Chapter 8
Mid-January
Disproportionately nervous, I step into the choir practice room and shrug off my coat. It’s sweltering, the creaking radiators overcompensating for the icy January night outside. Lisa is helping a couple of the tenors unload stacked chairs.
“Josie!” She drops the chair she’s holding with a clatter and rushes over to give me a hug. “How are you? We haven’t seen you in forever! So happy you’ve come back.”
“Thanks,” I reply, a bit thrown. I saw her last at rehearsal at the end of November. But for her, I haven’t been a choir member for more than two years. It’s going to be so weird, pretending I don’t remember people, or the music. “With my . . . amnesia, it doesn’t feel as long for me.”
“That makes sense. If you’ve lost three years, then the last time you remember, you were in the choir. So it must feel like you still are.” She laughs, pushing back her hair. “That’s crazy. Too bad you only know old repertoire.”
“I’ll catch up. I learned the newer songs during the holidays, after I decided to rejoin. I’ll be fine.”
A group of men enter the room and my heart pounds.
The reason for my nervousness, all six foot two of him, is walking toward the coat rack, laughing with Ryan.
Peter takes off his dark coat, removes his woolen beanie hat and runs his fingers through his sandy hair, glancing toward me.
He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and gives a polite half-smile before turning back to Ryan.
Of course, he doesn’t recognize me. But it still hurts.
Lisa follows my gaze. “That’s Peter. Cute, right? He’s been in the group a couple of years now, joined just after you left. I introduced you and Rob to him and his girlfriend, Michelle, when you came to last year’s show, but you won’t remember.”
“No.” This is so weird.
“He’s fun — you’ll like him. Always cracking jokes and getting into trouble with Kathryn.”
The director herself walks into the room and stands at the front, clapping for attention.
“Happy New Year, everyone,” Kathryn greets.
“Welcome back.” She claps her hands. “Right, catch-up is over, let’s get settled.
There’s a lot to do and a few announcements before we start.
First, we have a returning member, so let’s welcome back Josie Cavendish, who left us, what is it, two-and-a-half years ago? ”
I nod as the gathering group offers generous applause, with a couple of whoops from Lisa and Ryan.
“For those of you not in the loop,” Kathryn continues briskly, “Josie has suffered amnesia and has lost the past three years of her life. Even if you have met Josie before, she might not remember you. Don’t be offended. Reintroduce yourselves in the break.”
The director glances at her notes. “Next up, we still need a soprano for the ‘Can’t Sleep Love’ duet in this year’s summer show, along with our charming Peter here.
It’s a tricky part, but I’m sure one of you could take it on.
” She looks right at me. “Josie? I realize you’re newly back with us, but this would work well with your voice, if you’re willing to try?
It would require some extra rehearsals.”
My eyes widen in surprise. She’s talking about the same duet I’ve spent weeks rehearsing with Peter, in my real life, before my accident. I know the song inside out. I’ve sung it with Peter many times. It’s a much easier task than she thinks.
All eyes are on me. “I could give it a go.”
Aside from already knowing the song, all I can think is that it’s time with Peter, to resolve the issue of whether there’s anything between us in this world.
I turn to him, my eyebrows raised in a question — okay by you?
He gives me a quizzical half-smile, and I realize my look might seem overfamiliar. I turn away, embarrassed.
“Atta girl. Speaking of Peter, one final announcement. Very happy news. Peter and Michelle are expecting a baby! Isn’t that wonderful? Congratulations to you both, Peter.”
What?
The other members turn to congratulate him, asking him how many weeks along they are, whether it’s a boy or girl, and whether they’ll continue living in their Greenpoint apartment.
I open my water bottle, attempting nonchalance. But my mind is racing.
A baby? How can they be having a baby?
Six weeks ago, this guy was about to become my boyfriend. He didn’t even have a good relationship with Michelle. They were breaking up!
But that was when I was in his life. Maybe I was the reason for the deterioration of his relationship. In a world without me around, maybe Peter and Michelle overcame their challenges and got stronger.
I can barely concentrate on the music, and just go through the motions.
At the break, friends I’ve known for a couple of years introduce themselves, assuming I don’t remember them, even though I do, and I stammer my way through awkward conversations.
By the time we pour into the nearby bar for drinks afterward, I’m hopelessly confused. And I still haven’t spoken to Peter.
“This amnesia is hitting you hard, huh?” Lisa’s studying me curiously. “You seem discombobulated.”
“That’s the perfect word for it,” I agree. “I’m all over the place. It’s crazy what a head injury can do.”
“I hope you’re not riding that bike home, especially with the roads this icy.”
“No. Electra got mangled. Rob bought me a new red bike last week, a surprise extra gift, but it’s been too dangerous to ride.”
“You should hop in with Peter, he always drives. He and Michelle live in Greenpoint, and I think he’s been taking the Midtown tunnel, so Union Square isn’t far out of the way.” Before I can say anything, she calls out, “Hey, Peter!”
He picks up his beer and saunters over. “Hey,” continues Lisa, “remember meeting Josie and her husband at our show last year?”
Peter sits down on a stool opposite us. “Sure.” He gives me a smile, “I remember you both. You won’t remember me, of course. Peter Klavins, bass extraordinaire.”
“Nice to meet you.” I’m having trouble looking at him. I feel such a fraud. “To meet you again, that is.”
“And you. Thanks for saying you’ll try the duet with me.
I’ve been wanting to do it, but Kathryn hasn’t found the right soprano to blend with my voice.
You’re my only hope, Obi Wan.” He’s so easy with me.
“I’ll email you the sheet music and part recording, and we can take some extra time before or after rehearsals. What’s your email address?”
As I’m writing it down, Lisa jumps in. “Hey, you go back to Greenpoint via the tunnel, right? Could you swing by Union Square and drop Josie home? It’s only a few blocks along 15th. She’s not riding her bike since her crash, and we need to take care of her.”
Peter seems caught off guard but quickly recovers. “Of course. Sure. But I need to leave soon. I have to get back to Michelle. She’s been having morning, noon and night sickness. That work for you?”
“Fine.” My nervousness is returning. I take a swig of my wine but leave the rest. Peter finishes his beer.
Lisa nods at us, obviously relieved that someone is taking responsibility for me. “You get your ride, Josie, the wine’s on me. Get me back next week.”
“Thanks,” I tell her, pulling on my coat. “You can hold me to it.”
Outside, I recognize Peter’s restored Chevy instantly, but at the last moment remember to act like I don’t know which vehicle is his. Inside the car, it smells the same. My memories of our extra rehearsals and flirtatious rides to Brooklyn come flooding back.
I’ve had such a crush on him, for such a long time. But do I really feel the same now? Now that Rob’s in my life?
As he pulls off, I inhale deeply. “Congratulations. A baby. That’s amazing.”
“Thanks. We’re very happy. Michelle and I have had our ups and downs, but we decided a few months back we would make a go of it. And now we’re pregnant. Seems meant to be.”
I can hear the warmth in his voice, and an unexpected feeling comes over me. I’m actually happy for him. I care enough about this man to want the best for him, even if that means he’s having a baby with another woman.
With little traffic on the roads, he is soon pulling up to Cavendish House.
“He named this place for you? That’s so . . . baller.”
“Isn’t it? A wedding gift to me, one of many, apparently . . . I don’t remember meeting him, or our marriage. It’s all in the time I’ve lost.”
Peter smiles. “Then there’s good news. You get to fall in love all over again. And that’s the best feeling in the world. He must be crazy about you, if he’s naming buildings. He’s a cool guy, right?”
“He’s wonderful.” And I mean that. Rob is great. “Well, thanks for the ride, Peter. I hope Michelle feels better.”
“You’re welcome, Josie. See you next week.” I give him a little wave as he drives off.
Riding up to the eighteenth floor, I am strangely at peace. I let myself into the apartment and drop my keys on the foyer table. I can hear Rob moving about.
“Hey,” I say, as I walk into the kitchen. He smiles at me and, for a moment, it’s almost like he’s going to kiss me on the cheek. But he doesn’t.
“Hey yourself,” he replies easily instead. “You realize this is the first evening we’ve spent apart since your accident? I missed you.”