Sorry, this is a long one (I think it has busted 9 pages and 3,000 words!), but well worth it. It took me forever to write!… enjoy!
PS- it's pure fluff!
Chapter 5
Alex was putting in an earring in her left ear when she heard the doorbell ring. She floated across the room and opened it to find Bobby in his best suit: a dark blue jacket and pants, a light blue shirt, and a brilliant green tie that worked perfectly despite being so bright in contrast. Alex was totally unaware of this of course, as Bobby was well wrapped in his long coat and a scarf, though his cheeks were flushed and his nose was red.
He looked at Alex. She was beautiful, but in her normal elegant kick-ass way. She was wearing a black skirt and a dark red top- very similar to her favorite red tank top- and… "You've only got one earring on," said Bobby, reaching out to touch the dangling silver and crystal.
"Oh, yah. I was just putting them on when you knocked," she smiled.
"I rang the doorbell," he corrected.
"Right," she said as she scurried back across the living room to her bedroom to retrieve the other earring. "So, are you going to tell me where we're going yet?" she said slipping the pin through her other ear.
"Nope, It'll be obvious once we get there."
"Great, I love surprises," she said sarcastically. She hurried to grab her coat and purse, then led the way out to the SUV in her apartment parking deck.
"Did you really walk here?" she said. She clicked the unlock button.
"Yeah, it's a good walk, but I could always do with the exercise," he said.
"Yeah, right," she mumbled as she started the engine. "Ok, Buddy, you've got to tell me now because I can't take us there if I don't know where we're going."
"I'll give you directions," he said.
"Ok…"
Twenty minutes later Alex was fully aware of where they were. They were in the same building, the same concert hall, and the exact same seats they had sat in when they first came to talk to Mr. Dragommi.
There were, however, a few differences. The same building was alive with people and the smell of red wine. The same concert hall was full of people whose voices echoed as they carried on loud conversations. And the same seats had occupants on either side, as did the seats next to them, and the seats next to those, and so on.
"This isn't the same place," she muttered, walking through the lobby with her arm locked with Bobby's.
They wound their way through the crowds of adults their own age, adults way past their age, and finally around a pack of teenagers and college-aged students, towards the coat check.
"Those must be the offspring," muttered Alex as they passed the group of kids.
"Some of them," he said.
They checked their coats and finally Alex got a good look at what her partner was wearing. "I've always liked that suit," she said looking him up and down.
Bobby flushed. "Thanks," he mumbled. "Would you like some wine?" he asked, indicating the bar at the far wall.
"What, are you going to try to get me drunk in hopes that after all of this we'll saunter back to your place and…"
"Not at all," he said, cutting her off with a slight grin. "We're here for a bit of culture," he finished stately.
She looked at him. "Sure, I'll have a glass," she said smiling.
After they had each gotten through their glass of wine, Bobby led her through the doors into the concert hall and to their seats.
"So, what are they playing tonight?" she asked.
"Don Juan- it's a tone poem by Richard Strauss, and the Double Concerto for Cello and Violin by Brahms," he said.
"In that order?" she said, flipping through a small program in her lap.
"Yes. Don Juan is one of Strauss's earlier tone poems- it brought him his initial success- it's about, well, Don Juan," he chuckled, "And The Brahms Double was written for a violin friend of Brahms in hopes to reconcile a fight they had. It started off as a violin concerto and he later added the cello part."
"Good work! Nine out of ten," she said holding up the page in the program book where it more elaborately explained what Bobby had just said.
"Nine? Where'd you get that?"
"You missed Sibelius's Valse Triste. And I got it from the gentleman who showed us to our seats, not that we needed help," she said.
She had distracted him. He wasn't even paying attention to where he was going, what was going on around them, or anything Alex was doing. He was just thinking about her.
"Wait- I missed the Sibelius?" he asked, a little confused.
"Yep," she said. "But it's ok. I forgive you," she said locking her arm in his again and leaning into his shoulder.
They sat there, flipping through the program book with the white noise of conversation in the background, when their serenity was interrupted by a shrill, old voice.
"I don't need help!" she said at the top of her lungs. She reached her tiny, shriveled hand to the seat in front of her and hoisting her person up the single stair in one long, breathtakingly slow second.
She breathed deeply and her respirator clicked as it normalized the pressure in the tank her husband was carrying behind her.
"What are they playing?" she asked loudly before hoisting herself up another stair.
"Brahms, I believe," responded her husband, just as loud.
Bobby slipped out of Alex's hold and got up. "Can I help you?" he asked, holding out a hand.
"I don't need any help!" she repeated, though she smiled.
"You sure," he said, backing away.
"Oh yes, I've been hauling my ass up these stairs for 60 years, I don't need anyone's help." She lifted her leg and attempted to conquer a third stair, but failed. Her foot returned to the side of her other and regrouped before she attempted the incline again with her other foot. Success!
"Ok," said Bobby with a gentle smile.
Alex was watching and listening to all of this- it was hard not to- and spoke up. "Sixty years?" she said.
"Yes ma'am. I was not much younger than you when I first started coming here. That's how I met my Robert," she said fondly as her husband raised her oxygen tank in a toast-like fashion at the acknowledgement.
Alex for a split second looked horror struck, and then had to do everything in her power to keep from laughing. She smiled; a petty compromise. If this woman had guessed Alex's age correctly that put her at 90 at the least… And is this what Roberts turned into? Alex didn't know whether to be frightened or amused.
Bobby returned to his seat and Alex resumed her hold on his arm. The old couple had just made it to their seats when the lights dimmed, and the concertmaster came out on stage, followed by the conductor. When the applause had died down he raised his baton and started the orchestra in a sad, slow moving waltz (that would be the "valse triste" part). The piece only lasted for 5 minutes or so, but already Alex was feeling sleepy and slightly down.
Soon the piece was over, and if Alex was still feeling any kind of sad or sleepy it was quickly wiped away by the vigorous start of the Strauss. It was fast moving and full-bodied (no pun intended). And about 10 minutes into it she turned to Bobby, who was mouthing some words to a horn call, though she couldn't tell what they were.
There was something different about the concert from the tiny portion of rehearsal they had witnessed. Having the audience definitely helped with the whole feel of the music, but it seemed to have a different meaning. During the rehearsal they had felt almost like they were a part of the music. But now, during the concert, Alex felt distinctly like she was watching a show, that he music had lost a little bit of its soul now that it was on display for the whole world. A little bit of its secret had been revealed, and now it was naked. That didn't mean it wasn't still the coolest piece she had ever heard…
Soon the piece ended, fizzling out rather than the loud obnoxious ending she had expected. It was almost a shock how it ended, but it made sense. On the whole it was a pretty short first half, as the second would be.
Bobby looked over to see her clapping with the rest of the audience, but unlike them, she had a slightly confused look on her face. Almost as if she didn't know what to think, or was perhaps holding back a fart- he really couldn't tell. But then again, even Bobby is a guy…
"What did you think?" he asked her.
"It was really nice. I liked the Strauss. It was very cool."
"You looked a little confused," he said.
"The ending was weird- well, not weird, just different. And the whole thing felt a little different than before."
"What do you mean?" They began to shuffle out of the row and back towards the lobby.
"I'm not sure. It felt different from the rehearsal we saw."
Bobby thought about it for a moment. "I think I know what you mean," he said a little distantly.
There was a long silence. "Well?" she said.
"Just wait and see," he said, putting his hand on the small of her back and walking through the doors into the lobby.
"I wish you wouldn't do that," she said.
"What?"
"Your little surprises," she said.
"That's just it. They're surprises," he said smiling.
"You don't have to show off how smart you are, I'm already well aware of and in admiration of it- just tell me."
"Ok fine, I'll show you now," he said. "Follow me."
She sighed. "This isn't telling me, Bobby."
"I don't care," he said as he led her down the stairs into a hallway she hadn't previously seen.
They went through 2 pairs of doors, which led them back into the concert hall, but to the first 5 rows of seats. He stopped and turned to her.
"How much of a stickler are you for balance and perfection?"
"That's a stupid question, Bobby, and you know it."
"Fair enough. My point is that you are going to have to sacrifice the balance of sound, the perfect view, and anything else that you enjoy in the best seats."
"I can do that," she said, starting to smile. "Why did you bring me here?"
"Do you trust me?" he asked, looking her directly in the eye.
"Yes," she answered, looking directly back at him.
"Then let me surprise you," he said leaning in to kiss her.
He pulled away from her and looked at her again. "Ok," she said softly.
With that he took her hand and led her to 2 empty seats in the second row to the right of center stage.
"Are we allowed to do this? How do you know these seats aren't taken?" she asked, smiling almost as if she were about to get busted and would love every second of it.
Bobby looked over and saw the genuine smile on her face. That, coupled with her questions, gave him an image of her pulling her badge out and telling an usher to stuff it while she enjoyed the rest of the concert that he had brought her to…
"The ushers don't care, and people are smart enough to leave their jackets and programs in the seats they want saved through intermission," he said. Alex relaxed. Bobby's thought bubble deflated.
They sat down in the seats and watched the stage. Soon, musicians came trickling onto the stage with their instruments and Alex experienced on a more secret level what she witnessed at the rehearsal. They were carrying on full conversations, messing around, and acting normal. All the tension that she had experienced sitting in her original seats had vanished. Now that she was practically on the stage with the musicians she saw again what she had seen before. Everything was much more relaxed.
But Bobby had been right. Once the soloists came out on stage and the piece began it became obvious that the balance was not perfect, and she definitely couldn't see the entire orchestra, and- "Oh my god- she's wearing tapered ankle, waisted pants!" she said in an exclaimed whisper- she could now see quite a few gaping holes in fashion sense.
However, with the sacrifices came exactly what Bobby had anticipated: the experience was more real- less detached. And even though the sound wasn't perfect, the music had regained its life, and the soloists- the cellist at least; she couldn't see the violinist- looked exactly how they sounded. The music wasn't just some heavenly anomaly any more; it was real human experience.
Soon the piece was over- and though the last movement had filled them both with a sympathetic rage (Alex could have sworn the solos represented a couple fighting), they both made their way out of the concert hall with a sense of satisfaction.
"That was so cool!" said Alex.
Bobby laughed. "I'm glad you liked it."
"That was awesome."
"Just one more surprise," he said, leading her off through a familiar white door in the wall. "This," he said, "is how I know."
Alex had never seen anything like it. Musicians, people, and small children were all running around the place. They were talking and chatting as they had done before, but this time there was the adrenaline of the performance in the air. Everything was a little louder than before. Alex was overwhelmed.
"Bobby!" said an old, scratchy voice. An old man in plain clothes walked up to Bobby.
"Hey Greg," he responded back. "How's it hangin'?" The two shook hands.
"Not bad, not bad. Who's this pretty lady you have with you?"
"Oh, this is my partner from work, Alexandra Eames."
"Nice to meet you Alexandra," said the old, balding man. He leaned in with a sly grin on his face. "I haven't seen Bobby here in ages- not since I was playing here. How'd you get him back?" he whispered.
Alex laughed. "Totally his own idea, I can assure you."
"Marjorie told me about all your questions the other day. Those poor ladies," he said.
"You know I can't discuss that," said Bobby. "I was just showing Alex around. We'd better get going. Got a full day of work tomorrow."
"Well, you let me know how it goes, ok?"
"I'll send what word I can through Marjorie," he replied as he led Alex back out the door into the lobby. "That's a hazard of going back there: old talkative men."
"He wasn't that bad," she said kindly.
"I didn't let him get started," he whispered and they headed back through the crowds towards the SUV.
They pulled up to the street in front of Bobby's apartment ("No, I will not let you walk back alone in the dark!"). "Well," Alex began, but she was cut off.
Bobby kissed her, and she kissed him back. She wanted to say a million things all about the evening, but this just seemed a better way to communicate it. Bobby reached and cupped her face and she put her hand on the one holding her cheek. She pulled her lips away from his. "You'll let me go early enough to get some clothes in the morning?"
"Yes, of course," he mumbled as he tried to kiss her again.
"Let me find a parking spot…"
Once Alex had parked the SUV and they had made it into the elevator, Bobby quickly pushed the button and began to kiss her again, running his hands up and down her back. The elevator bell dinged. They walked out of the elevator, down the hallway to his door, and once they were inside Alex dropped everything and they, still kissing and not really watching where they were going, worked their way across the room towards Bobby's room.
Alex woke to the sound of Bobby's alarm clock and lifted her head to see that it was 6am. She then looked at Bobby, who was lying next to her. "Bobby," she whispered. There was no response. "Bobby." Nothing. "Goren!" she pushed on his bare shoulder.
He awoke with a start and looked at her (a smile immediately spread across his sleepy face). "S'up? Time to go already?"
"We've got work," she said.
"Ok," he said, quickly reaching for her and pulling her on top of him before she could escape. "Thanks for coming last night," he said as he pushed her hair out of her face.
"It was wonderful. But I do have to know one thing," she said.
"Anything."
"What were the words you were singing to the horn call in Don Juan?"
"Oh," Bobby laughed, wiping sleep from his eye. "Uh…" he hesitated before singing very softly, "Don Juan gets laid more than I do, he's such a stud, and I'm a dud…"
Alex laughed hysterically. "You're shitting me, right?"
"No," he said enthusiastically. "There is an alternate version as well."
"Oh God, do I even-"
"Don Juan gets laid more than I do, it's so unfair, why can't he share?"
"Robert Goren! Stop it!" she said unable to control her laughter.
"Ok, ok, fine. Go. I'll see you at work," he said smiling as Alex lifted herself out of bed, pulled on her skirt and one of his t-shirts, and then left the room silently grinning from ear to ear.
---------------- In case you haven't figured out by now, this is almost identical to every concert going experience I have. If you take away Alex and Bobby (and everything that goes on between them), but leave everything else, and insert yourself, I swear this is just what going to the Symphony is like. And yes, the ushers really don't care if you move around during intermission…