Chapter 9

I did, in fact, get out of work early the next day and I walked upstairs in time to just miss Lori walking from the shower to the bedroom. Damn.

"Tom, glad to see you could make it," Andrew told me as he answered the door.

"Yeah, me too. Work seems to have finally calmed down. By the way, I hope I’m not expected to wear a tuxedo." Andrew was wearing black pants, a white shirt, bow tie and cummerbund, so I was not sure if I was underdressed.

"Oh no, our little band is probably going to be the only people in tuxes. That suit you’re wearing will be just fine."

I followed him past the kitchen into the living room. The cello was lying on the floor next to a chair with a coat draped across on its back. "I was just getting in a little practice before we leave," he explained. "Would you like a drink?" he asked me. It appeared he had one sitting on the coffee table.

"Sure, how about a beer?"

"Bass, Heineken or Harp?" was his question back to me.

"Bass."

"Right." He opened the refrigerator as he informed me, "By the way, there’s an open bar there, so you don’t need to bring anything more than cab fare and the cost of the ticket."

"With how much those tickets cost, I was rather hoping that would be the case."

"You have hoped rightly," he replied as he handed me the bottle he had just opened. He walked back over to his seat, took a drink from what I figured was scotch before picking up his cello again.

"Should you be drinking before you play?"

"Oh, I always have one drink before these charity things. I feel like I shouldn’t miss out completely on an evening’s booze," he explained before taking a deep breath and falling into a concentrated playing of scales interspersed with short, thirty second sections of music.

As he finished, Lori came walking out of the bedroom, putting in her earrings. "Almost ready?" she asked aloud. I turned around to look at her and I began the business of gawking.

She was stunning. She wore a vibrantly red dress that fell down to her ankles, aside from the side slit that worked its way above her knee. It hugged her hips in the most appealing manner while leaving her shoulders bare, except for the curly dark tresses spilling over them. Adding in the calm, slight smile she held, the legendary cause of the Trojan War seemed very believable as I saw her standing there, deserving much more than a thousand ships. Radiant goddesses do not come along very often, and images of them are enduring. However, another image of her comes more quickly to my mind, but that story will be told in its own time.

"Quite ready," Andrew replied to Lori’s question. "How about you?" he asked her in return.

"The only other thing I need is my purse. Looks like Tom’s ready," she said as she finished putting her earrings in and directing a, "Well, how do I look?" at me.

I realized my mouth was hanging a little open at this point. I closed it before I replied, "Exquisite."

She smiled a demure little smile and replied, "Thank you, you’re too kind."

Andrew took a last pull from a cigarette that had been burning the ashtray and looked at his watch. "It looks like we’d better be going soon." He threw on his coat and we walked out the door.

#

The cab we hailed took us to a very nice hotel in Lower Manhattan. Walking through the expansive main lobby, we headed through a vaulted entranceway and into an ornate ballroom filled with round, white-clothed, set and centerpieced tables. Draped windows towering along a side wall stretched toward the cavernously high ceiling. A stage was set at the other end of the room, whereat two men and a woman were pulling out instruments and setting music stands. Andrew and Lori walked up to the dais to meet what were obviously the other members of his quartet.

As they greeted each other, I took the opportunity to pay my entrance donation to a stocky woman sitting near the arched entryway.

Lori came walking back toward me as I finished the job of settling my donation. "Would you like to get a drink?" she inquired.

"I think I just might. Is the bar open?"

"Yes, they have service for the early crowd, what with them mostly being organizers."

"You know, it’s very hard not to feel underdressed. I was under the impression a tux would not be the norm," I said as I indicated in the direction of the tuxedoed gentlemen mingling close to the stage.

"Oh, don’t worry," she reassured me as she looked back over at the other guests, "When you’re one of the people organizing an event like this, you almost have to wear a tuxedo. You’ll fit in just fine." She turned back to me, looked me up and down, and informed me, "You look very handsome. You should wear a suit more often."

I felt my face warm at the compliment. "Well," I said, trying to affect a dapper demeanor about me, "shall I escort you to the bar?" I asked, as held out an arm for Lori to hold onto.

"I’d be charmed," she answered in a perfectly natural manner.

The bar, being close to the stage, was also near where most everybody was mingling. As I walked arm in arm with Lori, I could see the other men attempt to nonchalantly check her out. The men standing with their wives were especially humorous to watch as they scratched their necks or rubbed their chins or brushed imaginary dust off their shoulders, their eyes glancing in a direction their noses were not facing. Let me tell you, it feels pretty good to be walking with the woman everyone else is staring at.

As the attendees trickled in, I followed Lori around as she mingled in and out of various groups. She had a gregarious and confident manner about her that was not nearly as natural for me. However, through her, I managed to feel thoroughly at ease as she took me on a tour of the assemblage and introduced me to a host of people she had also just met.

Around quarter to ten, dinner was served as Andrew and his fellows played music that could just as easily been heard in an elevator. As dessert was served, they took a break as a gentleman walked up to the dais to congratulate everybody on coming, how much money they had raised, as well as giving special thanks to the more munificent benefactors.

Following this announcement the quartet broke into music that was actually familiar even to my untrained ears. As some people went up to the front of the room to dance to the slow waltz being played, I decided that it would be nice to be able to do the same with Lori. I turned to her and I was taken aback by what I saw.

Lori was absolutely transfixed. She stared at the musicians as they played, a half-finished crème brûlée sitting in front of her. Her eyes unseeing but intent; and not but a little bit longing. She was motionless in a way I’d never seen her before. Next to her dish, the hand holding her spoon was frozen in place. I observed her unblinkingly sitting for what seemed like a full minute or more, she slowly closed and opened her eyes as she took in and released a deep breath before resuming her previous reverie. I attempted to break the spell with, "Would you like to dance?"

She seemed to be mulling over the other sound that had come into her ear as she blinked a couple times before turning to me and answering a cheery, "Hm?"

I repeated, "Would you like to dance?"

"Oh, not quite yet," she replied with a slight smile. She placed her spoon on the saucer under her dessert dish and dabbed her mouth with a napkin. She then laid her forearms on the table, leaning forward onto them. As soon as she stopped moving, she crawled back into that shell she had been in before.

Taking the hint she was not in the mood to go up there, I listened to the performance. Actually, I tried to listen to the performance, but my attentions kept returning to the woman sitting next to me. I couldn’t help it, I never expected that she could become wrapped up in something to the point of paralysis.

We provided appropriate applause after the piece finished. As the music began again, Lori resumed her rapt attentiveness. After several repetitions of listening, clapping and listening, the band took a break. Andrew walked up to us as his fellow musicians walked toward other faces in the crowd.

"How are we doing?" Andrew asked us.

"You sound very good," Lori answered him in an aloofly chipper voice. I was expecting something much more adulatory, considering her response to the music.

"You have impressed me once again," I added, though not for any keen ability on my part to judge their playing. It was more for the profound effect it had on my dinner companion.

"Thanks," he answered very genuinely. "If you’ll excuse me, I’d better go meet up with my fellow band-mates for a smoke break," and thus he left our company.

"You certainly seem to be enjoying the show," I told Lori.

"I really do love the way they play. Hearing that music being played so well… I just become very absorbed."

"It’s quite something to watch," I remarked, to which she gave a shy smile. "It’s rather bad for me, however, as I was hoping to lure you onto the dance floor yet this evening," I told her in as light a way as I could manage.

With a self-assured nonchalance, she replied, "Oh, I think I can be convinced."

A little later, Andrew returned. Sitting down next to me, he asked, "So, are you enjoying yourself?"

"That I am," I told him. Now that Lori indicated a willingness to dance with me, I would have a chance to gain most of her attention.

"Good," he told me, "I won’t ask if it is for the music or the company. Anyway, do you recognize anything we’re playing?"

"As far as naming it, no, but I’m surprised how much of it is familiar. I’ve recognized just about everything you’ve played."

"Classical music manages to work its way into your ears more often than you might realize. Sometimes, you become familiar with great pieces of music and you don’t even realize it. Commercials are especially good for that. Anyway, I guess I’d better get back up there." The double bass player had begun tuning his instrument.

The rest of the evening was pretty well more of the same. I did, indeed, dance with Lori, though I might as well have not bothered. Her mind was quite absent. I was merely the person who was moving her around while she listened. Every so often she would look up at me and give me a smile, but it would quickly leave and I would be dancing with a mannequin. An exceedingly graceful mannequin, but a mannequin nonetheless.

The event ended around two-thirty in the morning, whereupon Lori and I helped Andrew carry instruments and supporting equipment to the van that had hauled it there. It was very late as we shared another cab back to our building. Another night of trying to work on Lori passed and I could not help but find it odd that it was Andrew who had managed to frustrate my efforts once again.