Chapter 14

It had certainly been one busy day. I was ready to drop. After we had changed, though, we had a message that there was a private party that we were required to join. It turned out to be in one of the larger staterooms which Kelly had taken for the night.

We arrived at polite applause, and we found ourselves in the room with many of today’s orchestra, Kelly, and the conductor (Richard – call me Rick). We were joined a little later by Allan, who wondered who had invited him. We introduced him to Kelly, and she took over making us very welcome with plates of finger food and a range of drinks.

Rick was very interested in our songs and surprised that we had written nearly all of them with the notable cover being the final one. He said it had been the best version of that he’d heard. The song is a favorite, even among classical violinists with a young outlook.

Kelly was more interested with the early part of the show. I told her that Pet had written some, while Josie, no longer with the band, had been involved with me, for others. She was referred to our Stable Sisters albums for further listening.

Pet and I didn’t last very long, before we had to make our excuses and head off to bed, leaving as Kelly and Allan got together.

On the way to our rooms Pet stopped. “I think today proved to be something we may look back on as a critical moment. That orchestra would have been good to play in. I think we’ll be doing so, again, sometime.”

In the morning, we had our breakfast and checked out. A small bus with a trailer took us and our instruments to the airport. The dressers and make-up girl joined us for the return trip.

I sat with Pet. We talked about playing the classics. We both had been caught up in the moment as we played with the orchestra. Pet was having second thoughts about passing on their offer to play. I assured her that if she did decide to play with them, it would be from a different perspective.

I took all our instruments back to the farm with me in the van. We were due to have a session later in the week to go over new songs. Back home I was able to take my baby in my arms and stroll around, taking her to see the chickens, which she loved more than I did.

Doris took the opportunity to go home for a few hours. She took my car to collect a few things she had forgotten. I stood in the middle of the parking area and looked around me.

On the back lot we had furrows with a few different types of potato planted. The packing shed looked the same. One of the old chicken sheds now looked very clean and freshly painted.

The stable had the extra studio addition, and the house had the big extension where I had thought I would find love and happiness, but had only found rejection and sorrow. I held, in my arms, the huge exception -- the one reason to keep going, my baby Alicia.

I looked over at the stable and remembered when Dad and I had constructed the original studio. I must have been about eight at the time. It had been a refuge for me with my first true love, my music. I didn’t consider myself a good player, then. I just played along with songs on whatever came to hand.

I used the old upright that Dad had rescued from the junior high school, my guitar, and then the violin that I had suddenly decided I wanted to learn. Everything I did was from books, the internet, and just playing for hours.

I understood more, now. I had been shy and withdrawn. Ashamed of my shape, I had found solace in my playing. I shunned socializing. In my mid-teens, I had read an article about a savant who was a brilliant mathematician. It was hard to accept but I had come to realize that I might also be on the spectrum. It might also explain my talent and my memory for music. Also, my single-mindedness!

I was now in a good group, writing new music, and had remarkably played a concert grand in front of a proper orchestra, even if it was a casual and private performance.

I had gone from being an oddly shaped and shy boy to a well-figured and outward girl. I had moved from a virgin to a seasoned lover, to a father, and now back to a virgin again.

I giggled when that thought came to me because you would never consider a dilator as a lover. I had to start thinking about new directions for Ali and me.

If the Pixies stayed as a five-piece, it would be easier to concentrate more on the Sisters style of music. Without Donna and Josie around to push the country rock, we might be able to move in that direction.

When I thought of Josie, it was now without grief. The months of separation -- even when we were in the same room together -- had driven the love down to a low place in my heart.

Her leaving was, I now realized, inevitable given her sexual needs. At least it had happened without arguments and things being thrown. On Monday, I found out roughly where she was. Allan came around to tell me about the situation regarding Boston. But first, he revealed that he’d heard from an agent in Los Angeles. The agent had been approached to add a new band to his talent list, called Josie and the Ramrods.

Allan said the guy knew that Josie had been a Pixie. He contacted Allan to ask what he should do. Allan told him that Josie, by leaving the Pixies and joining another band, had voided her contract with him.

That’s when I found out, that among the slightly smaller print on the paperwork we had signed, was a clause that stated that if you went to another band, your contract became voided, and your income stream stopped. That meant that Josie was on her own with just whatever money she had put aside -- unlike Donna and Janet who were still getting their portions of the income.

As far as Boston went, he told me that he and Kelly had a very good talk, both at the party and also at her home the next day before he flew home. The upshot was that Pet, and I were provisionally booked to go to Boston for two weeks for rehearsals and the two shows.

Allan was very upbeat about it, saying that it would be good, not only for our reputation, but also for the Pixies as a whole.

“Maybe not so much the Pixies by then, perhaps more Stable Sisters,” I answered.

He smiled, “So much the better, I think.”

My parents came home on Tuesday from their cruise along the Keys with a tan and a bag of plastic keepsakes. They were, of course, surprised to find the house with no Josie, me back out in the stable, and a full-time nanny who Mom remembered fondly from the old days.

It took a while to explain how it all came about and a lot longer to tell them about my weekend. Dad laughed at my description of playing a concert grand as being “better than sex.”

Mom just held me close and said that she couldn’t be prouder of me than she was now. They both nearly smothered Ali with hugs and kisses.

Wednesday morning, we were having breakfast when the landline rang. Dad went off to answer. I heard a muffled “She what!!” and another short conversation.

He came back into the kitchen, where I was giving Ali her bottle, looking shocked.

“What’s wrong, love?” Mom asked.

He looked at me. “Edie, when you have done feeding Ali, go and pack for a week away. That was Allan on the phone. He said he had a call from some lady, or something, who wants you in Boston today. It appears that her soloist has called in sick, and she needs your help. Allan is coming by in an hour and you both have a flight after lunch, which, he says, is on him.”

I sat there, stunned.

Mom asked, “What’s this all about, love?”

“Mom, the orchestra is playing on Friday and Saturday night. The soloist is a pianist, booked to play the Warsaw Concerto and the Number One. They are the pieces I played while I was there Saturday morning to help them out. I expect that tomorrow and Friday I will be running through it again with them. This time, though, I’ll also play for an audience in two classical concerts, Friday, and Saturday.”

“Oh, my! This I’ve got to see. Bill, get on that phone and get us on a plane to Boston Friday, with a hotel room Friday and Saturday nights. Then ring the hall there and get us two seats. Make sure you tell them it’s for the soloists’ parents. Now, give Doris the baby and get moving, girl. Your public is waiting!”

I packed a good size bag with a few of my favorite dresses, a few skirts and tops, shoes, and enough lingerie to last a week, or more. I left the bag outside the stable, found the key to the van and gave it to Dad, telling him that our instruments were still in it.

Allan arrived and loaded my case. He told my folks that Helen would be staying at the hotel, flying in on Thursday evening. Dad said that he had booked the flight and hotel.

Allan told him that the seating was all arranged. I could see that he was excited and, as we drove away, I asked, “You seem happy, today, what’s up?”

He laughed. “In all my years looking after performers I’ve never had a concert pianist before. I called up a friend of mine who does that sort of thing and asked him how they are treated. He said, ‘Like jewels, Allan, good ones are few and far between. If you have one of those it’s first class all the way.’ So, we’re flying first class and staying first class, a few floors above where you stayed on the weekend. I’ve spoken to Kelly about your fee and her offer staggered even me.”

We went via Pet’s home where she was waiting with her bag. I didn’t say anything until she was loaded, and we were on the way again. “Good to see you, Pet, but why are you here?”

Pet shrugged her shoulders. “Ask Allan. All I know is that he called and told me to be ready for a rush trip and pack for a week.”

Allan grinned. “I’ve called the other girls and told them that something came up. I rescheduled the next session to the end of next week. To answer your question, our Edie has been called on to take the place of the soloist in Boston. Kelly told me that she wanted you there as well. Other than Edie playing piano, I’m in the dark myself.”

Pet gave a little squeal and told me that it was a dream of hers to be a soloist and I was one lucky girl to get on stage with the orchestra.

Allan stopped at a restaurant and bought us lunch and we spoke about what was in store.

We got to the airport and experienced valet service all the way, until we were in the plane. In the air, I asked Pet about what she would be called if she was playing classics, “Pet” being a bit too jazzy for that market.

“I never use my surname because I come from a French-Canadian background and the family name was Fleur. My grandfather changed it to Flower when he came south. My parents did me no kindness when they called me Petunia. But, there again, they were heavily into the flower power era when they got together. I suppose my name isn’t as bad as my three sisters, Lilac, Hippeastrum and Gazania. Lilac is happy with it but Hippy and Gaz changed theirs as soon as they were able.”

I chuckled and told her how I was lumbered with the nickname ‘Egg,’ and she said that Grosse was also French. She asked if I had any relatives in Grosse Pointe. I had to remind her that Grosse Pointe wasn’t named after anyone in particular but just because it was a big bit of land sticking out into the lake.

In Boston, we were greeted by Geoffrey as we got our bags. He took us to the hotel where we were all booked into the penthouse suites. When we went down for dinner, we were shown to a table which had been reserved.

The other chairs were empty. Our waitress told us that the booking was set for dinner in a half an hour. We were welcome to use the bar prior to that with all drinks being billed to the table. We went and had soft drinks for Pet and me, while Allan had a beer. We still had no idea of why Pet had been invited -- but I knew her presence helped me keep the butterflies at bay.

We saw Kelly and Richard come in and went to greet them. Kelly thanked us for coming at such short notice. Rick was a little cagey. It appeared that he wasn’t sure that what Kelly had in mind was such a good idea.

We were joined by the orchestra principals, the first violin, first viola, Antonio -- the first cello, and the percussion and brass leaders. The meal was good, the conversation lively, and the drinks plentiful if you wanted them. We spoke about our show the weekend before, about the planned series for the next year, and anecdotes about funny things that had happened in the past.

By the end of it we still had no idea of what was planned. Kelly told us that we would be picked up in the morning, after breakfast, to be taken to the hall, and then gave us a wink.

We went off to bed early and I had a really refreshing rest after calling home to make sure that Ali was OK with me away. In the morning we were picked up by Geoffrey, and he took us to the hall. The rest of the orchestra strolled in after we arrived, many giving us waves. They looked happy to see us. In the hall, we were shown to the front row of the stalls and the rest of the orchestra came down and sat in the first few rows. By their behaviour I expected that this was a normal thing, perhaps to get instructions from the conductor. Kelly walked onto the stage with Rick, and everyone became quiet.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and distinguished guests,” she said to gentle tittering. “Today we’ll work on a pair of concerts like no other that we have attempted. Friday night is our one night of the year when only subscribers are in the audience. I’m happy to say that we are almost booked out. Saturday is also nearly fully booked with some subscribers as well as general single concert purchasers. As such, I’ve decided that the two concerts will not be identical, as we would usually play them. No, I think that this week we will give the subscribers something extra for their support with a one-off concert that will be different to the advertised one, which we will do on Saturday.”

She looked around and the orchestra was on the edge of their seats, knowing that what she was about to reveal may bomb or be the hit of the season. Kelly then continued, “After the shock of hearing that our pianist had pulled out, we’ve been lucky enough to gain the talented Miss Edweena Grosse who did so well playing for us before going on stage across town, and absolutely wowing a vocal crowd. I’m just glad that our audiences have more decorum.”

Her joke drew muted laughter. “She’ll play the Warsaw and the Number One as the second half of both nights. I thank her in advance for her input.”

The orchestra applauded lightly. “Last Saturday, we also heard the violin playing of Miss Grosse and Miss Flower. I’ve decided that we’ll go ahead with our advertised first half on Saturday. But on Friday night, we’ll have Miss Flower on stage as a soloist.”

She looked over at Pet. “Would you be happy with the Lark Ascending, my dear?”

Pet smiled and nodded.

“Also” Kelly continued. “I’ve heard our two soloists play a rendering of a Paganini piece which sounds quite remarkable, the way they did it. Would the two of you be happy to perform that for us on Friday evening?”

Pet looked at me and I nodded. She said that we’d be happy to.

Richard then stepped in. “I’m not sure about this yet and Friday may revert back to what we originally planned, if the performances aren’t to my standard.”

So that’s what he was worried about. Pet looked at me and winked. We both smiled. We’ll show him that the Pixies never turn in a bad performance.

Kelly then said. “Thank you for your attention. Today we’ll work through the Friday night performance for as long as it takes, lunch will be provided. Friday we’ll do the two first halves and the second half in full dress. Dinner will be supplied before the show starts. Right! Let’s get working.”

Everyone left the stalls and made their way to their places and started setting up their instruments.

Kelly came over to us. “I hope I haven’t put you in it, girls. We have a conductor who can be quite anal at times. There’ll be a short opening piece before you go on. These guys have done it dozens of times so it shouldn’t need any work. Most of the day it will be about the two of you versus Rick -- and I hope you win.”

We stayed seated while the orchestra got ready, and then played the first piece for both nights. I had taken a quick look at the posters when we arrived, so I knew that the two concerts were billed as “Classical Favorites” so wasn’t surprised that the opening piece was Dance of the Swans from Swan Lake.

The piece lasted less than ten minutes. It was well enough known for the audience to be comfortable with it. The second piece that Kelly had planned was The Lark Ascending and it usually ran for about a quarter of an hour. Pet had a stand with the sheet music and was given the violin she had played previously.

I sat entranced as the rehearsal went on. She was hesitant at first, for a first try as a soloist. Rick, now in Maestro mode, demanded a second run-through, and then a third, with her playing it from memory, before he was smiling.

The fourth item for the first half was Danse Macabre and I was called up. We did the first run with the music in front of us. Standing in front of a full orchestra with Pet and playing it became one of the highlights of my life.

Richard, the tyrant, needed three more tries before he declared it ready to go.

Kelly asked us if we could do the Paganini without needing the music, so everyone else sat back while we let it rip.

Even Richard stood open-mouthed when we finished, and the orchestra applauded. That took us to a late lunch and the mood was much more up-beat as everyone smiled and made comments of how we were going to blow the audience away.

In the afternoon, the orchestra did the expected second part of the first half which they would play on Saturday, as advertised. It was the Serenade for Strings by Dvorak and well suited to the rest of the program.

After that the concert grand was rolled onto the stage and we did the Warsaw twice and then the Number One before Richard and Kelly called it a day and congratulated everyone, turning to us with a smile.

Allan had sat through it all in silence but was effusive once we left in the car. He told us that he was being opened up to a whole new world and looked forward to seeing where it all went.

That night we were joined by Helen for an enjoyable dinner. Allan told me that our dress supplier had gone “over the top” with our outfits and that we both had three dresses. One for the Friday rehearsal, the second for the Friday performance, and the third for the Saturday one.

Pet argued, “But I won’t need one Saturday.”

Allan laughed. “In the short time I’ve known Kelly, I’ve realized that she doesn’t let any opportunity pass her by. Expect her to ask you to play something Saturday, even if it’s the Paganini as an encore. By the way, Edie, do you have something for an encore?”

I said that there were many of the etudes I could play. Maybe tomorrow Richard would suggest something. So far, he’d acted as if one may not be called for.

Both Pet and I were a little “hyper” so Helen gave us both a couple of acetominophin tablets to help us sleep.

We were bright and smiling at breakfast. One of our dressers got us into the rehearsal dresses. They were sumptuous, and she helped us get made up and bejeweled.

When Geoffrey came for the five of us, we were being photographed. Our dresser thought it was a hoot and posed a bit.

I told her, “Don’t do that; it only encourages them,” and then posed a bit myself.

At the hall we were taken in through the back way into the dressing rooms. Kelly came in, “There’s a small contingent from the press that we usually let in for the dress rehearsal. We don’t allow photos during the actual performance.”

“Today we’ll do the Friday show in real time first, with all the introductions.” When she left, she took Allan, Helen, and our dresser to lead them to the stalls.

The backstage PA came to life and a voice instructed the orchestra to take the stage. A guy knocked on our door and came in to turn on a TV screen that showed the full stage from a camera that may have been slung under the balcony. The speaker then switched to the microphones on stage. He told us that the show was being recorded by the local classics station for later broadcast.

We sat quietly and watched the tune-up. Kelly came on stage and told the small audience that the concert would not be as advertised, but she hoped they enjoyed the music.

Richard then came on stage, with the orchestra standing, and took his place on the rostrum. When they moved into the Dance of the Swans our companion asked Pet to follow him. I gave her a hug and told her she would be great. She went off to wait for her debut performance in front of the press. When the orchestra finished the first piece, they all stood and bowed behind the conductor, who was bowing as well.

Kelly came back on stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we’ll depart from the program slightly. You, our wonderful subscribers, are in for a rare treat. Some of you may have been, like me, at the Pixies’ concert last week and listened to two of the best violin players outside an orchestra. Tonight, we bring you one of those fine ladies, please welcome Miss Petunia Flower to our stage.”

Richard had moved to the side of the stage and came back into the center with Pet. He went to the rostrum and a tuning note sounded. Pet checked her violin and made sure it was comfortably tucked under her chin. The orchestra and Pet then played the Lark.

I was unhappy to be pulled away from the screen to be led up to the wings and given a violin. I quietly checked it for tune.

Pet and the orchestra finished the Lark and took their bows and Kelly came back on stage to say, “How was that, ladies, and gentlemen? We nearly had Petunia with us a year or more ago, but she decided to stay with the Pixies and she’s much better for it. So, you have seen one Pixie here -- so we thought that we should give you the other marvelous violinist from that line-up. Please welcome Miss Edweena Grosse to Boston, again.”

Marianne Gregory © 2022