Emily shook her head.
“Strong. It means strong. Brianna Grace will be as strong as we are.”
“Oh-h, she has mom’s name, too.” With that, Emily took out her violin, and Jen knew exactly what to expect. Amazing Grace. The prayer her protégé sister played every night before bed to connect her to their mother.
“I’m not strong,” whispered Emily, tucking the instrument under her chin.
“Except when I’m playing. When I’m with Mozart, when I’m lost in that world…nothing can hurt me.”
Jen’s breath whooshed out, and she clasped her sister’s shoulders. “You—and I
—are stronger than we think, Emily. That’s what I’ve learned. We are as strong as we need to be. Your world—even without Mozart—would be fine.”
And I’m a fine one to talk. She needs Mozart like I needed Gloria Gaynor.
Emily whispered, “I can’t believe that this year is my last one with the Boston Youth Symphony. I don’t want it to end.”
Change. Her little sister was afraid of change. Jen understood that too well.
“Oh, honey. You’re heading into your next adventure is all. First, Tanglewood this summer. Didn’t you say Maestro Perlman would be there again this year?
Then the New England Conservatory. Come on, play for me.”
Where was Mike when she needed him? Elite quarterbacks knew how to handlepeople. She was the worst psychologist in the world.
Emily’s first note brought Jen’s thoughts to a halt. No matter how often she heard her sister play, she always forgot how magnificent her music was. She recognized Mozart’s A Little Night Music. Emily’s eyes had closed, her bow flew as if of its own accord, and Jen knew the girl had, indeed, become part of another world.
She waited a bit before approaching. “Enough, Em. You need to be awake for Bobby in the morning and focus on him. Mundane, real world stuff. Got it?”
The dreamy eyes sparkled. “I think I can handle my nephew. You go to your rehearsal. No worries.”
Right. In the Delaney family, there were always worries. But she wouldn’t let Doug Collins be one of them. She hadn’t even mentioned him to Emily, which
proved her point. He was forgettable.
##
A few minutes before ten o’clock the next morning, Jen greeted other members of the All-City Chorus in the lobby of the Commonwealth Theater. Excitement reverberated. The group had only two full rehearsals left before their performance.
“People! People.”
Jen turned toward the speaker and listened. “We’ve got an almost sold-out house. Our reputation is growing.”
“Or we’ve coerced more family and friends to buy tickets!” joked one of the singers.
Jen chuckled along with the rest. Sure, family and friends would attend, but also music lovers and supporters of community talent. She loved being part of this volunteer chorus. It seemed to round out her family time and career interests.
And it added to her social life. Girlfriends. Guy friends. Her days were full.
Busy. No lonely moments. She made sure of that.
“Good morning, Henny-Penny.”
She froze for a moment, and her heart raced. Keep your cool, Jen.
Pivoting slowly, she finally nodded. “Good morning, ramblin’ man.”
He winced. “Five years in New York. Hardly rambling.”
“Depends on your outlook, I guess. Sorry, I’ve got to get inside and on stage with the others.”
“How’s Lisa doing?”
“Excuse me?” Her thoughts whirled. Nothing about the birth was in the papers today. She’d checked before leaving her apartment. Boston loved their QB, and Mike’s life was public—most of the time.
“Deduction...and a hunch. I heard your directions to the driver last night.
Brigham and Women’s. And you were speaking with Mike.” He shrugged.
“Lisa’s doing just fine.” And that’s all she’d give him.
His expression softened. “I’m glad, Jen. Very glad.”
That gentle voice, so warm and caring, reminded her of the man she used to know. Her heart ached for a moment, but she avoided his glance.
He held the heavy door open, and she walked through, feeling his eyes track her progress to the front of the theater. She joined the mezzo-sopranos on stage, all the while fighting the urge to turn around. When she couldn’t postpone it a moment longer, her glance darted to the door in the back.
Gone. He was gone. She sensed her relief, then her disappointment. Now that was something she needed to figure out.
