Four Seasons…October

Laney opened the door and beamed at her newest student. “You can go ahead and get started,” she said, looking over the top of Reggie’s head and into the empty street. “Will your father be joining us this morning?”

“Nope, he had to head in to work for a few minutes. Weekend emergency, he said. He promised he’d be here to pick me up though. Said he really wanted to hear what we’ve been working on.”

Laney leaned down in front of Reggie and looked directly in his eyes. “It’s okay if he doesn’t make it. You know that right? I’m sure he’ll do his best, but he’s trying to juggle a lot of balls right now. If he misses something, it isn’t necessarily his fault.”

“I know,” Reggie shrugged. He’d been hearing his father say the same thing for a few years, but it felt kinda weird hearing it from another grown up, almost word for word. “Should I warm up?”

“Yes,” Laney nodded, rising to her feet and picking up her violin along the way. “Go ahead and start with Twinkle.”

Reggie placed the violin beneath his chin and pointed his toes, then closed his eyes and put bow to string using the near perfect hold he had been practicing for a few hours each day since the final week of summer. He glided through the piece without a single pause in rhythm or awkward moment to mar its beauty. Laney beamed.

“Just extraordinary, Reggie. I’ve never had a student take to their instrument quite so naturally before. You really should be very proud.”

Reggie’s face felt suddenly hot. He wondered if he was blushing. “You’re a great teacher, Ms. Laney. That’s all it is, really.”

“I thank you for the compliment, but I assure you it isn’t me. You have a natural ear and are willing to do the hard work. Believe me, that’s a pretty rare combination for any teacher. Most of us know it as soon as we see it and the smart ones know enough to compliment it and do all we can to keep it going.”

Now Reggie was positive he was blushing. “Hey Ms. Laney, you know you probably shouldn’t say anything bad about your other students.”

“I wasn’t. I was simply drawing a comparison that was perfectly appropriate to the compliment. If I can’t offer an honest reflection between my students, I’m not running much of a studio. Besides, I feel as though you and I can be direct, especially considering what’s going on with your father.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Reggie said. “What do you want me to play now?”

“I would like you to try and play Cambia Espeta.”

Reggie whistled, a nervous sort of half twitter. “I haven’t learned it yet.”

“Just try,” Laney said. You’ve watched me play it for you every Saturday morning for the last six weeks. I know you’ve been paying attention. We have two more weekends to get this in shape before the recital, where I expect you will be playing it perfectly.”

“The recital? There’s no way, Ms. Laney. I can’t play Cambia Espeta. Not in two weeks. How about I play Hot Cross Buns? I’ll kill it!”

“I’m sure you would make it beg for mercy, but Hot Cross Buns is for beginners. I want you to play something more advanced. You can and you will. Follow my lead.” Laney glided through a stunning, though abbreviated version of the piece, then smiled and curtsied to Reggie, who then cleared his throat and crunched his way through an awkward yet reasonable echo.

“Wow,” Reggie said, dropping the instrument to his side. Laney just smiled.

“So how many other kids are going to be at this recital?”

“Twenty-one,” Laney said, tasting the number on her tongue. “Including you.”

Reggie whistled, full bodied this time. “That’s a lot.”

Laney agreed. “I never thought I’d have so many students, but when I moved out here at the beginning of summer, most of my old families followed. Plus I’ve picked up a couple of new students each month since. I think I’m gonna have to hang a No Vacancy sign on the doorknob any day now.” An accidental giggle escaped Laney’s lips and she leaned down and whispered in Reggie’s ear. “You’re still my favorite though. Okay, back to practice. This song isn’t going to learn itself.”

Reggie smiled, then put bow to string and played the piece a second time from memory. Finding comfort and confidence together, Reggie hit the notes slightly sweeter; the bow finding its way against the strings seemingly by instinct. Reggie finished and said, “Hello toes,” as he took his bow, then grinned at Laney. “How was that?”

Laney beamed right back. “Just beautiful,” she said, shaking her head in a mild cocktail of slight disbelief and undiluted wonder. “You’ll be playing it perfectly by the time of the recital, don’t you worry one bit. Let’s roll through it a few more times, and if you keep playing so sweetly, I might just have to go ahead and give you a cookie.”

“I knew I smelled them!” Reggie smiled. “What kind did you make this week?”

“Snickerdoodles. I think I read somewhere that they were the one cookie no kid could resist, though I just wanted to make them because I never have before.”

“Never?”

“Nope, never. So far, I haven’t made the same cookie twice. There are just too many to try and I’ve only been cooking for a few months now.”

Reggie was missing something. “What do you mean?”

“That’s my first kitchen.” Laney threw her right thumb behind her shoulder. “When I lived at home, my mom cooked every meal. Now I do everything myself.”

“When did you move out?” Reggie knew she had only lived in the house for a few months, but was having a hard time imagining she had still lived with her parents until then. She looked about his dad’s age and the idea of a grown up old enough to have kids almost ready for middle school still living at home was a bit weird. But Ms. Laney was super nice and surely had a reason.

“Three months ago,” Laney laughed. “I know, I know. What was a woman my age doing living with her parents for so long.”

“I get it.” Reggie nodded his head. “Your parents did everything for you, right? And you got to keep all the money you made from teaching because you didn’t have to spend it on stuff like food and rent and stuff. Makes perfect sense to me.”

Laney’s face was blank. “Something like that,” she finally said.

“Well, that’s probably why you’re so happy all the time.” then after a pause he added, “We’re you always this happy?”

Reggie thought that in that moment, Laney looked about as sad as a lady could ever look. He felt bad for having maybe pried and found himself suddenly wishing he’d never said a thing. “No, no I wasn’t.” Laney gave Reggie a weak attempt at a smile and then said. “Now let’s get back to the lesson. We’re almost finished and your father will probably be here any minute.”

They flew through the exercise a few more times, then Laney instructed Reggie to put his violin away while she played a string version of Green Day’s Basket Case just to make him smile.

“That was awesome, Ms. Laney,” he said.

“I really wish you would drop the Ms.,” she said. “Laney is just fine.”

“I know. I will.”

Laney went to the kitchen and placed an oversized sized snickerdoodle onto a napkin, folded it over the cookie, then brought it to the front room and handed it to Reggie. He took the cookie and stole a glance at the clock. It was five minutes after the hour. “Thanks for the cookie Ms… er, I mean Laney. I’m going to save it until I get home. I’m sure my dad’s gonna want half after having to spend a Saturday morning at work. He might already be waiting at home for me too. I should get going.”

“He’ll be here,” Laney said. “Just be patient.”

As if on cue, they heard the crunch of gravel as Reggie’s dad took the short cut through the rock garden like he always did. A second later the doorbell rang and echoed through the house. Reggie looked up at Laney and saw a smile so big that it easily reduced the sad look on her face just a few minutes before to barely rumor.

They rose from the sofa and Laney opened the door. “Hi there, handsome,” she said.

“Hi, Sweetheart.” Reggie’s father took Laney by the waist and kissed her softly on the lips. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

Reggie grinned and the three of them walked onto the drive, across the street, and just around the block. Reggie lifted the latch to the fence, which had been sticking a bit ever since his father had fixed it earlier last month, then held it open for his dad and the new girlfriend squeezing his arm.

“So how did the prodigy do today?” his dad asked.

“Your son is a dream.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” Reggie’s dad turned his attention to Reggie. “So, you gonna play at the recital”

“Like a dream…” Reggie said with a far off whisper, then rolled his eyes and laughed. The laughter felt good, and he was glad it had been coming a lot easier lately. He wasn’t sure if it was the lessons, his dad’s new girlfriend, or the combination of both, but Reggie was feeling better than he had in years. Despite what he might tell his dad or Laney, he wasn’t scared to play at the recital at all. He was looking forward to it. Most of the kids at his school were assholes, and three of the worst happened to be part of Ms. Laney’s studio.

Lincoln Armatto would probably choke on his Lemonheads when he heard him playing Cambia Speta, especially considering Reggie heard him warbling his way through a broken version of Hot Cross Buns the week before while waiting outside for Lincoln’s lesson to finish. Amy had also started taking lessons right after Laney moved in, and though he hadn’t heard her playing, she always thought she was at least twice as good at everything than she actually was.

“I can’t stay,” Laney kissed his father on the cheek, “I’ve got someone coming in fifteen minutes and another tray of snickerdoodles in the oven.”

“See you tonight, yes?”
 “Of course! Aren’t we still on for the Indiana Jones marathon?”

“Wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

“Hey, Ms. Laney,” Reggie called as she was half way out the door.

“Laney,” she said.

Reggie smiled. “Sorry, I’ll get used to it. I promise. You think that maybe someday you can teach me the score to Indiana Jones?”

“I think that if you keep practicing, little man, someday I’ll be asking you to teach me a thing or two.” Then she added, “Of course, I’ll teach you anything you’d like.”

The door closed quietly behind her and Reggie’s dad approached him from behind, gently squeezing his shoulders. “Thanks for being so great about all this,” he said. “You’ve really made it easy.”

“It’s nothing dad. It’s great to see you so happy.”

“I know you want me to be happy, I know you want us both to be happy, but I don’t ever want you to feel like my relationship with Laney, or anyone else, has anything to do with my feelings for Mom.”

“I get it, Dad.”

Reggie’s dad stared at his son, his expression a blend of gratitude and wonder. “You’re a great kid, Reggie. I’m really lucky.”

Reggie blushed.

His father stood, tousled his hair, then walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. He emptied the rest of the apple juice into a tall glass and began to gulp it down, trying to ignore the feelings of guilt and regret that had slowly mounted over the last few dozen months. Laney was a godsend, and whatever had brought her into his world and set her up just a dozen houses over, well it was something well worth his worship.

He walked into the living room, sat in a chair and picked up the top book from the short pile he’d been reading, An Unearthed Era, a recommendation from his good friend John. John had handed it to him about six months back, just before he left the country on an extended honey moon with a new bride he’d met maybe five minutes earlier. John had said, “You’ll love this book, buddy. I promise. It changed my life in more ways than one.” Pressed for details, John said nothing, just winked and gently pushed the book into his hands. The last thing he had felt like doing was reading and something about the title had pissed him off, so he had carelessly tossed the novel onto one of the few clean counters in the house the second he got home, where it had remained until Reggie’s second violin lesson and his first date with Laney. It was only when he was making a mad dash through the house to organize or toss everything in sight that he had stumbled upon the forgotten treasure. He set the book on the coffee table to read later, but was blindsided the following week when a look of pure delight luxuriated Laney’s long face. She saw the book on the coffee table and squealed. “I read that book about six months ago. It totally changed my life.”

Wow, he had thought. Now he couldn’t wait to turn the pages. So far he was only a third of the way in and didn’t quite know what to think, except that he did love reading it with the sound of Reggie playing his violin in the background.

He couldn’t have been prouder of his son and couldn’t wait to hear him play at the recital. He believed every word of Laney’s praise. Sure, she wanted to please him, but there was something about his boy that brought out the best in his girl and he could see it plainly on Laney’s face. It seemed as though all three of them had something to prove, each in their own way.

By the time the recital rolled around, Reggie could play Cambia as though he wrote it. Both his father and Laney held hands and watched him play through it for the final time without a larger audience, each of them dropping a tear for a different reason.

They both clapped. “That was beautiful,” his father said.

Reggie placed his instrument in its case with the care of a loving father, then latched it shut and said, “Well, I guess that means I’m ready.”

It was a short mile to the recital hall, a community center with a lone ping pong table that needed to be pushed to the corner, covered with a cloth, and converted to a dessert bar. Reggie was surprised by his own lack of nervousness. He felt nothing but excitement and perhaps the slightest bit of pride. “So we’re here,” he said, “Anyone want to turn this thing around, go back home, and watch the Matrix or something?”

“Kind of,” two voices from the front seat said together. The car filled with laughter and three doors opened in unison. Outside the car, Laney turned to Reggie and said. “If you want to know the truth, this is the first time I haven’t been scared out of my wits right before a recital. Usually I’m running in circles in my head.”

“You’ll do great,” Reggie winked.

“You too.”

There was an hour worth of prep and setup before the recital began. The entire time Laney buzzed cheerfully about the room, eagerly greeting each new family as they walked through the door. At two minutes after the top of the hour, she gently clapped her hands, stepped up to the stage and started the recital.

Reggie did nothing to stand apart from the other students, fading into their harmonies like a whistle in the wind. Even though it was clearly printed on the program, there were a few surprised giggles when Reggie’s solo was announced and he took the front of the stage.

Reggie placed the violin under his chin, closed his eyes and thought about his mom, heard her whisper encouragement from some far off nowhere, then put bow to string and filled the air with splendor.

Amy Davis dropped her bow about thirty seconds into the piece and Lincoln Armatto swallowed his gum. Most of the audience was crying. Laney was swimming in slightly removed deja vu as she stood in front of the podium. Reggie’s dad looked on them both, giving his son the widest smile to spread across his face in at least three years.

Reggie bowed to his waist then rose from the floor beaming. It was only then, standing fully straight and staring at the audience, that he saw him – the man leaning against the exit, pride and wonder written on his face and a beautiful girl leaning on his arm.

How long had it been? Reggie wondered, counting back the near year in his head. It was all he could do not to leap from the stage and run toward the door.

The remainder of the recital passed in adagio. Laney ended the recital with a performance of Mendelssohn in E Minor. Reggie hurried through his final bow, then ran off the stage and toward his “Uncle” slightly faster than his legs were willing to go. He stumbled and flew forward, but John caught him at the last second, just before he would’ve toppled right into the lady now sitting beside him.

“Careful there young buck,” John grinned. “My lady here is delicate.”

It was only then that Reggie noticed the swollen belly, hidden before beneath the rows of chairs. Reggie’s dad came up behind John, slapped him on the back and then pulled him into a tight embrace. “How have you been, man? It’s good to see you. And you…” he turned to Lisa. “I heard, I just didn’t believe. You are every bit as beautiful as John said.”

“Yeah, Uncle John said you were pretty, but I think you look like a movie star.” Lisa blushed. “When is the baby due?” Reggie asked.

“In another two months. If I can make it that long.”

“So….” John said to his brother, wondering when he was going to meet his best friend’s new better half.

“Just be patient,” he said. “She’ll be over in a second.” Reggie’s dad caught Laney’s eye and silently pulled her toward their huddle. She practically skipped over and said, “So, I finally get to meet the famous John.” She held her hand out, but John ignored it and pulled Laney into a tender hug. “It’s wonderful to meet you,” he said.

John offered his hand to Lisa and gently pulled her to her feet. “This is my wife, Lisa,” he said.

Lisa gasped.

“We’ve met,” Laney said.

Writer Dad

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