“Thank you so much guys. Oh yes, you got my favorite moisturizer too! You’re everything a girl could ask for.” I held up a cotton T-shirt that said, “Baby got Bach” and rubbed my face into it like the Snuggle bear. “Mmm.” It smelled like home and comfort and lazy days. Another outfit, a better bra, thank God, and—
“What’s with the baseball bat?” I lifted out a heavy Louisville Slugger.
Gretchen winked with a knowing nod. “I gotchu, boo.”
“We’ve been concerned,” Roxy added. As always, she was dressed in all black, including heavy black eye liner and a leather coat covering her tattoos. She had been the last to leave the Wraiths and the life that came with Jethro Winston. She was the sharpest-edged but easily the most fragile of all of us. “We heard there was weirdness last night after your concert and suddenly you’re off the map and this random number is texting us. I don’t like this shit.”
“Someone texted you?” I asked, placing the bat back into the bag and taking out a fresh outfit.
“The number was unknown but mentioned the meeting with a time and address. We figured we’d check it out,” Suzie said.
Blithe grinned as she grabbed a batch of grapes. Her almost-see-through eyelashes fluttered with excitement. “We were stoked that you were being assertive and taking the lead for the next meeting.”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t me.”
“That’s what I said.” Roxy made a told-you-so face at Gretchen, her dark rimmed eyes squinting at her. “Didn’t sound like you. You’re never that decisive.”
“That feels sort of judgey,” I said.
“I didn’t mean it that way. You’re very go-with-the-flow. It’s a compliment,” Roxy amended.
The words were out there though, stuck in my mind like burrs in socks where I’d be picking at them hours from now. I didn’t think I was indecisive. Was I? I was careful. Was that how they saw me?
“Anyway, we knew there was a risk because it was all very cloak and dagger. We all came together just to be safe.” This from Suzie. “Anybody that chooses to mess with us gals is planning their own funeral.”
“And I have reinforcements in the car.” Gretchen made the shape of a gun with her fingers.
“Where they will stay,” Blithe said pointedly.
I smiled and warmth spread through me again. No time for overthinking. I was so happy to see these ladies and have some non-music time. No ruining it by being a grumpy Gretchen. Plus, we already had a Gretchen. I couldn’t believe Devlin would do this. I had only mentioned the SWS meeting a few hours ago, and he had somehow managed all this.
“This is Devlin’s house,” I explained.
“The Devil of the Symphony,” Blithe gasped.
“Your conductor?” Gretchen raised an eyebrow.
The girls all looked at each other like this information made no sense. To be fair, this information made no sense.
“Okay, you have got to tell us what is going on.” Blithe sipped some pink wine and did a shoulder shimmy of happiness.
“Of course,” I said. “But first, stretchy pants.”
I walked in to find the girls had created a pile of blankets and pillows in front of the massive fireplace that was the centerpiece of the luxurious room. I filled up a plate with a little bit of everything I could fit on it.
“Okay, so if a dolphin is such a lame choice, what animal would you be?” Blithe snapped.
“A shark, obviously,” Gretchen said without delay. “Everybody knows sharks are awesome.”
Roxy rolled her eyes at their antics but spoke to me as I joined them on the floor. “This place is beautiful.”
“I know,” I said. This place was so big and beautiful. It was a shame he lived here all alone. “You should see Devlin’s studio in the basement.”
“What’s his last name, anyhow?” Suzie asked.
“No last name. It’s a stage name. Like Madonna.” Gretchen sniffed the cheese in her hand before taking a nibble. “I looked into him when he started at the SOOK but there wasn’t much. He just sort of appeared on the classical music scene a few years back.”
I thought about that. I would have to ask him his real name. Sure, and then he would just take off his mask and reveal all his secrets to me.
“Okay, now that we are full and more agreeable. Spill it,” Roxy demanded.
In as succinct a manner as I could, I replayed the events of the previous night, and a little before. I started with Devlin showing up at my house unexpectedly, then Carla’s sudden absence, the solo (pause for woot-woots of appreciation), Roddy showing up, and then finally waking up here.
By the time I was done talking, I think an hour had passed and the wine was gone. I sipped my cider and eyed them over the rim as they took in my story.
Gretchen, of course, was the first to speak. “I can’t believe love note guy is back.”
I winced. I had sort of been hoping to keep that part out of the story. But when you only have two exes, and one is Jethro Winston—who obviously wasn’t the one dropping love notes—it wasn’t a surprise that she made the connection.
“Dang it, I hate being new. Who’s the love note guy? What’s that about?” Suzie’s cheeks were flushed, making her emerald eyes sparkle.
Roxy set her empty glass on the granite hearth in front of the fireplace and pulled a blanket to her chin. She yawned sleepily around her sentence. “It’s not just you. I don’t know who he is either.”
“You tell it, Kim. It starts like this, ‘This one time, at band camp …’” Blithe giggled at her own joke and rested her head on the pillow next to Roxy. With Blithe’s pale coloring and Roxy’s edgy-dark look, they were like a yin-yang.
The room had grown warm from the fire despite the chilling winds whistling outside. Our full bellies gave us all a lethargic peace, melting our limbs into wherever the nearest pillow was. I scanned the girls and couldn’t help my contented smile.
“To start, they weren’t love notes. Some were even harsh criticisms, actually. Also, I will have you know it was an orchestra camp—far less phallic-shaped instruments,” I said. “More F-holes, though. And wood.” We all laughed. “My parents basically sent me every summer growing up. Camp Hickory was for the kids of senators and super-fancy old-money types. It was tough to get into. People came from all over the world,” I explained. “You still had to apply, and some really successful people came out of it too.”
“Ohh, like who?” Suzie used the back of her hand to stifle a yawn. “Anybody I know?”
“Well, like Francesca Belia and Karl Norman.” I threw out the names of some of the biggest up and coming classical musicians only to receive blank stares.
“Oh, and YouTube boy … Gah, what was his name? You had the biggest crush on him,” Gretchen ratted me out. Again.
I scrunched up my face. I had really been hoping she’d forgotten about that.
“Who?” Blithe tilted her head in thought.
“You know, the one. He had that huge song and then fell off the map,” Gretchen said. “‘Thoughts of you, my soul on fire,’ uh, something, something, ‘I look at you, but