Chapter 4:
The day started like any other performance day. Bella decided to treat herself to a scone and entered the Recovery Café ahead of her normal schedule. Sadly, that meant Edward was not on her bus this morning, but she wanted to sit and enjoy her coffee and treat rather than juggle it and both of her instrument cases. Today's performance had her playing featured solos on both the oboe and the English horn. She was almost giddy in her excitement.
Bella's favorite employees, Peter and Charlotte, were behind the counter, and they greeted her with broad grins and welcomes. The couple had recently been promoted to co-managers and proudly shared their news with Bella who was just as overjoyed as they were. The two had lost everything, including a beloved pet Siamese cat named Thai-Am in an apartment fire two years before and had fallen into some poor life choices, their words, in order to escape the pain. Recovery Café had provided them with the assistance they needed to overcome the physical and emotional toll they had gone through and they were on track to graduate in a few months.
Bella sat at cozy table near the case displaying the goodies for sale, checking the news on her phone as she picked at her lemon blueberry scone, her oboe and English horn cases between her feet.
Suddenly, loud, argumentative voices pulled her away from her reading, and she looked up to see a tall, heavyset man towering over Charlotte's petite frame.
"You need to leave," she ordered, poking him in the chest.
"Not without my money."
"You didn't work, you don't get paid."
"I need my money!"
The gentleman growled and spat as Charlotte and Peter calmly denied him.
"Fred, you want me to call your sponsor?" Peter offered, slowly moving toward the panic button below the counter.
"No, I don't want my damned sponsor! I want…" Fred realized where Peter was going and lunged for the cash register.
With a practiced move, Charlotte poked Fred in the eyes, causing him to howl and draw back. In his fury at being thwarted, he stumbled backward, landing on Bella's table. His weight proved to be too much for the lightweight wood, and it collapsed, knocking her and her chair over. Bella tumbled to the floor with a loud crash.
Somewhere in the back of her startled brain, Bella remembered the admonition of every director and music teacher she ever had and scrambled to protect her instrument cases as she fell. Pain shot through her right arm, and she realized she had tried to catch herself and most of her weight landed on the heel of one hand.
"Fuck!" she muttered, pulling her arm to her chest, tears prickling at her eyes.
"Don't move," a familiar voice came as gentle hands took her arm.
"What happened?" she asked, looking around the shop, confused at why Edward was wearing an usher's uniform and in Recovery Café.
A quick glance around the room revealed Peter talking on the phone with whom she assumed to be the police, Charlotte by his side offering details, and Fred was nowhere to be found. She turned to face a kneeling Edward who was carefully examining her arm, wrist, and fingers.
"Can you move your fingers?"
She wiggled all five, wincing a little at the movement.
"How does it feel?"
"Like I sprained my wrist."
"Do you want to go to get it x-rayed?"
"I've sprained my wrist before." She rolled her wrist a few times. It was tender, but a few Ibuprofen and a day or two of rest and she knew it would be fine.
"Anything else hurt? It looks like your chair collapsed under you."
Bella did a quick internal assessment. She was certain her rump was bruised, and tomorrow was going to be a bit painful, but otherwise, she was physically sound. Edward relaxed after she shook her head.
"I'm going to be sore tomorrow."
"No doubt."
She moved to stand and after a brief hesitation, took Edward's hand to assist her. Once on her feet, Bella gave her contact information to Charlotte in case the police needed a statement. Peter said he would be in touch if they needed any information, but since the perpetrator was known by the staff and a camera had captured everything, he doubted she would hear anything.
"You're free to go."
With Edward carrying her instruments, Bella slowly exited the café and headed toward the performer's entrance in mutual silence.
"How?" she murmured, not entirely sure what she wanted to ask as the two headed toward the theater.
"I got out of lecture early, so I was able to go home and change instead of riding my normal bus. I hated I missed you, but in the end, I was walking by just as this man barreled out of the café."
"Fred." Bella realized she was in a bit of a shocked state and one-word answers were the best she could do right now.
"The guy in the store ran out after him and recognized me and must have remembered I am usually in my scrubs, so he pulled me into check on you."
She nodded as he opened the door and motioned for her to enter.
"It all happened so fast. I just—" Bella flexed her wrist and realized her blouse was torn at her elbow. Closer observation revealed she had caught the fabric on something sharp and her arm was bleeding.
Edward noticed her gingerly poking her fingers through the hole and coming back with a bit of blood on them.
"I'll go get a first aid kit. You take a seat." He guided her to the performer's dressing room and disappeared.
Word of her injury spread quickly and Irina, the concertmaster, Zaphrina, the backstage manager, and even Maestro Aro himself appeared one by one to make sure she was of sound mind and body.
"Bella Bella," Aro murmured as Edward gently rolled up her sleeve and examined the shallow gash. "You are not performing tonight."
With one raised hand he silently stopped her protests before they left her lips.
"You have had too much adrenaline, yes? It would not be wise to have you crash and pass out on the stage. What would the children think?"
Bella winced as the cold saline wash rinsed her wound and shook her head as Edward murmured an apology. She understood Aro's caution, but she had never missed a performance.
"But tonight's schedule is oboe heavy. The solo from Swan Lake, Scheherazade, and the Star Wars Medley," she argued. Bella loved the cantina scene part and the squeals of recognition from the audience always brought joy to her heart. And that did not include the English horn piece.
"Then I play." Aro shrugged. "We cut the English horn, though. I am not successful on that."
From the deep recesses of her mind, Bella remembered that Aro was an accomplished oboist in his own right, but to play three such challenging pieces on short notice sounded impossible.
"We turn it into a lesson," he continued with a casual wave of one hand. "I will teach that life is full of little moments, and we often have to change plans at the last minute. How we react to those moments and what we remember in the future, that is what is important. Life is not perfect. We will take an accident," he motioned to her newly bandaged arm, "and say it gave an old man the chance to play once again. If I hit a wrong note, I hit a wrong note. They will not remember the wrong ones, only the right."
Aro shrugged. It certainly would not be the first time, nor the last, that a wrong note would be played within the halls of the Seattle Symphony for Children.
"The beauty of music, that is what they will remember." He straightened himself and with a nod, turned on his heel to announce to the others the change in tonight's program.
"I need to go check in," Edward said softly, placing Bella's lunch bag in front of her. "You probably should eat something with protein."
She nodded and opened her tote as he left the room, pulling out a turkey sandwich and taking a bite. Bella found she was surprisingly hungry, and it was quickly devoured. She tried to remember how often she had seen Edward on the bus. It was almost every performance day, come to think of it. She had just never put two and two together. But why should she? He was just someone on her bus that she occasionally had a conversation with about the weather or traffic or how school was going. Bella wracked her brain to recall if she had ever passed him in the halls or around the theater. With his wild, auburn hair and well over six feet tall height, he was not someone you could dismiss, but obviously, she had.
"How did I not know you work here?" she murmured, reaching for her water bottle.
"I follow you in almost every performance," Edward said, startling her. "Sorry. Didn't mean to jolt you. Maestro has arranged for me to stay if you would like, to make sure you are alright."
"He worries about us all."
"One of the reasons he was chosen for this particular position. He has a way of making the music real for the audience as well as coax the most out of the performers. Anyhow, I usually get off the bus at the next stop since it's closer to the staff entrance. I go change clothes in the bathrooms and clock in. There's always a lot of people milling about. That's why you didn't realize I work here, too."
The sounds of the symphony warming up drifted down the hallway and the lights dimmed. The distinct click of a baton on the conductor's stand caused Bella to straighten in her seat. Years of performances and rehearsals made the reaction second nature even though she was nowhere near the stage.
Soft, lilting notes began to fill the air and Bella held her breath as she took in just how beautiful the music was. Swan Lake, one of her favorite pieces.
"I don't get to hear what it sounds like to the audience very often," she whispered when the oboe solo began, hesitantly at first and then with more power and energy. "I used to dance around the living room to this song, dreaming I was…"
Maestro Aro still had the skills, Bella thought just before the squawk that only a double reed could make cut through the air. She heard the rumble of Aro's voice and could picture the excuse he made and the chuckle from members of the symphony as they responded.
Another click of the baton and the piece began again. Soon, she closed her eyes and rocked her head back and forth in measure with the flow of the music.
"Dance with me?"
Bella's eyes flew open and her face blushed faintly. She had forgotten Edward was still there.
"I…"
"Dance with me?" He stood before her, his hand extended. "I've tried to get up the nerve to ask you out every day for weeks, but I couldn't figure out how. Every performance, I can't keep my eyes off you when you play. I am enthralled and want to learn everything I can about you. Please?"
She hesitated, but slowly her hand took his, and she stood. He slid one arm around her waist as she put one hand on his shoulder.
"This okay?" he murmured as the two moved around the dressing room, avoiding open instrument cases, tables, and chairs.
"Perfect," she replied softly, a faint smile gracing her lips.
"Always." Edward's grin matched hers as he whirled her around, careful not to make her dizzy.
*sniff* I'm going to miss these two! Thank you for reading. Just a tiny epilogue to go…