Remember This

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by Patricia Koerner


  The day after I arrived was John’s birthday. He wanted to go to the horse races over in Margate. Guillermo’s gambling habit left me with a bad taste in my mouth when it came to wagering of any kind, but because it was his birthday, I humored John and went with him and even bet twenty dollars on a race.

  John had rented a condominium ten minutes’ walk from the beach and almost every morning, we got up before dawn and went down to the beach to swim and watch the sun rise. It was so beautiful how the sun seemed to burst over the horizon and spill its rays over the water. On one of these mornings, I searched for seashells to take home as souvenirs, but found few.

  One night, we went to a club that served chocolate martinis. I told John I never heard of such a drink.

  “Neither had I, until one of the sound techs told me about this place and said these chocolate martinis are great.”

  At first taste, I thought the martini was dreadful, but I grew to like it and even had a second. I got John up to dance with me like we did at the clubs when we were young. When we were undressing for bed later, I realized how rash that was, that someone could have recognized John and called attention to us.

  “Don’t fret,” John said. “We can’t live like hermits because someone might recognize me.” He pulled me down on to the bed into his arms. “If it happens, we’ll deal with it.”

  On my last day there, John rented a boat and we had lunch out on the water. “Do you want the inside scoop on how Miami Mike gets taken down?” he asked me, as I handed him a sandwich. “I’ve already seen the script, but you must promise not to give it away.”

  I held up my hand. “Please, no – especially while I’m eating. I’d rather hear what you’re going to do afterwards.”

  “Well, it’s back to Los Angeles for the time being. Ron is negotiating for me for a role in another series. If that doesn’t pan out, something else will come up. It always does.”

  ***

  The following Christmas, Dad wanted to see Matty and me, so I flew to California, met Matty and he and I drove to Monterey. For the weeks between Dad’s call and the day I left New York, I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that had settled over me. When we arrived, I could see that Dad was weak and frail. His voice was raspy and at times, his mind seemed to wander. Mabel told us it was the side effects of his medicine.

  During the holiday Dad told me he and Mabel had married the previous September. I was upset he didn’t invite Matty or me, or even tell us.

  “Honey, I wanted to tell you in person, not in some e-mail or even over the phone.” He took my hand and held it. “Our wedding was merely to legalize our relationship. I want Mabel to be able to make certain decisions when I’m … no longer able. That time is coming soon. My doctors tell me three months, perhaps a little more. That’s why I wanted you and Matty here – so we could have a last Christmas together.”

  When I got a call from Mabel on March 31st and she told me Dad had died that morning, I was stoic. After all, Dad had prepared me for this at Christmas and in our phone conversations since. I even taught my class that afternoon. It only hit me when I walked into my apartment that evening. I sat in the dark and wept, remembering all Dad had done for me over the years; encouraging and supporting me with my music and always being there for me with good solid advice, even when it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. He’d always been in my corner and I was going to miss him so much.

  The funeral was held in Monterey, where Dad and Mabel had made friends and Dad was the life of many a party. I then took his body to Los Angeles where he was laid to rest beside Mother and Danny. As I stood in front of their graves, the last surviving member of the Newman family, feeling more alone than I ever had in my life, John came up behind me and put his arms around me. “I’m here. You’re not alone,” he said.

  The summer brought more bad news. The country’s economic troubles hit home. Columbia, as a cost saving measure, cut most of its adjunct faculty. My position was one of those eliminated. For several months, I felt unmoored, directionless. After weeks of listening to me vent my anxiety, John finally convinced me to return to composing. It was where I’d found solace before. I composed Dancing Snowflakes and a couple of other pieces which I eventually allowed to be used in commercials for laptop computers and a credit card company.

  In September, after a summer spent mostly at my piano, I needed a diversion, so I went downtown to see a production of The Lion in Winter. I was idly browsing through the program as I waited for seating to begin when I noticed a woman standing nearby whom I knew from my time in the Philharmonic. It was the first time in many years that I had seen anyone from the Philharmonic. “Carmen?” I said as I approached her. “Carmen Reynolds?”

  “Yes?” It took a minute for her to recognize me. Her face broke into a smile. “Hannah Newman! Well, it’s surely nice to see you. I heard about you being nominated for the Oscar. What an accomplishment!”

  I felt myself blush. “Thank you, Carmen.” I quickly changed the subject. How are things at the Philharmonic? Are you concertmistress yet?” I teased her.

  “Oh, no,” she laughed. “I retired from the orchestra back in ’04. I only have a couple of private students now plus I’m assistant manager here. What are you doing these days?”

  I didn’t feel like going through it all right then, so I merely said, “Well, teaching mostly, but right now, I’m pretty much a free agent.”

  “We could use another rehearsal pianist. I know you could do it. You could play for performances, too.”

  “I’ve never done live theatre before …”

  “Why don’t you come back tomorrow and talk with Tom Carson, our manager?”

  I wasn’t at all certain I wanted to do that kind of work, but the recession had battered my portfolio and essentially cut it in half, so I had to generate income somehow. I still received royalties from some of my songs, but it wasn’t enough to live on indefinitely, so I went to see Carson.

  Between rehearsals and performances of five musicals a season, I’d be working about thirty weeks, he told me, staggered through the year. In spite of my initial reluctance, I gradually felt secure once again, and purposeful and I came to enjoy the work and getting to know the many actors, singers and dancers who performed with us.

  Matty came East for Christmas and stayed on for a few weeks. He sat for the bar exam for New York. He was reluctant at first to tell me why he wanted to live here again after so many years out West, but I finally got it out of him.

  “Her name is Paula Bratlavsky. I met her in my tort law class. We hit it off when we discovered we both were from around here. Her family lives just over in Trenton. After graduation, we’re moving back.

  I reached over and pinched his cheek. “Why have you been so shy about telling me?”

  He shrugged. “I guess I was waiting for the best time.”

  57

  In May, the day after the theatre’s production of Music Man ended, I boarded a plane to Los Angeles. I hadn’t seen John in over a year and I missed him terribly. He had been busy with two series after D.E.A. and hadn’t had time off.

  “I can tell how happy how happy you are to have Matty live close to you again,” he said as we walked back to my hotel after dinner.

  “Yes, but he may not have much time for me as he has another woman in his life now.”

  At Stanford for Matty’s graduation, Tony, Deirdre and I got to meet Paula, her parents, Yuri and Natalya, and her younger sister, Svetlana. Yuri, a quiet man, but with a ready smile, gestured toward Matty and Paula and beamed, “Look at them. Such a beautiful couple. Our grandchildren will be beautiful too, eh?”

  I had to agree. Matty’s fair coloring contrasted strikingly with Paula’s long dark hair and emerald green eyes.

  Matty and Paula moved back as they’d planned and got a place in New Canaan. Matty and Paula both passed the bar there as well as in New York and New Jersey.

  Yuri and Natalya invited me for Thanksgiving dinner. “You’re family now,” they
told me. “We need to get together to start planning the wedding.” I was impressed with how they incorporated Russian dishes into the American Thanksgiving tradition. In addition to the turkey, there was a Russian potato salad which included diced carrots and peas as well as the usual ingredients. It was delicious and when I told Natalya this, she generously offered to show me how to make it. Another dish I enjoyed was pel’men, meat and vegetable filled dumplings which were boiled or steamed, then fried. Tea seemed to be the beverage of choice, although there were also several varieties of vodka on offer. One I tried was fruit flavored.

  I was happy to see Matty again. Since he and Paula worked long hours at their respective firms, I seldom saw him. Mostly we communicated by e-mail and text messages. I was able to get him alone for a few minutes to give him a hug and ask how everything was going.

  “Well, being the newest in our firms, we get the cases no one else wants. Paula and I are both putting in over 50 billable hours a week. To keep work from taking over what little personal time we have, we made an agreement not to discuss our work at home.”

  “I think that’s a wise decision. Your lives and relationship deserve your care and attention.”

  “It worked well until last week, when we found ourselves facing one another in court, representing opposing clients. That made for a very awkward moment.”

  I stifled a laugh. “I hope then, that it wasn’t too contentious a case.”

  “No, thank God. There was some wrangling but ultimately, Paula’s client agreed to settle for an amount my client was willing to pay.” Matty made a gesture as if wiping his forehead. “If this case had gotten any worse, I didn’t want to have to face her at home, too.”

  ***

  Over the ensuing months, I kept John up to date on the wedding plans. I wanted so much for him to come to the wedding. He hadn’t seen Matty since Matty was a toddler and I was hoping for them to have a reunion of sorts. John too, was looking forward to it. He was filming a movie, but it was scheduled to wrap in mid-May, in plenty of time for the June 5th wedding. I did not tell Matty of my plans to bring John to the wedding. I wanted it to be a surprise.

  On Orthodox Easter Sunday, the Bratlavskys invited me to their celebration. I decided then to give Paula the emerald ring Tony had given me. I never could bring myself to part with it. I guess it had some meaning for me after all.

  “Matty’s father gave me this ring when we got engaged,” I told Paula as she opened the box. “I hope you like it. I believe now is a good time to pass it on.”

  “I love it! Thank you.” She put the ring on her finger and hugged me.

  “The emerald is a perfect complement to your lovely green eyes,” I told her.

  John’s movie was still filming the week before Memorial Day and I was growing anxious. A week later, I phoned John and pressured him to tell me when he would arrive in New York.

  “I was going to phone you this evening. I won’t be able to come for the wedding. I’m so sorry. The director wants several scenes re-written and re-shot. It’ll be at least two weeks before we’re done. I can’t leave because I’ve no idea when I could be called to the set.”

  “There’s no way at all to get away for just a few days?” I could hear the frustration and disappointment creep into my voice.

  “Not with this guy. He gets his kicks jerking people around. I swear, I’ll never work on a project of his again. There’s nothing I can do, Hannah. Please understand.”

  “All right, John,” I said tersely. Just … just keep me posted.”

  When I stepped out of the taxi on East Second Street in front of the Cathedral of the Holy Virgin Protection, I was relieved to see that the clouds which were threatening rain had cleared away and the afternoon was bright and sunny. Since I last talked with John, I had swallowed my disappointment and thought only of being happy for Matty and Paula and celebrating their union. I knew John and I would eventually make things right.

  I was contemplating the icons of Saints Peter and Paul in the vestibule when Yuri approached me with a nervous looking young man of about seventeen or eighteen and said, “This is my nephew Piotyr. He will be escorting you down the aisle. Piotyr, stop fiddling with your tie.” Yuri reached up and adjusted Piotyr’s blue silk tie.

  I gave him a reassuring nod and patted his arm. “Thank you, Piotyr. I appreciate your doing that. It’s very kind of you.”

  Tony was seated next to me and Deirdre was on Tony’s other side. As the ceremony began and the priest began chanting in Russian, I regretted not putting ‘learn Russian’ on my to-do list. Tony leaned over and whispered, “Do you understand any of this?”

  “No. Not a word.”

  “Me neither. It’s all Greek to me.” Deirdre giggled.

  “Russian, Tony. It’s all Russian to you.” This time both Deirdre and I snickered. Tony rolled his eyes.

  At the reception, Matty and his groomsmen performed a traditional Cossack dance. I laughed out loud at seeing Matty twirling and leaping. He had always been shy about performing in public and I noticed that he took a gulp of vodka right before getting out onto the floor. Afterwards, the rest of us got up and danced a number of Russian folk dances. Natalya showed me some of the steps and I did my best to keep up, but soon, I was exhausted from that and meeting all of Paula’s many relatives. Before I took my leave to go home, I hugged Matty and Paula and wished them happiness. Then, before I began to cry, I rushed outside.

  It was nearly midnight when I walked into my apartment. I was startled when I tripped on Herbert, Matty and Paula’s cat. I’d agreed to take care of him while they were on their honeymoon. With a yowl, he retreated under the dining table. I tried to coax him out with a cat treat, but he remained where he was, warily regarding me with his glowing yellow eyes. I noticed the envelope icon on my computer screen indicating I had an incoming message. I sat down at the computer. Just then, Herbert came out from under the table and with a soft ‘chirrup’ sound, jumped into my lap. I stroked his soft coat. He began purring. “Now you want attention, you silly beast,” I said. I opened the message. It was from John.

  My Dearest Hannah,

  I didn’t want to interrupt you with a phone call while you were at the wedding and reception, but I wanted you to know I’ve been thinking of you today. I know how disappointed you were that I couldn’t be there to share your happiness, but I am with you in spirit.

  In October, I’m appearing in The Tempest in Burlington, Vermont. I would love to have you there with me. When I was young, my parents took Alicia and me on drives to the countryside to see the autumn foliage. I don’t know if you’ve seen how beautiful autumn is in New England, but it would be wonderful to see it together.

  I hope you enjoy taking care of your furry grandchild. I doubt if it will be too long before Matty and Paula give you a hairless one ;) Remember this – even when we are apart, my heart touches and merges with yours. I send you all my love. John

  58

  I was quite intrigued by John’s suggestion and I looked forward all summer to the trip. While he filmed a three episode story arc in a medical series, I was busy with our production of 42nd Street. I wanted to see John’s opening night on September 22nd, but 42nd Street ran through the 30th. On October 2nd, I rented a car for a week and drove up to Burlington. I saw the play the first night I was there. John played Gonzalo and brought quite a bit of whimsy to the character. He told me later that he was relieved to do something comedic after the string of dark characters he’d been playing for the last several years.

  One afternoon, after John went to the theatre, I took a walk around the neighborhood. It was an older part of the city, with tree lined streets and old houses. I saw then what John meant when he spoke of the beauty of the autumn colors. I thought of my mother and wondered how she would have put that beauty on a canvas.

  I happened on a small bistro tucked in between two houses. I went in and ordered tea and a sandwich. I took a seat outside on the patio. A light breeze blew through the wind
chimes hanging from the front porch of one of the adjacent houses. I listened to the tinkling melody they made. When the breeze blew again, I snatched a piece of paper and a pen from my bag. I scratched notes on the paper as quickly as I could before the melody faded from my mind. This eventually evolved into the piece Windchimes.

  The Tempest closed on the 7th and first thing the next morning, John and I set off back to New York. We took a state highway rather than the interstate, so we could stop anywhere we wanted to look at the foliage and to walk around. As we ate lunch in a wooded park, we watched a grey squirrel busily carrying acorns and sundry other items up a tree, presumably to hide them for later. When he caught sight of us, he twitched his bushy tail and chirped as if irritated by our intrusion.

  That night, we stayed in a little bed and breakfast inn in Bridgewater. It was so welcoming and peaceful, and the gardens so beautiful, that I began entertaining thoughts of perhaps leaving the city and retiring to such a place. The following day, we stopped for lunch in Chester. The small restaurant had only a few customers when we arrived.

  The proprietor greeted us. “Hello there. Welcome,” he said as he approached us, wiping his hands on his apron. “Today’s special is Yankee pot roast. The vegetables are all fresh and locally grown. You won’t be disappointed.”

  John and I looked at one another and smiled. “OK, you’ve sold us,” John said.

  The pot roast was delicious just as the proprietor said and we told him so when we paid the check.

  “You can get some of the vegetables for yourself if you like,” he said. “There’s an open air market just a few miles from here.” He took a napkin and drew a map and directions for us.

  When we arrived, the market seemed to be in full swing. John liked to mix with people much more than I did. He was so like his father that way. To safeguard his identity and privacy, he had to be more reticent than was his nature and to disguise his appearance. This time, he still had the moustache and goatee he’d grown for his role as Gonzalo. Plus, he wore a hat and his glasses, which he never wore while performing, so he felt safe to socialize a little.

 

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