Savor the Moment

by Dana Piccoli

  “Thank you. I think. That’s a compliment, right?”

  Jackie threw her head back and laughed. “Yes, it is. Beau is itchy, Nat. He wants to play new songs. What have you got for us?”

  She cocked her head. “Wait, your bow’s name is Beau?”

  Jackie narrowed her eyes. “Well of course it is. What kind of musician doesn’t give their instrument a proper name?”

  She looked over to where her guitar, Tiffany, sat in its stand. Jackie had her there.

  “I’m trying here. I know there’s got to be something in there,” She pointed to her head. “I mean, there always has been but it’s…stuck.”

  “You would have thought that bump to the head would have knocked something loose,” Jackie said, using Beau to point at Nat’s bump.

  Nat shrugged. “I guess it’s going to take something more than a knock on the noggin.”

  Jackie cleared her throat. “Maybe it’s not a something but a someone you need.”

  “Ha, please,” she laughed bitterly. “That’s how I got into this mess in the first place.”

  Jackie sighed and dropped Beau to her side. “I’m just saying maybe it’s time to allow yourself to be inspired again.”

  She shook her head and turned back to her music notebook. But as Jackie put Beau to work, Jackie’s words spun around Nat like the notes coming from her cello.

  Chapter Eight

  As Nat arrived at the yoga studio the following Saturday, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She figured it was Melissa, who had texted her a dozen times, so she let it be. She turned the corner into the changing room and secretly hoped to see the cute redhead again. Finding the locker room empty, she tossed her bag to the floor with a sigh, sat down and fiddled with her mat.

  “How’s your head?”

  The voice startled her. The redhead walked toward her from behind a set of lockers, undoing her ponytail. Nat sat wide-eyed, mouth slightly agape.

  “I’m so sorry, did I scare you?” she asked, obviously embarrassed.

  “Uh, oh, no… Well maybe a little,” Nat admitted with a smile, which she hoped would put the redhead at ease.

  “Well, I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who didn’t get the message.”

  She offered a confused look, and the redhead lifted her phone. “The teacher had to cancel at the last minute. Looks like we’re the only ones here,” she said, motioning to the empty changing room. “So…your head?”

  Nat touched the bump she’d sustained the week before. “Oh, this? Pshh. This is nothing. I’ve nearly regained my motor functions. I’m fine.”

  “I’m Madeline LaDuke. Maddy,” she said, arm outstretched to Nat.

  Nat stood and took Maddy’s hand in her own.

  “I’m Nat…Chambers.”

  Her face didn’t register anything other than a warm smile. Nat was used to being recognized and she was at once relieved and disappointed.

  “Well, Nat…Chambers, it looks like I’ve got some time to kill before my shift now that we won’t be sun salutating. I don’t suppose you’d like to join me for a cup of coffee?”

  A flutter rose in Nat’s stomach. “I think I could swing that.”

  “Great, lemme just grab my jacket.”

  She admired Maddy as she gathered her belongings. Her shoulder length red hair hung in loose, beautiful ringlets. Maddy’s yoga clothes accentuated her petite frame perfectly, a V-neck T-shirt revealing a smattering of freckles on her chest.

  “Okay, ready?” Maddy asked as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

  Nat shot up from her seat and hoped Maddy didn’t notice her staring. “Yep, awesome.”

  They stopped by the coffee shop downstairs ordering a latte for Nat and a hot chocolate for Maddy. There was no seating available, so Maddy suggested they take a walk.

  “I absolutely love New York this time of year, don’t you? Right after the snow starts to melt and the air changes. There’s this kind of stillness.” Maddy turned and flashed a smile at Nat, who couldn’t help but notice how full and pink Maddy’s lips were against the bright white of her teeth.

  “Hot chocolate, I see,” Nat observed. “Not a coffee person?”

  “I just have a wicked sweet tooth. I guess that explains how I ended up a pastry chef.”

  “A pastry chef? Wow, I can’t even make pancakes so you have just blown my mind.” Maddy laughed at her self-deprecation. “Where do you practice this dark magic, may I ask?”

  “Touché, it’s on the Lower East Side.”

  “I know Touché. It’s one of the hottest tickets in town! I do believe I read about these epic deserts of yours in the Daily Press. Didn’t the reviewer give you six stars or something?”

  “Five and a half, but who’s counting? The bastard,” Maddy said with a crooked smile.

  Nat noticed a free bench and motioned to her.

  “So, what do you do, Nat, dot dot dot, Chambers?”

  “I’m not gonna live that down now, am I?” she asked with a sigh. “I’m a musician.”

  “That sounds exciting. What do you play?”

  “Guitar, but I’m a vocalist when it comes down to it. I’m a perfectly mediocre guitarist, so I just sing loud enough so no one notices.”

  “That sounds like a genius move.”

  “Why, thank you,” she said with exasperation. “I’m glad someone finally recognized that.”

  Maddy giggled and took a sip of her hot chocolate. When she looked back at Nat, she had a small peak of whipped cream on her nose. Nat bit her lip, trying not to smile.

  “What?” asked Maddy, her eyes still fixed on Nat.

  “Uh, well, you have a little bit of whipped cream right here.” She took a napkin and gently wiped the cream from Maddy’s nose. Her cheeks grew as red as her hair, but the two women’s gazes remained locked. Maddy’s eyes were beautiful. They weren’t quite green, definitely not brown, something golden and gorgeous.

  “Hazel,” Nat murmured out loud, accidentally.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Oh, uh nothing. I was just thinking about hazelnuts. Do you make anything with hazelnuts?” Nat blurted, hoping to save some face.

  “Not at the moment, but I like to rotate the menu every week or so. Summer is the best time because everything is fresh and in season. I try to stay true to that whenever possible. In the fall, I love to go upstate and pick a ton of apples and feature those.”

  “That’s excellent. Nothing like a New York apple.”

  “I know it’s a cliché but it’s so true,” Maddy said, her natural blush looking not unlike that on a perfect apple.

  “Do you live in the neighborhood?” Nat asked, hoping she didn’t sound like a creep. She stopped herself from saying, “I promise not to stalk you.”

  Maddy shook her head. “No, I live on the Lower East Side. I just really like this studio. It’s not super pretentious and the teacher is a bit of a mommi.”

  “Mommy?”

  “Yeah, mommi with an ‘I.’ It’s like the lesbian version of a daddy.”

  Nat couldn’t help but laugh. “Well thank you for this education today. Come to think of it, lesbians do love them some middle-aged women.”

  “It’s the truth. This is a conversation I was not expecting to be having today.” Maddy giggled.

  “Well, who’s your favorite middle-aged Mommi, then?”

  “Mmm, Cate Blanchett for sure. What about you?”

  “I’m going to say…Viola Davis.”

  “Good choice.”

  “So besides fantasizing about older women, what do you like to do for fun?” Nat wondered if this question was too bold. Did Maddy think she was going to ask her out? Was she going to ask Maddy out?

  Maddy took a long sip of her hot chocolate. “Honestly, I spend a lot of time at work and when I’m not there, I’m trying to come up with recipes at home. Basically, I’m a pastry nerd.”

  “Well, turns out, that is one of my favorite genres of Lifetime Christmas movie,” she said, letting
herself flirt a little.

  “Oh my god, you watch those?” Maddy asked, without any sarcasm in her voice.

  “Yes?” she replied, hoping it wouldn’t pin her as a total cheeseball.

  “I freaking love those.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief.

  Maddy continued. “Too bad there are no gay holiday rom-coms. Can you imagine?”

  “I totally could. It Came Upon a Midnight Queer.”

  Maddy guffawed. “Or how about, Make the Yuletide Really Gay?”

  “Good one. Wait, how about, Meet Me Under The Mistletoe, You Big Ol’ Lesbian?”

  “That one is a bit on the nose, but I would totally watch it,” Maddy said. “My stomach hurts from laughing.”

  Nat loved the way Maddy looked when she laughed. It was really beautiful and her laughter was contagious. “Me too. I can keep going if you like.”

  Maddy checked the time on her phone. “I would really love too but I need to get to the restaurant and start prepping for tonight’s service.”

  “Oh sure, sure,” Nat said as they rose from the bench.

  “Thank you for joining me for the walk. It was really nice to talk to you. You should come down to Touché sometime. This week, it’s all about huckleberries that I preserved last fall.”

  “Huckleberries, well, how can a girl possibly pass that up?”

  “I prep during the day, but I’m usually there after six as well. I hope to see you again.” Maddy reached out and placed her hand lightly on Nat’s forearm and gave it a quick squeeze.

  “Me too, Maddy. Have a good one.” She watched her walk away, her crimson curls flowing behind her.

  Nat’s phone buzzed again in her pocket, interrupting the view, but seeing it was her manager, she answered. “Oliver Vargas, what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Nat, sweetness, are you feeling well rested?”

  “Not too shabby. By the way, you are a god among men. That Sauvignon was divine. Eddie sends his love.”

  “Oh man, that damn cat is always looking at me like I’m his next meal. Listen, let’s talk tomorrow about the new album. While we’re on the subject, how’s the writing coming along?”

  She winced at the question. She’d been suffering this major bout of writer’s block since ending things with Melissa. It was a claustrophobic, helpless feeling, like having one arm tied behind her back.

  “Good, great. Coming along.”

  “That’s what I love to hear. How about two? I’ll take to you lunch.”

  “Well if lunch is involved I can certainly clear my dance card. Text me the details. I’ll see you then.”

  As Nat slipped the phone back in her pocket, she felt guilty for not being honest with Oliver. He’d ask her more about these new songs, but hopefully, she could come up with something satisfying to tell him. She put it out of her mind for then, because the thought of Maddy in her yoga pants was far more pleasant. She lamented not getting Maddy’s number. She was still buzzing from their conversation, and while it was brief, she knew she wanted to see her again—soon.

  She pulled her phone back out. “Hello, this is Nat Chambers. I’d like to make a reservation, dinner for one. When’s the next availability? Tomorrow at 10 is perfect. Thanks.” She smiled dreamily to herself. “Huckleberries.”

  Chapter Nine

  Nat paused in front of her reflection in the restaurant window and ran her hand through her hair. Hair that somehow always had the ability to look like she’s just rolled out of bed, no matter how much expensive product she put in it. She sighed as her messy, dark brown bangs refused to cooperate with her fingers rugged urging. Oliver was always so put together in his fine, yet playful suits, and she was already nervous about seeing him. She debated confessing to her lack of artistic prosperity. She gave her hair one last fruitless ruffle. Fuck it. I’m a musician.

  She pushed open to the door of the restaurant and was greeted by a young, attractive hostess with jet-black hair, red lipstick and five-inch heels. The hostess smirked and sized her up. She felt slightly out of place in her fitted black leather pants and distressed red tank top, but thankfully she’d grabbed a tailored black blazer as she headed out the door.

  The hostess seemed to approve or at least recognized her, because she breathily announced, “Good afternoon, Miss Chambers. Please follow me.”

  She followed her through the restaurant until she saw a familiar face. Oliver stood to greet her. He looked handsome in his salmon button down and camel colored light wool pants.

  “Natalia! You are only fifteen minutes late today. I’m so proud of you,” he teased as he kissed her cheek.

  “I know, that’s like arriving early in my world.”

  He motioned for her to sit. The hostess placed her menu in front of her and let her hand graze her shoulder as she walked back to the stand. He raised his eyebrows at her and snorted a laugh. She shrugged her shoulders and he shook his head.

  “How the hell do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Exactly.”

  She rolled her eyes. The waiter came by and Oliver took the liberty of ordering for them. “A Remy VSOP and ginger and a Cobb Salad for me. The lady will have a club soda with two limes and a warm spinach salad.”

  “No onions,” they said in unison.

  He thanked the waiter. “So, let’s get down to business, shall we? I’ve got big news.”

  “Big, eh? Big can be awesome, or very, very scary.”

  “This big is very awesome. Trauma University recently was picked up for distribution in the UK, Germany and France. It started airing this week and already we’ve seen a big boost in your online sales.” He paused as the waiter delivered their drinks.

  She took a long sip of her soda. “So yes, that is great news. What now?”

  “Well, ideally, we get you back on tour as soon as possible, this time with a few dates in Europe.”

  She threw her head back. “Oooolliver. We just got back from tour. Three months on the road. We need a break. I need a break.”

  “I get that, I do,” he said as he reached a hand across the table and placed it on hers. “But we need to strike while the iron is hot. This could mean big things for you. A whole new audience.”

  “When?” she asked curtly.

  “Three months from now. We would kick it off with a quick domestic show in Philly for the Watershed Club’s twenty-year anniversary. I know you played some of your first big shows there, so that’s a given. Then off to Europe for a three-week wham, bam, thank you ma’am. Then when you get back, we will get you recording that new album. What do you say?”

  “I say I hope you chip one of your veneers on that Cobb salad,” she replied with exaggerated spite. “I have to talk to Paul and Jackie first.”

  “Already done. They’re on board.” The waiter placed their salads in front of them.

  “Fantastic, I’ve lost control over my own band. Fine. Let’s do this,” she said, knowing full well that she didn’t have much choice in the matter.

  He picked up his fork and gave her a big wink. “How’s the new material coming along?”

  “Great. It’s great. It’s got a lot of potential. I think you’ll like it,” she lied again, this time feeling less guilty about it. “Um, can you excuse me for a moment? I need to run to the ladies’ room.”

  He nodded and tipped his drink in her direction. She made a beeline to the bathroom and braced herself on the sink. Another tour. The travel, the bad food, the late nights. Her heart just wasn’t in it. Then for some reason, her mind flashed to Maddy, whipped cream on her nose. She felt warm all over and she couldn’t help but smile, knowing she’d see her later tonight at Touché.

  Just as she turned the knob of the faucet, the hostess walked in. Nat smiled politely, and before she even had the chance to excuse herself, the hostess pushed her against the wall and kissed her hard on the mouth. Nat, completely taken aback, just stood frozen as the hostess slipped a piece of paper in her pocket and whispered in her ear
, “I’m Selina. Text me.” She walked away as quickly as she had appeared. Nat looked in the mirror, red lipstick smeared on her face. She shook her head as she wiped off the evidence of this bizarre little encounter. She reached into her pocket and took out Selina’s number. She thought about the freckles on Maddy’s pale shoulders and crumpled the paper and tossed it in the trash on her way out the door.

  Back at the table the conversation turned to numbers and tour details. She picked at her salad, answering Oliver’s questions and carefully dodging specific questions about her new material. After the check was paid and she was ready to leave, Oliver stopped her.

  “One more thing, Natalia.”

  She glanced at him sideways. “Hmm, you only call me Natalia when I’m in trouble or you are.”

  He dismissively shook his head, but she was unconvinced. “This would be not until the next summer, after the Euro tour and the new album recording. After a nice long, deserved break.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Well, I was approached by Melissa Hartford’s agent and they want to give the joint tour another go…”

  She tossed her napkin on the table and stood. “No longer listening.”

  “Just hear me out. The tour made you both a lot of money and it’s a purely practical option. I know that you have issues with Melissa, but—”

  “No, Oliver, you apparently don’t know,” she whispered angrily. “Because if you did know, if you knew me at all, you wouldn’t dream of putting me in this position.” With that, she turned around and walked away.

  He called after her. “Nat, I’m sorry. Forget it. I’ll tell them we pass.”

  “Damn fucking right we’ll pass,” she called over her shoulder before swinging open the door, avoiding eye contact with Selina on her way out.

  Out on the street, her head was spinning. It’s not that she wanted or missed Melissa. She just wanted to be done feeling so bad about her. She had never been betrayed like that before and the thought of it made her sick, not to mention she grieved for her decimated friendship with Lara. She clenched her fists and shoved them into her pockets. There would be no escaping Melissa Hartford. Her face would be on album covers and magazines, her songs playing over speakers at hipster department stores.