Chapter 5
The days following Mr. Cutler’s funeral turned out to be some of the hardest days Thomas and I had ever experienced. The boarded-up front window, as well as the broken and marred pianos, were replaced with new ones, but other than that, Thomas sat behind his father’s computer every day hardly saying a word to anyone. Even though my heart was hurting, I did whatever I could to wait on the customers and answer the phone. The ugly yellow tape outside the front door remained a constant reminder of what had happened. It took the police nearly a month to complete their investigation and finally take down that distressing yellow tape.
Two of the depraved bombers had been captured alive and two had been killed in a shootout with the police. Their murderous actions had caused twenty wonderful people, including Mr. Cutler, to die, and hundreds of others to receive serious to life-threating injuries. Most of the people had been visitors who had come to Manhattan for a day of shopping and sightseeing, enjoying a sunny day in New York. They had probably planned to attend a Broadway play that evening, but instead, found themselves in an atmosphere of chaos that had changed their lives forever.
“Thomas,” I called out, “Mrs. Harrison is on the phone and would like you to come tune their grand piano. She said they’re having a party for one of the senators and his wife. Do you think you could do it?”
Thomas looked up at me, and for the first time seemed to hear what I was saying. “Pop would want me to. Tell her I’ll be there.”
As he walked around the small, dark-walnut writing desk and chair, where I’d just hung up the cordless phone, Thomas gazed into my eyes, then hugged me as we both began to cry out from deep within ourselves.
Finally, when the tears stopped flowing, Thomas said, “It’s time to get back to work, Anna Louise. I have to keep my father’s dream alive. My oldest son, Daniel, is in college, but I’m going to talk to him about working part-time here at the store. I believe you met him at the funeral.”
“I did. To me, he looked a lot like his father and grandfather. He’s tall, with the same sparkling blue eyes, and his college-cut dark hair matches yours. I would guess Mr. Cutler’s white hair had once been dark like yours and your son’s.” I smiled for the first time since hearing Mr. Cutler had died.
“Pop’s hair turned white at a young age, even younger than I am. Don’t know if I was the cause, but white is all I remember him being.” The sparkle I’d known before, returned to Thomas’s eyes in that moment.
“I’ll watch the store while you go tune Mrs. Harrison’s piano. The first one will be the hardest, but hopefully each day will get better and better for all of us.”
“I hope so too, Anna Louise. Pop knew what he was doing when he hired you that day.”
“I’m going to make him truly proud, Thomas, by becoming the concert pianist he wanted me to become, and I’m going to play at Carnegie Hall one day just for him.”
“I know he’d love that. And because he believed in you so much, even though you’d never taken a lesson, Beth and I have decided to continue the scholarship program at The School of Musical Arts in memory of both my mother and my father.”
“That’s great news,” I exclaimed. “I can hardly wait to tell Ms. Thompson at my next lesson.”
Thomas grabbed his brown leather bag and headed out the back door.
~ ~ ~
The days at the Emporium did get better. Thomas and I fell into a routine with the help of his son Daniel on the weekends and on those busy afternoons when his father was out tuning a piano. All I’d have to do was text Daniel and he’d come flying in as soon as he could.
“Hi, Daniel.” I smiled and waved as he came in the back door. “We’ll need the big Piano Emporium truck today. That shiny mahogany grand piano over there needs to be delivered to the Goldberg residents approximately twenty miles from here according to the address they gave me. I’ve called Bob and Carl to come in for a few hours to help you.” Bob and Carl were two retired brothers who used to be furniture delivery men. The Emporium was lucky to have them.
“Hey, yourself. I’ll open the double doors of the garage out back and get the truck ready to go. The guys will probably be here by then.”
“Here’s the order and driving instructions you’ll need. Thanks, Daniel.”
All of a sudden, the front door banged open and in popped Mara—and I do mean popped—wheeling luggage with one hand while carrying artwork under her other arm.
“Sorry. Had a hard time opening the door with all this stuff in my arms.” Setting it down, she raced over and hugged me.
“What are you doing here? School isn’t out yet,” I nearly shouted, holding her by the shoulders. I could tell she’d changed a lot since going off to the Art Institute of Chicago. “I love your two-toned hair. Pink and purple suit you.”
“I had to come see you after getting your emails about Mr. Cutler and the bombings. How are you doing?” Mara asked, running her hands through her colorful curls. “My instructors let me test out early so I could come here.”
Daniel cleared his throat behind me.
“Oh. Mara. This is Mr. Cutler’s grandson, Daniel. He’s been helping us out since Mr. Cutler died,” I said with a shaky voice. “Daniel, this is my best friend from high school, Mara Holbrook. She’s an artist, attending college in Chicago, who, as you may have noticed, is never seen without a few of her paintings under one arm. She flies around like the butterflies she sometimes paints.”
“Holbrook. Holbrook. That name rings a bell,” Daniel said out loud.
“Being New York, maybe it’s my brother Blake Holbrook you’ve heard of. He’s attending Julliard and played a solo concert in one of the halls here not long ago.”
“That’s it. Blake Holbrook. He played at my college a few weeks ago. He’s amazing on the piano.” Daniel kept his eyes on Mara as he remarked. “As you can see, I grew up around pianos, but I’d rather be an actor on Broadway these days.”
Bob and Carl rapped on the back door as Daniel continued to stare at Mara. “Oh. Gotta go. A delivery to make.” Daniel grabbed the order and directions that were still in my hand and headed out the back door.
“How long are you staying?” I asked once the men were on their way with the piano.
“Probably through the holidays, if that’s okay with you,” Mara replied, sitting down on one of the round piano stools. “This is quite a place you work in. Right up your alley.”
“I stopped in here to fill out an application for a job and Mr. Cutler interviewed and hired me right on the spot. I’m taking piano lessons, too. I even had my first recital not long ago.”
“I know. You told me. I’m really happy for you, Anna Louise. Bet you’d be good on any one of these pianos.”
“Not sure about that, but Ms. Thompson, my piano teacher, says I play by ear and can play most anything after only hearing it once or twice.” I laughed. “Never did understand all of that music rolling around in my head when we were younger, but I do now.”
“I don’t mean to change the subject, but do you remember your sister is getting married this weekend? Your mom got in touch with my mom, when you wouldn’t answer your phone. Mom then got in touch with me and suggested you at least send a gift home to your sister and Frank.”
“Oh no. Would you like to go shopping with me tonight to do just that? What would I do without you, Mara Holbrook?”
“I’ll go shopping, if you’re buying dinner. I’m pretty much broke, so hope I can sell a few paintings during the holiday season.”
“You’re on. But we have to get my sister’s gift in the mail before we have one bite to eat, okay?”
“Okay. Your apartment sounds horrible, but I’m anxious to meet that good-looking neighbor you’re always talking about.” Mara raised her eyebrows and winked at me.
“Stop it. We’re just friends, but I certainly do enjoy his company. He’s a journalist at the New York Times. Covered the bombings that killed Mr. Cutler. He’s a rookie reporter right now, but dreams of winning a Pulitzer Prize one day.”
“So you’ve told me,” Mara teased, moving her luggage and paintings away from the front door. “By the way, what time does the Emporium close?”
“Five o’clock, but I’ll need to wait until Thomas and Daniel return for the day. Thomas is Daniel’s father. Spitting images of Mr. Cutler, except for Mr. Cutler’s white hair.”
“When do you go for your piano lessons?” Mara inquired. “I hope not today.”
“No, but you’ll have to come with me,” I replied. “They’re every Monday afternoon at five-thirty. You’ll love Ms. Thompson. She might even be able to teach you a thing or two.”
“Fat chance of that, my friend, unless she likes an ‘ants in her pants, always on the move’ kind of gal.”
“Never know,” I responded, hearing the back door open as Thomas walked in with his tuning bag.
“Hi, Anna Louise,” Thomas said, noticing Mara twirling around on one of the piano stools. “Who’s that?” he whispered to me, pointing at Mara.
“Mara. I’d like you to meet my boss, Thomas Cutler. He’s just returned from tuning a piano on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. You know, like in really rich folks.”
“Nice to meet you, Thomas. I surprised Anna Louise this afternoon by showing up with my suitcase and paintings in hand to spend the holidays with her.”
“Was she surprised?” Thomas asked with a grin as he stared at Mara’s hair.
“Shocked is more like it, but I think she’ll survive now.”
“Mara is my best friend from high school and attends the Art Institute of Chicago now, but she has always carried a few of her paintings under one arm for as long as I can remember.”
“Let me see them,” Thomas said.
“You mean it?” Mara replied.
“Sure. This place could use something colorful to brighten it up.” Thomas winked at me as Mara retrieved her paintings.
Displaying two of her paintings for him, Thomas pointed to the one with the bright yellows, oranges, reds, purples, and blues that resembled the sun coming up over the horizon in the early morning. “I like that one he said. Reminds me of Pop. How much is it?”
“Don’t think that one has a price on it. Just want you and Anna Louise to enjoy the colors as you start your day.” Mara passed the painting to Thomas.
“What do you think, Anna Louise? Can we accept this beautiful painting from your friend?” Thomas glanced over at me.
“Like every artist, I’m sure the painting is autographed, so guess we’ll be good advertising for her along the way. Clever, huh?”
“Clever, like my father was. He’d like you, Mara. It was love at first sight between him and Anna Louise.”
Mara was about to tell Thomas how sorry she was about Mr. Cutler, when Daniel and two burly-looking men crashed through the back door, having delivered the grand piano to the Goldberg residence. “Hi, everyone. Here’s the money, Anna Louise.”
“You can give it to your father, Daniel.” I turned to the other two men. “Bob, Carl, this is my best friend from high school, Mara Holbrook. She’s here to spend the holidays with me.”
“Nice to meet you, Mara,” they replied in unison, tipping their caps.
“Nice to meet you guys, too,” Mara said, pretending to tip her cap back at them.
“Daniel, have you met Mara yet?” Thomas asked.
“Earlier, Dad, when I stopped by to get instructions for delivering the piano.”
“Mara’s an artist. Would you be available to show her around the city and maybe SoHo?” Thomas asked, sensing a certain something going on between Mara and Daniel.
“Sure. Being an artist, you’d probably like SoHo,” Daniel said to Mara. “Let me give you my number. You can text me anytime. I still have school for a few weeks before our break begins, but I don’t have any classes on Monday or Friday, so could show you around SoHo on one of those days, if I’m not working here at the store.”
“SoHo. I’d love to see it. Thanks.”
“Time to lock up, kids.” Thomas set Mara’s painting on his desk, then locked the money from the delivery in the safe.
“Hey, what’s with the painting?” Daniel asked, following his dad into the office.
“Donation to the Emporium by the great Mara Holbrook,” Thomas replied. “I’ll hang it tomorrow when it’s not so busy.”
Daniel glanced over at Mara with a beaming smile. “Nice addition to the Emporium.”
“Thanks,” Mara said, blushing like I’d never seen her blush before.
“Come on, Mara,” I interrupted. “We have a gift to buy and send out as soon as possible. Remember?” I hurried into my forest-green wool coat and pulled up the collar, then grabbed Mara’s luggage while she zipped up her brown, soft suede jacket and picked up her paintings as we made our way out the front door. “Follow me. I know a little shop down the street where there are things I know my sister would love for a wedding gift. After the package is in the mail, I’ll take you to this Mexican place that’s so good you’ll never go to Taco Supreme in Wisteria ever again.”
“Try me,” Mara called out as she scurried ahead of me down the street once again. “I’m starving.”
~ ~ ~
As we climbed the stairs leading to my apartment, Mara and I giggled and laughed about the fluffy bedroom slippers I’d bought for Charlotte and Frank—white for her and black for him—when I ran straight into Chase’s strong chest. I stared up at him in shock.
“I’m so sorry, Chase.” I stopped laughing. Hadn’t seen much of him since the bombings and knew he’d been working long hours gathering the names and stories of the victims out there. “I’d like you to meet my best friend from high school, Mara Holbrook. She’s going to be staying with me for the holidays while she’s on break from college.”
Chase stepped back as he took in Mara’s pink and purple hair. “Nice to meet you, Mara. Where’s college for you?”
“The School of the Art Institute of Chicago,” Mara replied with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Your hair suggested to me you were probably an artist.” Chase smiled with his eyes, taking in the paintings under her arm. “Can I see what you’re carrying there?”
“Sure. This one’s for Anna Louise. After hearing the dismal description of her apartment, I thought she could use a little color to brighten it up.” Mara winked at me.
“Take a look at this, Anna. New York’s skyline with a brilliant rainbow draped across the sky, ending with a baby grand piano in a pot of gold.” Chase held the painting up so I could see it better.
“It’s fabulous, Mara. Thank you. You can help me hang it while you’re here.”
Remembering how I’d run smack-dab into Chase when we came in, I asked, “Where were you off to when I bumped into you?”
“I’m working on a story that needs to be finished by tomorrow morning, so I’m off to my desk at the New York Times.”
Chase had changed out of his suit and tie and into jeans, a blue chambray shirt, and his chestnut leather jacket now that it was after hours, but his good looks always caught me off guard. I could tell Mara liked him, too. “Come on Mara. We’d better let this man get his story written. I wouldn’t want him to miss his deadline.” I smiled up at Chase.
As he handed the painting back to Mara, he grinned. “Glad I ran into you ladies. See you later.” Off he went, taking the steps down two at a time, the door slamming behind him.
“That’s your neighbor,” Mara exclaimed.
“That’s him. Told you he was handsome. He’s also a nice guy.”
“I noticed. I also noticed how the two of you are together. He’s a keeper, Ann Louise. Hang on to him.”
“We’re just friends, Mara. He’s my neighbor. We run into one another off and on.”
“I’d make it more on than off, if I were you. Also, he called you Anna, which no one ever has. What’s with that?”
“He called me that in the haze of the bombings. Everything was crazy at the time,” I replied, recalling the phone conversation in which he had first called me Anna and the warm feeling that had come over me. “Let’s go inside, so you can finally put your things down. We’re getting a little old to sleep in the same bed, but the sofa is out of the question. Full of lumps and bumps.”
“I promise to stay on my side, if you’ll stay on yours.” Mara laughed as she followed me into the bedroom.
“Let’s get your things hung up, then we can sit at the kitchen table, if you can call it that, and talk for a while. I’ll brew us some sweet mint tea to sip on while we talk.”
“Sounds good to me,” Mara replied, opening her suitcase that now lay on Anna Louise’s bed.
We talked for hours just like we had in high school. Around midnight we heard Chase come in and his door open and close for the night. “Maybe we’d better think about turning in ourselves,” I said to Mara. “I have to go to work in the morning, but when you finally pull yourself out of bed, you can get settled, then find your way to the Emporium again.”
“Will do. I enjoyed meeting everyone at the Emporium this afternoon. And Chase this evening. From what has happened so far, I can hardly wait to see what the rest of New York has to offer,” Mara said, as she stood up and stretched, touching her toes. “Daniel said he’d take me to SoHo and show me where the artists hang out, and then I can do some shopping in the boutiques I’ve heard about. Can’t wait.”
“I’d welcome you to New York, my friend, but it sounds like you’ve already made yourself at home.” I hugged her. “I’m so glad you’re here, Mara.”