Page 107 of Crescendo

Papa’s eyes filled with tears too—at the memory, but also, I was pretty sure, with pride that I’d made it back there. He swallowed and glanced at Lydia. “You should have heard them together on their clarinets. In the orchestra, they played beautifully together. At home, it was like they were arguing in woodwind. Both of them trying to be better, louder, faster—”

“Hey,” I protested weakly, “Callum was the one who always tried to go louder.”

Lydia laughed. “Oh, you just wanted to be better and faster.”

“Um. Yes.”

They both laughed and Papa finally dropped his hands as Dad rejoined us. They shared a glance before Papa looked at me and asked Lydia, “Have you heard her on the clarinet?”

I choked on the air. He wasn’t just asking if I’d played it for her. He was asking if I’d figured out how to play it at all again.

Lydia squeezed my hand tighter. “Not yet. But I’ve heard her on piano, cello, a whole bunch of other instruments, and she’s a real talent. It’s actually annoying how no matter which instrument I throw at her, she just picks it up and plays like she was made for it.” She looked at me. “If I didn’t love hearing her play so much, I’d be desperately jealous.”

Dad smiled at her. “Oh, well, I’m sure she’s feeling the same way about you. We know how great a musician you are.”

Papa lit up. “Speaking of which.”

He ran off to join the band that had been setting up in the corner. Given that he hadn’t acknowledged them, nor they him, I could only assume he’d texted them to… explain my random appearance with one of the world’s greatest composers and that he needed a minute with us before helping set up? Who could say with Papa.

“He’s in the band?” Lydia asked, looking between me and Dad.

“He is,” Dad said, watching after Papa with a dreamy expression. They’d always been so in love. I’d known it for years, but I was finally starting to really understand it.

In my line of work, I saw more than enough couples who fell apart when things got tough. I didn’t blame them, but they’d shown me how rare it was for a couple to go through what my dads had and stay on the same page. Grief destroyed you like that. Now, I was finally starting to understand what it felt like to need someone who stuck with you through all of your worst days, through the worst things you could ever feel, and to keep caring, keep loving you through all of it.

“Welcome,” Papa said into the microphone, pulling the attention of the room. “We’re so glad to see so many of you here again this week, and we’ll be getting started in just a few minutes, but… I had to give a special shoutout to my daughter, Ella, who is joining us tonight, and let you all know that she’s brought her very talented musician and composer friend, Lydia Howard Fox, with her. You might know her from… oh, every movie ever. Now, I haven’t spoken to her about this, but I’m hoping we’ll be able to coax Lydia up to join us on stage tonight.” He grinned widely at her, holding out a violin.

Lydia laughed and looked at me. “Did you set this up?”

I shrugged. “Not exactly. I did think it was a possibility, but I really was just bringing you here to listen to some live music and meet my dads. But, you know, Imighthave mentioned that you were incredible at improvised composition.”

“Oh, youmighthave mentioned that?”

I hummed. “Maybe.”

She shook her head as Papa called, “So, what do you say, Lydia? Can we get you on stage?”

She laughed, pressed another quick kiss to my temple and stood up, throwing her arms out. “Well, how could I resist an adoring audience?”

The gathered crowd cheered. I wondered if all of them knew who she was. It was a distinct possibility—and if they didn’t, they could easily search her name online—but, even if they didn’t, they’d know Papa well enough to trust him if he said he had a world-class composer with him.

Dad scooched his seat a little closer to mine as they finished setting up—Lydia needing no time at all to prepare herself—and I knew he was watching me as the band started up and Lydia played along like she’d always belonged there.

It wasn’t her usual style, but she knew exactly what to do, her violin adding a depth and complexity I hadn’t realised the songs needed before. And she smiled and laughed with my dad and his band members as they played, the audience rapt with attention.

She was so beautiful, so alive up there, drinking in the creativity of the moment, the audience, the band. She played like she’d been built to perform and, despite being the newest member of the team, they somehow seemed to coalesce around her, like her playing became the beating heart of the group and she was the conductor taking them through their own songs. It was unlike anything else I’d ever seen.

Dad reached to stroke my hair. “She really is something.”

“Yeah,” I breathed. “She is.”

“You’re worried about losing her, huh?”

I tore my eyes away from Lydia to look at him, and I swallowed hard. What would be the point in denying it? “I am, yeah.”

He nodded, his expression full of understanding. “You could ask her to stay.”

I shook my head. “Her life is in LA. She can’t give that up and I wouldn’t ask her to.”

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