Page 6 of All The Wrong Notes
He looked to the side. “Once.”
Once?
“Now I think I should see what Carlos had to ask me earlier.” And he stalked off, leaving Elise gaping after him.
Prat!
* * *
Will said his goodbyes and slunk out of the little garden. That hadn’t gone too badly. Had it? She wanted a discussion, a debate. She was fiery enough that platitudes would just earn her disdain, and so he answered her with, perhaps, a bit more extreme perspective than reflected his real opinions. It was so refreshing to meet someone who engaged with him as a person, not as a bank account, who didn’t just nod and agree in an attempt to ingratiate themselves with him. He hoped to encourage her. But she hadn’t seemed pleased with him, and didn’t seem to want a healthy discussion as much as an argument.
Oh, damn, had he done it again?
Don’t say anything, and people think you’re arrogant. Say the least amount possible, and you’re a cold fish. Say a lot, and make people angry. How he envied Carlos’ easy ways. He was so friendly and outgoing, people forgot about his own personal wealth and just gravitated to the guy himself.
Will got into his car and sent a quick text to his friend explaining his early departure, asking him to apologise to Janet. She really was a nice person, and he was pleased that Carlos had met her. Carlos had always had some woman or another hanging around him, but this time it seemed different, and if Carlos was happy, then Will was happy for him.
Perhaps there was something he could do for the couple. Something that might also warm Elise to him a bit. He didn’t need her to be his new best friend—although that did have its appeal—but he would very much like to be able to talk to her and enjoy her insights and wit in some sort of companionship. If Carlos and Janet stayed together, he would be seeing a lot of Elise, and it would be so much better to be on a friendly footing.
He had a goal. Now all he had to do was think about how to bring it to fruition.
CHAPTER 3
THE CHOIR
It was not long after the garden gathering that these social events slowed to a trickle, for the end of summer marked the beginning of the new school year and musical season. Janet taught Industrial Design at a community college, and her classes were soon to start again. Carlos, too, mentioned that his free time would soon be curtailed, since he was picking up a series of new projects at work, having spent a couple of months settling into his new job and learning the ropes. Elise knew she would be busy at work as well.
Her job was more than a job. It was her pride and joy. She had worked long and hard, and had created something from nothing to serve art lovers and less fortunate kids alike, and she was immensely proud of the Queen City Arts Centre. In the summer, it was home to a series of summer camps, with a number of spaces open to children whose families couldn’t otherwise afford such things. There were general arts programs for children interested in a little bit of everything, as well as more focused sessions for kids wanting to concentrate on music, drama, or visual art. They all came together for group activities and sports, as well as for lunch and snacks, and in the three years it had been running, it had become a remarkable success.
The whole endeavour was a non-profit organisation, with a focus on providing quality arts education to disadvantaged children. The income from renting out spaces during the day went back into programming, and three hundred kids whose parents couldn’t afford it otherwise now had art, drama, and music classes. Some of the instructors volunteered their time; others helped with fundraising efforts and applying for sponsorships and grants. It was the very best use of her MBA that Elise could imagine. She didn’t have a fancy house and didn’t have an expensive car, but she had enough, and she felt like she was doing something useful.
Now, with the last days of August, the summer camps were winding up, and Elise would need to be there more often as everyone settled into a regular fall schedule. Unlike the camps, where one group of kids and counsellors came and spent all day, every day, now there would be a succession of people coming and going through the doors, from morning to night. Pre-work yoga sessions and Mommy-and-me classes in the mornings, Tot Time programming before lunch, seniors’ fitness classes and adult music lessons in the afternoons, and after-school art and music classes for kids old enough to get themselves there when the final bell had rung. Then, in the evening, more art classes for older teens and adults, string quartets and small jazz combos, and once a week, in the large hall, her choir. The Eglinton Echoes.
Of all these, it was the choir that Elise looked forward to the most. She had created the Queen City Arts Centre because the arts were her passion, and of all of them, singing was her favourite. She was never so happy as when she could let the tune in her heart swell in her body and pour it out in vocalised melody. Making music with friends, letting their individual voices combine into something so much greater than the sum of the parts—well, that was magic. When her choir had been seeking a permanent home for rehearsals a couple of years back, she had mentioned the large space at her arts centre, and it was a match made in musical heaven.
Choir rehearsals were on Thursday nights—Choir Night in Canada, so the joke went—and Elise couldn’t wait for the new season to start. The first rehearsal was scheduled for two weeks after Labour Day, the long weekend at the beginning of September that marked the end of summer and the beginning of the serious stuff, and from the emails sent out from the music director, the Echoes would perform five concerts during the season. The music all sounded wonderful, and when the evening of the first rehearsal finally arrived, Elise could hardly contain her excitement.
She had stayed in her office after the normal work day had ended, finishing up some projects and taking care of a few emails, and walked to the rehearsal space early to help Rob set up the room. There wasn’t a lot to be done, but he was a friendly guy, and she enjoyed chatting to him. Rob was no singer, but his sister was in the choir, and he loved music, so doing stagehand and tech stuff was his way of being involved. His cheerful grin certainly went a long way to making rehearsals such wonderful experiences.
The next to arrive was Randall, the choir director. His open expression belied his insistence on musical perfection, and it was under his guidance that the Echoes had become a musical phenomenon in the city. They weren’t the premier concert choir that often performed with the symphony, but they were just as good. There was a twinkle in Randall’s eye tonight, and Elise suspected it had nothing to do with rehearsal or music. She would have to talk to him later. Gordon, their accompanist and sometimes fellow performer, bustled in shortly after Randall, a large worn leather satchel tucked under one arm. He was a civil engineer by day, and this was how he kept up his musical chops, so he said.
One by one, the familiar choir members drifted in, and Elise greeted them all as they entered. She waved at Emma, all self-assured and fashionable, then to Ashleigh, with her quiet smile, then Kevin, Masako, John, Rohan. Soon the room was abuzz with excited voices as everyone hugged each other and caught up on the events of the summer. And, just before rehearsal was to start, Janet and Carlos strode in, a handsome couple if ever Elise had seen one. Randall noticed them and went to shake Carlos’ hand before calling the choir to attention.
In a moment they had all found their spots and cleared their throats, ready to begin.
“Welcome back, everyone,” Randall greeted them from where he had his music stand set up in the centre of the space. “It’s a real joy to see my favourite faces again. A couple of items before we start. First of all, I am delighted to announce I got married this past summer. Some of you have met Taylor already. If you haven’t, you’ll get to know him soon.”
This was met by a round of congratulations and a delighted squeal from the soprano section, which Randall met with a wink before he went on.
“We have a few new faces as well this year. I’ve heard these people sing, and you’ll be as impressed with their voices and musicality as I was. In the sopranos, meet Halli.”
A very pretty, very young woman with night-black skin and bright eyes gave a shy smile and tentative wave before slinking back behind the person beside her.
“Katarina is joining us in the alto section, and in the tenors, please welcome Carlos.”
Both gave small waves as everyone called out greetings.
“Finally, we will have an additional member of the bassi as well, but not until the next concert. Now, if you please, Gordon?” He turned to the pianist, who sounded a chord, and the evening’s warm-up exercises began.