Brett 10
It takes three curtain calls and two encores for the audience to finally clear the hall. This has been one long day, and I’m looking forward to a late night date involving a stiff drink from the minibar, phone sex with Maggie and a good night’s sleep. I’ve just gotten my viola packed up and am getting ready to go grab my things from the dressing room when I hear my name from somewhere close by.
“Brett!”
Holy. Fuck. It can’t be …can it?
The voice is unmistakable. And frighteningly out of context. I turn around and, sure enough, I see my mother making her way backstage. Behind her are Aunt Elise and a short brunette who must be her partner, Dianne.
“Mom? What’re you doing here?”
“Your Aunt Elise and Dianne surprised me with tickets for your concert. Did you know they only live about twenty minutes from here? Oh, Honey, it was beautiful,” she gushes. “I wish your father could have heard you play with the Walton Quartet. He was so proud of you.” She steps close to me and puts a hand on the lapel of my tuxedo, patting it gently. As she looks up into my eyes, I can see she’s holding back tears.
I put my shock aside for the moment and pull her close to me. For once, I am the soother of nerves, the dispeller of fears and the giver of confidence that all will be right in the world. She allows me to hold her like that for a long moment before disentangling herself and pulling a tissue out of her purse so she can dab at her damp eyes.
“Brett, this is my Dianne,” Elise introduces us, stepping forward with her arm around the brunette’s shoulders.
I extend a hand to Dianne but she grabs me and hugs me.
“Oh, you! I’ve seen you perform more times than I can count,” she informs me with a squeeze that knocks the wind out of me. I think she might just have cracked a rib.
“Uh, really?” I’m not quite sure what to say to that. It sounds a little stalker-ish, actually. I guess Elise gets that feeling too, because she jumps in to elaborate.
“Over the years, we tried to see you whenever you were playing in town. We’ve seen you with your high school orchestra, with the McInnes Conservatory Orchestra and we even went to New York when you gave your senior recital.”
“Wow, I had no idea. I wish I’d known. I would have liked to reunite with you a little sooner.”
“Well, we’re here now!” Dianne exclaims happily. “And, my dear, that young lady of yours, Maggie, what a doll! We’ve already made her promise that the two of you will come spend a little time with us over the summer.”
Of course they love Maggie. Everyone loves Maggie. That is, with the notable exception of my brother.
“Well, I hope you all enjoyed the concert,” I say, hoping they’ll take the hint and head home.
They don’t.
“Brett, it was amazing. Absolutely beautiful!” exclaims Elise. “Oh, that piece, the trio, it was just mesmerizing!”
“I know,” I smile. “I love to stand in the wings and watch them play it.”
“That pretty little cellist is just superb,” Dianne marvels. “I love the cello. Could we meet her? In fact, I’d love to meet all of your colleagues!”
No fucking way. Not a snowball’s chance in hell I’m letting them get within a hundred feet of Julia.
“You know what, I think they’ve probably all headed back to the hotel by now. Why don’t you ladies just let me grab my viola and we can go get a bite to eat, okay? I’ll come and meet you out front in five minutes.”
I’m already turning away from them when my mother starts to follow.
“Nonsense, Brett. You haven’t been off the stage more than five minutes. I’m sure they must be back there somewhere, and who knows when I’ll have this opportunity again? We’ll go with you.”
I guess hell just got a cold snap. I know better than to argue with Trudy Corrigan about anything. Ever. I lead them out of the backstage area to the long hallway with the dressing rooms, holding my breath that no one is hanging around. Meeting Joe and Phil and Ingo is one thing. Meeting Julia is another.
“You know, Mom, it really is possible they’ve left already. We all like to get out as soon as we can after a performance,” I warn her, slowing down considerably, in hopes that this will actually be the case by the time we get there.
But Trudy knows me too well.
“I’m quite sure they will be gone if you keep moving at a snail’s pace, Brett,” she quips as her heels click behind me down the hallway.
When we get to Joe’s door, I rap gently, praying he’ll keep them busy while I slip down the hall to Julia’s dressing room.
“Come in!” he calls from inside.
We do.
“Hey, Joe, have you got a sec? My family decided to surprise me tonight and they’d like to meet you.”
He smiles broadly. Joe loves to play host.
“Hello! I’m Joe Dancy. I play violin.”
“We noticed!” Aunt Elise replies enthusiastically. They make their introductions and I inch closer to the door.
“Joe, I was just telling my mom how we like to get out of here fast after a concert. And that it’s entirely possible the rest of the group has already …”
My sentence is interrupted by a high-pitched shriek from the hallway. It’s followed by a small, mischievous laugh. That is followed by the sound of someone running in heels. There isn’t even time to close the door before the tiny, redheaded tornado comes flying in and crashes into my legs.
“Unca!”
“Oh, my! Who’s this?” my mother coos, slipping into kindergarten teacher mode.
Before I can say anything, she’s squatting down to see him at eye level as he clings to my leg like a koala bear in a eucalyptus tree. He’s being coy, hiding his face from her. Thankfully. Now, if I can just get him to stay this way … It’s a possibility … until I hear Julia.
“David Matthew Ayers! You come back here this instant! You know better than to run away from mommy!” she’s chiding him before she’s even in the room with me. And with her son. And my mother. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck!
I watch helplessly as the rest of it unfolds in slow motion. David turns around at the sound of Julia’s voice, but ends up running right into my mother, who is still squatting down. Instinctively, she scoops him up, and starts to return the wayward toddler to his mother. Please, God. Please. Please. Please.
But apparently God isn’t taking requests tonight. At least, not from me.
Julia doesn’t realize who it is that’s holding her child. She’s not the least bit alarmed by the middle-aged woman with the kind eyes and the teacherly voice. Why should she be? David throws back his head and giggles as my mother stands up with him in her arms, bouncing him the whole way. It isn’t until she is fully upright again that I see the briefest flicker of recognition cross her face.
“Unca!” David cries and stretches his arms toward me. He’s squirming so hard to get to me that my mother passes him my way before he can jump right out of her hands. “Unca!” he repeats, patting the sides of my face with his hands. And then he twists around, so that he and I are both facing the same way, looking at my mother, side by side.
A dark cloud passes across my mother’s face, and her eyes turn hard and withering. Oh, shit. I know this expression well, but this is the first time it’s ever been leveled at me. This is the stare she saves for my brother.
The chill that settles on the room is so palpable that Joe decides this would be a good time to excuse himself. He holds out his arms toward David and puts a big smile on his face for the boy.
“Hey, David, buddy! Let’s go find Nata!”
“Nata!” David parrots, blissfully unaware of the Pandora’s Box he’s just kicked open with his tiny high top sneakers.
“Really, Brett?” Mom hisses once they’ve gone. “Is that what you were trying to keep us from seeing?” she demands, pointing to the door through which Joe and David have just left.
“I’m sorry,” Julia breaks in quietly, “but I don’t think I understand what’s happening here.”
“Julia, this is …”
“I’m his mother,” my mother cuts back in with an off-handed gesture towards me.
Julia is frowning, her lips parted in a questioning ‘O’. When it dawns on her what has just happened, her eyebrows shoot up into an alarmed arch.
“And, if I’m not mistaken,” my mother continues, “that little boy’s grandmother.”
She’s staring at me, Julia’s staring at her and I’m staring at Julia.
“Does Maggie know?”
“Does Maggie know what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Brett. You’re engaged to be married. Does your fiancée know you have a child with another woman? A woman who you’re clearly still involved with?”
Now, she’s dividing her glare between me and a dumbfounded Julia.
“What?” What’re you talking about, Mom?”
“You cannot, for a single second, have thought that I wouldn’t recognize that little boy as a Corrigan.”
Holy shit. Now I get it, and before I can help myself, I start to laugh. Not a short burst of laughter, either. This is that irrational, near hysterical laughter that consumes you when you realize you have stepped into a cluster fuck of epic proportions.
“You think this is funny?” she spits at me.
I nod, tears streaming down my face, even as her face grows redder with rage.
“Brett! That is quite enough!”
Behind her, Elise and Dianne are wide-eyed. I guess they’re getting more of a show than they bargained for. The thought of it sets me off again. I try to catch my breath and swipe at my wet face with the back of my sleeve.
“Oh, oh my God!” I gasp, trying to get myself under control.
Finally, I manage to quash the unruly cackling and I will myself to look my mother square in the eye.
“He’s not my son, Mom,” I insist with as straight a face as I can muster.
She’s just about to lay into me, raising her index finger to poke me, the way she does when she’s furious. Exactly the same way that Grandma Ruth did. But then she stops. She realizes what it is that I’m trying to tell her, and now it’s her turn to look stunned. Finally, she turns her attention to Julia, who looks as if she’d give anything to be crushed by a rogue asteroid at this very moment.
My mother’s tone softens considerably. “He’s yours and …Jeremy’s?”
Tears have started to slip down Julia’s face, too, but hers are definitely not tears of laughter. My mother pushes me aside gently and moves to stand in front of Julia. It’s quite an extraordinary sight as Trudy uses her thumbs to wipe the tears from Julia’s freckled face, the way that she did for me when I was a child. Then she opens her arms and pulls Julia into her.
“Shhhh. It’s alright,” I hear my mother murmur in her ear as Julia heaves with silent sobs. “It’s alright, Dear. It’s all going to be just fine.”