| Subject: WTTS2 - 81 (language warning) |
Author:
KT
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Date Posted: 22:01:22 01/11/02 Fri
In reply to:
KT
's message, "Window to the Soul 2 - More (splitting the thread *as requested by Sanlin*)" on 21:52:29 01/11/02 Fri
Window to the Soul 2 - Part 81 (small language warning)
By KT
Copyright October 26, 2000
Nikita was very nervous about everything, but discovered, with the gracious help of Gray, that navigating was her biggest problem. Gray showed her all the different ways to access various services and the elevators. For the first time in her adult life, Nikita felt smaller than those around her. It was certainly a foreign sensation, and not one she wanted to have to get used to.
There were people everywhere, and she felt awkward, as though she were taking up more space than she was entitled to. The musicians for the most part greeted her warmly, but with the same mix of reactions she had gotten at church, and she decided that she could either take it personally or let it go.
Rehearsal went well, and she was approached afterward by Paul Wolfe. He complimented her on her being so well-prepared, relieving some of her anxiety. Nikita reminded him that Michael had made an exceptional effort to help her keep current with practice, repertoire and schedules.
"Yes. Michael is special. There aren't many like him. He's been invaluable in so many ways."
Nikita was moved by this unsolicited praise of Michael from the conductor. She knew from first-hand experience that Wolfe did not pass out blatant compliments freely. Paul gave her a knowing smile, watching her reaction blossom. Nikita could feel a slow blush beginning to rise and dropped her eyes. Sometimes she could swear that Wolfe could see right through her. She smiled back.
"Yes, I'm sure he has."
Nikita was acutely aware that Michael had been totally unreadable at the rehearsal. She had known he would detach, but this seemed a little extreme. She watched him from across the room as he met with members of his section. Wolfe's voice intruded on her thoughts.
"Well, good to have you back, Nikita. Please see Christopher and schedule a meeting with me. I'd like to discuss the plans for your début concert next season."
"Yes, I will, and thank you." At least he didn't make her feel uncomfortable. And he seemed genuinely happy to see her.
Wolfe exited and Nikita turned to face the room. Michael was in deep discussion with the section players. The exquisite feel of his forgiving kiss had sustained her all through the rehearsal, but now she felt unable to reconnect. As she started to move in his direction, Gray's voice hailed her from behind, interrupting her misgivings.
"Nikita. Hey. How about some lunch?"
She turned and studied him for a moment. There was no hesitation in his smile. It didn't look like the string section conference was going to end anytime soon. She gathered her determination to make the best of the situation.
"Lunch? Uh, sure. Where?" She glanced at Michael, but his back was toward her.
"Follow me."
She made up her mind and they headed out of the building. As they crossed Michigan Avenue, Nikita began to understand the difficulties of negotiating movement with a reduced view. Being surrounded by people taller than her gave her a feeling of being disoriented. She stayed behind Gray as he led her to the Café de Marseilles.
Walter met her with a hug and a smile. "Hey, sugar, I heard you were coming back today!" He nodded a greeting to her companion. "Gray."
"Hi Walter. Guess you already know Gray Wellman. Assistant Principal French horn. He's my new mentor." She tried to keep her lack of enthusiasm out of her voice.
It didn't surprise Nikita that Michael had told Walter about her return to work. It seemed like Michael had been everywhere lately... the meetings with Paul and Madeleine, Dr. Spence, Gray Wellman, even Sabine and Jamie...
They sat in the corner and ordered. Nikita observed that Gray wasn't shy or self-conscious about his disability. Why should he be? After all, he'd been this way for most of his life. He was so confident, so comfortable, so normal that Nikita started to relax and lose some of her nervousness.
"So, what did you do before you came to the Symphony?" Gray studied her lovely features.
"I was in school. Studied at Oberlin. On scholarship. We didn't have much money."
Gray nodded, enjoying the lilt of her Aussie accent. "My family didn't suffer from that particular malady. My father made a very good living. When I was little I wanted to be an architect, like him. But my illness put me on the inactive list at an early age. Architects have to do a lot of leg work." He gave her a lopsided grin. "So my mother got me music lessons. Funny thing is, I didn't care much about playing at first. But I had talent, and my teacher gave me lots of encouragement."
"Must've been hard for you at school."
"Yeah, kids can be pretty merciless. But really, music changed the course of my life."
Nikita looked at Gray. They really did have something in common besides these damned wheelchairs.
"Mine too."
"I knew you had to be quite the player to be recruited fresh out of school." His compliment made her feel a twinge of pride.
The food arrived. Walter retreated to the counter and busied himself with his other orders, keeping an eye on them. Walter couldn't see how this was going to help Nikita and Michael stay together. Michael must be crazy to assign her to another mentor, wheelchair or no.
They ate without ceremony, discussing the finer points of the rehearsal. As they ended their meal, Gray informed Nikita that she would be finished by three o'clock each day for the first week. Apparently, management felt that it would be best for her not to put in a full day quite yet. Jamie would be there to pick her up.
Nikita sighed. Michael had thought of everything. She didn't doubt that he'd had help from Sabine and Jamie. And it seemed to her that it placed him just out of arm's reach.
* * * * * * * *
And so it went for the rest of the week. Physical therapy before work with Sabine and Jamie, then check in with Gray for her schedule. Nikita found herself starting to look forward to working each day, and put forth a full effort at rehearsals. Nevertheless, she was glad that she could leave early to be restored by her afternoon regimen of bath and massage. She was revitalized by the music and the activity, and slowly her focus changed. Her light was beginning to shine, and those around her noticed the subtle glow.
Michael was like the invisible man, quietly observing Nikita and Gray as they worked together each day, letting events unfold as they would. His reward came as Nikita started to become herself again, due, he was sure, to the combination of the healing power of music and Gray's attentive assistance. He read Gray's reports filled with enthusiasm for Nikita's progress. He visited the dojo daily, disciplining himself, turning inward, clearing his mind, calming his body, focusing, renewing... dreaming...
Nikita was feeling stronger by the day. Dinner company included various combinations of Roberta, Sabine, Gwen, and Jamie. She would practice some of "Nights..." each evening, surrounded by her "family". Birkoff came by a couple times and sat listening, and they would discuss various approaches to the more difficult passages. He enjoyed being part of the family scene, and apologized for being scarce lately.
"It's all right, Seymour. I understand. You've got a lot going on with your new position."
"It's not just that," he confessed. "It's Gail. She is making demands on my time that I'm afraid I just can't give her right now. She's being stubborn about it, and I'm not sure how to handle it. I don't want to lose her, but I have to put in extra hours this first year if I want to keep this job. And I do want to keep it." He smiled.
"So, you're loving it, then?"
"Yeah. It's perfect. Exactly like I pictured it."
"Well, if Gail truly wants to be with you, she'll learn to support you in this. Have you explained it to her?"
"Yes, but I don't think she gets it yet."
"Don't worry, she'll come around." Nikita was glad he had confided in her. It felt good to be helping out a friend, after being so helpless herself.
Michael was noticeably absent from the Wirth residence. Though he called every night for the first week, he kept his conversations with Nikita mostly about the Symphony. He listened carefully as she recounted how things went, he told her about his day, asked kindly about her Mom, and sometimes chatted with Sabine or Jamie, if they answered. He spoke no words of love, only left her with his tender farewell "sweet dreams, Nikita". Her heart would tweak a bit as he spoke her name.
At work, Nikita and Michael crossed paths at rehearsals, but he was busy putting together a recruitment package for Madeleine, and his office was frequently inaccessible. Nikita found herself having to seek other avenues of support, and both Gray and to her surprise, Adrian, were always available to talk.
As she lay in bed every night, her thoughts reflected back over each day. Nikita missed not being able to go to Michael to discuss things. She missed his touch, she missed his voice, and the way his eyes gave her access to his inner world, at once adoring her and challenging her. Yes, Michael was giving her what she said she wanted. To be free. To be friends. To be...
She was beginning to get the message. She had to be strong, stand on her own, take charge of her life. Be as she was before all this craziness had happened. Be who she was before she had met him. Well... not quite... Be who she had become since he had healed her soul. That was the thing to hang on to. It was just the thought of them together, and not together, that made it so much harder.
* * * * * * * *
Friday. Nikita was amazed at how quickly the week had gone by. She and Gray kept their lunch appointment. They had gotten to know quite a lot about each other in the past week. Her respect for him grew when Nikita learned of Gray's daughter Casey, just four years old, and the death of Gray's wife. She marvelled at how he could cope with all that and still be there for her. In her heart, she knew that it was music that held the threads of his life together, as it had done and was doing for her.
As they finished eating, they sat back and relaxed for a moment. Nikita was lost in her thoughts.
"Nikita..."
"Hmmm?"
"Would you have dinner with me?"
She looked up, surprise in her eyes. "What?"
"Dinner. Would you have dinner with me? Tonight."
"What, tonight?"
"Well, yes, that is, if you don't have any other plans."
Going out had not entered her mind since coming home from the hospital. Nikita was unsure of how to respond. Going to church had alerted her to the perils of being in public, and the idea of being in a restaurant, with crowded tables and elegant waiters was fairly intimidating. The Café was easy, with its informal atmosphere and lots of room to maneuver, and Walter's accommodating service. She didn't think she was ready.
"No... no, I don't have any plans, but..."
Gray knew what her hesitation was all about. "Don't be scared. You have to get out sometime, you know."
"I know." She was thinking of Michael.
"It's not a date, OK? Just dinner."
Nikita sighed. He was right. She had to get out. Probably sooner was better than later.
"All right."
"Good. I'll pick you up at five."
* * * * * * * *
Michael arrived at Roberta's around six o'clock. He hadn't called. He wanted to surprise Nikita. As he stepped quietly through the front door, he heard voices around the kitchen table and the sounds of plates and forks clinking. He set down his pack and his cello, and stood in the entry. He identified the voices of Roberta, Gwen, Sabine, and Jamie.
"Don't worry, Roberta," he heard Jamie say, "she'll be fine."
"That's right," Gwen agreed, "she needs some diversion."
Roberta protested. "Yes, but I don't like this chap."
Sabine rejoined. "Well I thought he was quite likable. You're just being contrary. Not to mention a bit over-protective, my dear. One could see that Mr. Wellman was very self-assured, very cultured."
"Perhaps," Roberta retorted. "But I think he's just taking advantage of her situation, trying to be nice and all. She didn't seem all that excited about going, or I don't know my own daughter. Just being polite, she was."
"And so we would expect her to be," Sabine continued, her voice a bit sharp. "I know what's on your mind, Roberta. It's true. He's not Michael. But we have to respect her wishes and her actions. She wouldn't have gone at all if she didn't think there was some value in it."
Michael stood still. Nikita... out with Gray! This was not part of his plan. He was thrown momentarily off balance, his heart beating a bit faster. He decided it would be best if they did not know he had heard them. He turned and opened the front door, closing it noisily.
"Hello," he called, and walked into the kitchen. A circle of faces looked up at him, and there was an awkward moment of silence. Roberta regained her speech first.
"Michael!" She gave him a smile of relief. "I'm so glad to see you. Won't you join us for dinner?"
Michael was starving, but he held off on his answer. "Where's Nikita?" He wanted to see what they would tell him.
Roberta exchanged glances with the others. She couldn't bring herself to tell Michael that Nikita was with Gray. She looked up at him with great concern in her eyes. "I'm sorry... she's..."
"She went out for dinner." Trust Sabine to speak the truth. Michael turned a cool gaze on her.
"Oh, I see." His eyes bored into hers. "Alone?"
Sabine again answered truthfully. "No, she..."
Jamie rose abruptly from the table, interrupting her before she could say more. "Would you ladies excuse us, please?" He led Michael into the living room, then turned to face him.
"Michael, Nikita is out with Gray Wellman. You do know him, don't you?" His eyes looked candidly into Michael's.
Michael returned Jamie's stare beat for beat. "Yes."
"You made him her mentor, did you not?"
"Yes."
"And you pulled back at the same time, did you not?"
"Yes, but it was she who..."
Jamie cut him off. "I know you two quarreled. What, she pushed you away, and you're not pushing back? That's not your style, Michael. I've seen you in action."
"This is different."
"How?"
"I can't help her. I told her I'd get her through this, but she won't let me." As he spoke, Michael realized how angry he was about it.
"She won't let you?" Jamie held Michael's eyes as his words struck with controlled force. "Michael. Listen to yourself! If she were mine, I would be pushing back with everything I had." His defiance took Michael unawares. "Don't be a fool, Michael. She wants your help. I know. I deal with this mentality all the time. You threw them together, and now they are together. She's only doing this because she thinks you've cut her loose."
Michael stood staring as the truth of Jamie's words sunk in. He had cut her loose. As he realized that he had abandoned himself as well as Nikita, a new plan began to take shape in his mind. He looked at Jamie with what could almost be called affection. A look of deep understanding passed between the two. With a nod, they parted and turned back toward the kitchen.
Michael took off his coat and draped it over a chair as he sat down at the table. "Thank you for asking, Roberta. Now that you mention it, I'm quite hungry."
* * * * * * * *
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