Songs of Christmas (35 page)

“Good, call me right away. We’re still on for New Year’s Eve, right?” He glanced at her as if he wondered if she had forgotten his invitation.

“Of course. I’m looking forward to it.”

“I am, too. I made reservations for dinner in Spoon Harbor. Just making sure.” He smiled and put her hand to his lips a second. “Maybe you’ll know by then, one way or the other,” he added quietly.

“Maybe.”

Though neither of them dared say it, Amanda felt she knew what he was thinking. That very soon, not only would she know about her own future, but about the future of their relationship, too.

Chapter Fourteen

O
N THE DAY OF HER AUDITION,
A
MANDA WOKE AT SIX, WELL
before her alarm sounded. The trip to Portland usually took about two hours, but it was a Monday morning, and there might be traffic on the interstate, even at this time of year. She had to get on the road by seven if she wanted to leave herself a comfortable cushion of time. She hated to rush before an interview, especially if she had to perform.

When she came downstairs, her parents were already in the kitchen, drinking coffee. “I can drive you if you want,” Molly offered. “That way you can relax and you won’t be stressed from driving and trying to find the address and all that.”

This was her umpteenth offer to chauffeur, and while Amanda was tempted, she really wanted to do this on her own.

“I’ll be fine, Mom. Besides, I’m staying over at Melissa’s tonight, remember?”

“Oh, right. I forgot. Well, make sure you call or text when you get there.”

“And again when you’re done,” her father added. “We want to hear what happened right away.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I finish,” she promised.

Amanda grabbed a travel mug of coffee and a muffin and yogurt for the car. She kissed them both good-bye and grabbed her portfolio of music.

“Here, let me help you with the cello,” her father said.

She could have handled it on her own, but knew it made him feel better to do something for her.

Her parents looked cute, she thought, standing in the doorway, waving good-bye. They wore long bathrobes that matched. They matched, too, she thought. It was so nice to see how much they loved each other, even after all these years. Amanda hoped she could have a marriage like that someday. That would be as fine an accomplishment as any.

A few minutes later, she was driving along Beach Road, heading for the highway. Her iPod was plugged into the car stereo, playing some of the pieces she planned to perform, recorded by the real stars of classical music.

The traffic on the highway was very light for a Monday morning, due to the holidays, Amanda guessed. She arrived at the concert hall with time to spare, just as she had hoped. After letting a receptionist know she was there, she was given a key to a practice room where she could warm up. As she made her way to the practice room, she passed another musician, also carrying a cello, but on his way to the performance area.
My competition,
she realized. She forced a small smile, and the young man barely smiled back. He looked pale and distracted.

That’s what I’m going to look like about an hour from now,
she realized. She checked the time on her cell phone and found a text message from Lauren.

Break a leg. Or should I tell you a finger? Wait, don’t break anything. But good luck. Hope you get it. Let me know ASAP. XO.

Lauren’s message cheered her, and she sent a short note back. No message from Gabriel, she noticed. She suddenly wished she could hear his voice. Just for a second.

She played for a while, reviewing the toughest sections of her pieces. When she felt sufficiently loose and focused, she checked her phone again. Still no message from him. Then just as she was about to put the phone away, she saw a message and opened it.

A photo of a bare foot?

Good luck, Amanda. I know you don’t need it. I know you’ll knock their socks off.

She laughed and wrote him back quickly.
Thanks for the laugh. I do feel a little nervous.

She was about to erase the admission, then left it. She could always be honest with him; he never judged her.
P.S. Was that your foot?

He wrote back quickly.
I know you must be nervous. It’s only natural. Just pretend all the judges aren’t there, and you’re playing in the sanctuary. Yes, that was my foot. What’s wrong with it?

She knew that he meant, pretend you’re alone and no one is listening. But she suddenly realized she could do her best if she pretended that only Gabriel was listening. The insight immediately calmed her, and she felt a surprising burst of confidence. As if she suddenly had a secret weapon.

Good advice, thx,
she wrote without telling him her real plan.
Nothing wrong with the foot. Thought it might be a photo from a supermarket tabloid. Proof of Sasquatch?

Good one,
he wrote back.
Tell some jokes. It will get them in a good mood.
Then he signed with a smiley face and a big XO.

Finally Amanda put the phone away. A second later, a sharp knock on the door told her it was showtime. She took a few deep, steadying breaths and headed for her audition.

* * *

SHE KNEW IT HAD TAKEN A HALF HOUR, OR MAYBE LONGER. BUT THE
time went by in a blur. All she could remember was walking onstage with her instrument and sitting down. She had to enter through a stage door and had not seen the inside of the hall. It was quite stunning, with brand-new blond wood everywhere she looked and sleek black seating. The stage curtains were so high, she was embarrassed to tip her head back that far to see the top of them. Beautiful modular chandeliers dropped down from the ceiling, providing light over the rows of seats. The stage lights were on and the seating area dark. It took her eyes a few moments to adjust.

She saw three people seated in a row about midway back, one woman and two men. They introduced themselves. One was the orchestra’s artistic director, but Amanda immediately forgot the names and titles of the others. They each had a copy of her résumé and asked questions about her studies and her different jobs.

Finally, she was asked to play. She announced the pieces she had chosen, and they selected two and told her the order they wanted to hear them in. As requested, she had brought along copies of the pieces so they could follow along—and see where she missed notes and made mistakes.

But she tried not to think of that. She started off the first piece with less conviction and expression than she had planned, and that threw her off a bit. But very soon she remembered to pretend that she was not in the huge, intimidating concert hall at all but back in the cozy sanctuary of the stone church on the green. Back in Cape Light, playing her heart out with only Gabriel listening, smiling warmly as she played, the music making his eyes even brighter. Looking at her sometimes as if she were the most amazing person in the entire world.

Finally it was over. Amanda felt as if she were coming out of a trance. The interview panel thanked her. She couldn’t really tell if they had liked her performance or not. She knew she had tried her best and done a good job. And she tried to remember that beyond that, it was truly out of her control.

There’s a plan for me,
she reminded herself,
and if this job is meant to be, it’s meant to be
.

* * *

AMANDA WAS BARRELING DOWN THE HIGHWAY, JUST THREE EXITS
from Cape Light, when her cell phone rang. Lost in thoughts about her date tonight with Gabriel, she glanced at the screen quickly, hoping it was him. She felt a flicker of irritation as she saw the name Stephan Guillet. Who was Stephan Guillet? She didn’t know anyone by that name.

And then she realized she did. That was the name of the artistic director of the Portland Orchestra!

Amanda’s heart raced as she signaled and pulled off onto the shoulder of the highway. Because she knew that she couldn’t possibly drive safely while taking this call, no matter which way the decision went.

“This is Amanda,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Hello, Amanda. This is Stephan Guillet.” The tone of his voice was cool, giving nothing away. “We were wondering if you would be willing to be our fourth-chair cello.”

“Oh my God.” Amanda breathed the words, a prayer of astonishment and gratitude.

“Is that a yes or a no?” he asked, sounding perplexed.

“It’s a yes,” Amanda told him, trying to keep from shouting with joy. “It is most definitely a yes!”

* * *

A SHORT TIME LATER, SHE STOOD IN FRONT OF HER MIRROR, GETTING
ready for her New Year’s Eve date with Gabriel. She glanced at the shimmery top Lauren had made her keep, then put on a pair of sparkling rhinestone earrings. But her mind wasn’t on her outfit. All she could think about was that she would soon be telling Gabriel her good news. She had almost called him the second she hung up with Mr. Guillet, but she decided to wait and tell him in person. She had never been so happy and excited about anything in her life, and she just knew he would feel the exact same way. This would be a New Year’s Eve to celebrate!

Gabriel came to the door, looking too handsome for words in a deep blue dress shirt, tweed jacket, and brand-new jeans.

He came in just a minute to wish her parents a happy New Year, and then they were off. They were going to a restaurant in Spoon Harbor that had a live band and a dance floor. Amanda was looking forward to dancing. She still had a lot of nervous energy to work out.

“You look pretty spectacular for a girl who just went through the wringer,” he said.

“I feel pretty spectacular,” she replied. She paused, not knowing if she should tell him her news yet. She had thought she might wait until dinner but she wasn’t sure she could hold back that long.

He glanced at her, sensing something was up. “Did you hear anything yet?” he asked.

She nodded quickly. “I did . . . when I was driving back. The artistic director called and offered me the job. I was so excited when he called, I could barely see the road. I had to pull over. And then I just sat there in my car for, like, five minutes, yelling, ‘Yes! I did it! I won a chair in a symphony orchestra!’”

“Amanda, that’s fantastic! I knew you could do it,” he said happily. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I was going to call you, right after he called me,” she admitted. “But I wanted to tell you in person.”

“So which pieces did you play for them?”

“They only wanted to hear two. That scared me. So I played the Mozart and the Vivaldi, the one you like.”

He nodded. “I had a feeling. What did your parents say?”

“They’re really happy for me—and so glad they didn’t have to deal with another wailing and groaning scene.”

“I bet they would have put up with you, but this news is much better. When do you start?”

That was the question she didn’t want to answer. Her mood suddenly swung from high to low.

“I have to go back right away. They want me at rehearsals on Thursday.”

“This Thursday? That’s the day after tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” It did sound awfully soon when he said it that way. “I’m going to pack tomorrow morning and drive back up in the afternoon.”

There would probably be no time to see him again before she left either, she realized.

“That sounds like professional baseball. When they call you out of Triple-A to the majors, you have to drop everything and go.”

“I guess it is a lot like that.” Amanda didn’t know anything about baseball, but trusted his analogy.

“Will you stay in a hotel or something until you find an apartment?”

“My friend Melissa has an extra bedroom. She’s been thinking of looking for a roommate to help with the rent but didn’t want to deal with a stranger. So she offered me a place for as long as I need it.”

“That’s lucky. One less thing to worry about.”

She nodded. That was true. There were a few things to figure out before Thursday, but the thing that worried her most was her relationship with Gabriel. Would they be able to keep things going long distance? Or should they just let it go? They had never really talked about their relationship—what it meant to them, or where they saw it going. It had been too soon for one of those conversations, Amanda realized. But now it seemed important to clarify things. Important but so hard to do. She had never been good at that sort of thing.

“It’s nice that you have a good friend there, someone who can introduce you to people,” Gabriel went on, his voice even. “It’s hard to move to a new place not knowing anyone.”

“I guess that is a plus. I didn’t really think about it. I’ll be working so hard to catch up—there will be reams of music to learn—I doubt I’ll have much time for a social life.”

“Well, sure, but you’re definitely going to make some new friends up there. You’ll get to know the people you work with and all that. It’s going to be a whole new world for you, Amanda.” He turned and smiled, but the expression didn’t seem to reach his eyes.