Unfinished Business

the man would work an eighty-hour week without complaint, Vanessa was fond of him. “How’s the new protégé?”
    “Protégé—? Oh, you mean Francesco. He’s brilliant, really brilliant. Temperamental, of course. Throws things. But then, he’s an artist. He’s going to be playing at the benefit in Cordina.”
    “Princess Gabriella’s benefit? The Aid to Handicapped Children?”
    “Yes.”
    “I’m sure he’ll be wonderful.”
    “Oh, of course. No doubt. Certainly. But, you see, the princess…she’s terribly disappointed that you won’t perform. She asked me—” there was an audible gulp “—personally, if I would persuade you to reconsider.”
    “Frank—”
    “You’d stay at the palace, of course. Incredible place.”
    “Yes, I know. Frank, I haven’t decided if I’m going to perform again.”
    “You know you don’t mean that, Vanessa. With your gift—”
    “Yes, my gift,” she said impatiently. “Isn’t it about time I realized it is mine?”
    He was silent a moment. “I know your father was often insensitive to your personal needs, but that was only because he was so aware of the depth of your talent.”
    “You don’t have to explain him to me, Frank.”
    “No…no, of course I don’t.”
    She let out a long sigh. It wasn’t fair to take out her frustrations on the hapless Frank Margoni, as her father always had. “I understand the position you’re in, Frank, but I’ve already sent my regrets, and a donation, to Princess Gabriella.”
    “I know. That’s why she contacted me. She couldn’t get ahold of you. Of course, I’m not officially your manager, but the princess knew our connection, so…”
    “If I decide to tour again, Frank, I’ll depend on you to manage me.”
    “I appreciate that, Vanessa.” His glum voice brightened perceptibly. “And I realize that you’ve needed some time for yourself. The last few years—grueling, I know. But this benefit is important.” He cleared his throat with three distinct clicks. “And the princess is very stubborn.”
    Reluctantly Vanessa smiled. “Yes, I know.”
    “It’s only one performance,” he continued, sensing a weak spot. “Not even a full concert. You’ll have carte blanche on the material. They’d like you to play two pieces, but even one would make such a tremendous difference. Your name on the program would add so much.” He paused only long enough to suck in a breath. “It’s a very worthy cause.”
    “When is the benefit?”
    “Next month.”
    She cast her eyes to the ceiling. “Next month. It’s practically next month already, Frank.”
    “The third Saturday in June.”
    “Three weeks.” She let out a long breath. “All right, I’ll do it. For you, and for Princess Gabriella.”

    “Vanessa, I can’t tell you how much I—”
    “Please don’t.” She softened the order with a laugh. “It’s only one night.”
    “You can stay in Cordina as long as you like.”
    “One night,” she repeated. “Send me the particulars here. And give my best to Her Highness.”
    “I will, of course. She’ll be thrilled. Everyone will be thrilled. Thank you, Vanessa.”
    “It’s all right, Frank. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
    She hung up and stood silent and still. Odd, but she didn’t feel tensed and keyed up at the thought of a performance. And a huge one, she considered. The theater complex in Cordina was exquisite and enormous.
    What would happen if she clutched in the wings this time? She would get through it somehow. She always had. Perhaps it was fate that she had been called now, when she was teetering on some invisible line. To go forward, or backward, or to stay.
    She would have to make a decision soon, she thought as she walked to the piano. She prayed it would be the right one.
     
    She was playing when Brady returned. He could hear the music, romantic and unfamiliar, flowing through the open windows. There was the hum of bees in the flowers, the purr of a lawn mower, and the music. The magic of it. He saw a woman and a young child standing on the sidewalk, listening.
    She had left the door open for him. He had only to push the screen to be inside. He moved quietly. It seemed he was stepping through the liquid notes.
    She didn’t see him. Her eyes were half-closed. There was a smile on her face, a secret smile. As if whatever images she held in her mind were pouring out through her fingers and onto the keys.

    The music was slow, dreamy, enriched by an underlying passion. He