Page 21 of Margot
“Hello, Sutton. I’m Mary Richardson. I’m the artistic coordinator with the New York Philharmonic.” I couldn’t hear over the insane roaring in my ears.
Did she say the New York Philharmonic?
My mouth was sand and my tongue was useless. I dug down deep somewhere and answered her.
“Hi!”
That was way too chipper.
“So good to speak with you. I would like to personally invite you to be a guest pianist and perform Ravel’s Concerto in G major with the Philharmonic. We’ve heard your Ravel pieces and they are truly unmatched, Sutton.”
I was unable to speak for a full two minutes it seemed. Mary thought I’d hung up on her. She said hello enough times to snap me out of my trance, finally. “Yes, um. Wow. Oh my god. Of course, I’ll be a guest pianist.” I pressed my hand to my chest and realized all the windows in the car had turned foggy from my heavy breathing. Tingles rushed over my entire body from my scalp to my toes.
“Wonderful! I will send you all the information you need. I just need your email address and home address.”
My voice shook as I rattled off my information for her. “Thank you so much for agreeing to play with us here in New York. We look forward to working with you.”
“Thank you! Thank you so much.” I smiled so hard that my cheeks burned and ached down to the muscle. I ended the call and let out a scream so sharp it was a miracle that I didn’t shatter the windshield.
My heart pounded and knocked against my chest begging to be free. I had to get out of the car and go in the house so I could properly express how excited I was.
Now I knew exactly what true happiness felt like. I was living in it.
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