Ada Lyman reminisces during her grandson's wedding.
Prologue
Manchester, New Hampshire
June 30, 2013
Felix had finished arranging his accordion neatly on his lap when Ada noticed him pull something out of his jacket pocket, something small and rectangular.
"Felix!" Ada exclaimed as he tapped the small cardboard box he had in his hand and a cigarette peeked out.
"What?" Felix asked, feigning innocence.
"I can't believe you!" Ada huffed.
"I'm not planning on lighting it, Adelaide. It's part of the charm, it completes the look," he explained, placing the cigarette between his lips. "I don't even have a lighter with me."
Ada was annoyed that he was right, he looked like he belonged on some European street corner, charming women out of their change with that cigarette dangling from his lips and the old but well-preserved and intricately decorated accordion on his lap- he had no right to look so debonair at 84.
"Besides, I'm already dying, you should've yelled at me 60 years ago."
Her cousin predictably took their conversation in a morbid direction but Ada knew he was only teasing her and was waiting for another huff of indignation. All she gave him was a sigh and a roll of her eyes which appeared to satisfy him.
There was no use in reminding him that there had been yelling well over 60 years ago, she knew he remembered- he remembered everything. Her father, who had been alarmed by how much his adolescent nephew was smoking at such a young age, hadn't made much headway with the stubborn boy but he had at least managed to get Felix to cut down drastically on how many cigarettes he went through in a day and he managed to keep the smoking out of the house, not that that had been too difficult considering how much Felix disliked being in enclosed spaces for too long and all it had taken was a single cough from Ada for him to dash out of the house to the front stoop with his cigarettes.
While Ada thought about their post-war reunion and Felix's adjustment to his new home during that period, Felix began his gentle tugging and pushing of the bellows, the fingers on his left hand playing the bass keys that began to form the structure of the waltz before his right hand joined in with the melody.
At first it was difficult to look away from her cousin- to even notice the wedding reception going on around them. There had always been something so painfully entrancing about him, so beautiful and otherworldly, especially in moments like these when he exposed a part of himself that he preferred to keep hidden, when he displayed such an intensity of feeling for all to see, his eyes closing as his fingers danced across the keys, his entire body visibly keeping time.
The sight of him and the music, as beautiful and haunting as her cousin, took Ada back to her childhood. Took her back to Mrs. Bronstein and her gaggle of grandchildren, to the segregated weddings and the women's balcony, to Shabbat dinners and hunts for afikoman, to matzo balls and the shock of finding carp in the bathtub; a world Ada never would have been exposed to if she'd only lived in her uncle's world of greasepaint and spotlights, elaborate costumes and demanding producers.
End Notes
The piece that Felix plays is youtube dot com slash watch ?v=RsSsNk52b4s though he plays it as a solo so if you'd like to see it being performed as a solo go to youtube dot com slash watch ?v=34PMi1Zon1w
The next part of this story will be a flashback to the 1940s.