Out of Nowhere
"What the fuck, Therese? Did you run off with last night's cash or what?" Dannie's voice thundered over the phone. Therese had answered her cell still half asleep, and it took a moment for her to register her friend's upset.
"Jesus Christ, Dannie, I'm so sorry! I forgot to make the deposit... I have the money right here in my rucksack, it just totally slipped my mind." Forgetting about money meant skating on thin ice as far as her job was concerned but she couldn't lie to Dannie, couldn't make up some fancy excuse why she had decided to keep the cash with her overnight.
"Belivet, you'll be the end of me, you hear? This is the fourth time I tried to call this morning. If you hadn't picked up, I don't know what I'd have done next. Called the neighborhood hospitals, I guess. And morgues..." Dannie was peeved but she could tell he was relieved as well.
"Oh fuck!" She exclaimed. "What's the matter now?" Dannie sounded agitated again. "I've overslept and I'll be terribly late from my piano lesson with the Dragon Lady... I'll swing by the bar during lunch hour and bring back your precious dough. Bye!"
She was a mess, there was no denying that. After getting home Therese had fallen asleep in her arm chair fully dressed and with headphones still on. The cord had tangled over her face leaving a curved imprint on her cheeks. Even the earlobes felt all tingly and sore. It's too late to take a shower, so a change of shirt will have to do. She frowned at her smoke infused blouse and replaced it with a fresh one. The face in the mirror, however, didn't look quite as fresh. Oh, to hell with it! She was out of the door in a matter of seconds.
Professor Robichek watched her behind her austere looking horn rimmed glasses. She was not happy. Therese was late and such things were simply not tolerated, not with the Dragon Lady. Therese could have tickled those ivories like Arthur Rubinstein himself, but she wouldn't have given her the time of day.
"Therese dear, I really expect you to take this more seriously. Punctuality is not an empty virtue. You as an aspiring musician should be well aware of that. You do your homework, you show up on time and you may just get to keep your scholarship." Depressed, Therese bowed her head. She’d been practicing diligently, she’d made progress, and she was usually never late. “Yes ma’am, you’re absolutely right, ma’am.” There was no point in fighting this, she knew, even though her momentary lapse was now being blown out of proportion.
The late nights had their toll, Therese acknowledged gloomily while gathering her things after the lesson. She needed her eight hours of sleep, but she also needed the money. Sighing she picked up the Chopin Nocturnes and put them in her rucksack. Her thoughts wandered back to the previous night and the elation she had felt while listening to the unfamiliar female voice. She had never heard anything quite like it though she knew her jazz as well as the classics. How could something, someone, like that have avoided her attention?
“Yo, Dannie!” Therese smiled sheepishly at her friend who sat behind the office desk trying to make sense of the never ending paper work. “Yo to yourself, Terry.” She could tell he was in a better mood although absorbed in his daily routines. “Here’s the money. I’m really, really sorry. Didn’t mean to cause you a heart attack.” She handed out the thick pouch containing last night’s balance. “Thirsty customers, good…” Dannie nodded approvingly. “I think it’s safe to say we’ll live another month.” He was pleased, humming a tune Therese couldn’t quite recognize.
“Something strange happened last night,” she started apprehensively. “A woman came by with a business proposition.” Dannie’s interest was immediately intrigued. “Yeah? How did that happen?” Therese told him about the unexpected visitor and gave Dannie the business card. She spoke nonchalantly, focusing on the facts rather than her own musings of the surprise meeting.
“Abigail Gerhard! She’s a tough nut to crack.” A broad, mischievous smile lighted Dannie’s face as he spoke. “Been around this business for a long time now. A real ace, if you ask me. She’s had quite a number of class acts up on her sleeve over the years.” He sounded positively thrilled. “What’s she up to now? Some young song bird on the threshold of stardom, I presume? A Diana Krall wannabe?” Therese felt a lump in her throat not really knowing why. “No, nothing like that. Someone making a comeback – Carolyn Ross.” Reluctantly she handed out the CD she had listened to repeatedly all night.
Dannie stared at her looking positively flabbergasted. “Well, I’ll be damned if I ever thought I’d see this day coming! Carolyn Ross, of all people…” Therese was irritated as if she was being withheld some vital information. Who the hell was this Carolyn Ross and how come Dannie seemed to know so much about her? Her impatience was showing, and Dannie was relishing the moment. When it came to music, it wasn’t often he had the upper hand, so he made the most of it now. “She was huge for a moment. Larger than life, really. What a voice, what a looker! Everyone thought she’d be there for the long run, I mean the stars were aligned her way, that’s for sure.” He had a dreamy, faraway look in his eyes.
“What happened?” Therese couldn’t wait for him to snap out his reverie. “Oh, it’s the same old story… she got married to this Wall Street hot shot, Hargess Foster Aird – friggin’ Charles Foster Kane more like it! – and that was that. No more records, no more gigs.” Therese grinned at his Citizen Kane reference – it was always about movies with Dannie. “They had this big jet set wedding covered by all the tabloids. But oh, she was some swinging lady – as a matter of fact, Phil once said she swung both ways which was the reason she got married in the first place!” Dannie chuckled at his own joke. “Of course it was just a silly rumor… you know Phil, my big brother, the jerk record producer. He was just learning the ropes at the time Miss Ross disappeared from the scene.”
Dannie looked at the CD and Therese could tell his mind had gone on overdrive. “I’m relatively sure I have some of her recordings here… will you go and check it out while I slip this on?” Therese rushed to the CD shelves and started scanning the alphabetized rows with her fingers. Reeves, Rivers, Ronstadt, Ross… Carolyn! She picked the disc up only to discover that someone had ripped off the cover sleeve. On the back side there was only an elegant silhouette of a woman leaning against a grand piano. The name of the record was Guilty.
“Someone’s taken the cover,” she complained trying not to sound too upset. “Whoever did it I don’t blame him! You could just drown in those eyes of hers…” The goofy dreaminess returned to Dannie’s face only to be replaced by a fresh astonishment after the first bars of Angel Eyes. “My god, this is new stuff!” He practically leapt out of his chair. “Her voice… where’s the business card, where did I put the bloody card?” Therese beamed at his excitement. Her heart was beating fast as she slipped the newfound CD in her jacket pocket.
Dannie made an appointment to meet with Abby Gerhard and the elusive Miss Ross for the next afternoon. As always, Therese spent three hours practicing on the bar’s Steinway trying desperately to put Carolyn Ross out of her mind. For now, at least. She had to concentrate, after all. She thought about Blossom Dearie instead, how she had had the opportunity to meet her couple of years ago when she was still performing in the back room of an obscure seafood restaurant. She hadn’t been just a pretty voice, she’d been a skilled pianist as well, and had had the stamina to charm her audience till the end.
Therese tried out a few chords. Oh, what’s the harm in it, Dannie’ll get a kick out of it anyway. She started singing in her quiet, unassuming voice:
When I was young I lived in a world of dreams
Of moods and myths and illusionary schemes
Though now I'm much more grown up
I fear that I must own up
To the fact that I'm in doubt of
What the modern cynics shout of
They say it's spring
This feeling light as a feather
They say this thing
This magic we share together
Came with the weather too
She was no singer, she knew that very well, but right now it didn’t seem to matter at all.
They say it's May
That's made me daft as a daisy
It's May, they say
That gave the whole world this crazy
Heavenly, hazy hue
I'm a lark
On the wing
I'm the spark of a firefly's fling
Yet to me
This must be
Something more than a seasonal thing
“You sound positively perky.” Dannie was all smiles. “I am, actually.” Therese replied somewhat coyly. She felt happy with no apparent reason which both puzzled and energized her tremendously. Of course it had everything to do with tomorrow, she was no dummy.
Next morning Therese woke up with a sense of excitement. Her dreams had been haunted by a silhouette woman crooning softly into a microphone. She had spent the better part of the previous evening surfing the internet for Carolyn Ross. Richard had come by to see if she’d like to catch a dinner and a movie but she’d said no. After he had left, sulking and morose, she had returned to her Google search activities. Not a single photo anywhere – oh there were plenty of Abby Gerhard escorting her newest discoveries to music industry functions but nothing on the singer she was dying to feast her eyes upon.
At two o’clock the wait was nearly over. Dannie had asked her to be present since she’d been the one to make the connection in the first place. Therese had been more than happy to oblige, it had saved her the embarrassment of asking to be allowed to join this get-together.
At quarter past three she heard Dannie opening the back door. If the doorbell had rung she hadn’t registered it, most likely it hadn’t. Dannie had been nervously pacing the floor since half past two, and Therese had thought better to take her business elsewhere. Suddenly her hands were shaking, her long fingers cold and numb. A shiver went through her, a shiver of something quite inexplicable, and she braced herself for whatever was in store for her in the other room. This is it. She glanced at the mirror. She was quite presentable.
“Well, hello again!” Abby’s cheerful voice carried over the bar room floor. “This is the charming maiden I told you about.” Miss Gerhard was approaching her with another woman right behind her. For a moment Therese could only see a cloud of elegant mink fur, then a vision of an exquisite blonde head emerging from Abby’s shadow. Once Therese saw her immaculate features she could not look away. Their eyes met, and Therese felt as if a sphere out of nowhere had impaled her right there and then leaving her breathless and bleeding. Bleeding joy, happiness and sudden fulfillment of wishes not yet articulated let alone acknowledged.
The woman was in her early forties, she estimated, and she was beyond lovely, beyondthis earth. She felt light-headed, on the verge of fainting. I’m in awe of you, she wanted to utter yet knew better to remain silent, to let her speak first.
“Carol Aird.” The woman smiled warmly quirking her left eyebrow just a little. “Carolyn Ross is my maiden name,” she added extending her gloved hand to Therese. “Pleasure to meet you.” Though Therese was melting inside she tried desperately to maintain her composure. “Therese Belivet. The pleasure’s all mine.”