Still coming to the wedding? “Oh, my God, Leah, of course,” I say, pulling her into a hug. “Nothing would keep me away.”
She lets out a sigh of relief and smiles. “Good. I’ll call you tomorrow?”
I nod my head and help her into the front. We still have a lot to talk about. Things aren’t completely right between us, but she’s my sister. No matter how bitter or bad things may seem, I’d rather be mad at her than not have her at all.
I played hooky from work today. In fact, I’ve stayed home for the last three days. It is out of character but I just couldn’t bring myself to go.
Leah has given me a lot to think about. On Monday, I woke up feeling sorry for myself. Mad at what I have done to my family. I stayed in bed all day and didn’t get up.
That afternoon, Crystal texted to see if I was okay. She mentioned Asher was looking for me. I told her I was ill and would be out for a few days.
That night, I heard the roar of an engine and the ring of my doorbell. I didn’t answer it. When I opened my apartment door the next morning I noticed a purple rose taped to my front door. Purple:Enchantment. I wonder what my song would have been.
On Tuesday, I sat on the chesterfield and thought about the last ten months of my life. Leah is right. A lot did change after I met Asher. As much as I hate what he did, he helped me overcome some of my fears. My fear of speed, my fear of playing music and most importantly, he made me feel. Even if that feeling became anger in the end, it was pure emotion running through me.
That night, I ignored the knock on the door and cursed Mattie for being the one who is probably letting Asher into the building. When I heard the engine roar off in the distance, I open the door to see another rose taped to it. Fuchsia:Appreciation.
Yesterday, I spent my third and final day locked in the house looking through every photo album I own. I looked at pictures of Leah, Luke, and I through the years. I opened scrapbooks my mom created for me of every recital program, newspaper clipping, and accomplishment I ever enjoyed. I surprised myself at how nice it felt to look at everything I achieved. Instead of looking through my memories for contempt of what I lost, I looked on with feelings of joy and a renewed vow to be great again. Maybe not in music, but in something else. I accomplished so much, and I’m only twenty-five. Imagine what I can do in twenty-five more years?
Last night’s rose was red.
Today is Thanksgiving. I didn’t go home for the holiday. The banquet for the Juliette Academy is this weekend and the quick turnaround for holiday travel is too much. Plus, Leah and Adam’s wedding is in two weeks. I’ll be home for that.
Instead of eating my mom’s turkey and dad’s famous stuffing, I am spending the day doing something I have been wanting to do since arriving in New York. I am going to explore the city.
All by myself, dressed up and ready for my date of one, I hop on the subway and trek uptown to Lincoln Center to see Yo-Yo Ma perform with the New York Philharmonic. Since I only needed one, I was easily able to get a ticket to the almost sold-out show online.
Walking through Lincoln Center, I feel the old giddiness I used to get as a kid going to see a performance. I walk through the elegant buildings, taking in the sights. I’ve been here before with my parents and once for a competition, but tonight it feels different.
It is just as amazing as I dreamed. I have listened to Yo-Yo Ma’s music and seen him play on YouTube, but never live.
When the performance is over I walk across the street and grab dinner at Café Fiorello. While eating, I scroll through my phone and order more tickets for this weekend. Tomorrow, I am going to the opera. Saturday, I am going to see a Broadway matinee and then the ballet. And on Sunday I am going to watch Allyce play my violin in the park. I call my parents for the holiday and spend an exorbitant amount of time telling my mom about the concert and the school and the city . . .
By the time the waiter comes with my check, I have a weekend of the arts fully booked and my mom and I are laughing and talking, she is completely neglecting her holiday company.
And when I get home I have a beautiful bouquet of mixed wild flowers waiting for me outside my door. Once I am securely inside my apartment I hear the familiar sound of a motorcycle rumble down the street. I may have a new sense of purpose, but my feelings for Alexander Asher have not changed.
What they are, exactly, is up for debate.
chapter TWENTY-THREE
My stiletto heel sinks in the lush carpeting of the Starlight Roof at the Waldorf-Astoria. This is my first New York City event and so far it is as visually stunning as anything I could have dreamed up.
The landmark hotel banquet room has a gilded ceiling of art deco design, illuminated by Austrian crystal chandeliers. In front of a wall of windows is a thirteen-piece band on a stage, surrounded by banquet tables. In the middle is a dance floor of black and white design.
Six hundred guests came out for tonight’s occasion, all dressed in elegance.
I look over at Crystal in her black, one-shoulder gown with beading along the bodice. Her curls are pinned up, her beautiful porcelain skin glows. Lisa is here with her husband. She is wearing a navy cocktail dress with a matching wrap. Her husband looks handsome in a tuxedo, even if he doesn’t appear to be happy to be wearing one
I am wearing a strapless, dark purple chiffon dress I borrowed from Crystal. I was very happy to see it fit, though not as well as it would Crystal’s hourglass figure. I paired the dress with metallic gold shoes and a necklace that used to be my grandmother’s.
Crystal and I spent the afternoon getting our hair done. I opted to keep my blonde tresses down but I did let the stylist at the Louis Licari salon talk me into getting highlights. After two hours of foils and glaze, I was nervous to see the transformation. I had never done anything to my hair, aside from dipping it in Kool-Aid when I was thirteen, streaking a few strands red.
Noting my hesitation, Crystal insisted I not look until everything was done. I felt like one of those women on theToday Showwho get makeovers that make them look like a completely different person. One look in the mirror and I was impressed with the transformation. My hair is still the same length, with slight shaping and a few angles. The strands, however, are much lighter and brighter. I look sunnier, somehow. I even let them do my makeup. They didn’t overdo it. They made me look just right.
Lisa’s husband hands me a glass of champagne, and I take it, giving a cheers to the girls.
Frank appears from behind and asks if I can be taken away as he has people he’d like to introduce me to. I walk around the room with Frank, greeting the guests who are here to, hopefully, donate money to our little school. Some faces I recognize and many more I am meeting for the first time.
