“You sure you don’t wanna wait with Angela, hon?” I asked, referring to one of our instructors. “She has grapes and juice boxes…”
Maya shook her head stubbornly and tightened her grip on my hand. “I’mma wait w-wiv you.”
I threw a helpless look toward Anthony, who was watching the exchange, and his own expression left it up to me. What do you wanna do? I didn’t fucking know, but we were out of time, so I had to improvise.
We couldn’t have her getting upset backstage.
“One minute till the doors open!” Anthony called to everyone.
The last two stragglers from the choir darted onto the stage, and my brother closed the curtains.
“Fuck it,” I muttered and picked up Maya. “Try not to steal the show, brown eyes.” I touched one of her bouncy curls and earned myself a toothless grin. “No grabbing the microphone, no touching the keys on the piano. Gabeesh?”
“G’bish!” She nodded. “Can I w-wave?”
I laughed and joined David on the bench, and I situated her sideways across my lap. “You can wave when all the people have sat down, and then when we start playing, you keep your little paws to yourself. How’s that?”
She nodded seriously. “I keep ’em here.” She folded her arms over her chest and tucked her hands close to her body.
“That’s perfect,” I chuckled. Turning to David, I offered a reassuring smile at his raised brows that he aimed at Maya, before I turned back to the rest of the ensemble. “Everyone ready? Anthony’s about to open the doors.”
The kids responded with nervous nods and murmurs of “sure” and “ready.”
“Remember to have fun,” I urged. “I don’t wanna be the only one with ants in my pants.”
From the older teenagers, that earned me a couple eye-rolls. It seemed they had to be indifferent now, but they’d had no issues clownin’ off at rehearsal earlier. The sax players had even come up with a dance. I hoped they felt brave enough to have at it.
Maya grabbed the pocket of my jeans and peered inside. “You got an-n-nts?”
I smiled widely and shook my head. “Just an expression. There are no ants, I promise.”
“Phew.” She grinned goofily.
Seconds later, the auditorium filled with the sounds of parents, siblings, and grandparents. There was always a pang in my chest because I knew not all the kids had someone in the audience. It was why Anthony and I made sure to record each recital, so the students could show their folks at home. I knew Carmen, in particular, was bummed out about her dad not being able to make it. He couldn’t get off work. But he’d see her fantastic progress with her saxophone online.
As my brother gave us a brief introduction on the other side of the curtain, telling the family members a little about what we’d worked on this semester, David stretched his fingers and rolled his shoulders like he’d watched me do so many times.
My little wonder boy. Kid could go far if he kept this up.
When Anthony was done, I made eye contact with everyone one last time and nodded, ’cause this was it. It was time to show their nonnas how it was done.
The curtains were rolled back to the sound of parents applauding, and Maya waved merrily to everyone the second the spotlights hit us. I stifled my chuckle and adjusted the mic between David and me, and there was no other intro. I counted us down from four, my stomach fluttered, I wondered where Gideon was sitting—or if he was one of those standing in the back—and about a hundred tiny other thoughts flitted past in my mind right before my fingers hit the piano keys.
“Lonely with Me” by Parachute was a good upbeat song to start things off with, and if Gideon happened to read into the choice of song, I’d consider it a bonus.
David joined in a couple lines later, as did the drums, bass, and guitars.
Baby…
I’ll be wherever you are.
The most explosive entrance belonged to the choir and the sax players who filled in during the chorus, and it was im-fucking-possible to withhold my grin as I sang. They were so goddamn good. My chest swelled with pride, and Maya forgot my instructions and clapped excitedly.
I was ready to join my brother here full time. This was my dream. We were gonna expand. His vision was mine too.
Baby…
You shouldn’t be lonely.
Before this recital was over, we were gonna get a damn standing ovation, ’cause we were killing it. The energy flowing through us was something else. All the nerves had taken a hike, and the students were moving to the beat we created together.The same energy buzzed through us the following evening when Anthony and I found ourselves standing on a stage in a run-down, abandoned church at the edge of Williamsburg. Heaters along the brick walls and bistro lights in the broken ceiling threw a warm glow over the packed church for the fifth year in a row.