Chapter 6

She found her usual table with no trouble, even in the darkness of the place. As usual, it was the empty one closest to the piano, slightly to the left. Once she was barely seated, a waitress left a scotch on the table, as if on cue. She nodded in acknowledgment. Some minutes later the lights on the stage announced he was making his entrance. She raised the glass and had a sip. He was shy as always over his presentation. Then, once his fingers rested on the keyboard, he closed his eyes, and she closed hers.

She didn't realize the performance was almost over until the chords of the song started to sound. It was her song, the song she had performed that day when she auditioned back in the early 70's. He'd been the pianist on stage. And for the time the song was coming alive from his piano, she had been his Desiree. She was living her dream, auditioning in front of the Great Steven Sondheim, and getting his acknowledgment gesture after a beautiful performance. Once the piece had been over, she'd looked to the pianist, and he'd looked back at her. They'd met backstage, not knowing it was never going to be the same for either of them.

.

The sound of the applause brought her back from her reverie. He stood up from the bench, made his usual salute to the audience, and surprisingly, got down from the stage right to her table. She straightened in her chair. She'd attended several of his performances through the years. Different times, different places, but always at the same table; the special one he had reserved for her; the one on the left. She was sure he had noticed she was there more than once. But he had never acknowledged or come back to her table since that unforgettable evening. He had never come back to where he once intended to be, to her side. Until tonight.

"May I sit down?" he asked.

She raised her eyes from her glass. He was older for sure, but still handsome and tall, with a slight but fit body and gray hair surrounding his green eyes. A few wrinkles here and there accentuating his beautiful face. "Sure. I've been waiting for you asking that for a long time."

He raised his hand to the waitress to refill Ann's drink and to bring another scotch for him.

"So, you still close your performances with that one after all these years…"

"I do." He raised his eyes from the table to meet hers; "So, you still come to listen to it after all these years?" He smiled lovingly at her. "How are you, Ann?"

She swallowed the last of her scotch, in a desperate search for courage.

"I'm fine. I've been spending some time in New York, on vacation. I couldn't leave without listening to your piano."

"And I thought you've come to see me…" He snorted.

"That too," she added smiling. "How are you?" she raised her eyes from her glass and asked him adoringly.

"I'm good, trying to fill my existence with music after you decided to be out of it. Hard task, I may say."

"Don't say that, please. You are still on Broadway, and you're still playing the piano. Those two things are not small. You are living a wonderful life," she said.

Their scotch arrived, and they shared a silence until they were alone again.

"I missed you," he said.

"I missed you too. But looking at you playing the piano from time to time made it easier."

"Seeing you at the table from time to time did make it easier for me, too. Or hardest, who am I fooling?" He gave her a sad smile this time. "I heard you divorced Robert a few years ago."

"Things weren't working. We decided we were wasting precious time. We remained friends, though."

"Of course, he was a fool, but not that foolish to lose you."

She grabbed his hand between hers. The ring was still on her right hand, he noticed. He had put it on her left one initially. But when she decided she was going back to California after not getting the role, after auditioning for a long time for different characters without success, he had made her promise they would fix things. But she'd asked him to follow with his life, playing the piano here in New York. And she would try to follow hers at home, in California and that they would meet again in the future if life allowed them to find a right time.

It took her more time than she intended until she found the courage to figure out her mistake. And then, when she'd begun to come to Paul's performances a few years ago, he realized what a fool he had been; and that he was scared about facing her. Until tonight.

"Let the past rest in the past where it belongs, Paul. We're here now." Grabbing hold of her hand, Paul pulled her to a stop. But she went on, "I'm sorry about what happened all those years ago. I didn't mean to hurt you." Her hand felt soft and warm against his skin.

"I know you didn't. But I'm glad that at least, after all these years, you were still faithful to your promise. You came back."

"A lot happened since the last time we spoke, Paul. Life… I never thought I'd find the courage to be speaking to you again." She stared at him with sad eyes. "But I'm here, and I don't want our next time together to be unbearable for either of us. We've missed enough time. "

He had another sip of his scotch. "I'm glad you came."

"I'm glad I came, too. There's always a second chance, Paul. Between the two of us, we should be able to work something out. How does friendship sound for a start?" Her hand rubbed the back of his hand.

He remained in silence, his eyes fixed on their joined hands.

"Paul?"

His gaze swept up her body to her frowning face, "Friends sounds good." With a sinking heart, he realized their life would be like this for some time until they worked it out. "For a start." He smiled at her.

"For a start," she smiled him back.