It was a baby. Millions of women a year had them.
“I’m going to head across to Irma’s. Catch up to me in a few?” Cass asked. It was her way of giving me a few minutes alone with my mentor.
“Sure.”
She headed out, and I turned to Marco, but he was already nodding at me and following her.
Elana moved toward the wooden counter at the rear of the store with its antique register and art deco lights, and I followed. She sat on the stool behind it. The same position she’d sat in for years while we discussed bands and songs and lyrics. Others who’d come into the store?college kids and adults alike?would often join our debates, taking sides and spurring us on. Whether we were for or against each other, it had never ended in hard feelings because the respect and acceptance we felt always outweighedour difference of opinion.
“The ass fromThe Reporterknows nothing,” Elana said, and I laughed because it was almost verbatim Dani’s words the day before.
“We both know there’s a truth to his words.”
She shook her head. “Just because your music is consistent doesnotmean it is stale.”
I groaned. “See. Consistent. Tell me the truth. You were arguing about Fleetwood Mac when we came in. Would you call their music consistent?”
“They made music over three decades. It isn’t the same. You’ve released three albums,” she said.
“I can’t help but agree with him,” I told her. “My fourth album should have a new sound.”
She stared at me before getting up and heading down one of the rows of albums. She came back with a Johnny Mathias album. She handed it to me. “Merry Christmas.”
I looked down at it. “Blues? You know that isn’t my vibe.”
She smacked me gently on the cheek. “Didn’t you just say you were looking for something new? You just need to be inspired again. Remember some of the classics I taught you when you were first starting to play piano and that damn saxophone.”
“Damn saxophone! You liked it when I played the sax.”
“Maybe you need to play it again.”
Maybe.
The door swung open, and Marco emerged, carrying Cass in his arms. The sight had my heart hammering.
“What happened?”
“I just twisted my ankle. Normal stuff,” Cass said. “But this behemoth won't let me walk on it.”
Relief took the place of the panic that had filled my chest.
I turned back to Elana. “Looks like I gotta run.”
“Looks like you do,” she said with a smile, pulling me into a hug. “Don’t let them force you into something that isn’t you. Consistent is better than stupid.”
I laughed, squeezed her back, and whispered into her white hair, “Merry Christmas.”
She squeezed me a little harder again and then let me go.
When I looked back at the door, she’d already turned back to the vinyl records, flipping through them as if in search of something else. I wished I’d had more time with her. I was going to come back soon. AfterFighting with the Starsand the award shows, I’d come back and sit for a few hours at her feet and have her tell me everything I was doing wrong. I’d let her rid me of my newly found insecurities as she’d once rid me of my anger.
I turned back to Marco and Cass. As we left the store, I asked, “What happened?”
“She fell down the two steps outside the antique store,” he said.
“I’m fine. Don’t talk like I’m not here,” Cass stormed.
“Is the baby okay?” I asked her.
