Page 127 of Crescendo

“I’m wildly understating it. You know you could make it as a composer, right? The work you do is transcendental.” I laughed, trying to push the thick knot of feelings down in my throat. “You could give me a serious run for my money. Our names together on programs everyone is lining up to listen to. Me in front of an orchestra conducting your piece…”

“You’re being patently ridiculous.”

“I’m not.”

She was quiet, a thousand unspoken words hanging there, before, softly, she said, “And maybe, if that happens, people would… know our names together.”

Something jumped in my chest, a nervous sensation racing. “Yeah?” I said, trying to sound casual, cool.

“Maybe then, we could… be… together.” The last word slipped out, just a ghost, and I gripped the phone tighter, closing my eyes, sinking back in the couch.

Maybe then.So that was it, huh? In some distant future where we were both great musicians,thenwe could be together. “I think I’d like that,” I said softly.

“Me too.”

I took a long breath. “I’m really damn proud of you, Ella.”

“It’s all because of you, you know,” she whispered. “You helped me find… music again. I won’t ever be able to express what that means.”

“You will be able to. In fact, you just did. You always did speak loud and clear in your songs.”

She laughed, a small sound thick with oncoming tears. I probably had to get a move on before I started crying too. “You have literally never stopped flattering me.”

“I’m only telling you the truth. Ella—I need to go. I have a lot—alot—of work that needs doing. But… thank you. For sharing. The song. It’s… well. I’d tell you, but I think the world will tell you for you.”

“Lydia—wait.” Ella’s voice was suddenly anxious, tensing. “Is this… is this goodbye?”

I swallowed hard, hugging myself with one arm, clutching the phone to my ear for dear life with the other. “Of course not,” I said softly. “We’re going to be great musicians.”

“And… until then?”

“And until then, I’m going to let you know how my songs go. And I want to hear how yours go, too.”

It was a long, loaded silence before, in a thick voice, Ella said, “Thank you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Thankyou.I always knew you’d be the spark to find my inspiration again.”

∞∞∞

The rest of the day went by in a long, streaky blur. I met with Natália after her meeting with the producer, and we talked strategy, went over the talks we’d had with the studio, and we knuckled down and got back to work digging up the whole score. It was a damn masterpiece, but it was a masterpiece that was killing me, drawing every last bit of my heart and soul out and plunging it into the scores. Natália pretended she didn’t see when I shuddered at the piano, curling my fingers into the keys,and she made up an excuse about going to get more drinks to give me a minute to cry in solitude.

Natália called it quits eventually, at my request, when she was clearly flagging, trying a dozen times to play in the same sequence on the keys and making the same two mistakes each time. I shut the laptop in front of her, a hand on her shoulder.

“Melinda’s getting back from work soon,” I said. “And from the texts she was sending me when she was slacking off at lunchtime, she’s been dealing with some stressful coworkers today. She could use you there.”

Natália gave me puppy-dog eyes. “Are you sending me away so you can overwork yourself without anybody stopping you?”

“Yes, butalsoI want you and Melinda to be happy.”

She folded her hands in her lap, looking down. “Um… thank you. For being happy for us.”

Ah, dammit, I was going to cry. I could at least cry on her. I pulled her into a hug, burying my face in her shoulder, and I squeezed the life out of her while she returned the favor. After a minute, I laughed, and thinly, I managed to say, “I can’t believe Melinda finally got a partner.”

“Hey! Meli is amazing!”

“She even got a partner who thinks she’s amazing. What a world.”

She pouted—I was still buried in her shoulder, but I couldhearthe pout even before she spoke. “You should have something happy like that, too.”

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