Page 30 of Counterpoint and Harmony

Chapter Seventeen

Overtone:a musical tone that is part of the harmonic series above a fundamental note and may be heard with it

Damian

“Damian!” My mom pulls me in for a hug as soon as I walk in the door for Sunday dinner the weekend after Charlie’s impromptu visit. She pulls back and examines my face, and I smile down at her. “You look happy,mijo.Happier than I’ve seen you in a while. What’s changed?”

I shrug. “School’s going well. Only a few weeks until I go for the final round of the concerto competition. I’m excited. Dr. Weber says I’m playing better than ever, so I think I have a chance of winning.”

“Of course you do.” She releases my arms and steps back. “You’re talented, and you work hard. But you know we’re proud of you no matter what.”

“Yes,Mamá. I know.”

She nods. “Good. Now go say hello to your sister. Your older siblings aren’t going to make it tonight, so it’ll just be the four of us.”

I head for the living room where Carla is sitting on the couch with her legs curled under her while Mom heads back to the kitchen to finish getting dinner ready.

“Being lazy and not helping Mom tonight?” I poke her in the leg and then sit down on the other end of the couch.

She sticks her tongue out at me. “Like you’re any better.”

“Ah, but I don’t live here anymore. I can get away with it.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but then a guilty look flashes across her face, and she scrambles for the remote. At first I don’t get it, but then I realize that she’s watching an entertainment news show, and they’ve started talking about Charlie.

“Oh, God. I’m sorry, Damian. I know you don’t like hearing about her any more than necessary. Where’d the stupid remote go?”

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

She stops and stares at me stupidly. “What?” Leaning over, she presses the back of her hand to my forehead. “Are you feeling okay? Because for months, you’d growl any time her name came up. And now you’re suddenly okay with it?”

I shrug, feeling like an asshole, but not sure what to say. Plus, I want to hear what they’re saying about her. “Shh. Did you find the remote yet? Turn it up a little.”

Carla just gapes at me, so I ignore her and lean forward.

“Charlotte James seems to be planning a grassroots return,” says the male announcer. “Over the last few weeks, she’s been showing up in random locations and announcing a seemingly impromptu performance on social media and in an email blast to her fans.”

“The shows usually end up with standing room only, and people start lining up as soon as the announcement goes out. According to people who’ve been able to get in, she’s previewing new songs from her album in progress,” the female announcer adds. “Gosh, Mark. I’d love to be able to get into one of those shows. You think she’d let us know early so we can make plans ahead of time?”

The male announcer lets out a fake laugh, flashing his ultra-white teeth. “I don’t know about that, Melanie. It seems that the whole idea is that no one knows ahead of time when and where she’ll show up next. She’s been in big cities and small towns. The first one was in Spokane, WA, where she’s reported to have attended college for a semester when she disappeared last fall. But she’s also done impromptu shows in LA, New York, Nebraska, Louisiana, and Oregon. Who knows where she’ll show up next?”

The TV goes silent, the little mute symbol appearing in the corner of the screen, but I don’t care, because they’ve obviously moved on to gossip about some other celebrity.

When I glance at Carla again, she’s just staring at me. “Since when do you keep up with what’s going on with Charlotte James? I thought you hated her.”

I sit back, rubbing at the back of my neck. “Ah, no. I never hated her, exactly.”

Carla quirks an eyebrow at me, eloquently expressing her disbelief and disdain with one simple gesture.

“Okay, fine. But you know the saying that there’s a fine line between love and hate?”

“I take it you’ve bounced back to the love side?”

I shrug again. “I’m not sure I’d be willing to go that far …”yet. Again. Maybe someday?I keep those thoughts to myself. “But we’ve started talking again.”

Carla’s face changes from disdainful disbelief to undisguised interest. “When did that happen?”

“Uh, well, she was at my friend Lauren’s recital a few weeks ago. I saw her ducking out after with Gabby—”

---