Samantha sighed and reached down to take his hands in hers. “Liron, I know my sister did a number on you, and because of that I know some part of you is always waiting for the other shoe to drop. You believe that Melody is too good to be true, that sooner or later, it’s all going to end and you’re going to be alone and heartbroken again.”
He averted his eyes, his heart aching dully in his chest at that possibility, and at the truth of her words.
She shook her head and gave him a small smile. “You’ll never get anywhere dwelling on things that have long since been and gone. Elizabeth did what she did ages ago. Melody is not her. Melody loves you. This will work.”
Her conviction bolstered him, and he sucked in his breath, squaring his shoulders in some kind of gesture of mock courage. He met Samantha’s eyes. “If it does work….” At her stern expression, he cleared his throat. “When this works, I’m going to need something to eventually bring me back home. So, if you could do me a favor, and say, a couple hours or so after I go through the portal, you and Ray do something to bring me back. Scream, yell, dance a jig. I don’t know. Just, something that will get my attention. Considering the way it used to work with Melody, and providing it works the same on that end of things, the fact that you are in my home and causing a ruckus should be enough to trigger the portal.”
She nodded. “All right. A couple hours, you say?”
“Somewhere around there. That should be more than enough time in the human world to get everything settled.”
“Consider it done, Liron.”
His heart softened, and he filled with warmth and affection for the woman in front of him. “Sam….” He sighed and shook his head, at a loss for any adequate words. “Thank you so much for everything over these last couple months. I….”
She shushed him softly and gave him a warm smile. “Liron, you were my family once. I would like to think you still are. I only wish I’d stopped being such a coward sooner.”
He smiled. “I was just as much of a coward. None of that matters now. I’m grateful to have you and Ray in my life.”
A playful expression lit up her face. “And hopefully your Melody is better at chess than you. I didn’t think anyone could be worse than Ray ‘til you came along.”
Liron chuckled and felt momentarily better about everything that was about to occur. Samantha had a way of taking all the dreariness out of a situation, and he was grateful for that.
He had done everything he could on his end.
Now, all he had to do was wait.
And hope.
* * * *
Melody wasn’t quite sure what she was feeling as she stood in the wings backstage, waiting for the concert to begin. The orchestra was playing one piece—a Rachmaninoff—then they would perform hers before the twenty minute intermission.
She wasn’t nervous about the piece. Not really. She had rehearsed so many times with everyone that she could conduct it inside, outside, backwards, on her head, and in her sleep. That wasn’t an issue.
She was so terrified that what she’d created would fall short, that her music would fail to bring Liron to her. Everyone kept telling her how wonderful it was, but she had a hard time comprehending that she could create something remarkable enough to do Liron justice. And she knew that if she failed, the last remaining piece of her heart would shatter into irrevocable damage.
The last two months had been lonely without Liron, but she’d had a lot to keep her busy. Rehearsals and loose ends that needed to be tied up should everything go according to plan. Plus, she was at least able to speak with him in her dreams, which was better than nothing, regardless of how fleeting it was.
The orchestra was tuning up on stage as the audience filed in, and the hum of it filled her with memories of long ago. Somehow, they weren’t as horrendous as they had once been. She had been forced to confront so much of her past during this process.
So much of what she had been running from she’d had to meet head-on in order to get tasks accomplished integral to the running smoothly of the concert. It had been painful, but also strangely therapeutic. While she still felt the hole in her heart that her parents had once inhabited, it wasn’t as all-consuming as it had once been. Now, it was only a dull ache. Present, but not overwhelming. And it no longer centered itself around music. Fear of playing, of embracing what her parents had loved so much, had finally faded.
Suddenly, the lights in the house of the theatre dimmed and a hush fell over the audience. Melody’s stomach dipped and plummeted. There were so many things swirling around in her mind at once.
She didn’t want to mess up. That was a big one. Typical holy-cow-I’m-in-the-spotlight jitters. And she was afraid no one was going to like her music. While she knew not everyone had the same taste, she hoped the audience at least appreciated what it was and didn’t think it sounded like a sixth grader had been let loose in a music room and had decided to mesh all the instruments together in a terrible, jumbled mess.
All of the orchestra members assured her it didn’t sound like that, even the ones who had joined after the accident, hadn’t known her parents, and therefore, didn’t have to feel guilty if they told her how much it sucked. She supposed that should count for something, but she still felt apprehensive about unveiling her music to a theatre full of people. It was her life put to notes. It was personal. But, then again, she imagined all art was.
She wondered what her parents would think if they were alive. What would they think of her concerto? Of Liron? She smiled to herself. What was she thinking? They would have adored Liron, would probably have ended up going to live in his world also.
She could just imagine her happy-go-lucky father and her beautiful, eccentric mother in the marketplace letting loose with the other muses. Her mother would probably want one of the rebel muses to teach her how to fire dance.
She could see it all so clearly in her mind, and she wished with all her heart that they could be there to experience the magnificent world she had stumbled upon. Where creativity was embraced and cherished, where emotions weren’t taboo, and where gorgeous men produced sinfully erotic music when they touched you.
Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of Liron. This was her one chance—her only chance. If she messed this up, if she wasn’t good enough, she would never see him again, never touch him again. He would only exist in her dreams like some kind of insane person’s fantasy. So much was riding on this one moment….
She shook her head. She couldn’t think like that. She had to believe this would work, that all of this hadn’t been for nothing. She had to believe that when her twenty minutes of fame were over, Liron would be with her again, and they could begin their life together amidst art and music and splendor.
“Melody?”
She tore herself out of her thoughts and glanced up at the stage manager in front of her.
“You’re on after this announcement.”
It was only then that Melody heard the thunderous applause signaling the end of the first piece. Her heart kicked into double-time when she heard the music director’s voice echoing through the theatre.
“A year ago, this orchestra lost three members who were very dear to all of us. Eric and Anna Hoffman, our lead cellist and violinist, were killed in a tragic car accident, and their daughter, Melody Hoffman, our pianist, resigned her position with the Philharmonic shortly after.
“It is with great pleasure tonight that we welcome back Ms. Hoffman, but no longer as our pianist. Tonight, she takes the stage as our guest conductor to lead us in her own composition, a concerto entitled, Liron’s Melody.
“So, without further ado, please welcome Ms. Melody Hoffman.”
The applause spurred her into action, and Melody sucked in a deep breath before striding out onto the stage. She shook the music director’s hand with a smile, then took the baton he offered and went to her place up in front of the orchestra.
She swallowed hard, closed her eyes, and took a deep, calming breath. This is just like reh
earsal, she told herself as she raised her hands to the ready position. She told herself not to pay attention to all the eyes staring at her, both in front and behind. This is it. Your one shot. You can do this, Mel. For Liron. For your parents. For yourself. It’s now or never.
She sucked in her breath and counted a four-count before the orchestra launched into the first movement of her piece.
There were three movements that made up Melody’s composition, depicting three distinct stages of her life. The first movement was entitled, “Tragedy,” for obvious reasons. It was mournful and haunting, dreary in its musical rendition of the year Melody had spent aching for a life she would never again know.
The second movement was entitled, “Awakening,” again, for obvious reasons. This one also began with a Gothic flair, but gradually grew into a melodious dedication to Liron and the beauty he had brought back to her life. It included lively Celtic elements, an ode to the wonderful night they’d spent in the marketplace, and the end left the audience with a feeling of hope and joy.
The third movement was entitled, “Future,” and was the most complex of the three. It featured every section of the orchestra at some point and combined them all into a sweeping, atmospheric finale that represented the future Melody wanted to have with Liron. She had tried her best to incorporate instruments that would reflect the sounds of nature—thunder, the ocean, wind in the trees, as well as all the classical complexities of man-made instruments. It sounded like an epic love song, which she imagined it was, and it ended with passion and conviction.
She lost herself in the music, reliving every part of her life that had inspired it. It was different playing it for an audience than it was in rehearsal. Everything felt rawer, truer somehow.
She felt Liron within the notes, just as she had felt her parents, and just as she felt herself. He was with her. She knew this. He was with her because he had become a part of her. He had given her back her love of music. He had brought her back to life. His flame would burn within her for all time.
When the music came to an end, Melody’s heart pounded both from exertion and emotion. The tremendous applause from the audience let her know that at least they hadn’t hated it, and a lump of overwhelming emotion clogged her throat when each member of the orchestra started to stand, one by one, and applaud as well.
Tears burned behind her eyes and she gave the musicians a smile and a nod of appreciation and thanks. Slowly, she turned around to face the audience, expecting a miracle.
But all she saw was a sea of strangers. No familiar face stood out among them. She glanced up to the balcony, but it was impossible to see anything up there but shadow. Her heart dropped so low she didn’t know if it was still in her body. An aching, gaping hole opened up where her heart had once been and the emotional tears she had been fighting a moment ago turned to tears of profound despair.
If the music had worked, if the portal had been opened, Liron would be somewhere in her line of sight. It had opened for her right in his living room. But he was nowhere. He was gone.
She had failed.
Melody went through the motions of bowing to the audience and going through the required polite formalities, but once she stepped off the stage and the lights in the house went up for intermission, something worse than the wave of heartbreak she had felt swarmed her. Emptiness. Numbness. Her tears evaporated and she suddenly felt nothing but dismal cold.
She walked back to the dressing room she had been given and closed the door behind her, requiring privacy. She sat down in front of the mirror and stared at her reflection. She’d opted to wear the traditional black of a classical concert and was in a long, elegant dress that hugged her body in all the right places. It had a low back and a deep sweetheart neckline. It was sexy enough to turn some heads, but classy enough for the event. At her neck, she’d decided to wear a garnet necklace since she’d left the one her mother had given her back in Liron’s home. She’d left her blonde hair down in gentle waves. She’d done smoky eye makeup with a soft blush, and had felt beautiful upon leaving the house.
But it had all been for nothing. Her music had not brought Liron to her, and her heart would never beat normally again. It would never hear his rapturous song, and she would never feel his music surging through her veins.
Heaviness unlike anything she had ever felt pressed on her chest and her shoulders sagged in defeat. She suddenly felt so very tired.
A knock on the door made her jump, and she looked up to see the stage manager stick her head in. “Melody, you have someone here to see you.”
Her heart tripped over itself trying to change from its sluggish beat to beating way too fast. “Send him in,” she said breathlessly.
Before the stage manager could even get out of the way, Nikki came bulldozing through the door. Melody’s heart fell back down into that hollow place. “Nikki,” she said. She forced a smile, hoping it would hide the flat tone her voice had to it.
“Oh my goodness, Melody! That music was wonderful! I would have waited until after the show to tell you, but I just couldn’t. I had to come and see you. That was so amazing!”
Nikki was dressed in a sunny yellow dress with her dark hair pulled back. She looked stunning, and Melody gave a small, sad smile, happy at least to have her friend with her. “Thanks,” she murmured.
Nikki frowned. “Is he here?”
Melody swallowed hard and looked up at her friend. She shook her head, feeling tears threaten again.
Nikki knelt down in front of Melody and took her hands. “He will be.”
The heavy feeling on Melody’s chest started to become constricting and crushing. “I don’t think so, Nikki…”
She sighed. “Look, Mel. I’m not even going to pretend that I don’t know something strange is going on. I can’t place my finger on it anyway. It’s just a feeling I get. But I know whatever is going on between you and Liron is not conventional, is it?”
Melody glanced into her friend’s brown eyes and shook her head.
Nikki squeezed Melody’s hands. “I have no idea what that means. Part of me thinks maybe I don’t even want to know…do I want to know?”
“Probably not,” Melody said with a watery giggle.
She smiled. “Okay, I’m going to take your word on that. But that same instinct telling me there is something completely bizarre about this entire situation is also telling me that you shouldn’t give up. He’ll be here, Melody. I know it.”
One tear succeeded in escaping, and it ran a track down Melody’s cheek. “No, he won’t, Nik. I blew it. He was depending on me and I blew it.”
She frowned. “Blew it how?”
Just then, the stage manager came back in again. “The intermission is over in five more minutes, Melody,” she said. “The music director, as well as the entire orchestra, has asked me to tell you that they would like you to play an encore after the last piece. That is, if you happen to have something prepared.”
Melody stared at the woman for a long moment. “They want me to play?”
The stage manager nodded with a smile. “I don’t think you really understand how much you and your family were loved here.”
Melody let out a long, loud exhale and tossed the idea around for a minute. Her first instinct was to decline. The pressure was too much and it was too short of notice. She had no idea what she would even perform.
But as she mulled on it, she knew exactly what she would play. And she knew she had to do it. She had nothing left to lose, and regardless of the fact that she had failed Liron, she couldn’t continue to dwell in the past. She had to say goodbye to the life she had once known. It was the only way she could move forward. She had learned that through all of this, if nothing else.
She glanced at Nikki, then back up to the stage manager. “All right, I’ll do it. I have something I can play.”
Chapter Twenty
The silence of the theatre was deafening as she sat at the piano that had been set up on the stage for her encore. Her finge
rs were poised over the keys, and everyone was waiting. It felt like time was moving through cold honey. Her breathing sounded insanely loud and her heartbeat drowned out everything else.
The music director had announced her after the last piece of music, saying, “Please welcome Ms. Hoffman back to the stage for one final performance.”
She’d smiled, walked tall out to the piano, and took her seat. No one would know that inside her, one world was ending and another one was fading, leaving her with empty space and nothingness. A blank slate. She had no idea where she was going to go from here.
But it didn’t matter right now. She would have to deal with the specifics soon enough. Now, all that she needed to do was play this piece of music. She needed to heal from the losses of the past and grieve for the loss in her present. To do any of that she needed to play.
This piece.
Play.
She drew in a deep breath and her fingers descended onto the keys, playing the notes she knew so well and had shied away from for so long. The beginning measures of Adagio in G Minor began to fill the theatre. As she played, memories of her parents flooded her mind, but strangely, none of them were of their funeral, which is what she had equated the song with ever since then.
They were of her childhood and all the laughter and love she had experienced with them, all the musical adventures. Memories of every concert she had ever played in middle school, high school, at Juilliard, and how her mom and dad were always in the first row cheering the loudest. She remembered every Saturday music session, every rehearsal for the Philharmonic, every opera and ballet and music concert they had gone to see together. She remembered the beauty and the light her parents had brought into her life instead of the sorrow and blackness that had come with their departure.
She lost herself in the notes of the music, gave herself over to it completely. She played like it was the last piece of music she would ever perform. And she whispered a silent goodbye in her heart, a final farewell to her parents who were gone, but would never be forgotten. It wasn’t them she was saying goodbye to. It was the grief that had been her constant companion ever since the accident. She didn’t need it anymore. She could finally let it go.
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