Blue set a beer
down in front of Corbin when Corbin returned from the stage. Blue was grinning,
which made Corbin suspicious.
“This beer come
from the young lady over your left shoulder. Brunette. Very pretty,” he said
in his deep, raspy voice.
“Which one?”
Corbin asked, scanning the crowd.
“You know who
Jean Simmons is?”
Corbin squinted
at Blue. “From KISS?”
“No, the
actress. . . 1950’s. She was in that movie with Brando and Sinatra. She kind
a’ look like her.”
“Sounds temping,
but I’ll pass.”
“You ain’t gonna
wanna pass on this one.”
Corbin started
to protest, but Blue grabbed his arm.
“I promised I’d
send you over if I had to carry you. You gonna make a liar outta me?”
Corbin
chuckled. “All right, but just because we’re friends.”
It took Corbin
only a few seconds to spot the woman. She would have stood out in any crowd.
She was sitting at a small table with her back to the bar, wearing a green
vintage dress from the 1940s. The dress had an hourglass shape and was cut
tightly around the knees, where it flared out before finishing mid-calf. Her
auburn-brown hair was held up in a twist, exposing her neck. One hand
gracefully stirred a martini glass with a straw. The other rested in her lap.
As Corbin
approached, he suddenly recognized her as the woman with the pink flower,
though she didn’t have the flower with her tonight. “Blue, you sneaky dog,” he
said to himself. He pulled back his shoulders and said, “May I join you?”
“Please do,” she
said confidently, though she began nervously shaking her crossed leg.
“Thanks for the
beer.”
“You’re
welcome.”
“Did you like the
performance?”
She smiled.
“You’re very good.”
“Thank you.”
Neither seemed
to know what to say next. They stared at each other in silence for a few
seconds. Both of their hearts were beating faster.
“Can I ask you a
question?” Corbin finally said, as he tried to suppress the grin slowly taking
over his face.
The woman
lightly brushed a stray hair from her face before nodding.
“Why the pink
flower?”
“Pink flower?” Now
she too struggled to suppress a grin.
“I’m pretty sure
you had a pink flower on your table when I first saw you,” Corbin said, resting
both arms on the table.
“Fascinating,”
she replied breathlessly.
“That’s not a
denial.”
“It’s not a
confirmation either. Why the change in your music?” she countered.
“Change?”
The woman looked
down at the table. She ran her fingers up and down the stem of her martini
glass. “You haven’t noticed?” she said, with a hint of disappointment.
“I take it, you
mean more than just the playlist?”
“Don’t tell me
you really haven’t noticed?”
Corbin
reluctantly shook his head.
“You haven’t
heard the incredible passion in your music lately?”
“Passion?”
“For the past
month or so, in everything you’ve played.”
Corbin raised an
eyebrow. “Wow, no one’s ever told me that before.”
The woman tilted
her head to one side and half-squinted one eye. “You’re kidding?”
“No, honestly.
I’d love to hear more.”
She smiled. For
the first time, she noticeably blushed.
“I’ve just had a
thought,” Corbin said. “I noticed you haven’t eaten, and I’m pretty hungry
myself, and it sounds like this could take some time. And as much as I like
Blue, he’s not the best cook. But I know this wonderful Mexican place in
Ballston. They’re open until three in the morning. Want to join me for some
very late dinner?”
“What should I
say to that?”
“Say ‘yes.’ No
one can resist Mexican food after midnight.”
Molly lounged
more than sat on Corbin’s desk with her legs crossed at the knee and one foot
propped up on the extra chair. The other foot bounced around in the air out in
front of her, with her high-heeled sandal dancing from the ends of her toes.
Her hands were on the desk behind her, balancing her body as she leaned
backwards. It was high-summer and Molly was as skimpily dressed as the dress
code would allow. Above her tan stockings she wore a tan miniskirt and a white
silk blouse with rolled-up sleeves and a wide open collar. A silver chain hung
around her neck with two intersecting hearts. This was a gift from Shoe Guy,
whom she was still dating.
Corbin slumped
in his chair. His light-gray suit looked wrinkled and his tie rested loosely
around his neck. The top button on his shirt was unbuttoned.
“What happened
to you?” Molly asked.
“What do you
mean?” Corbin asked through half-open eyes.
“You look like
you haven’t slept, you’re grinning like an idiot, and no offense, but you smell
like a Mexican restaurant. Beyond that everything seems normal,” Molly added
sarcastically. She pushed her hair back over her ear. It was blonder than it
had been in the past, but was still brunette. “Wait a minute, you’re hung over,
aren’t you?!” She grinned mischievously and leaned toward Corbin. “I’m not
giving you a headache am I?!” she said as loudly as she could without yelling.
“Sorry, no such
luck.”
She leaned back
again. “So, what happened? You get a night job in a taco factory?”
“No, haven’t
been to bed yet.”
“
Really
,
what gives?” She sat up straight, bringing both feet to rest on the chair and
folding her arms across her knees.
Corbin smiled.
“Come on,
spill.”
Corbin shook his
head.
“Come on, just
between us girls.” She tapped him lightly on the shoulder.
Corbin just
smirked.
“Tell me!” she
commanded, as she shoved his shoulder.
Corbin chuckled.
“I’ll forget the
cookie you owe me,” she offered.
“I don’t owe you
a cookie,” Corbin objected.
“Yes, you do. .
.
tell me
!” she pleaded.
“All right,”
Corbin finally relented “I met this woman last night.”
“All this,”
Molly said, waving one hand at Corbin’s disheveled suit and his sleepy eyes,
“for a woman? Is she the first one you’ve met or something?”
“It seemed that
way last night.”
This caught Molly
by surprise. “Wow. Go on.”
“She’s amazing.
. . smart, witty. . . wickedly funny. She’s one of those people who’s thought
about a million things in detail and can discuss any topic intelligently. Wide
range of interests.”
“Nice
personality, huh?” Molly rolled her eyes.
“As a matter of
fact, yes. I’ve never been so comfortable talking to anyone in my life.”
“Hoo boy, this
sounds like trouble.”
“She’s beautiful
too. . . gorgeous green eyes.”
“Does this goddess
have a name?” Molly’s question contained more than a hint of derision.
“Penny.”
“
Penny
?
Don’t tell me, her last name is Lincoln or Fromdamint?”
Corbin didn’t
respond.
“So where did
you meet her? Sidewalk? Bank? Numismatist convention?”
Corbin ignored
Molly’s continuing sarcasm. “No, she showed up at the club. We talked for
about an hour and then went to Cafe Rio over in Ballston.”
“I know the
place. What happened next?”
“Nothing. We
stayed there until they kicked us out about 3:30. We talked a little longer
outside by the patio. Then I went home.”
“You went home.
. .
alone
?!”
“Yeah.”
“Talked?”
“Yeah.”
“Just talked?”
“Just talked.”
“That’s one heck
of a story, but the ending needs work.”
Corbin shrugged
his shoulders.
Over the next
couple weeks, Corbin and Penny spent most of their free time together. Not
only did they meet at the club whenever Corbin played, but they often went out
afterwards. They also met for lunch several times, dinner twice, and caught a
concert at the Kennedy Center. When they weren’t out on the town, they spent
most of their time at Corbin’s apartment. Though Penny’s apartment in Old Town
was equally nice, she lived with her sister, which limited their privacy, so
they tended to end up at his place. Tonight, they were wandering through
Pentagon City Mall. Ostensibly, they were waiting for a movie, but the movie
had long since started without them.
“Let me get this
straight. You liked my dress, but you didn’t want to tell me because of what
some coworker told you?”
“I know, it
sounds stupid. But it was one of those random thoughts that just hit me at the
wrong time. Just as I was about to say something, I had this vision, and I
didn’t want to become your version of Shoe Guy.”
Penny laughed
and shook her head. “I would never do that. So you liked the dress?”
“Absolutely.
You were stunning.”
“I got it at my
sister’s shop.” Penny’s sister owned
a vintage
clothing store in Fairfax, where Penny got many of her clothes. Penny let go
of Corbin’s hand and spun around, causing the skirt of her white polka dot
dress to twirl around her knees. “I got this one at her shop too. You like?”
“Sure do.”
They joined
hands again and kissed. Penny needed to stand on tip toes to reach his lips,
despite the extra few inches her shoes gave her.
“You know, you
never did tell me why you brought the flower?”
“Oh, we’re back
to this pink rose mirage again?” Penny teased Corbin, rolling her eyes in an
exaggerated motion while pulling away from him, though not letting go of his
hand. “You know, I’ve never admitted to being this mystery girl that has you
so fascinated.”
Corbin laughed.
“Fine, don’t tell me.”
“Isn’t it more
fun trying to figure it out?” She poked him playfully in the side.
“So you admit it
then?”
“I admit nothing.”
As they passed a
music store, Penny stopped again. “You know what we should do? You should let
me photograph you for an album cover!” Penny was a freelance photographer and
a graphic design artist. She worked for four local ad agencies on commission,
though any one of them gladly would have hired her full time.
“An album
cover? There’s no album,” Corbin protested.
Penny grabbed
the loops on Corbin’s brown corduroy pants and pulled him toward her. “There
will be.” She stepped up to kiss him again. “Seriously, let’s do a photo
shoot. I’ve done album work before. How do you feel about nudes?” she said as
seriously as she could, but then broke into laughter.
“I’ll pass,”
Corbin said, grinning with embarrassment. “But if I ever do an album, you can
definitely shoot me, just not naked.”
As they
continued, they came to a high-end jewelry store.
“Look at those
diamonds,” Penny said, pulling Corbin toward the counter. Penny pointed to a
diamond-encrusted silver necklace with a price tag in the mid-six figures. A
sign said the necklace was from 1934. “They’re so pretty. I love the colors.
The necklace is beautiful too.”
“Fine, I’ll buy
it for you,” Corbin joked.
Penny laughed.
“I had no idea you were so rich?”
“I’ve been
putting my spare change into a huge jar in my kitchen. I think I just might
have enough.”
“I thought maybe
you were going to remind me that you’re a rich lawyer,” she teased him.
“Sure, rub it
in.”
She smiled.
“That’s ok, honey, I like you anyway, even if you are a lawyer.” She looked at
the necklace again. “It is pretty, but I honestly wouldn’t want it. I love
shooting diamonds, because they play some of the greatest tricks with the
light, but they’re not my style. Now vintage clothes, that’s a completely
different matter!”
“What the heck
are you doing?” Corbin asked after hearing the clicking noise for a third time,
followed by yet another “thunk.” He was sitting on his couch with the
television on mute.
“I’m putting,”
Alvarez responded through the phone.
“You’re what?”
“Putting.”
“As in golf?”
“Yeah. I
thought I’d teach myself golf. So I bought a club and I’m learning to putt.”
“You’re indoors,”
Corbin said skeptically.
“Yeah.”
“You’re playing
on hardwood floors.”
“Yeah. So?”
“Golf is played
on grass.”
“Hey, you’ve got
your hobbies, let me have mine. Get back to the story. What happened next?”
“She looks me
straight in the eyes and she says, ‘you’re not a jerk are you?’”
Alvarez
laughed. “She’s perceptive!”
“Very funny.”
“What was her
name again?”
“Natalie. She’s
Penny’s older sister.”
“Whose idea was
it for the three of you to go to lunch?”
“Mine actually.”
“Then you got
what you deserved.”
“Ha ha.
Actually, we had a good time after we went a couple rounds. I felt bad for
Penny though, she looked like she was going to die of embarrassment when her
sister started smacking me with questions.”
“Is this Natalie
cute?”
“I’d say yes.”
“Did you mention
you had an uber-successful friend named Vez who just happens to be single at
the moment?”
“It slipped my
mind.”
“Maybe you should
write a note to remind yourself or something? That seems like a pretty
critical detail to forget.” Both friends laughed. “Seriously, I would— oh
shoot!”
“What?”
“I just overshot
the cup. My ball bounced off the balcony. I hope there’s nobody in the
pool.” Alvarez lived on the fourth floor, overlooking the apartment building’s
pool.
“Are you
serious?”
“Yeah.” Alvarez
walked over to the balcony. “Oh good, the pool’s empty.”
“Why are you
putting with the door open?”
“It’s hot in
here, and I wasn’t putting
toward
the door. It ricocheted off the
wall.”
“How hard did
you hit it?”
“Too hard,
apparently.”
“You’re a menace,”
Corbin said.
“So how did
lunch end? Did you two become fast friends?”
“I think so.
Penny called later to tell me her sister really liked me, despite her
attitude.”
“She’s just
trying to make you feel better. She’s probably trying to figure out how to
dump you right now.”
“Thanks.”
“Any time.”
“How’s work
going?”
“Dull.”
“That’s not what
I meant.”
“I know.”
Corbin and Penny
were in the park.
About a hundred
people were scattered about enjoying the afternoon sun. The wind blew gently
toward the Potomac, which raced silently by a few hundred yards from where
Corbin and Penny sat on a blanket under a large Yellow-Poplar. Their bikes
leaned against the tree. The Lincoln Memorial stood across the wide river, and
Roslyn rose out of the trees behind them. Between Corbin and Penny sat a
picnic basket. A chocolate lab watched the basket intently from a distance.
Penny covered
her mouth with her hand. She was blushing. “Oh my God! I can’t believe I
told you that! I’ve never told that to anyone before.”
“I can see why!
You’ve got a dirty mind.”
“I do not!”
Penny responded defensively, reaching over and mussing Corbin’s hair.
Corbin playfully
tugged at the knot Penny had tied in the yellow cotton dress shirt she wore.
Without the knot, the shirt would have been way too large, as it belonged to
Corbin until a few days ago, before she borrowed it after getting caught in a
rainstorm on her way to his apartment.
Penny pushed his
hand away from the knot. “All right smarty, your turn! Favorite instrument
other than guitar.”
“The noble
cello
.
I’ve always thought the cello was the sexiest instrument.”
Penny giggled.
“What?” Corbin
asked.
“I play cello.”
“You’re
kidding?!” He’d seen the cello at her apartment, but assumed it belonged to
her sister because Penny never mentioned that she played.
“No, seriously,”
Penny replied. “Maybe I’ll play for you next time you come over.”
“You’re seriously
not making this up?”
“I swear,” Penny
pledged. She smiled involuntarily at the look in his eye. For several days
now, she’d noticed a soft sparkle in his eyes, which gave her a warm and
comfortable feeling. She couldn’t quite describe it, and her sister told her
she was crazy, but she was sure it was there.
“When was the
last time you played?”
“Last night.”
“
After
you went home from the club?”
“Yes.”
“So, if we went
to your place right now, you could play something for me?”
“Yes,” she said
softly, looking away from Corbin for the first time.
“What did you
play last night?”
“The piece you
opened with,” she replied cautiously.
Corbin stared at
her in silence, as she watched some children throwing a frisbee back and forth.
“Girl, you are making me fall hard.”
“I guess we have
something in common.”
Corbin played
Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Fridays were generally the busiest, but
Tuesdays and Sundays were catching up. Today was Friday, and the club was
packed. In fact, the audience had grown so much lately Blue needed to buy more
chairs to accommodate them, though the extra money he made from drink sales
more than offset this new expense. The extra money also allowed Blue to fix up
the place. Gone were the burned-up lights that made everything brown. In
their place, he’d put silvery lights that shone indirectly off the cherry wood
paneling on the walls. This highlighted the accents in the wood, rather than
casting them in shadow as the browning lights had done, and made the bar feel a
bit like an ancient library, though the crowd noise and the ever-present smell
of fried foods reminded people of the room’s true purpose. Blue also replaced
the glaring white stage lights with softer, golden lights which gave everything
on stage a dreamlike quality.
Corbin made his
way to the bar, where Penny and Blue were talking. Corbin walked up behind
Penny and kissed her on the back of the neck. Without turning around, Penny
swatted him away. A huge grin lit her face.
“Not now, my
boyfriend’s going to arrive any minute.” Penny laughed and turned to hug
Corbin tightly.
“What you
playin’ tonight?” Blue asked Corbin.
“I’ve got
something special planned, Blue.”
“Are you finally
playing
the
piece?” Penny asked, releasing Corbin.
“That’s the
one,” Corbin said.
Penny clasped her
hands. “I’m so excited! Blue, I’ve been
dying
to hear this piece, ever
since Alex mentioned it. He wrote it himself, and the little I’ve heard is
incredible, but he won’t let me hear the whole thing. He keeps telling me
‘it’s not ready yet’,” she said trying to mimic Corbin’s deeper voice.
Corbin backed
away from the bar, toward the stage. “You’ll still be here when I get back,
right?”
“I can’t make
any promises,” she said, closing her eyes and blowing Corbin a kiss.
This was the
first piece of music Corbin ever wrote. It was an incredibly complex piece,
but years of practice let him play it perfectly. Indeed, he’d played it
thousands of times, just not for anyone else. It was also a deeply emotional
piece. In fact, it captured his emotions perfectly because every time he
played it to himself, he refined it depending on his mood. He worked on the
sad parts when he felt sad and the uplifting parts when he felt happy. It was
his release. He recorded each of his triumphs, his failures, his hopes, his
dreams and his dreads in this single piece of music, and he’d captured his own
emotions so well that sometimes he could make himself laugh or tear up just by
playing certain sections. And when he hit one of those moments, where he felt
a genuine emotional response, he would study it and use that raw emotion to
refine the rest. Slowly but surely he recreated his soul in musical form. This
was what he played that warm September night, and no audience at the Bluetone
ever cheered so loud. Some cried, some laughed, and some just felt themselves
swept away.
When he
finished, Corbin made his way back to the bar. As he walked through the
still-entranced crowd, several people thanked him and shook his hand. Others
stood and applauded.
Penny slid off
the barstool as Corbin approached. She’d obviously been crying, as her mascara
had run. Now she looked at Corbin with such admiration that it startled him; her
face held the same expression as a child’s when they meet their hero.
“That was
amazing,” she shouted over the din of the frenetic crowd. She wrapped her arms
around him as tightly as she could.
“Thanks!”
Two more patrons
patted Corbin on the back.
Penny loosened
her grip and leaned back in his arms so she could look up into his face. More tears
appeared in her eyes. “God, I could almost feel what you were feeling when you
were playing. The whole room just vanished. It was like I was alone with
you. It was surreal.” She hugged him again.
Blue joined them
after making change for a customer. He smiled broadly. “I can’t believe you
waited to play that! People started coming up before you finished. They said,
‘do you have a recording.’ I told ’em ‘no, not yet.’ They told me, ‘can we
sign up to get one.’ You got to record that!”