in my life any way I can have you ...

I couldn’t tell him I didn’t feel the same way. Because I did. I had been consumed by him from the moment he played at the end of our first class. Obsessed. Obsession makes people crazy.

Maybe crazy was okay if love was the reason.

Yes, I definitely needed to call someone.

Nathan had listened to me cry about my mistake with Gregory after I’d gotten off the phone with my mother. He yelled some colorful language about Gregory putting me in the position to get hurt. That I deserved better than that, and I was wise to stay away from him. The fact that I was considering graduating from the other woman to full mistress status for an entire summer, rather than a single night, was not a conversation I could have with the hot-headed flutist. No one needed a broken hand, and Nathan would be the last to consider the effect one could have on his career.

Marcia had texted me several times when I didn’t call her back. I now had a hell of a lot more to tell her than I did after our initial call. Somehow I’d been fortunate enough to end up in a single sleeper room on the train. I have no idea who I’d have to thank for that, but they were getting thanked. A train is not typically a place that grants privacy, but I’d finally caught a sliver of a break.

Lying flat out on my bed, there was one person I had to call before my former roommate. I pressed send and spent a few seconds drumming up something to say.

“Hello?” His voice was groggy, unfocused.

“Dad. I know it’s late ... I’m sorry. I needed to … I needed to hear your voice. Can we talk?”

“Savannah! I’m glad you called. I never know when is a good time …”

“I know, Dad, it’s fine. We’re so busy all the time between playing and traveling, and figuring out which city we’re in.” I laughed for the first time in several days.

“How are things going?”

I chatted with him for a few minutes about the cities we’d been to, the various venues we’d played in, and how everyone was getting along. While the tour was mostly comprised of younger musicians, newer to their respective symphonies, there were some seasoned members amongst us. Some with long standing feuds with other musicians, which made for great storytelling during late night transit. Who would have guessed that trombonists could be so moody?

We never talked about my mom, apart from him telling me once in a while that I needed to call her back.

“Dad,” I sighed, “I talked to Mom the other day. She told me about Malcolm.”

“What … um, what did she tell you about Malcolm?” His voice had changed. He sounded slightly on edge. Not angry, though.

“About the story in Opera News.”

“Uh-huh …”

“Did it go on for the whole seven years, Dad?”

“Savannah …” As he exhaled into the phone, I could almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose.