Nocturne

by Andrea Randall

  But I couldn’t. He didn’t want that.

  I swallowed. Why did he have to be here? Why didn’t Madeline warn me? Ugh, she wouldn’t know to warn me, I guess, given she knew nothing of the rumors from the past semester. That was long gone, and we were both adults. She certainly didn’t know about the kiss.

  I actually wanted to run. My throat was dry, my hands trembling, as Gregory gave a tight half smile and said, “Madeline ... S-Miss Marshall ... please come in.”

  He stepped back away from the door, and I followed Madeline in. My muscles were tight as I walked past him, and I had no idea where to set my eyes. As he reached to close the door behind me, he brushed against my shoulder. I jerked back a little bit. His touch lit me up more than I was comfortable with, given the setting. I forced my eyes anywhere but on him because I needed to cool the heat circling around my neck.

  “It’s very good to see you again,” he said in a low rumble.

  My breath caught a little, and I whispered, “You too, Mr. Fitzgerald.”

  Madeline gave Gregory an annoyed smile. “I don’t think the two of you need to stand on ceremony any more. After all, she’s on the faculty this summer.”

  Gregory’s eyes flashed at Madeline, then back to me. He nodded, and spoke in a low, tense voice, as his eyes locked on mine. Their bright crystal reflection made my heart race. “Of course. Savannah.”

  Pulling my shoulders back slightly to fake some confidence, I nodded. “Gregory. Nice to see you.” Smiling because I’d made his eyes widen a little at my response, I shuffled by him and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

  James met us in the living room. “Thank you both for coming.” He gave Madeline a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, and echoed the greeting with me. I liked James a lot, and I was interested to find out more about how he and Madeline maintained their friendship with Gregory for so long without doing him any physical harm.

  “Thank you for having us over. You have a lovely home. I brought this to have with dinner.” I held out my hand, giving him the bottle of Cabernet Franc I brought.

  James eyed the label. “Impressive. A vintage? From Villa Vignamaggio?” He looked at me, surprised.

  I nodded, my cheeks heating slightly. “It’s the best. Most of their vineyard produces Chianti, but, some of their land is reserved for this Cabernet Franc, and it’s incredible.” James held the bottle out to Gregory, who took it and studied it with the same reverence I’d seen him use while looking over sheet music. “Their vineyard is stunning in the summer,” I added with a smile.

  “You’ve been?” Gregory met my eyes, and I saw a flicker of life pass through his eyes. It was the same look I’d caught on his face when Nathan spun me around on the dance floor of that salsa club in Boston. Passion, maybe? Internally I caught myself about to roll my eyes, wondering if he was a wine snob, too. I decided, however, to play nice.

  “Yes,” I nodded, “my mom … I spent a lot of summers in Europe before entering the Institute.” I shrugged and held out my hand. “Shall I open it?” Wrapping my hand around the neck of the bottle, my pinky grazed his thumb, making me pull my hand away quickly.

  “I’ll do it.” Gregory turned on his heels and paced into the kitchen, where I heard the familiar pop of the cork a few seconds later.

  “Please, come sit. I’ll help Gregory with the wine, and I’ll bring out the food.” James gestured to the large black lacquered dining table.

  “This is a great place,” I whispered to Madeline as she sat next to me.

  “It’s been in James’s family for years. We all used to come here on break when we were in the conservatory together.” She smiled and looked around, undoubtedly scanning memories from years spent inside these walls. Her smile brightened, eyes creasing at the corners, as James walked into the room and handed her a wine glass.

  He set mine in front of me, but his eyes lingered for a second on Madeline. There was certainly something lovely passing between the two of them, but given my recent independent study on the origin of rumors, I decided to refrain from speculation. Luckily, Gregory appeared with our dinner.

  “Before we start,” James began our meal by raising his glass in the air, “I’d like to toast to good friends. Old and new, and time spent doing what we love. Music. Savannah,” James looked at me, and Gregory followed, “I’ve heard nothing but excellent things about your work here so far this summer. I can’t say that I’m surprised, given how talented you are. But, it takes a special kind of musician to both play and instruct with equal passion, as you’ve managed to do.”

  I started to blush. Not because of what James was saying, but because Gregory was nodding along with him.

  He thinks I’m talented? He thinks I’m talented.

  That thought spread a smile wide across my face, but it also made me berate myself a little. What did I care that a reclusive misanthrope musical prodigy thought I was talented. What’s wrong with me?

  “Thank you, James. Really, it’s been a great privilege to work with everyone the last few weeks. I’m looking forward to the orchestra work this week.” I took a large sip of my wine, anxious to turn the conversation away from me. “So, how long have you three known each other?”

  “Day one of classes at the conservatory.” Madeline shrugged and lifted her glass to her lips. “Our professor for that class was a bit of an ass—”

  “Yes, and James chose to lock horns with him as much as possible,” Gregory interjected, shaking his head. His tone was about as playful as I’d ever heard.

  “I guess I can appreciate that.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and I silently cursed the glass of wine that sat nearly empty beside my plate. Quickly, I took a bite of asparagus.

  James let out a full-throated laugh, and Madeline followed. My cheeks burned as I chewed, and I reached for my glass, swallowing the last bit of wine.

  “Oh,” my breath caught in my throat as I saw Gregory watching me carefully with an unreadable expression on his face, “I didn’t mean you were an ass … I mean … me challenging …”

  Mortified, I bit my lip and looked down.

  This made Madeline and James laugh even harder. And, right then, I wanted to fall through the floor.

  “It’s quite all right Miss Marsh—Savannah.” Gregory seemed to silence his own verbal stumble with a sip of his wine.

  “Okay, you two.” Madeline set her glass down and volleyed her gaze between Gregory and me. “Spring semester is over, and I think it’s time both of you get over that foolish little rumor.”

  Well. That did it. Gregory choked a bit on his wine, and I turned to Madeline, my eyes widening as my face got even hotter.

  “Madeline,” I whispered. “You know about that?”

  “Everyone knows, dear. It happens all the time, every semester. Different professor, different student, same story. Luckily this particular rumor was especially laughable and died down quickly.”

  Especially laughable? What exactly does that mean? I was a little irritated by that, and by the fact that I was irritated. Did she think I wasn’t good enough for him? Seriously? I rubbed my eyes, ignoring my eye makeup and set my forehead in my hands for a second. When I pulled my head up, I was thankful to find Gregory’s skin nearing a nice shade of crimson.

  “Madeline,” James cut in dryly, “could we talk about something else? I think … I think Gregory’s head is about to explode.”

  At once, Madeline and James burst into laughter again, and I couldn’t help myself. I folded my arms on the table, set my forehead on them, and began laughing along with them. What else was I supposed to do? It was all so ridiculous.

  Ridiculous.

  After a minute or so of the most uncomfortable laughter I’ve ever engaged in, Gregory cleared his throat. “Yes, we’re lucky the rumor was so … ridiculous, or that could have caused a lot of problems for both Savannah and myself.”

  It was like he plucked the word right from my brain. Ridiculous. I found myself thinking that i
t wasn’t that ridiculous of a rumor but stopped that train of thought. Quickly.

  James slapped Gregory on the shoulder. “Lighten up, Greg. It’s just us. We’ll stop, though. Promise.”

  James and Madeline tried to suppress their giggles. James got up and retrieved another bottle of wine from the kitchen.

  Greg. Hmm, I didn’t like how that sounded, really. Gregory didn’t seem to, either. His mouth pressed into a tight line as James said it. I guessed this was something James, and probably Madeline, did to tick him off. I was a bit relieved to know that it wasn’t just me he seemed to be uptight around. He was this way with friends he’d known for over ten years. But, why?

  Madeline placed her hand on my leg. “Sorry, Savannah, but you really need a thick skin for this business. Especially if you want to have a professional career.” She leaned back in her chair, swirling what was left of her Cab Franc around in her glass. “When you’re working incredibly long days with the same group of people you sometimes travel with … it becomes like a family. And, sometimes relationships develop,” she paused, still looking down, and a ghost of a grin crossed her lips, “but, more often than not, lots of whispers and rumors start. It’s just the nature of things. Add in a few hundred hormone-driven young adults and, bam, instant student-teacher rumors.”

  “That makes sense.” I nodded, unable to look at Gregory. But, I had to—I needed to be a grown-up about this. “Gregory,” I cleared my throat as all eyes fell on me.

  “Yes?” His eyes were intense, and I almost lost my words.

  “I just wanted to assure you that I had nothing to do with those rumors spreading—”

  He waved his hand, as he always did when he found something exasperating. “Please, Savannah, the thought never crossed my mind.”

  “Okay, I just wanted to make sure, because … I know how stressful things can get for students academically, and the lengths some students would go to get a good grade. I would never—”

  “Savannah,” he cut me off sternly but with a softness in his eyes I’d never seen. “I never once thought that of you. You’re an excellent student with a good head on your shoulders. Well, I suppose you’re no longer a student…” He cleared his throat before continuing. “Despite your regular disregard for my authority in the classroom—”

  “What?” I cut him off with a chuckle. Watching the corners of his mouth turn up in a grin, I caught on. “Oh, you’re baiting me …” I looked down, heat filling my face as I bit my lip.

  “I learned from the best.” He laughed freely, patting James on the shoulder as he stood and began collecting our plates from the table.

  I’d only heard him laugh once before. And that precipitated our kiss. I had to freeze and isolate that awareness. Because his laugh did things to my emotional makeup I couldn’t even identify. So I pretended, and the rest of us joined him in apparently comfortable laughter.

  Gregory re-entered the dining room, looking far more relaxed than I’d ever seen him. He still had a slight crease between his eyebrows, though, and I began to wonder what he was holding in there. “Would you ladies like to stay for some coffee?”

  Madeline and James shared a shocked look. I smiled, and without asking what Madeline wanted to do, I replied, “I’d like that.”

  Gregory

  “How hospitable of you.” James arched his eyebrow as he reached behind me to grab four coffee mugs.

  “Sarcasm?” I shot back just as sarcastically.

  “You nearly passed out when you found out who was coming to dinner, and after that whole rumor conversation I figured you’d want them out of here as soon as possible.” He turned so his back was against the counter, crossing his arms across his chest.

  Keeping my voice quiet, I answered. “I had no idea that Savannah thought I’d assume she’d had anything to do with those rumors. The thought never crossed my mind.”

  “Why do you care what she thought, Gregory? You don’t care what anyone thinks,” he challenged.

  “That’s not true.” What was he talking about? Of course I cared. Well. I felt my eyebrow wrinkle a little, and I thought about it. Okay, so I usually didn’t care. But … I was starting to care a great deal about what Savannah Marshall thought … of me.

  I went on. “I didn’t realize how much a rumor like this could affect a student. You and I know how foolish rumors are, but the students don’t, apparently. You and Madeline were right, James. Savannah’s talented and works hard. I’ll help support that any way I can.” My hands shook slightly as I poured the coffee, and I realized that my monologue wasn’t making a lot of sense.

  That’s because my thoughts were muddled. After only two weeks of helping Madeline, it was clear Savannah was a natural teacher as well. That was troubling, given Madeline’s hypothesis that Savannah might not be fully committed to a career in playing.

  “Just be careful,” he muttered as he took two mugs and shuffled into the living room.

  Carrying the other two mugs into the living room, my breath involuntarily caught at the sight of Savannah on the oversized leather loveseat. She was sitting up straight, highlighting her years of orchestral training. Her poise was evident in the way her long, tanned legs were crossed at the ankles and her hands were resting in the lap of her green summer dress. The soft waves of her golden hair were hanging carelessly over her shoulders, as they always did. Her smile interrupted my staring.

  “Thank you.” Savannah smiled brighter as she took the mug, wrapping her long fingers around it and leaning back against the couch.

  James and Madeline were sitting rather close on the opposite couch, so I took a seat next to Savannah. Sitting slowly, I thought I felt her eyes on me, but when I looked up she was simply staring into her coffee cup. She hadn’t yet taken a sip.

  “So, Savannah,” James leaned forward, “I’m dying to know what it was like growing up with Vita Carulli. It must have been a fascinating experience.”

  Had he gone mad? Madeline seemed to think so too, given the crooked glance she shot in his direction. Savannah had brought up her mother’s name in my presence exactly once, and in a tone that made it clear she felt overshadowed, uncomfortable. And the one time I met her mother, in her presence, Savannah was reserved. Tense even. I didn’t know what the reasons were, but it was clear that relationship was extremely strained.

  “James, certainly we can find something else to discuss—” I tried to offer an exit from an already uncomfortable evening for Savannah, but she cut me off.

  “Oh, no, it’s fine.” She spoke softly as she placed her mug on the side table.

  Though she pulled off a practiced smile, her two-second blink before she started speaking suggested I should pay very close attention. Savannah ran a hand through her long hair and started talking.

  “Growing up with Vita Carulli is … a loose term, James. The three of us lived in Italy together until I was twelve. Any growing up I did after that was with my father and his parents in Philadelphia.”

  Her voice and expression seemed wistful, but apparently James was tone deaf to it, because he kept talking.

  “Wow, what did you like most about Italy?”

  “Well, I have the most vivid memories from the Teatro dell’opera di Roma. My mother spent most of her time in Milan at the Teatro Alla Scala, but what’s beautiful about the theater in Rome is, the shows aren’t held in that theater in the summer.”

  Her smile turned genuine and her face lit up. “In the summer, they move the theater and dance performances to the ancient Baths of Caracalla …” her voice trailed off along with her eyes.

  “That must have been beautiful,” Madeline interjected.

  I was stricken speechless by Savannah’s seemingly perfect Italian accent as she spoke the names of the theaters, leaving me to wonder if she still spoke any, as I’m sure she had to know some when she was younger.

  Savannah’s hazel eyes grew wide as she looked to Madeline. “Oh, Madeline, you have no idea. There’s absolutely nothing on earth like op
era under the stars. The first year my mother was prima donna there, Malcolm Carroll was conducting, and it was ... a powerhouse. Just ... amazing.”

  Closing my eyes for a second, I put myself there. Under the stars in Rome, watching the opera with Savannah.

  “Your father is a French horn player, right? Why did you choose the flute?”

  While James’s questions were bordering on interrogation, I wanted to hear the answers as well. She’d told me before, in the coffee shop as she played with my hands. I seemed to have gone deaf the second her skin came in contact with mine because I had no recollection of what she’d said.

  “Right,” she nodded, her smile fading, “he’s horn, and my mother…” Savannah continued on to the story she’d told me that day.

  I found myself drawn to her hands. Remembering.

  “Anyway,” she continued, “I always thought the flutes and the strings sounded the most beautiful out of the entire orchestra.”

  “Strings, huh?” I interjected, growing slightly uncomfortable in my own silence. “What made you settle on the flute?”

  A mischievous grin played on her lips. “The flute was prettier.” She shrugged unapologetically.

  “How honest of you, Ms. Marshall,” I teased, chuckling a little.

  “My mother was as supportive as she could be, and my dad …” Savannah sighed, leaning forward and running an index finger along the rim of her mug, staring again into her untouched coffee. “My dad was as supportive as he could be for knowing what kind of life I was preparing to lead.”

  I chose an entirely different career path than my parents, leading to decades of tense half-conversations over the phone and tight greetings on holidays. Apart from her mother, I knew Savannah’s father was an accomplished musician, as well. To willingly step into a life mastered by one’s parents, and to try to make it one’s own? That took a certain constitution. Backbone. She wanted to do this, and not rest on her parents’ laurels. At least, that’s what she started out wanting. Her enthusiasm for instruction was growing more concerning. I’d caught her practicing after instruction was done for the day, and she was gaining ground in technique. She had to keep playing. Savannah straightened her shoulders, which pulled the fabric on her dress tighter across her chest. I checked my watch.