Concerto in Chroma Major

by Naomi Tajedler

  “Of course. Give yourself some credit, you deserve it!”

  “Right!”

  “Better,” Alexandra comments, and Elisabeth quickly folds the paper back around the gift. “Your turn,” Alexandra continues, pushing a medium-sized box toward Halina.

  Halina blinks a couple of times, tentatively putting her hands on the present. “You were serious about getting me a present,” she says, her eyes trained on the shiny bow.

  “Of course I was,” Alexandra says. “Go on, open it, I want to see your face.”

  Halina smiles, delicately opens the present, and sets the bow aside. The box revealed is mysterious, shiny black with no indication of its contents, and Halina’s curiosity only increases when Alexandra leans closer to watch her open it.

  Halina flicks her fingers on the latch of the box and opens it and her breath catches in her throat.

  “A baby grand,” she whispers, her mouth covered with one hand.

  “A toy piano,” Alexandra points out, shuffling forward on her knees. “I thought you’d like to have an instrument in your hotel room and—hmph!”

  The rest of Alexandra’s sentence is lost, as Halina thanks Alexandra with kiss after kiss.

  She has no idea what she did, in this life or the previous ones, to deserve to have Alexandra in her life, but she will find a way to repay her kindness.

  Alexandra leaves Halina with Elisabeth to fix tea and coffee in the kitchen, and Zachary follows her with a purely adolescent smirk on his face. She puts the water on to boil and gets to work with the mugs to make sure everybody gets the drink they want: a pinch of white tea leaves with dried cranberries in a tea ball for Elisabeth; two spoonfuls of coffee with a teaspoon of cocoa and two cubes of sugar for Halina's closet sweet-tooth; green tea with as many mint leaves as humanly possible and three cubes of sugar for Zach; and, finally, a couple of honeyed slices of ginger in her cup of Saenggang cha, a flavor she became addicted to while working with Sue Ji.

  While she waits for the water to heat, Alexandra props an elbow on the counter and observes him.

  What’s on your mind? she asks Zachary. There is no way he followed her into the kitchen out of the goodness of his heart, just to help her with the drinks.

  He smirks at her and fidgets with one of the magnets on her fridge. So, you and her… he starts, and Alexandra raises one eyebrow.

  You can say it, she replies, and Zachary barks out a short laugh. The conversation in the living room halts before picking up again.

  She is your— Zach says, but Alexandra has never seen the last sign he uses, a scratch on his chin.

  Again? she asks, and Zach rolls his eyes in true adolescent fashion, with a sense of superiority Alexandra didn’t look for in her teenage nephew.

  B-A-E, he says, spelling the word for her, and Alexandra opens her mouth in an “Oh” before she replicates the “scratching” sign.

  Bae? Is that a pet name or something?

  Zach nods; his smirk turns into a softer grin. You two are cute, he says; a hint of pink tips his ears. Alexandra would bet good money on her face reflecting that awkwardness.

  She focuses on taking care of the water; at least she’ll have the steam to blame for her flushed appearance. Thanks, she replies quickly. Not sure how long it will last, though.

  Why?

  Alexandra opens a cupboard to take a tray and sighs. Oh, come on, she starts, and Zach lifts one eyebrow. She is so pretty and delicate, and I’m…

  Zach puts one hand on her shoulder and then keeps signing. You’re pretty, too, Aunt Lex, he says, as serious as he’s ever been. You two are different kinds of pretty. Don’t be hard on yourself.

  Alexandra pats Zach’s hand and beams up at him. When did you get so wise?

  I’ve always been wise, he replies with a wink before gently pushing her aside.

  Wanna talk about your love life? She teases, satisfied with the blotchy spots of pink and red all over her nephew’s face.

  Um, no thank you, he signs emphatically. He grabs the tray and, as dignified as possible with bright red cheeks, he goes back to the living room.

  Alexandra gives herself an extra minute of quiet before following him. She tries not to read too much meaning into the smile Halina gives her when she sits down next to her—baby steps.

  Ch 13

  F Minor

  Gold, Burnt Sienna, and Alizarin Crimson

  The more time she spends making small talk with Ari while she waits for Halina to be through with rehearsals, the more Alexandra understands, piece by piece, why they are so important for Halina, professionally and personally. Alexandra and Ari are not the best friends in the world now, not by any stretch of the imagination, but they manage to be at least amicable.

  Many conversations are focused on Halina’s plans for Christmas Eve, on her desire to entertain the Graff family with the best Paris has to offer, or so Ari says.

  “Where does she expect me to find a Polish restaurant open on Christmas?” Ari laments, their eyes glued to their phone as their voice grows progressively greener and greener. “And on top of all the craziness around the inaugural concert, too.” They sigh. “I’m too young for this shit.” Ari pauses before they cock their head at Alexandra, properly acknowledging her for the first time since their conversation started. “What about you? How is your installation going?”

  Alexandra looks up at them. “We’ll install the last panel right before the holidays,” she replies. “We’ll just need to come back the first week of January to check on the lighting system, make sure it’s crowd-ready, so to speak.”

  “Awesome,” Ari says, their phone once again the center of their attention. “Which means you can help me with Halina’s weird idea!”

  “Huh?”

  “A Polish Christmas, seriously…” Ari mutters, the phone exiled to their pocket as they bite their pinkie fingernail and tap a foot in a rare show of exasperation.

  “What about a regular Christmas dinner, somewhere nice,” Alexandra muses as she leans against the wall next to them, “followed by midnight Mass at the Polish church?”

  “Are you sure Paris has a Polish church?” Ari asks, one eyebrow cocked.

  Alexandra shrugs. “I never searched for it, but I’m pretty sure there are all kinds of churches in Paris; why not a Polish one?”

  “Makes sense.”

  “We should make sure it exists, but it could be a good compromise,” Alexandra says. “Not a lot of Polish restaurants in Paris, if any, and I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t open for Christmas.”

  “While plenty of regular restaurants do open on Christmas Eve,” Ari muses, pulling back their phone and frenetically typing away. “Yesss, Polish church. Ooh, rue Saint Honoré, fan-say…”

  Alexandra covers her mouth to smother her giggle at the sudden playful accent and is rewarded by a smile, one actually reaching their eyes, gracing Ari’s face.

  “Doesn’t answer the restaurant part of the evening, though.”

  “I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” Alexandra replies, her hand already raised to pat their arm before she reminds herself that their relationship is not quite there yet.

  “We?”

  “Oui.”

  This time around, Ari does laugh. They snicker into the crook of their elbow to conceal it. “God, I understand now.”

  “What?”

  “What Halina sees in you.”

  “Thanks, I guess?”

  Ari examines her silently, their eyes reminiscent of Halina’s searching gaze. “Yeah, you’ll probably be good for her in the long run.”

  Alexandra wasn’t aware her merit was questioned, but she’ll take whatever compliment Halina’s assistant sends her way. She has a sneaking suspicion she cannot bypass befriending Ari, as opposed as they may be, if she wants her relationship with Halina to survive.

 
* * *

  Halina practically vibrates with excitement as they all wait for the elevator to take them to the restaurant on the rooftop.

  “It’s supposed to be the best view over Paris,” she tells Alexandra, who fondly pecks her cheek.

  “So you said.”

  “And their chef is amongst the culinary stars right now.”

  “You already told me, babe.”

  “And I made sure we could walk through the Duchamp exhibition after dinner.”

  “I—you didn’t?!”

  Ha, I finally managed to surprise you. “I did,” she replies, hooking her arm with Alexandra’s. “The curator is a big fan of my work, so I called in a little favor in exchange for a signed picture.”

  Alexandra looks down, and Halina is surprised and secretly delighted to catch her blushing. “I do love Marcel’s work. Thank you for pulling strings to get us in.”

  “Oh, it’s Marcel now.”

  “Yeah, he’s my homeboy.”

  It’s Halina’s turn to laugh, but Ari clears their throat, pointedly nodding toward their two other guests. Right, I should be a better hostess to the rest of the party.

  “I made sure to tell them we needed kosher options,” she says, facing Elisabeth and Zachary and enunciating clearly without exaggerating.

  “It’s very kind of you,” Zachary replies with a little bow of his head. Elisabeth brushes her fingers on the back of his neck and tweaks his bowtie just so, with such pride on her face Halina has to hide a wince at the pinch of her heart.

  The little voice in the back of her head, her mother’s irritating presence, makes a sudden appearance.

  You never made me so proud.

  You never deserved my love; what makes you expect you deserve hers?

  What is love to you anyway?

  Halina tries to shrug it off, as though her shoulders could be a shield, and Alexandra peers at her with a question in her gray eyes.

  “Got a chill,” she says softly, and Alexandra rubs her arm.

  Maybe this love will be enough for now.

  The elevator doors open, and a charming hostess welcomes them. “Bienvenue chez Georges. Do you have a reservation?”

  “Piotrowski,” Ari, the epitome of professionalism and class, replies, stepping forward on their high heels. “Booking for five, special kosher requests?”

  “Of course,” the hostess says courteously. “May I get your coats? My colleague will take you to your table.”

  Halina takes off her heavy coat and rearranges her hair. She spots Alexandra’s outfit, and her breath catches in her throat. She has been lucky enough to admire her in various sexy outfits—the sexiest being nothing at all, in Halina’s book—but this one hits all of Halina’s buttons. It’s not just the folds of the jumpsuit’s neck, reminiscent of Alexandra’s outfit on their first night together, or the subtle makeup Alexandra has put on her eyes to make them appear larger than life. It’s all of it combined, with the little hint of lace Halina spots between the folds, proof that Alexandra took an extra step to make Halina’s Christmas special.

  See, she retorts to the voice, she does care about me, in ways you never could.

  “You’re gorgeous,” she says reverently. Her hand follows the seam of Alexandra’s sleeve to her smooth skin until she can cup her elbow.

  “So are you,” Alexandra replies, her head cocked. “Your dress is… magical. As if you just stepped out of one of my books.”

  Halina glances down at the dress she bought as a gift for herself, at the elegant neckline and the wrapped fabric of the bustier. The silky fabric of the skirt brushes against her legs, revealing them with every step. “That was its point,” she says softly, “thank you.” She pecks Alexandra’s cheek, and they walk through the rows of tables to a large table right by the window.

  On their way, Halina doesn’t miss the way some patrons gawk at them. She stomps on an irrational need to put her hand, her mark almost, on Alexandra. Alexandra is hers, and these men don’t deserve to be competition. No one should be competing for Alexandra’s affection, but the idea of men as potential rivals is a sore spot.

  Leonardo Neri, in particular, is a sore spot—the way he hovers over Alexandra whenever Halina enters their workspace, the way Alexandra is oblivious to his obvious endgame and how negatively it affects Halina, the very presence he has in Alexandra’s life. The man has many maddening characteristics, but his attitude toward Alexandra takes the cake. But he will not disrupt this lovely evening, physically or in her thoughts, and she pushes him out of her mind.

  Ari and Alexandra sit next to each other, while Elisabeth takes the head of the table. Alexandra’s sister is very elegant, too, if in a more conventional way. The turtleneck dress highlights her curves perfectly; it’s sexy without revealing anything. Halina tries not to focus too much on the way both sisters inhabit their curves.

  “Wow!” Zachary’s voice pulls Halina from her thoughts, as he fidgets with his tie and takes in the view over the roofs of Paris. “Spectacular.”

  “It is, isn’t it,” she replies as she sits next to him. Zachary looks at her with a little hesitation, but also with a warmth Halina isn’t sure she deserves.

  They order bottles of sparkling apple juice with their first course, and toast to the holidays.

  Halina makes sure to clink her glass with Alexandra’s, maintaining the eye contact for a touch too long, if Ari’s visible amusement is any indication.

  As it turns out, Ari was right to book their dinner reservation for so early in the evening. After dinner and their special preview of the exhibit at the Centre Pompidou, they barely have enough time to catch a taxi to the church. Halina never goes to church, except for Wigilia, the Polish Mass for Christmas Eve.

  Despite the distance she’s put between herself and her home country, the ritual brings her peace and comfort. Her entrée was no barszcz, by any stretch of the imagination, but the whole meal did have the comfort Halina associates with her memories of her early childhood in Wrocław, memories she had thought buried under years of resentment. All it took to remember the sweetness of that time was having the right people to share it with.

  The choir starts singing, and though it has been years, decades even, since Halina’s sung these hymns, they all come rushing back. She lets them come out, keeping her voice low to protect the ears of the people around her.

  Next to her, Ari taps their foot with the beat of the carol. Zachary seems focused on the decor of the church; his eyes are trained on the arches of the dome. Elisabeth and Alexandra are enraptured by the choir, and Halina hears them humming in harmony with the singers.

  Alexandra’s musical ear must run in the family. Halina momentarily loses track of the song itself and listens as they follow the melody and even build a third interval around it. Then they stop suddenly and laugh in silence with their dark heads bowed together. They remind Halina of the illustrations in her childhood books depicting naughty little girls caught in the act. It only increases Halina’s affection for Alexandra.

  The service ends with the choir performing a moving rendition of “Lulajże Jezuniu.” Halina stifles a laugh when her four companions look up at her in unison for guidance.

  “Come on, Scooby-gang, let’s go.”

  Ari mutters under their breath, asking who is who in this metaphor.

  “You don’t want to hear the answer.” She pokes out her tongue at them.

  Zachary signs something that makes his mother dissolve into peals of laughter. She seems free in a way Halina has not seen before.

  “What was the joke?” Ari asks. “Did you say I was Scooby-Doo?”

  “Actually,” Elisabeth replies, still laughing, “he said he was fine being Scooby-Doo himself if you were Fred.”

  Ari seems to consider Zach carefully before nodding. “I suppose I could deal with this arrangement.”


  “We should go back to our hotel,” Elisabeth says, once she manages to compose herself.

  “I’m off to a party,” Ari says with a self-satisfied smile. “Guess who will get to play with Santa’s candy cane to get off the naughty list!”

  Halina turns to Alexandra. “May I get you all a taxi back to your side of Paris?”

  “Actually, I—”

  “Don’t worry about us,” Elisabeth cuts in, pulling Alexandra closer to kiss her cheek. “We can manage on our own. We’ll take a taxi back to your place, take care of Punshki, and then back to our room. Tonight was delightful. Thank you and Merry Christmas, Halina,” she adds, stepping closer to pull Halina into her hug. “Take care of her, will you?” she whispers in Halina’s ear. “Good night!”

  “G-good night,” Halina says, a little dazed by the soft-spoken demand. “What about you then?”

  Alexandra shakes her head, making her curls bounce. “I want to go back to your place.”

  “Oh?”

  “Got a surprise for you there.”

  Once they’re in Halina’s hotel room, the scent of Alexandra’s surprise hits Halina before she can turn on the light.

  “You got me a Christmas tree,” Halina says, covering her mouth with one hand while the other brushes the needles of the potted miniature fir tree. “And ornaments too.”

  She marvels at the little baubles hooked on the tiny branches: There’s a wooden piano, vividly red against the green of the tree, but mostly small glass pieces, miniatures of traditional Polish bombki. “It’s so pretty,” she whispers, brushing the ornaments with the tip of her finger. “Did you make them?”

  Alexandra nods and comes to stand next to her. “I wanted to make sure you had the best Christmas possible,” she says softly, wrapping her arms around Halina and resting her head on Halina’s chest. “Oh, and if the website I used was not mistaken, you need to break one, don’t you? To chase the bad spirits away?”

  “It is tradition, yeah,” Halina replies, but no way in hell will she smash one of these delicate pieces of art that Alexandra blew herself. She doesn’t contain her surprised squeal when Alexandra pulls an actual polska bombka from her pocket.