Wow.“Yes,” I whispered, full of complete understanding.
“Dan has a lot of faith in you.”
“He does. But I get tired of the classical stuff, and that gets me into trouble.”
“Ha!” He chuckled. “I get it, dear. The best musicians are rule-breakers. The thing is that you have to know the rules before you can be any good at breaking them.”
We sat there in silence for a long time. I closed my eyes and then he said, “There’s music all around us, isn’t there?”
I could hear cars screeching, horns honking, children laughing, and the constant clanking of pipes emanating from the manhole covers. And then, suddenly, all of the muddled sounds became clear and merged together into the most beautiful symphony. The score to my life.
Opening my eyes, I looked over and noticed that Orvin was watching me. “See what I mean? It’s within you.”
My eyes were misty from the wind but more from the emotion. “Yes.”
“You have to learn to fly before you can soar.”
I thanked Orvin over and over. Each day, I was learning how to simplify my life. Maybe that’s what growing up was really all about. Adults always say how complicated life gets as we age, but really, I think we just look for bigger challenges to overcome. Our biggest fears stretch from sleeping without our beloved teddy bear to finding out that we have no purpose in life. Did time, maturity, and overcoming obstacles offer the kind of contentment so evident in Orvin? Or did we just simply give up and surrender to the life we were already living?
“Come back and see me soon,” he said as he rose from the bench.
“I definitely will.”
In my wallet, I had a calling card I had won in the monthly dorm raffle. I found a pay phone and called my mom.
“Grace, how are you, darling?” She sounded busy. I could hear my father yelling at my siblings in the background.
“How is everyone?”
“Your father lost his job again.”
“Oh no, not again,” I said, though I wasn’t the least bit surprised.
She gave an exasperated sigh. “Yes, again.”
“I really wanted to come back for Christmas. I can get a seasonal job at the mall and help out.”
“Oh, Grace, that would be wonderful. Can you afford the flight?”
“I thought instead of getting Christmas presents from you and Dad, I could get a flight home instead?” A tiny glimmer of hope flickered within me.
Her next words snuffed it out. “We can’t afford it, honey. I’m sorry.”
I hadn’t been home for almost a year. I felt sorry for my mother and I didn’t want to burden her, but I was sick for home and I missed my siblings, their chatter, and the energy that I felt in our house, even when times were tough. The thought of spending the holidays in Senior House by myself was frightening. It was like the last weeks of summer when I was alone. Before Matt had arrived.
Cue long, uncomfortable silence. “Okay, Mom. Hey, I need to save the minutes on this card.”
“Okay, I understand. We love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
I spent the afternoon alone in my room, drinking cheap wine and feeling sorry for my mother, but mostly for myself. My door was cracked when Matt came down the hall after work late that night.
He pushed it open. “Knock-knock.”
“Come in. Hang out.” I was playing my cello near the window, wearing Matt’s Ramone’s T-shirt.
He came in and set down his messenger bag. “Guess I’m never getting my shirt back.”
