Fearless (3 page)

“Who can sell the most lemon cookies?” Mel
cracked.

“Guilty!” said Lana. “My office is still
working on those things.”

The elevator stopped. “So if you’re off
weekends,” said Mel, stepping out, “you should come check out one
of those jams I mentioned. Do you still have your violin?”

Lana’s cheeks grew hot. “Yeah, I’ve still
got it. Have my ex-husband’s guitar, too.”

“Bring it along!” said Mel. “Folk music is
easy to pick up.”

Lana swiped her keycard and
opened the door to her room. “It’s been a
reeeally
long time.” She hunted for
her sweater, glad that the room was relatively unembarrassing—not
always a given where teenage girls were concerned. Wait, what was
she even thinking? Anything they’d leave out, Mel had probably seen
already. Well, that was a relief.

“If you’d rather just watch, that’d be fine,
too,” said Mel, her thumbs looped in the back pockets of her jeans.
“We’re more about sharing than audience, but there’s usually
somebody there not playing—either somebody’s mom or partner. Free
concert, when you think about it.”

It wasn’t until Lana caught sight of her own
face in the mirror behind the bed that she realized she was
frowning at that, too. She quickly smoothed her expression as she
buttoned her sweater. “…yeah, I guess I’d better.”

Mel flashed her a
mischievous look from heavy-lidded, knowing eyes as she followed
her out the door. “You
do
want to play.”

Lana sighed. “I don’t know.
It’s so easy for those kids down there—their fingers are like
computers—they know where everything’s supposed to go and I—it’s
been
twenty years.
If not more.” The door clicked shut.

“Well, fine, you don’t need to make up your
mind now,” said Mel. She sidled closer than casual as they waited
for the elevator. “Either way, you’ll come to the jam, and then
maybe we can grab dinner?”

“Oh, I’m down for that!” said Lana
enthusiastically, boarding the elevator. Good, at least Mel knew
for sure that she was only reticent about this violin business, not
dating women.

When they got back to the ballroom where the
eleventh- and twelfth-grade orchestra rehearsed, the students were
on break. “Hang on; I want to show you something.”

“Hm?” Lana watched with interest as Mel
approached one of the young violinists. It looked like there were
some questions and then smiling, and then Mel took the girl’s
violin and bow.

Lana didn’t know what to expect, but the
sound that poured out when Mel began to play was rich and dark like
that first bite of really good chocolate. She was shocked into
silence, captivated by the simple, wistful melody. At some point,
she realized her mouth was hanging open a little, and she closed it
with some embarrassment, licking her lips.

Some of the kids watched,
too. Another violinist joined in, and Lana had to admit that a part
of her was aching to join them. The melody didn’t
sound
hard… still,
something held her back. She was acutely aware of an invisible wall
between her and these kids, maybe between her and Mel as well. She
didn’t trust that her fingers would know what to do, and she was
scared that if she tried to tell them, they wouldn’t
listen.

“Mom! Mom, mom, mom, we got a problem.”

Lana’s mind snapped instantly to Robin, the
violinist and the lover sitting down to let the Mom take over
again. “Honey?”

“Out in the hallway.” Robin practically
dragged her out by the sleeve of her sweater.

In the hallway, surrounded by other kids
Lana hoped were her friends, Alexis was slumped over on the floor,
holding her head in her hands. “I am such a fucking idiot; I’m
gonna die…”

“What happened?” asked Lana.

Alexis looked up, revealing a very red face.
“I forgot to take my allergy meds this morning, so I tried to take
them just now while I was going to the bathroom. But I dropped them
all in the toilet. I already skipped today. If I skip tomorrow I’m
gonna get a death-migraine and won’t be able to play. Oh, my God, I
can’t believe this…”

“And nobody else has any,” Robin
volunteered. “We already asked.”

Lana squeezed her shoulder. “Okay, we can
fix this. I think there’s a Walgreens on the corner.”

“It’s snowing again, though,” said a kid
whose name Lana didn’t know.

“That’s okay,” said Lana, “I brought my ski
jacket.”

“You’ll walk me to the Walgreens after
rehearsal?” Alexis’s face looked like the sun peeking through
clouds.

“Of course. We can’t have you missing your
concert! Not after all that work!”

“I was afraid to ask Madison’s mom,” said
Alexis. “She’s the one chaperoning me and I’m honest to God scared
of her. She would yell at me and it’s not even her money.”

Lana brushed her hair out of her face. “I’ll
be here during the rehearsal, and then afterward just come up to
the room with us so I can get my jacket, okay?”

“Thanks so much, Ms. Novak. You are
seriously the best.”

“My mom’s a rock star,” beamed Robin.

A few hours later, Lana led a gaggle of
teenage girls back to her hotel room. “Oh, wow, Ms. Novak, that
coat’s amazing!” Alexis exclaimed when she saw Lana’s shimmery blue
ski jacket. The fabric was metameric, and it shone green and purple
in some places when the light hit it just right.

“I know, isn’t this great?” Lana checked the
jacket’s pockets to make sure her gloves and scarf were still
there, then grabbed the hat Robin had knitted her for Christmas off
the dresser. “I hope you brought a good jacket. We can hit your
room for it on the way down.”

Alexis looked distraught. “But what about
Madison’s mom? She’s gonna… like…”

“She’s not
your
mom,” Lana shook her
head in frustration. “She doesn’t really have any right to talk to
you like that, anyway. She can just… Look, I’ll be with you. Just
run in, get the jacket, and leave. If she asks where you’re going,
tell her the truth and remember that no matter how she responds,
it’s
none of her
business
. I’ll be in the hallway in case
anything happens.”

“Okay.” Alexis looked sick, but gave Lana a
half smile.

“Not you, Robin.” Lana realized Robin was
putting on her own coat. “I don’t want you out there in the snow,
not the day before a concert. Your lungs are part of your
instrument.”

“Can we go to the dealer’s room?” Robin
asked.

“You mean the exhibition
hall? Yes, but stay together and keep your phones where you can
hear me so I can call when I’m on my way back.
Stay together
.”

Robin clamped her hand on Blanca’s wrist.
“Buddy system!”

Amazing how much easier it
is to tell other people not to be scared of
things
, Lana observed as she rode the
elevator with Alexis down to the other floor,
than to convince yourself not to be scared
. And honestly, a cranky snob with a hair-trigger temper like
Mrs. Woods did sound scarier than picking up a violin again. So why
was she so nervous about it?

Her mind flipped to a memory of the year
she’d taken dance as a youngster, starting later than the other
girls. It was hard to erase the awkwardness of being the biggest
elf in the Christmas show—even though it wasn’t her fault she was a
beginner at ten instead of five like everyone else. She might have
stuck with dancing if more of the girls at her level were her
age.

Was that it? Was she reticent to pick up the
bow again and then be the forty-three-year-old woman who sounded as
halting as some of Mel’s students—the ones who weren’t good enough
to be here at All-State?

Maybe she was just afraid of looking inept
in front of Mel. Luckily, Mel was the kind of universally friendly
person who didn’t seem like she’d make a big deal out of
mess-ups.

She waited in the hallway outside Alexis’s
room, giving herself the kind of pep talk she’d have given one of
the girls.

Alexis finally emerged, bundled into a puffy
coat with a university logo, and grinning. “She’s not there!”

“Phase one, complete,” said Lana as they
headed back to the elevator. “All aboard for the Polar Express to
Walgreens!”

The first blast of icy air outside the
hotel’s front door assaulted Lana’s face like knives. She’d covered
as much as humanly possible, with her scarf wrapped around her
cheeks and chin and then tucked into her pulled-up collar, and her
hat pulled low over her ears. But nothing could completely block
out the wet, cutting chill.

“You okay?” she called out.

“This suuuucks,” was Alexis’s response. “I’m
so sorry for you having to come out here like this with me.”

“It’s an adventure!” Lana told her.
“Something for you to tell your kids someday.” She lifted her boot
as high as she could to take the next step into the high drifts of
snow. When she put it down again it sank disconcertingly into the
fluffy flakes. “Watch your step.”

“Yeah.”

Lana fixed her sight on the bright red
Walgreens sign, barely visible in the white-gray swirl. Snow
stopped being fun past high school, she reflected, burying her
gloved hands in her pockets. “Speaking of adventures, how did you
manage to drop your pills in the toilet in the first place?”

“Um,” said Alexis, continuing her slow,
stomping march across the snowbank. “I was kind of… texting.”

“You took your phone out in
the ladies’ room? You’re lucky you didn’t drop
that
in the toilet!”
Teenagers
, Lana thought
to herself, before a little voice reminded her that she’d shivered
through the first half of Robin’s morning rehearsal without her
sweater because it wasn’t Mel-worthy.

“Oh, my God, my mom
would
kill me
,”
said Alexis. “Yeah, I know it was kinda dumb but things might be
going somewhere with Tyler and I couldn’t wait to see his next
message.”

“Well, that’s good, anyway?” Trust a boy
Tyler’s age to feel more comfortable talking about his feelings via
text message.

“Yeah! I feel good about
it,” said Alexis. “We’re supposed to go see the new
Captain Werewolf
movie
next weekend together.”

“Congratulations!”

Lana and Alexis fought the snow together
until they reached the drugstore, where they killed several more
minutes inside, just to enjoy the warmth. “We’re on our way back,”
Lana told Robin into a cell that felt uncomfortable against her
cold-stained cheek.

“Cool,” said Robin. “How is it out
there?”

“You know that year you
played the Waltz of the Snowflakes from
Nutcracker
for the Christmas
concert?” Lana shifted out of the doorway to let another bundled-up
soul exit. “Not that. Not even close. It’s like a science fiction
movie.”

“Don’t freeze,” said Robin.

“See you soon.”

On the way back, being forced to lift her
boot-heavy feet higher than usual in order to take the next step
into the drifts began to make her knees hurt. To distract herself,
she thought of Mel playing that song—the simple waltz from before.
She didn’t know why, but it reminded her of bittersweet movies
about immigrants longing for their home country. Naturally, as the
child of immigrants she’d been exposed to a fair number of those
her whole life.

Hearing it in her mind made her fingers,
trapped inside her fists inside gloves inside pockets and close
against her body, unconsciously start trying out what might be the
positions for the song.

Immigrants thinking of a far-off time and
place… was that what violin was, to her? A land across the ocean,
full of complex beauty and history?

The hotel lobby beckoned invitingly with its
promise of warmth and lack of frozen rain attacking one’s
eyelashes. Lana and Alexis hurried inside to find Robin and Melanie
waiting for them.

“Supermom!” Robin pumped both fists straight
in the air, before making an octopus out of her hand to squish
Alexis’s head playfully.

Mel held out an insulated paper cup. “I bet
you need this.”

Lana took it carefully in her still-gloved
hand. Hot, spiced apple cider! She enjoyed the smell and the warm
steam against her nose for a moment before taking a sip, then
rested the cup against her cheek. “Wow, thanks! You’re right,
that’s perfect. How did you know?”

“Robin found me at one of
the sheet music booths and told me where you were. Here, take those
off.” Mel took Lana’s free hand and peeled off her glove. Lana,
still in her coat, flushed warmly at the first time their hands
met. Mel’s fingers were gentle and guiding on hers, steering her
bare hand around the cup she held in her gloved one. Intense heat
from the cider caressed her palm. “Isn’t that just what your
fingers need after being out there? Even in gloves it’s hard not to
feel like there’s ice
inside
your body after being out there.”

“This is just about my favorite way to eat
apples,” said Lana, unable to take her eyes away from Mel’s
hospitable smile, and reveling in their impromptu hand-holding.

Mel squeezed Lana’s hand against the cup and
then relinquished it to fish a business card holder out of her
convention bag. “Hey, I have to go to a seminar, but call me after
the afternoon rehearsal and I’ll join up with you all for dinner.”
She pressed her card into Lana’s waiting hand.

“Thanks again for the apple cider,” Lana
said through smiles and fluttering eyelashes.

Dinner was another group affair, even larger
this time, and Mel spent most of it entertaining all the students
present with unusual stories from the lives of composers. “Of
course, none of that’s quite as awful as Jean-Baptiste Lully, who
accidentally killed himself with his own baton.”