“This is one of the sweetest things I’ve ever seen anyone do,” I told her and the other students at the table. “Thank you. He’s going to be so happy.”
And he was.
Felix and Scarlet arrived with the rest of the audience. Before I needed to be with the band, I quickly brought him over to the fundraiser table to show him.
“How lovely,” he said, looking over the treats.
“It’s for you,” I replied.
“What?” He looked at me and then at the students.
I pointed to the sign, and when Felix read it, he pressed a hand to his mouth.
“They organized it themselves. I had no idea,” I swore.
The FHA students all smiled happily, and one offered Felix a tissue. He accepted it and wiped his eyes.
I took him into my arms, rubbing his back. “See? It’s different this time,” I whispered.
He nodded against me, stepped back, and thanked the FHA club. “I’m going to sit down,” he said to me. “Because if I stay over here, people will—I don’t need to be crying all night,” Felix finally said, cracking a smile.
“Go sit,” I insisted. “I’m off to pep talk the band.”
“Break a leg.”
I smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “I love you, darling.”
Watching life and light pour into Felix’s face only made my heart fall more into sync with his own. His smile was more beautiful than the sun rising over misty mountains or setting on the ocean’s horizon. And I knew that I wanted nothing more than to see it every day for the rest of my life.
I turned and made my way through the rows of seating that had been prepared, and hiked the stairs to the stage. I slipped behind the curtain and joined the students waiting in the wings.
“Okay!” I clapped my hands. “Anyone nervous?”
A few of them looked at one another, one or two nodded, some shrugged.
“Remember this,” I began. “Music is what brought us together tonight. It transcends languages and speaks to every single human being. Play tonight with the passion that brings you back to my class every day. If you trip up, own it. Make it beautiful. Trust one another. Look to me if you need help. And my most important rule?”
“Have fun,” my class repeated back to me, a mantra I’d begun every morning after the daily announcements.
I smiled. “You guys will be amazing. Go take your seats.”
While the students got situated on the stage and the audience’s chatter lessened, I quickly checked myself in a nearby mirror. I had on a charcoal suit and blue checkered shirt with a brown bow tie. I had planned to wear a white shirt and look more formal, but both Scarlet and Alan vetoed that.
“You’ll look like a penguin,” Alan had stated.
“Yeah, but I’m the director. I have to look professional for parents.”
“He’s right, though,” Scarlet had said. “You straddle that professional-hip teacher line much better.”
“It’s true. Barely, but true,” Alan finished.
I combed my hair to the side, tucking a bit behind my ear. Not bad. I took a breath and walked out onto the stage as the lights came up. The audience began to clap. I bowed quickly, stepped onto the platform, picked up my baton, and began.
The concert wasbeautiful.
A vibrant array of pastel colors exploded all around me as classical Western instruments met the distinct emotions of holiday music. An off-pitch here, a missed note there, an overlooked cue, but the band performed with their hearts and souls, and I was lost in a sea of splendid sound and rainbows. At the conclusion of the final piece, I motioned for the students to stand and take a bow. The audience was bursting with proud family members, all clapping and cheering.
One student ran offstage and appeared a moment later with a hand mic. I moved toward her to ask what she was doing, but it was too late.
