Page 61 of Strum Me

“Just kidding, it really was great. We all told you so last night.”

“I dunno, could you have left out the part about my spending thirty minutes in Sephora?” Jez whines.

“No.” I grin and shove a chip into my mouth. I’m so happy.

“Then, yes, it’s still a great piece,” he concedes and gives me a cheeky wink.

I sink back into my seat, shaking from the excitement…and in some part, relief. I had invested everything in this, dropped all other writing work, dragged my wounded son along on tour, and sacrificed my sanity following my teen love around for a month. Knowing that it might have really been worth it feels like a giant two-ton weight has come falling off my shoulders.

I pull Ben into a hug and he growls a little in protest. “M-om, I’m eating. And everyone’s watching.”

“Let them watch, ‘cause now they’re going to see this!” I lean over and give him a big kiss on the cheek, wiping off the lipstick mark I leave behind.

“Ewwwww!”

“You’re a lucky boy, Benny. I’d love to have a lipstick mark like that on my cheek!” Brad teases Ben.

“You can. You just have to get Mommy to love you like she loves me.”

“Got it, kiddo, I’ll keep that tip in mind.”

***

On the third and last day in Birmingham, the guys have a special concert at the chamber concert hall lined up. Dennis arranges a mid-morning rehearsal so the guys can practice some of the pieces they haven’t played for a while off the new album. We all meet up at the rehearsal studio after a quick breakfast, and it’s clear that everyone’s feeling a little tired from the last few days.

After the first few songs, Marius puts his viola down and lies down flat on the floor.

“Can I sit this one out?” he begs.

“Lay this one out more like it,” Jez quips.

“Me too,” Brad says and falls down on the ground almost on top of Marius. “Let’s make it a cello-only song!”

“Make that a cello solo piece,” Jez adds as he joins the pile of male musicians building up on the studio floor.

“Fine by me,” Sebastian grins. He picks up his cello and plays a quick scale. Then bows and grins, holding his arms up waiting for applause.

“It’s a good thing he’s good in bed; his cello playing’s becoming somewhat questionable,” Cadence says to the mock offense of her fiancé, and the amusement of everyone else.

“What does that mean?” Ben suddenly asks from his corner where he’s behind his iPad.

Everyone freezes and their eyes turn to me. I take a swig from my water bottle, stalling as I try to think of an answer.

“Um, Aunt Cadence just means Sebastian is really good at sleeping, honey,” I say, pointing back at the iPad to shift his attention.

“Oh, what’s going on here?” Dennis’s voice booms through the small space. “Why, pray tell, are you all lolling about on the floor like a bunch of limp sardines?”

“They’re trying to be as good in bed as Sebastian, Uncle Dennis. Aunt Cadence said he’s so good it doesn’t matter he’s not good at cello playing,” Ben tells the older man helpfully.

Dennis stops in his tracks and blinks. I can see the profanities dancing on his lips and I give him a pointed look.

Everyone has had to be on their best behavior around Ben and I’ve truly appreciated their effort, but I’m sure next term at school I’ll be called up to the principal’s office for some colorful language from Ben he’s inadvertently learned on the road.

“Oh. I see. Okay. Well, not time for sleep now lads, time for play. Specifically, music play. Let’s take it from the mashup of ‘Flight of the Bumblebee’ and ‘Wings.’”

“Noooooooo, you’re kidding me, right? I can barely hold my head up let alone play Rimsky Korsakov’s torture piece now,” we hear from Brad the molehill.

I can understand his hesitation—as the token violinist, he has to hold up most of that piece, play it like the bumblebee is buzzing to and fro, whizzing back and forth, ducking and weaving. But judging by the way he doesn’t even care that one of his legs is trapped under Jez and his arm is flung over Marius’s face, that bumblebee might as well fall into a pond of water and drown in an untimely death.

“Come on, we’ve got to get the transition right. You guys are rushing the tempo change. It’s a mashup, not a smackdown between Korsakov and Birdy.”

Dennis prods the pile of arms and legs and torsos with his foot and the pile groans. Eventually, it moves and separates into three individual bodies and they take their places again. I’ve heard this piece on their album but not live, and I’m glad Dennis has gotten them back on their feet because I can’t wait to hear it.

Cadence grins at me and bounds over to the piano. Where she gets her endless energy, I don’t know. Something to do with being a teacher, she said, and how nothing saps your energy like that.

Dennis finds a seat and Hailey flips the switch on the recording device so the boys can listen back on it later.

There’s a sense of electric energy in the air. They know this piece is special. They’ve titled the mashup piece “Bumblebee Wings,” and I think it might just be their Grammy-winner.

Brad gives the other guys a nod, their faces serious now, forgetting the laziness of just seconds ago. They’re in the zone, and nothing can break it.

I hold my breath and wait for brilliance.