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To my ears, all I could hear were my imperfections, but that was because I was human.
But was it enough?
“Mr. Adamos?”
I turned at the familiar voice and saw Alessandro leaning in the doorway. He had an unreadable expression on his face as he stepped in, hands clasped behind him.
“We’re not doing callbacks for this season,” he said. “You’ll only hear from us if it’s a yes.”
I nodded, my jaw so tense it was giving me a headache. I loosened my tongue and breathed. “I understand.”
“I can’t give you an official answer, but I can tell you that sometime next week, I’d like you to please answer your phone.”
My heart thumped in my chest so hard I actually felt dizzy and had to grab the table. “I don’t understand…”
“You should understand. You’ve only proven to me that I was right. Whatever you had in London with him, it pales in comparison to what you’re able to do on your own.”
My throat went tight, and I forced it clear. “I don’t know what to say.”
Alessandro’s eyes were shining, and he leaned in close, dropping his voice like he didn’t want to be overheard. “Just say that you’ll listen for my call. I have plans for you, Jules. Big plans. And I can’t wait to go home and tell my wife that I was right all along.”
With that, he turned and left me to my shock.
I floated through packing up my cello, and I’d all but forgotten about Forrest for those long moments while I digested everything Alessandro had said to me. It felt like a dream, and I was a little too afraid to question it in case I woke up and realized I had to do the day all over again.
Then, with my cello on my back, I turned the corner and came to a skidding halt because he was there again. Forrest’s brother. He was a little pale in his cheeks, and his eyes were big and worried as he approached.
“He sent you?” I blurted.
Oddly, he looked shaken, though he also looked like he was trying to hide it. “He…There was an incident. He fucked up his hand on one of his tools this morning. It’s…He’s okay,” he added in a rush. “He asked me to come see you and let you know he tried to be here.”
An icy chill destroyed the high I was riding. “What do you mean? He hurt himself?”
“I mean that I’ve been up his ass about how dangerous his apartment can be sometimes, and he never listens, and it turns out I was right,” he spat, but something told me he wasn’t angry about Forrest getting hurt. There was something he wasn’t telling me. “He almost cut his fucking hand off.”
My heart jolted in my chest, but he didn’t give me the chance to ask him anything else.
“He begged me to come see you and give you this.” Reaching into his pocket, Forrest’s brother pulled out a little folded square of yellow paper. “He says he’ll understand if you don’t show up, but that he’ll leave your name at the door. He promises to explain everything there.”
“There’s a lot he hasn’t told me, isn’t there?” I asked.
His brother met my eyes, then gave a single, stiff nod. “There is. I just…” He let out a puff of air and dragged his hand down his face. “It’s complicated.”
“Isn’t it always?” I murmured. I found the courage to unfold the flyer and saw simple text written in black ink—a rich contrast to the background.
For the first time in five years, tactile wood-carving artist Forrest Byrne will be showcasing his work this New Year’s Eve. Various pieces for sale. Please RSVP. Limited public attendance.
I looked up at his brother. “Forrest Byrne.”
He shrugged. “I think our parents were begging for him to become an artist when they named him.”
My mouth twitched into a smile as I glanced back down again. I didn’t know what tactile wood carving meant, but if it was anything like the little cello he’d created, or the box that it went in, I could infer it would be delicate and rough in some places and soft in others.
“You’re proud of him, aren’t you?” I asked.
He laughed and shrugged. “I don’t know that I could possibly be prouder. Then he goes and does shit like becoming friends with his noisy neighbor, and suddenly goes out for coffee by himself, and sets up his first showing in years in spite of his—”
“Coffee by himself?” I interrupted.
