“Good,” Glenda clapped her hands together once and looked to the doors where her husband had just walked in.
Luciano held up a finger and pointed at Eva. Eva stood and walked toward the door where Luciano promptly left again.
“So we’ll start with a warm up,” Glenda said. There was the sound of the piano and the movement of bodies and feet, and then the strong solid wall of voices singing through scales.
“Good morning,” Eva smiled. She tried to think of how far away Ambrose was and how her voice would react to the distance. In that moment Eva understood how difficult her task was truly going to be.
“How are you doing?” Luciano asked. Eva looked at him surprised. It didn’t seem like his kind of question.
“Great!” Eva smiled. She immediately began to think of the worst. Had he found out about her voice? Did he know that at any moment she might not be able to sing anymore?
“Good,” Luciano patted her on the shoulder. “They,” Luciano gestured toward the group warming up, “have all done this before—you’ve got a lot of responsibility my dear. But I believe you can do it.” He squinted his eyes and dipped his head.
“Thank you.” Eva felt deeply the kindness of his words. The fact, that it was just the sort of thing he rarely, if ever, said made them all the more poignant.
“Ok then, let’s get to work.” Luciano issued Eva back into the large rehearsal space and Eva joined in immediately with warm ups.
Eva tried her best to be nice to the other cast members but she felt separated from them. Many of them were friends from other productions and Eva was decidedly an outsider. She understood that she was not only new to them but in their eyes she hadn’t paid her dues to be singing the lead role in a Luciano Costantini production.
It wasn’t until she began singing that the other people in the cast seemed to notice her.
With her opening phrases she noticed heads turning, the room fell silent. Ambrose’s robust voice moved in sync with hers and she felt that the room became as entranced by their music as Eva felt.
The music rose and dipped, Ambrose came in then Eva sang over him. They finished the first act of music to applause by the chorus of singers sitting along the walls, in the chairs, and standing nearby.
Luciano motioned for the other singers to abate their applause and Eva felt herself blush.
During their first break, she watched Tessa walk toward Ambrose but he turned to Eva instead.
“Did you ever find that earring?”
Ambrose said it with a straight face but Eva could hear the humor hiding beneath his voice.
“I did, thank you for asking.” She tried not to look at him. He was silent and finally Eva gave in and turned. He was smirking, eyebrows raised. “How do you think it’s going?” She tried to sound light and airy, tried not to show that she cared what his response might be.
“I think you are more than anyone bargained for,” he smiled.
Eva felt a pull on her lips, the desire to smile, but she squelched it. Eva’s phone began to buzz from her bag and she dug around, pulling it out. It was her doctor’s office.
“I just…” She put a finger up to signify that she must take the call then moved out of the rehearsal room as she answered.
“This is Eva St. Marie,” she answered the phone. As the doctor spoke on the other line Eva felt like a truck had struck her.
Her fingers shook as she turned off her phone and let it slid back into her bag.
When she came back from the hall she felt like the room was spinning around her head. She looked for Ambrose. He was talking to Tessa and two other women who were hanging on his every word. Her heart sank.
She did her best to ignore Ambrose’s flirtations with other women, tried to ignore the flirtations he kept making toward her. What was she supposed to do? She sang her lines and felt all the more that she wasn’t singing for Lucretia, she was singing for herself. Somewhere, somehow, Eva had become Lucretia and now there was no way out but to find her way through the tunnel of this opera and see where it landed her.
Ambrose didn’t seem to mind or even to notice Eva’s rebuffs from his attentions.
She let the songs, the music act as her passageway to true emotion, to the real feelings of her soul. People clustered together at breaks throughout the day and Eva tried to read over her sheet music so she wouldn’t seem quite so alone. Ambrose came over once or twice but Eva found that a group of girls was always just waiting for the right opportunity to carry him away for some errand or another.
After rehearsal Ambrose made a point to break away and he walked next to Eva.
“I thought perhaps you should come over tonight, we can sing through the third act.” His voice was playful and Eva was exhausted.
“I need to be home.” She felt close to tears and she didn’t want to expose them to Ambrose for him to laugh away.
“Do you think that’s wise?” He stopped and Eva stopped as well.
Eva looked over his face. Could she ever possibly tell her secret to this man? It was now his secret too, but there was no reason he ever had to know it.
“We can do one quick rehearsal so we don’t sound completely horrendous tomorrow then I’ll have a car drive you home. You’ll be in your own warm bed before you know it.”
Eva thought it over. Every part of her wanted to tell him. Every part of her yearned to be near him, to feel his presence close to her.
“One quick rehearsal,” she heard herself say. It was absurd, a crazy thing to do. What she really needed was to think, to be alone and contemplate her future. But the man in front of her felt so much like her future.
This time Eva let Ambrose hail a cab. She wasn’t up for the walk.
She sat in the back in silence, staring out the window and all the time wondering. Wondering what she should do, wondering how much she should say, and wondering what Ambrose’s reaction would be if she did tell all.
“And how are you this evening, Mr. Leroy?” Ambrose’s doorman seemed very perky as he opened the front door for Eva then Ambrose to walk through.
“Quite well,” Ambrose smiled at the man, tipping an invisible hat.
“And with such lovely company, how could you be doing otherwise?” The man looked at Eva and winked. She wondered how many other women he’d said the same words to? How many women had he seen come through here on Ambrose’s arm?
“So,” Ambrose turned to Eva as they walked into his apartment.
“Act three?” Eva took off her light jacket and draped it over the couch.
“Right.”
Eva walked down the front hall and turned into his music room. She walked to the piano. They were here to sing through the third act together and that was she needed to focus on for the time being.
Ambrose took the music out of his case and put it on the piano top. “Do you want to play or should I?” He moved his eyes to the piano bench.
“You.” Eva was certain she would crash her way through the hand written, sometimes erased and rewritten, notes lining the page. She walked back to her bag and took out her water then sprayed the back of her mouth with a bitter throat spray.
Ambrose sat down on the bench behind her and Eva darted her eyes to the spot on the Persian rug that she’d been avoiding since walking in. The things she had felt on that rug…
Ambrose plucked out a few notes then put both hands to the keys and began to play. Eva’s mouth dropped open and she turned to look at him. Ambrose played like a concert pianist. His fingers roamed over the keys like he’d known the notes all his life.
His hands stopped and he looked up, “That’s where you come in.” He smiled.
“When did you learn to play like that?” Eva couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.
“I’ve been around for a very long time and music is my life.” Ambrose returned his eyes to the music and began to play again. Eva stopped him.
“You met my parents, didn’t you?” Eva watched Ambrose’s eyes look up from their sp
ot on the music.
He pursed his lips, then said thoughtfully, “I did.”
Eva took a moment to digest this information. He’d met her parents. Of course he had, he’d been around for a “long time” as he said. He masterful at what he did and Eva knew of only one way to be so incredibly good.
“Not many times, but I sang with your mother in Prague. Your father was a funny man, he had a great sense of humor. Your mother was one of the most elegant women I’ve ever met—lovely. They were devoted to each other in a way I’ve never seen before or since. I’m sure they were devoted to you when you were born too.” His fingers found a few keys and a soft, light melody played into the room.
“No one has ever called my father ‘funny,’” Eva said softly.
“People saw him only for his musical genius, but I think he was a really warm man as well. They were good people. The best of people.”
Eva brushed the tears from her face. “Maybe one day, you can tell me more about them?”
Ambrose nodded, “Anytime.”
He played through his soft melody then sensing Eva was ready, he turned his attention back to his music. He began the same darting notes and this time Eva let herself fall into it, she moved closer so she could see the words. Then she began to sing.
Her voice rose in his apartment. The room was large and the music bounced off the walls and fell back on her ears. Ambrose came in with a large breath and let his voice rise to meet hers.
Tears came to her eyes. This was what she wanted. This, more than anything else in the world.
Ambrose looked up from the music and stopped playing. “You’re crying.”
“It’s just so beautiful.” She pushed her fingers across her face. Ambrose reached up and held her wrist. He pulled her down to the bench, their bodies turned in opposite directions but their faces lining up.
“You’re so beautiful.” He moved his fingers over her face. His lips found her cheek and he kissed away her tears.
Eva felt something inside herself give way to the man in front of her. She lifted her face to him. Her lips met his.
His fingers slid along her back, expertly roaming her body, pushing under her clothes. Eva arched her back. Her body was calling for him, asking for him.
“Tell me,” She said looking up at him. “I need to understand. If I did this—if I let you bring into the darkness, then what would happen?”
Ambrose looked at her for a long time. “You would change, you would become one of us. You would live forever in this world but you would never again be of this world. There is no going back once you’ve decided.”
“I could sing forever?” Eva asked. Just the sound of it was like an abundant gift.
Eva dipped her head back and held Ambrose’s head with her hand. She guided his mouth down her face to the open patch of exposed neck. His lips grazed her skin. He pulled back.
“What are you asking for?” he whispered.
“Everything, I want everything.” She looked in his face, into his eyes. “You want to give me everything, don’t you?”
“Yes,” a light flickered behind Ambrose’s eyes.
“And…” she hesitated.
Ambrose paused, “…And?”
“And you would be with me ? You would… what about Tessa…Celine, the others?” She could hear the uncertainty in her voice. She was uncertain. She understood what she wanted from him, but she wasn’t certain that “everything” would mean the same thing to him.
Ambrose stiffened. He pulled back further from her.
“No one else is here but you and me.” His voice was growing hard and Eva could feel him pulling away from her.
Eva stood. She didn’t want to be the kind of woman that clings, who demanded things of a man, she hated that he made her feel that way. But she didn’t want to share him either. She wasn’t sure she was capable of sharing him. If she said yes to this then she felt sure she would be saying yes to a life of angst. She would constantly be wondering where Ambrose was and who Ambrose was with.
Eva stood up. “I should go. I need to go.” Eva grabbed up her bag. “I need to think.”
Ambrose didn’t stop her. He didn’t stand and protest. He didn’t make the promises she so desperately wanted to hear. He was silent.
Chapter Eleven
Eva went to rehearsals. She worked hard everyday and everyday she was left with the knowledge that a choice was coming. Her secret was growing inside of her and opening night was growing closer.
Luciano’s moods began to swing from one extreme to the other and sometimes back and forth within the same day.
Jerome had called a few times but she’d been too busy and preoccupied to call him back. She’d told no one her secret and Bridget seemed so far away to give any real help.
Every night Eva had a hard time getting to sleep—her thoughts roamed freely and gave her little peace.
Ambrose seemed to have given up his flirtations and he pushed all his energies into the new music. She could read his seriousness on his face and this made Eva only more attracted to him.
“Let’s take the first ending,” Luciano called from off stage. As the opening night grew closer the rehearsals had been moved from the large room onto the opera house stage.
The orchestra was rehearsing with them today and the sound was so impressive that Eva was certain no opera had ever sounded so stunning or could ever again.
“Glenda just told me that the entire run of the opera is sold out,” Ambrose walked out to meet Eva on stage.
“That’s…incredible.” Eva instinctively put a hand to her stomach.
“I wanted to talk to you about…everything we were—” Ambrose was quickly cut off by the upsurge of the orchestra.
The music lifted to them and Eva was thankful for it. She wasn’t sure how to handle Ambrose anymore. Her heart was so thinly covered and she felt so incredibly vulnerable that every time she saw him she felt weak.
Ambrose opened his mouth and his opening phrases filled the theater. Eva watched, mesmerized by the man in front of her.
When their scene finished she walked off stage and took a shaky breath. Her phone buzzed.
“Bridget!” Eva smiled as she answered her friend’s call.
“Hello gorgeous,” Bridget said from the other end.
Eva let out a long held breath. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed her friend.
“How is Cincinnati?” Eva moved off the wings of the stage so she could talk freely.
“It’s actually been amazing, the people are really wonderful, I’ve been working hard, and there’s a guy.” Eva could hear the smile in Bridget’s voice.
“Of course there’s a guy,” Eva replied.
“And how is Ambrose?” Bridget asked with obvious intentions.
Eva turned and looked to the closed door that led back to the stage. “He’s just as talented as ever, but…well… there was something I wanted to—”
“—Oh shit,” Bridget interrupted her. “I have to run, I want to hear all about it! Call me when you get a chance. And just in case I don’t get to say it before Friday, break a leg!”
Eva hung up the phone and leaned back on the cold block wall behind her.
When rehearsals were over for the night Eva snuck out of the building as quickly as she could and took a taxi home. She could tell that Ambrose wanted to talk to her but Eva had nothing to say. She was still upset with him and the weight of her secret was pressing on her every moment of every day.
When she got up to her apartment, she locked the door and looked around. Because rehearsals had been running so long Eva hadn’t had a chance to clean up. Things were everywhere.
Now, Eva decided that the mess was too similar to the mess her mind was in. She needed a clean space if she was going to figure out how to have a clear mind.
She turned her mother’s record on, put her sheet music on the piano top, picked up and folded the blanket that had fallen to the floor. She’d had clean laundry that had been
sitting in a pile waiting to be folded for two days and now she folded it, taking pleasure in the crisp lines and fresh laundry smell.
As she closed one of her dresser drawers there was a knock on the door.
Possibilities ran through her mind. Jerome, Ambrose, a courier with some new changes from Luciano…Eva tip toed out of her room and put her face up to the peep hole.
Ambrose was pacing in front of her door. She backed away from the vision of him and considered.
She could let him in, but if she did then what? It was the same thing over and over again. Her heart was too strongly his. He had too large of a hold over her. It was painful and a daily reminder that she had no hold over his heart.
She wasn’t ready to make a decision about all eternity. Not tonight.
Eva exhaled quietly. Ambrose knocked again.
“Eva, I can hear the music, I know you’re in there,” his voice came muffled through the door. She bit her lip. “You ran out too quickly, I…I wanted to talk to you.”
She lifted her hand to undo the lock then put it down again. No. No, she couldn’t keep doing this. She refused.
Eva stepped quietly back from the door and back into her room, where she closed herself in and eventually cried herself to sleep.
The next days passed by in a haze and flurry of activity. There was a cast dinner where Eva sat on one side of Luciano and Ambrose on the other. Tessa and the other females of the cast all seemed equally motivated to be around him at every moment and Eva didn’t fight for the privilege.
When Luciano finished his speech, one where he said one optimistic sentiment followed by another equally pessimistic one, Ambrose stood up.
“I would just like to say a few words…” Ambrose cleared his throat and Eva took a sip of the water in front of her.
“As we all know, Luciano is a genius, I have no doubt that after Friday anyone who has seen it will know that they’ve seen the greatest thing to grace the stage of all time. I have no doubt of its success and we certainly could not have done it without all of you…”
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