Maestro (11 page)

She wouldn't run off, though, before she'd told him goodbye. And thank you.

“So you're staying here, too?” he asked Elena.

“Of course I am. I thought we could spend some time together tomorrow before your next concert.” She peered at him. “Where is it you're going?”

“D.C.,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “Kennedy Center.”

“Oh, that sounds like such an amazing place,” Elena said. She glanced at Annasophia. “I've never been there, you know.”

Maestro muttered something under his breath that Annasophia couldn't make out. She couldn't see his face, but he didn't seem thrilled to see Elena. With a sigh, he moved away from the piano and put the bench back where it belonged. Looking pointedly at his watch, he said, “It's getting really late. Close to two-thirty. I was just finishing up here, and–”

“Perhaps I should introduce myself,” Elena said as she skirted Maestro and approached Annasophia. “I'm Elena Dahl.”

Annasophia nodded but didn't reply. She figured Elena's dramatic pause meant that she wanted the import of her last name to sink in. Well, the way Annasophia figured it, the import given to that last name wasn't just what Elena made of it, but also what Maestro made of it. In 1973, they'd been divorced for, what, two years now?

Matt is born in late February 1974
, she reminded herself. Elena's last name had plenty of import. If not now, then soon, Maestro's odd attitude notwithstanding. Who knew how men thought? Perhaps, down deep, he was still in love with Elena, but she'd done something that had really hurt him, and he was having trouble forgiving her or getting past it.

For Matt's sake, Annasophia would give them a little help.

“You're Wilhelm's ex-wife,” she told Elena. “Yes, I know. And I can clearly see that the two of you are still friends.”

A slow smile spread across Elena's face like melting butter, and she nodded. “Are you a friend of his?”

“We just met tonight,” Annasophia said. “I'm new to the city, and he was very kind. He showed me around, and I asked him to share his Jerry Lee Lewis impression with me. We've had fun. But now, it's time for me to go.”

Maestro turned, a look of alarm on his face. “But where... I thought you didn't...” He stopped, clearly not wanting to put her on the spot or embarrass her in front of Elena. He knew she had nowhere else to go but to return to her timeline, but she didn't dare go back right now, even if Elena weren't standing here, watching. She hadn't yet given Maestro the information he'd need to find her in the future. If, indeed, by this point he would be inclined to want to do that. She should have stayed in the present, by the aging Maestro's side, to tell him goodbye and thank you. He'd given her enough there, goodness knew – his friendship and mentorship. Why had she come here?

Well, it was simple. She hadn't wanted to let go of him.

She could give him the information he needed in a quick goodbye. Away from Elena. She didn't want Elena hearing. It wasn't any of her business, and besides, Elena would have plenty of time with Maestro once Annasophia returned to 2010.

Annasophia made a promise to herself. After she, in good faith, shared with Maestro the information he would need to find her in the future, she would play the piano to go back to her time, then stay in whatever timeline she found herself, as long as she'd assured Matt's existence. She simply could not come back here, to 1973, and further interfere with the course of Maestro and Elena's reconciliation. She had done enough damage already.

Something in her face seemed to ratchet up Maestro's anxiety, and he moved toward her and put a hand on her arm. “Please You don't need to go.”

“Believe me. I do. But...” She looked pointedly at Elena, who was looking down her long nose at Annasophia and frowning. “I would like to say goodbye to, um, Wilhelm. Privately.”

Elena shrugged and moved toward the bar. She took a seat and angled herself so that while, technically, she faced the bar, she could still watch Annasophia and Maestro out of the corner of her eye.

Annasophia sighed, then bit her lower lip. It would have to be good enough.

Maestro took her hands. Oh, how she wanted to kiss him. Just looking up at him, meeting his tender gaze, made her want to melt. Once she started kissing him, though, she'd never want to stop. That simply wouldn't do. If Matt weren't in the picture – well, that would be a different story, but he was in the picture; well, he was supposed to be in the picture, and Annasophia must keep him there.

“Goodbye,” she whispered. “Um, if you want to, well, find me in the future...”

“Yes,” he said urgently. “Tell me. Please. I want to see you again, even if I have to wait decades.” He gripped her hands. “If I can't be what I want to be to you now, I have to accept that, Miss Anna. But regardless, I want to be your teacher. I want to help you have the life you deserve. Music. And – I hope – love.”

He said that last word almost as though it were a question. It was a question she couldn't answer. Not because she wasn't sure, though. It was because she knew he was the only man she'd ever be in love with, and when she went back to her time, it would be career, career, career for her. But it was okay. Maestro had primed her well to be a musician, and after he died, she might just move to New York City, just to feel closer to the experiences she'd had here.

She would ask Matt if he wanted to go with her. Not that she wanted to become romantically involved with Matt. Feelings like that didn't exist between them on either side, and she sure couldn't imagine them cropping up out of the blue. He had never shown much interest in dating anybody, now that she thought about it. He was a dear friend, though, and the best sound man she knew. The two of them would make great roommates.

There were, of course, her groupies, whether in East Tennessee, or wherever she might play. Nothing could compare to the kind of melting love she felt for Maestro or even to the kisses they had shared, but the fact remained: sex was oh-so-nice. She didn't want to become a nun when she returned to her time.

Sad, though – now, she felt nauseated at the thought of getting it on with groupies. She blushed at what Maestro would think of her shenanigans. For the rest of her life, she would think of him every time she had sex with anyone else. It stank that she still wouldn't have experienced Sex Under the Influence of Love. Now, she never would. The only way she could experience sex with love would be to do it with Maestro, an experience which would soon lie far enough out of her reach as to be like flying to Mars.

A tear trickled down her cheek.

Maestro gently wiped it away. “Tell me.”

Tell him what? Oh, yes. “East Tennessee,” she said. “I live in a town called Johnson City, in upper East Tennessee. The university where you teach – where I go to study with you, starting from when I'm a little girl – is Southern Mountain State University.” Was that everything he needed to know? Oh, how she wished she could wring information out of her mind, as though it were a damp wash cloth. Surely, though, that was enough for him to work with. He would find her. She saw the answer in his eyes.

Astonishing how love and connection could work. He had only known her for a few hours, but she had known him for two decades, and somehow, he'd tapped into that.

At least in this timeline, he had much to look forward to where she was concerned, a relationship with her in the future, even if it wouldn't be the kind of relationship they both yearned for right now. She, on the other hand, had nothing to look forward to with regard to him but his death.

Another tear rolled down her cheek. “Okay,” she said. “You and Elena go on together, and I'll do my disappearing act once you two are out of the–”

“Me and Elena?” Maestro frowned, and he looked as though she'd suggested he go upstairs to his suite with the bartender or some random stranger on the still-busy street outside. “Elena and I aren't staying here together. Do you think I've been playing games with you? Elena and I are divorced,
Schätzchen.
” He looked closer at her. “Is that what this sudden disappearance wish is all about? You think I'm interested in Elena?”

“No,” she said, firm in her resolve to tell him the truth, as far as she could. “But she's plainly interested in you, and since you two were married before, I feel like I ought to get out of the way and give you two a chance to make things right again. You know, my parents divorced, and I feel strongly about couples being able to either stay together and make things work, or maybe to get back together and rekindle...” She stopped. She was babbling. Yes, she felt that way, but things weren't so black and white. Her father had been an asshole to leave her and Mom when she had been so young and never get in touch again, but she also knew he had been made miserable by Mom's drinking and volatility. There were always two sides to any story.

“Miss Anna, Miss Anna.” Maestro ran his big hands up her arms to tenderly grip her shoulders and draw her just a bit closer. “I don't like divorce any better than you do, but sometimes, people get married to the wrong people for the wrong reasons. That's what Elena and I did.”

“She clearly feels differently,” Annasophia pointed out, and barely restrained herself from saying,
Soon, you'll feel differently, too, because at some point, soon, you and Elena are going to conceive a son together
. In Annasophia's time, their reconciliation had already happened. Matt was the living proof. Or he would be. How could she reconcile that certainty with the doubt – not just doubt, but out-and-out hurt – she saw on Maestro's face?

“I can't help that,” he said. “But I think I understand. You're looking at Elena and me through the lens of your past, aren't you, dear one? Maybe you think you have to do whatever you can to help couples get back together, to try to make your childhood feel better to you in your mind?”

Not quite
, she thought. He was damned insightful, but he hadn't quite hit the correct nail. Her childhood hadn't made her a romantic about marriage. It had actually done the opposite. She couldn't imagine ever marrying, and that was probably at the root of why she attracted losers for boyfriends and had a bit of a sex addiction. Sex without love, sex without commitment, sex for the sheer physical pleasure of it. Like music, sex had made her feel alive.

Until now.

She would never again feel as alive as she did now, with Maestro. Friendship, mentorship, yes, all those things still factored into their relationship. Now, though, this incredible physical attraction and deep affinity which could only be called love encompassed – yet transcended – all the rest.

Oh, how she wanted to stay here!

But she couldn't.

“Please, Maestro. Go upstairs. It's more important than you know. We have to say goodbye, here and now.”

“It's something to do with what you can't tell me about the future, isn't it?” he asked.

“Yes, it is. I have to get back. And I think it's right this time. That is, you know how to find me now.”

“Why should that matter,
Schätzchen,
about finding each other in the future? We have each other right now. We can change the future, don't you see, with what we're feeling now. My future isn't set, and yours doesn't have to be, either. Can't the future be fluid and not set? Can't we make a future together?”

He opened his mouth as though to say something else, but he seemed to have run out of words. Instead of talking, he pulled her close and kissed her, gently at first, then more deeply. She sagged in his arms, all her resistance gone. Right here in the lobby, too, in front of the few people who were still here, and Elena.

Matt's future mother is watching
. That brought Annasophia's resistance back.

“Maestro,” she murmured against his lips. “Darling.” Oops, she shouldn't have said that.
Darling?
What had she been smoking? She'd never called anyone that – or even imagined such a thing – in her life. She gently disengaged herself from his arms and stepped back. “It has to be goodbye. I can't tell you the reason, but it's absolutely critical, at least from my point of view, and I know that if I were to talk to your older self about it, you'd agree...” She stopped herself. Had she said too much? And would his older self truly agree?

She thought so. Maestro loved Matt. For this Maestro, though, Matt was one of many possibilities, one of many children he could have in an unwritten future. If Annasophia were a little bit more selfish, she could take that view. She could stay here and build a new future her and Maestro in which they would live out their lives together. There would be no Matt – Elena was required for that – but there could be other children, if she and Maestro wanted them.

She couldn't do that to Matt. He was her friend.

“Please,” she said. “I need you to go to your suite. Live your life. Forget about me, at least for the next couple of decades.”

He shook his head. “There's nothing I can do to change your mind?”

“Nothing.” Annasophia glanced over at Elena, who was staring at them. Maestro didn't seem to notice her at all. At least they were far enough away to where Elena probably couldn't hear what they were saying. “And I want you to take Elena somewhere. Away from here. I don't want her to see me disappear. For one thing, it would freak her out and she'd ask you too many questions, and that's something that... well, it wouldn't be good, okay? Just trust me on this. Please.”

“But there's nowhere I want to take Elena,” Maestro said, frustration evident in his voice. “I don't even want to spend time with her. I'm annoyed just by her staying here in the same hotel as me. But...” He sighed. “I'll tell you this, because maybe it'll have a bearing on your decision to leave, since clearly you know something about the future that I don't. Elena wants us to get back together. She likes being a concert pianist's wife. She likes the lifestyle. Doesn't matter that she couldn't care less about music. She grew up poor, and I think she's afraid of being poor again, though I wouldn't let that happen to her. I pay her a great deal of alimony. And she uses that money to travel, to follow me around when I'm on tour. She's done it practically since we divorced. She was okay with the divorce when it happened, but once it was done, I guess she got bored and missed the attention she got from being my wife, especially when I'm on tour.”