Maestro (23 page)

“I love you,” he said softly.

That did make it better.

Elena returned with a plate of food. She set it on the rolling tray near the bed and positioned it in front of Annasophia. “Chicken soup, a tuna sandwich, and plenty of water,” she said. “I hope you enjoy. You're feeling better again, aren't you?”

Annasophia nodded. “Thanks. It looks delicious.”

Maestro stood up and looked first at Annasophia, then at Elena. His expression changed slightly when he gazed at Elena, but he no longer looked like he distrusted her. “All right. I have to go if I'm going to make my flight on time. But please–”

“I'll take care of her,” Elena said. “You can be sure of that.”

Maestro cocked a brow at Elena, and Annasophia thought he almost looked worried. Then he shook his head and smiled. “I know you will. And I appreciate it. I've got to say, I'm really happy with how things have turned out. We're lucky to have you as a friend, Elena. The baby will be lucky, too.”

“Thank you, but I'm the one who's lucky.” Elena plumped the pillow on the bed, and Annasophia lay back down, gratefully. Sitting up for a long time hurt her back, though she determinedly sat for at least a few hours a day and spent some time walking, too. Yes, she was on what she considered to be bed rest, but staying in bed constantly would be bad for both her and the baby.

Annasophia wished Elena would leave for just a moment, so that she and Maestro could share a long, deep kiss. She didn't feel comfortable, kissing him like that with somebody watching. She cleared her throat. Elena didn't move. Annasophia cleared her throat again, and looked directly at Elena, with a half-smile on her face.

“Oh, I get it.” She grinned back and swiftly left the room.

When Annasophia was alone with Maestro, she asked, “Are you comfortable with things?”

He nodded, and neither his eyes nor his face showed any sign of displeasure. “I'm glad you talked me into giving her a chance. I guess women can sometimes figure things out about other women that we men just can't see.”

“I've always thought that, too. No offense.” She grinned.

He leaned over her and kissed her slowly, deeply, as though he never wanted to stop, She twined her fingers into his thick dark hair. Oh, how she wished they could make love! Just a quickie. Elena was just outside, though, and he had a plane to catch.

“I'll call you every day,” he said. “As many times a day as I can.”

“Please do,” she said, her tears flowing again. “I'll miss you so much.”

“And I'll miss you. I wish...” He paused. Yes, She knew he wished he didn't have to travel without her, but not traveling at all simply wasn't an option. So he left his thought unsaid and gave her another kiss. “Be sure and let me know the second you go into labor,
Schätzchen
. I'll spend as much time here with you as I can before the next performance.”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak without braying out a huge sob.

“Every performance I do will be for you. Every note I play, you'll be in my heart, inspiring me. You and our son.”

“I know,” she managed to say.

He gave her another deep kiss, then left. At the door, he spoke to Elena. Annasophia strained to hear, and she caught, “...good care of her.” Surely there wasn't anything to worry about, with Elena here to help. She heard the front door close as Maestro left the house, and suddenly into her mind appeared the image of Elena's face in the photo that had been taken at the hotel restaurant, twisted with malevolence as she stared at the back of Annasophia's head. She shivered.

She mustn't think about that. It was many months in the past. Elena had redeemed herself a million times over since then. Still, now that Maestro was gone, here was Elena's perfect opportunity to send Annasophia back to her time. She could come in here, humming the concerto, and Annasophia would have to think fast. Sing loudly. Throw something at Elena. Run out of the house. No, the latter certainly wasn't an option. She could barely walk. Despite her efforts to stay cool and think rationally, panic rose and twisted her guts like pretzels. Another Braxton Hicks contraction hit, and she groaned. This kind of stress certainly wasn't good for either her or the baby. She was only feeling this way because Maestro had just left. Wasn't she?

Annasophia heard a noise at the doorway. She nearly jumped out of her skin. What kind of expression would Elena have on her face? Annasophia held her breath until Elena came in, and when she saw that Elena's expression was kind, filled with concern, she let out a long breath. She would have to calm down. These feelings were nothing more than crazy-making of her own invention.

Elena rushed to her side. “Are you okay? You look pale.” She put a hand on Annasophia's forehead. “You're sweating. Another contraction?”

“Yeah.” She forced a weak smile. “It won't be long now.”

Elena began to hum, and Annasophia's heart did a somersault in her chest.
No!
Why hadn't she foreseen this kind of thing? She twisted in bed, groaning, until it hit her that Elena wasn't humming the concerto. Instead, she was humming “Morning Has Broken.” Annasophia sighed and clutched her head in her hands.

“What's the matter?” came Elena's voice. A pause. Then Elena sat down on the bed and put her hand on Annasophia's shoulder. “Oh, my goodness. The humming. You didn't think I–”

“No, no.” She hastened to reassure her. What would Elena think of her if she knew she'd been so paranoid? Why, she might just leave her here, and then Annasophia would have no help at all. Hell, in a case like that, Elena might as well send her back to 2010. “I'm feeling sad about Maestro – I mean, Will – having to leave, and my nerves are just a little bit on edge. But I appreciate everything you're doing for me. Please know that.”

Elena smiled. “It's all right. I understand how you feel. I always had a hard time, too, when he went on tour and I couldn't go.”

Annasophia scowled, despite herself. No matter how pleasant things were between she and Elena, she didn't like hearing Elena reminisce about her and Maestro's years as husband and wife.

“I'm sorry. I can be a little insensitive sometimes. I don't mean to.” Elena stood up and headed for the doorway. Then she glanced back at Annasophia. “Is there anything you need right now? Otherwise, I'll leave you to rest. You look like you could use a nap. Perhaps you'll wake up feeling better, and by that time, I'll have dinner ready.”

Elena wasn't going to send her back. Why had she thought such a thing? “Thank you,” Annasophia said. “I mean it. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you.”

“Well, you're stuck with me. This really means a lot to me, to have real friends and to become a part of your extended family.” Elena paused. “As you know, I never really had a family where I felt accepted, where I felt unconditionally loved and cared for.”

“Same exact thing here. I'm so glad we can put our rocky start aside and become good friends. It's nice for both of us, for Maestro, and especially for the baby.” Annasophia grinned ruefully. “I'm sure I'll need some help once the baby is here. He'll be a handful, I'm sure.”

Elena furrowed her brow. “You're always calling the baby
he
. You might have a girl, you know.”

That was right, Elena didn't know about Matt. Annasophia had never wanted to tell her that she and Maestro not only knew the baby's sex but that she, Annasophia, also knew who the baby would grow up to be. She supposed that was a bit too private – she wanted to keep that knowledge only for herself and Maestro. It really wasn't any of Elena's business, and it touched on the time-travel issue, about which – Annasophia had to admit – she still didn't want Elena knowing too many details.

Maybe over time, she would become less and less cynical. She had come a long way, though – trusting Elena to stay here and take care of her, and Elena had certainly proved to be worthy of her trust. All Annasophia had to do was to stop being so damned paranoid.

“Maestro wants a boy for our first child,” Annasophia said. “That's why we're always saying
he
. But we would love a girl, too, every bit as much.” At least the latter part was true. Perhaps their next child would be a girl.

Looking puzzled, Elena opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it. Annasophia wondered if she'd been about to tell her that when she and Maestro were married and talking about having a family, he'd said he wanted a girl. Oh, well.

Maestro. Annasophia missed his arms around her already, and a tear trickled down her cheek. She quickly brushed it away, hoping Elena hadn't noticed it. She didn't want Elena to think she was a crybaby; besides, she wanted privacy to experience these intimate feelings. She lay on her side and snuggled her face into the pillow, hopefully sending Elena the message that she was ready for a nap now.

“I'll wake you when dinner's ready,” Elena said. “Have a good rest.” Softly, she closed the bedroom door behind her.

Annasophia had expected that she wouldn't be able to sleep, but before she knew it, she was out like a light. In her dreams capered Elena, shooting poison-tipped arrows with her eyes at the back of her head, from the right, then from the left, but always from behind, where Annasophia couldn't see. She jerked awake with a shock, moaning softly, and found she was having another contraction. That must explain the bad dreams. Her paranoia and fear would simply have to stop. That was all. It served no useful purpose and was woefully misplaced. She and Elena were friends now. Elena wanted to love her baby. Things had changed for all three of them. Maestro, Annasophia, and Elena were creating a new timeline for themselves and for the baby, a positive, happy timeline for everyone.

Still, she was reluctant to go back to sleep. Elena's expression from her dreams had creeped her out too much. Instead, she listened to the sounds from the kitchen as Elena made preparations to cook dinner. Damn, she hated feeling helpless. She hated it even more with only Elena in the house. She wished she could get up and help Elena cook. Maybe she should try. If she took things slowly, what could it hurt?

Annasophia got out of bed and pulled on her robe. Everything from her neck down hurt, and her small bones ached in protest as she tried to transport not just herself but her huge belly across the room. She put her hands underneath it for support, but as she walked, her hemorrhoids protested. She returned to bed and lay down with a sigh. Not now. She would try to help Elena clean up afterward. Surely, she could do that much.

As she waited for dinner, she lay on her back with her eyes closed, her hand on her swollen belly and her mind and her heart on Maestro. Before she knew it, she was crying again. She hoped he would call soon, but she knew it wouldn't be for a while yet, since he was on his way to Los Angeles for the first leg of the tour.

She would get a good night call, but she would have to wait many more days until his next goodnight kiss.

* * * ~~~ * * *

Chapter Three

Damn it, Annasophia wished Elena would stop humming. She hummed all the time. Never the concerto, but always something, usually popular songs by rock artists. It wasn't that Annasophia didn't like the music. She loved it. To her mind, such music was
classic rock
, and over the years, it had been a considerable influence on her original music. But it seemed that no matter how kind and helpful Elena was, Annasophia couldn't shake the heebie-jeebies when Elena hummed. It reminded her of the times Elena had attempted to send her back to 2010 and had even succeeded. She mustn't go back there again. If she was sent back to 2010 in her present condition, goodness knew how she could screw things up. For one thing, she could easily go into labor, then Matt's birth year would be not 1974 but 2010. And there Maestro would be lying in the hospital, a dying man who would never know his son.

Not an option.

And – Annasophia reminded herself – she needn't worry. Elena had never once hummed anything that sounded remotely like Rachmaninoff's Concerto No. 2. She had no idea why Elena hummed all the time, though. The first time she'd hummed, the day Maestro left three weeks ago, she'd seemed to know how nervous the humming made her. Still, she did it. Maybe Elena, in her own way, was trying to help Annasophia get her head on straight and lose her fear. What else could Annasophia think? By every other word and deed, Elena remained unfailingly kind and helpful, so when paranoia crept into Annasophia's head, she had plenty of wherewithal to kick it out.

Maestro called every morning, every afternoon, and every evening. Annasophia lived for their conversations. It was now a week before the baby's due date, which meant, practically speaking, that she could go into labor at any time. Though she had tried to spend as much time as possible out of bed so she wouldn't get too weak, for the last few days, she had hardly left the bed at all, except to use the bathroom. She had known women for whom pregnancy was easy. Clearly, she wasn't one of them.

Her condition was temporary, though. When she thought of her and Maestro, together again, holding and cuddling their son, it was worth it. And no matter how this whole childbirth thing went, Annasophia was determined to give Matt a sibling. It was another thing she could do to ensure that she altered the original 2010 timeline and to allow her to feel extra security about staying here with Maestro, where she belonged.

Elena came into the bedroom, still humming. “How's Will?”

As always, Annasophia did a doubletake at
Will
. She couldn't think of him as anyone but
Maestro
. They'd had their morning talk. “He's getting ready to rehearse with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra for their performance at Symphony Center this evening. I wished him luck.” She sighed. “He still sounds so sad. I think it's really wearing on him, being out there touring while I'm back here.”