| Subject: WTTS2 - 68 |
Author:
KT
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Date Posted: 21:15:23 01/11/02 Fri
In reply to:
KT
's message, "Window to the Soul 2" on 20:43:26 01/11/02 Fri
Window to the Soul 2 - Part 68
By KT
Copyright July 6, 2000
Michael was all business when he arrived at the Hall. He was like a man possessed as he prepared himself for his busy day. He paged Paul Wolfe and set up a meeting with Madeleine, George, Adrian, and himself. He knew that it would be better if they learned of Nikita's condition sooner than later. He turned down lunch invitations from Birkoff and Davenport.
Next on the agenda was a call to Detective O'Brien. The conversation he'd overheard at the bistro was still nagging in the back of his mind. They chatted for just a moment, just pleasantries. Then Michael recounted the episode to O'Brien and vented his misgivings.
O'Brien's ears perked up when Michael mentioned the names Egran and Vlad.
"It's just too much of a coincidence, Detective. They spoke as if they were old friends... close friends."
"Michael, ever thought of becoming an informant?" O'Brien half-joked. But he continued before giving him a chance to reply. "For your information, the Egran you speak of is Karen's uncle, Egran Petrosian. He was her legal guardian until she turned twenty-one. He's been arrested as an accessory. I can't tell you any more at this time. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this conversation to anyone." O'Brien felt Michael could be trusted with the truth.
Michael sucked in his breath. An accessory! "Of course. And Vlad?"
O'Brien cleared his throat. "I owe you one for this. Vlad Chernov. Karen's landlord. Thanks for calling, Michael. Seems I have a little further investigating to do." He clicked off.
Michael digested this new information for a few minutes, then put it aside. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted. He reviewed yesterday's sectional notes and headed down to Paul's office for the meeting.
* * * * * * * *
O'Brien's mind raced. If Chernov and Petrosian were close, and he knew about Karen, then...
He dialed Cossins quickly and skipped the polite greetings. "Patrick! I need to know if forensics has been dispatched to Karen Kent's apartment yet. This is urgent!... Yeah, right away... Seems there's a connection between Petrosian and Chernov, the landlord... maybe even some other kind of arrangement... business maybe. I'm on my way down there now... and I need anything you can find on Chernov... yeah, call me on my cell phone asap. Thanks." He was out the door.
* * * * * * * *
Nikita lay in bed, breathing deeply of Michael's essence and missing him terribly. She admitted to herself that she hadn't been very receptive to his truthful outreach. In fact, she'd been downright ornery in the face of his gentle ministrations. And he'd left without waking her or saying goodbye. A deep pang of remorse rifled through her gut...
"I'm sorry," she said to the pillow, reaching her hand out to caress... her eyes opened... nothing.
Her stomach grumbled as Nikita realized that she was hungry. And naked. Michael had not-so-conveniently placed her nightgown on the chair, out of reach. She called out for Sabine. There was a shuffling in the hallway. Roberta popped her head in the door, her heart immediately pained by the look of longing on her daughter's face.
"Good morning, Nikita."
"Hi, Mom. Uh, could you please hand me my nightgown? Thanks."
Roberta retrieved the garment and placed it on the bed. She sat down and stared, wondering how to cure the ache in Nikita's heart. She didn't know of Michael's visit, only that her child was suffering. Nikita pulled the gown over her head and down around her body. Her eyes connected with Roberta's, and they read each other's concern.
Sabine came down the hallway, but halted just outside the door as she heard their conversation begin. Roberta sighed gently.
"It's hard for me to see you suffer so, dear. It's funny, but now I think I understand how you must have felt when you learned of my terminal condition. I was so afraid to tell you. There was no way to lessen the blow, and no way to avoid the reality of the situation. Maybe cushion it a little, but still..." Roberta grew pensive as she reflected on their odd plight.
Nikita remained silent for a minute. Her mouth quirked in a lopsided humorless grin.
"It is funny, isn't it? Here I thought I was going to have to be strong for you. And now I need you to be strong for me."
Roberta was calm. "But you have Michael." She saw Nikita's face fall a bit. "Aren't things progressing between you two?" She waited, thinking of his promises to her.
"I... I honestly don't know right now." Nikita's rough whisper bit into Roberta's heart.
Roberta considered this answer and decided to change the subject. Nikita was obviously not ready to discuss this.
"Well, my dear, what you need to do is what the doctors ordered. Rest, eat, and work out. My prayer is that God will take care of the rest."
Nikita looked quizzically at Roberta. "You never used to talk about God."
"I know. I still don't. But I believe, just the same."
"So what else should I do, Mom?"
"Why, fight, of course. Do the therapy, believe in the future. I do. I believe in you. You have the gift of music. Use it. Do what you were meant to do. Don't do it for me. Do it for yourself."
Roberta's expression turned tender as she continued. "Don't you think I'd be fighting if I thought I could beat this? You'll never know what it has meant to me to have you here now, even for this short time, and to know what you've accomplished. I'm proud of you. It has made these last months better than I had dared hope they would be."
Roberta stood up slowly. Sabine had eavesdropped, spellbound, on the entire conversation, but now as she heard her charge rise to leave, she quietly backed away from the door.
"Time to get this show on the road," Roberta prodded. "I'll get Sabine to bring your wheels." She smiled as her mood lightened. "And Jamie will be here soon. We'd better get ready. I have a feeling he's not going to be easy on us today."
Nikita felt her spirits begin to lift. As Roberta's words sank in slowly, and she realized the gift she'd just been given.
"Oh, Mom, I..."
Roberta shook her head. "Don't say anything. I know what's in your heart. Just show me." She stood and shuffled out, trembling a little with emotion and fatigue, but brave as ever. "Sorry, dear. I need to get my... I'm feeling a little..." Her knees gave way as she tried to steady herself.
Sabine caught Roberta as she started to collapse, lowering her gently to the floor. Nikita sat up, feeling totally helpless. Jamie entered a moment later and moved quickly down the hall when he saw what was happening. Sabine looked up at him as she took Roberta's pulse.
"She's all right then?" came his soft inquiry.
Sabine nodded her relief. She shot a reassuring look at Nikita. Jamie bent and gathered Roberta in his arms and carried her to her room, settling her in bed and getting her oxygen tube hooked up. Roberta looked up at him a minute later, a weak smile on her face.
"Thank you, Jamie. I'm just a bundle of trouble, hmmm?"
"Why, not at all, Ma'am. Not at all."
Sabine brought tea and sat with Roberta, reflecting on the exchange between mother and child, wrapped up in thoughts of her own daughter so far away.
* * * * * * * *
Michael took command of the meeting with the higher powers of the Symphony. He was direct and succinct.
"I've called this meeting to inform you of the results of recent events that have affected our organization. Since I've been personally involved, I wanted to present the information myself. And as orchestra mentor, working closely with new personnel, I felt I should give my recommendations for a plan of action."
He held up his hand as George started to speak. "Please, I would ask that you let me say everything I want to say before you comment." He had their full attention.
"You all know the details of the shooting incident involving Karen Kent."
Madeleine shifted slightly in her seat. Paul cleared his throat.
"You also know that she has been arrested pending charges for the murder of our former colleague Jaime Zalman." Michael paused. He would not speak ill of the dead. "We will feel the loss of Mr. Zalman, and we will feel the impact of Ms. Kent's actions." Paul glanced at Madeleine, and George and Adrian passed a look between them.
Michael drew a deep breath. Now was the moment of truth.
"As you also know, Nikita Wirth has suffered a severe head injury in the shooting, and is currently recuperating at home."
Michael strove to control his emotion, but his voice thickened just a little. "She has temporary paralysis, and is at this time unable to walk. The prognosis is that she will fully recover from this condition. In the meanwhile, she has full use of her hands, and her mental faculties are unimpaired."
There! He'd said it! He paused as he heard surprised sounds from his superiors. Stunned eyebrows went up around the table. Their shock was evident.
"Unless you have an objection, I assume that you will retain Ms. Wirth as Principal, whether she is able to walk or not."
Michael proceeded before anyone could comment.
"Furthermore, Ms. Wirth has begun working on a piece for her solo début, and will continue to perform her duties as Principal as soon as her doctors release her to return to work. I trust that this arrangement is satisfactory. Now, do you have any questions?"
An full minute passed as they absorbed this information. Michael's speech had apparently put their minds at ease.
Paul spoke for them all. "No, Michael. I think that is perfectly clear. Anyone?" There were nods all around. "I believe that will be quite satisfactory. Please convey our good wishes to Ms. Wirth toward her recovery, and tell her that we look forward to her return."
Paul was touched by Michael's devotion to his duty as mentor, and was privately relieved to see that though Michael seemed deeply affected by these developments, he had not succumbed to them. Michael hadn't yet informed him of Nikita's choice of solo work, but he knew that Michael would reveal the details in good time. His trust and respect for the younger man continued to grow. He looked at Madeleine, but as usual, her expression was carefully composed.
The meeting ended. Michael breathed a contained sigh of relief.
Now, he just needed to convince Nikita.
* * * * * * * *
Jamie put Nikita through her regimen. They worked in the living room, where there was enough space. As he finished up with massage, he complimented her on her work.
"Things went better today. You put in a good effort."
"Thanks, Jamie. I hope I can do as well tomorrow."
"So do I. But you will take that up with Sabine. I won't be here tomorrow. They've assigned me a new case." He grinned. "Well don't look so disappointed."
Nikita was disappointed. She liked Jamie's strength and disposition. His cheerfulness was infectious. She gave a short laugh.
"And take good care of my dear friend Sabine, please. She is the only "family" I have, you know." Jamie picked up Nikita's hand and kissed it gently, his eyes on her face. Nikita blushed as his action reminded her of Michael.
"Don't worry. We will."
"Good. Now, time for lunch."
Jamie dropped her hand and helped her into her chair as the front door opened. Nikita looked up.
"Michael!"
"Hello, Nikita." He turned to the nurse. "You must be Jamie." They shook hands. Michael was brusque. "Nikita, I only have a few minutes." He strode over to her piano and rummaged through the pile of scores on top. "Ah, here it is. Now..."
Jamie exited to the kitchen to fix lunch. He smiled to himself as he guessed what Michael was up to. An excellent plan.
Michael opened his pack and pulled out a large envelope. "Here are the scores for the Brandenburgs. As you know, they're on the program for the end of the season. I thought you'd like to start refreshing now. I assume you've played them before?"
He stared at her for a moment, sensing that something had changed since last night. Her color was high, and she seemed lighter somehow.
Nikita nodded, somewhat speechless at Michael's abrupt entrance and down-to-business attitude. He handed her the score for "Nights in the Gardens of Spain."
"Now, you'll need to start on the de Falla. I've cleared it with Paul Wolfe. We can set the concert date at your discretion. Oh, by the way, he and Madeleine and the others send their regards and wishes for a speedy recovery." He continued to talk, not letting her get a word in. "I'll thank them for you, if you like."
She nodded again, trying to collect her wits, as Michael pushed onward.
His voice was suddenly quiet. "I'll be back after work to help you with these. See you then."
He leaned over, his face close to hers, his fingers coming to rest behind her ear, his thumb stroking her cheek. His eyes were stormy and demanding. He wanted to kiss her, but her stinging remark from the previous night was still fresh in his mind. Michael decided to let Nikita make the next move.
Her broken reply was like a blessing invoked. "Oh, Michael. I'm sorry. What I said, I..." She frowned uncertainly into his eyes and saw their cloudiness evaporate as his expression softened.
He stopped her speech with a tender kiss that lingered for just a moment before he pulled away.
"Thank you." He picked up his pack and left as abruptly as he had come.
Nikita looked down at the envelope in her lap. Sabine and Roberta appeared at Jamie's call for lunch. She caught their eyes as they passed her chair, her face graced by a genuine smile.
"Guess I have some practicing to do."
* * * * * * * *
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