Parents and other orchestra buffs found their seats. Pre-show chatter filled the storied room. I’d never been here, and Tyler was performing as a ninth grader. Once again the divergence of our lives hit me hard. There hadn’t been anyone to look out for me, but I’d never stop looking out for him.
The house lights dimmed and the crowd quieted as students filed out onto the stage. Phones were pulled up, their screens filling the audience like a high-tech version of lighters calling for an encore.
Tyler’s curly mop was pulled back, but I could tell it was him. He took his seat without looking out at the crowd. All the other kids searched the audience from the stage, although they had to be blinded by the lights, but he didn’t.
He didn’t think I’d come, and I’d never been happier for Leo stating in no uncertain terms that I was getting on the train. Tyler would’ve covered his disappointment on our next call, but it would’ve been there.
Shoving down the embarrassment that would normally keep me in my seat, I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted his name whooping. “You’ve got this, Ty!”
His head shot up. Even if he couldn’t find me in the sea of people, from his grin, he knew I was there.
I sat back to enjoy the performance, ready to shower him with hugs and praise the moment they finished.
The conductor stood and they launched into the first song. Orchestral versions of popular movie themes took us from the jaws of summer hysteria and horror to interstellar travel with a few watchful guardians.
Tyler’s heart was in every note, and his happiness radiated throughout the concert hall. He wasn’t planning to become a concert cellist, but he could be. Opportunities surrounded him, and tomorrow I’d be able to secure them for myself as well.
Less than twenty-four hours until our lives changed forever.
I led the charge to the standing ovation at the end. Every musician putting their all into the performance had paid off. Not that I knew the first thing about classical music, but every song was beautiful.
Parents swarmed the aisles and kids abandoned their instruments and fanned out to find their cheerleaders in the audience. I lost sight of Tyler behind the family hugs, program flinging, and bouquets of roses handed to other students.
“Zara, you came.” His bushy curls had escaped his contained stage hairstyle and bobbed as he darted down an aisle toward me. His arms were longer than I remembered, and he wrapped them around me and hugged me tight. He wasn’t so little anymore.
“I told you I’d try.” I hugged him back even harder.
“But you’re always so busy with work. I didn’t think you’d make it.”
Burying my head in his floral-scented hair, I sent up a silent thanks to Leo for getting me on that train. Tyler would’ve told me it wasn’t a big deal if I’d missed it, not wanting to lay on the guilt, but based on his excitement now, he’d have been crushed if he’d wandered the aisles with no one to celebrate him.
I brushed back some of his curls. “Who did your hair?”
His cheeks reddened and he ducked his head, trying to smooth it back down. “One of the first chair girls did it on the bus ride over. She said everyone would be mesmerized by the sway of my hair if she didn’t do something with it.”
“It looks good. But I think the lights melted some of the product.” I patted my hand against his head. “You’re half-porcupine, half-curly fry.”
He swatted at my arm. “You’re making it worse.” Annoying older sister was a job I never minded being on duty for.
“My friend’s parents invited me out to dinner with them. Can you come?” He held onto my hand, dragging me down the aisle.
“They didn’t invite me. We can go get a bite somewhere else together.”
“No, Z. I want you to meet them. They’re going to this awesome restaurant. He said normally you have to get reservations six months in advance, but his mom called and they had a table right away.”
“And that’s exactly the reason they wouldn’t want another person tacked onto their reservation.” I tried to dig my heels in, but the carpet was too smooth and soft and Tyler was now too strong. He pulled me forward.
Turned out the parents were happy to have me along. I’d hoped they’d be snooty assholes, so Tyler and I could grab a bite at a sandwich shop before my train ride, but they were gracious and lovely.
What wasn’t so lovely were the prices at the trendy tasting-menu-only restaurant in Tribeca. If they’d been printed on the embossed and personally-signed-by-the-Michelin-starred-chef dish listings, I’d have probably fallen out of my seat.
The next time I picked up Tyler from school, we’d take them out to dinner. Not somewhere this amazing, but not a place with laminated menus. After tomorrow, that would be possible.
After a full seven courses, a glass of wine, and all the hugs I could get from my little brother, I was back at the train station, texting Leo to see how his night had gone.
No reply. Sitting in the station waiting for my train, I nodded off more than once. I set the timer on my phone for every ten minutes, so I wouldn’t miss the last train.
Safely on board, I set another alarm, so I wouldn’t miss my stop.
“Ma’am.” Someone rocked my shoulder.
Groggy, I opened my eyes and looked up at the conductor.
Snapping up straight, I squeezed the bridge of my nose and rubbed my eyes. “Are we in Philly yet?”
“Philly? Sweetheart, Philadelphia was five stops ago.”
I shot up out of my seat. The train car was empty. Out the window, the blue and white station sign hung above the platform. Washington, DC.
I gathered everything up and bolted off the train. Scrambling for another ticket, I was back on my way to Philly too late to show up at Leo’s. As much as I wanted to sleep beside him and check over his work, I stopped myself. Trust him—he can do this. Instead, I went home and crashed, sleeping well, knowing he had everything handled, and that tomorrow would kick off something bigger than I’d ever worked on before.
40
Leo
I jolted awake. Pens and pencils were sprayed across the table. Fuck, my neck was killing me. That’s what I got for sleeping at my kitchen table. I scrambled for the laptop, opening it and releasing a grateful sigh that all the work I’d done last night was saved and backed up.
My phone buzzed the angry song across the paper-covered table top. I rubbed my eyes and cracked my back.
Shit! It was already 8am.
Zara: Are you on your way?
Me: In a taxi now. I’ll be there in a bit.
Zara: I’m on my way too. Wait until I tell you what happened last night. But don’t worry, disaster averted. I know you got everything handled.
She must’ve heard the news already. Leave it to Zara to have a Google Alert on everything under the sun, but she hadn’t turned right around and come back. She’d left it to me to handle and enjoyed her time with her little brother. This upped my confidence even more going into this presentation.
I needed to get the hell out of here. I triple saved everything and closed the laptop. After gathering up the papers, I rushed into the shower, threw on some clothes, and was out the door in less than fifteen minutes.