tired, and out of place. “For the time being.”
“I would expect no less.” Arthur glanced at his watch. “Sorry, but Catheryn and I still have several tour matters to discuss. If you don’t mind?” Without awaiting a response, he took Catheryn’s arm and, with an easy familiarity not lost on me, began leading her away.
Deftly, Catheryn disengaged herself from Arthur’s grasp. “It can wait, Arthur. Dan, is there something … ?”
“Please, Catheryn,” insisted Arthur. “This is the last time we’ll have together before leaving, and—”
“Arthur, it can wait,” Catheryn repeated firmly.
Just then Adele Washington, the young cellist whose maternity leave had provided Catheryn’s original inroad to the Philharmonic, ambled across the stage. The vivacious and talented young black woman and Catheryn had been friends for years, but since they’d started working together, their friendship had deepened. Quickly assessing the atmosphere of tension, Adele addressed me. “Dan, I thought I recognized that good-looking mug of yours. World treating you okay?”
“No complaints,” I answered, pleased to see Catheryn’s associate. “How’s that fat little baby of yours?”
“Still fat. Not so little anymore. She’s walking, pulling things off tables, and becoming a general pain in the butt, thank you.”
“It gets worse, honey. And once they start talking, it gets a lot worse. Speaking of family, what’s new with Pat?”
“Not much. He’s still working the swing shift at the hospital and playing Mr. Mom during the day. He keeps saying we should get down to the beach sometime and visit you and Kate.”
“Do that. Bring the kid.”
“We will.” Then turning to Catheryn, Adele asked, “Still need a lift?”
“I’ll give Kate a ride home,” I said. “Assuming she can break free from the clutches of the maestro here.”
“I think she’ll manage,” laughed Adele, filling the silence following my comment. “Come on, Arthur,” she added, slipping an arm through his. “Rehearsal’s over. Walk me out.”
“Really, Adele, Catheryn and I have to—”
“Goodnight, Arthur,” said Catheryn, cutting him off. “I’ll call tomorrow. ’Bye, Adele. See you at the airport.”
“Sure thing, hon. Goodnight, Dan.”
“’Night, doll.”
Catheryn and I watched as Adele, arm firmly linked through Arthur’s, left the stage. Then Catheryn turned to me. “I’m sorry about that,” she said. “On occasion Arthur can be …”
“A raging hemorrhoid?”
“I was about to say overly insistent. Virtuoso performers of his stature are often demanding. He can also be very sweet.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s so typical of you to make snap judgments,” said Catheryn with a touch of irritation. “You’ve never even given him a chance.”
“It’s not exactly a snap judgment, sugar. I’ve seen plenty of Arthur. I don’t have to inspect a whole bucket of road apples to know where they came from.”
Catheryn sighed. “You didn’t answer my question,” she said, apparently deciding not to pursue it. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just thought I’d drop by and see how you’re doing, maybe grab a bite to eat. Speaking of which, I made reservations for us at Patina,” I added, referring to an upscale restaurant in the Walt Disney Concert Hall that catered to a theater clientele. Getting short-notice seating at the exclusive establishment on a performance night was difficult, and I had pulled some strings to do it.
“I’m not dressed for dinner, Dan.”
“Hell, even in combat boots and battle fatigues you’d be the best looking woman in the place. C’mon, let’s get over there before the pretheater crowd shows up.”
Catheryn hesitated.
“Look, you have to eat,” I pushed on, realizing her reluctance stemmed more from our recent argument than her casual attire. “Plus, it’ll give us a chance
“I would expect no less.” Arthur glanced at his watch. “Sorry, but Catheryn and I still have several tour matters to discuss. If you don’t mind?” Without awaiting a response, he took Catheryn’s arm and, with an easy familiarity not lost on me, began leading her away.
Deftly, Catheryn disengaged herself from Arthur’s grasp. “It can wait, Arthur. Dan, is there something … ?”
“Please, Catheryn,” insisted Arthur. “This is the last time we’ll have together before leaving, and—”
“Arthur, it can wait,” Catheryn repeated firmly.
Just then Adele Washington, the young cellist whose maternity leave had provided Catheryn’s original inroad to the Philharmonic, ambled across the stage. The vivacious and talented young black woman and Catheryn had been friends for years, but since they’d started working together, their friendship had deepened. Quickly assessing the atmosphere of tension, Adele addressed me. “Dan, I thought I recognized that good-looking mug of yours. World treating you okay?”
“No complaints,” I answered, pleased to see Catheryn’s associate. “How’s that fat little baby of yours?”
“Still fat. Not so little anymore. She’s walking, pulling things off tables, and becoming a general pain in the butt, thank you.”
“It gets worse, honey. And once they start talking, it gets a lot worse. Speaking of family, what’s new with Pat?”
“Not much. He’s still working the swing shift at the hospital and playing Mr. Mom during the day. He keeps saying we should get down to the beach sometime and visit you and Kate.”
“Do that. Bring the kid.”
“We will.” Then turning to Catheryn, Adele asked, “Still need a lift?”
“I’ll give Kate a ride home,” I said. “Assuming she can break free from the clutches of the maestro here.”
“I think she’ll manage,” laughed Adele, filling the silence following my comment. “Come on, Arthur,” she added, slipping an arm through his. “Rehearsal’s over. Walk me out.”
“Really, Adele, Catheryn and I have to—”
“Goodnight, Arthur,” said Catheryn, cutting him off. “I’ll call tomorrow. ’Bye, Adele. See you at the airport.”
“Sure thing, hon. Goodnight, Dan.”
“’Night, doll.”
Catheryn and I watched as Adele, arm firmly linked through Arthur’s, left the stage. Then Catheryn turned to me. “I’m sorry about that,” she said. “On occasion Arthur can be …”
“A raging hemorrhoid?”
“I was about to say overly insistent. Virtuoso performers of his stature are often demanding. He can also be very sweet.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s so typical of you to make snap judgments,” said Catheryn with a touch of irritation. “You’ve never even given him a chance.”
“It’s not exactly a snap judgment, sugar. I’ve seen plenty of Arthur. I don’t have to inspect a whole bucket of road apples to know where they came from.”
Catheryn sighed. “You didn’t answer my question,” she said, apparently deciding not to pursue it. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just thought I’d drop by and see how you’re doing, maybe grab a bite to eat. Speaking of which, I made reservations for us at Patina,” I added, referring to an upscale restaurant in the Walt Disney Concert Hall that catered to a theater clientele. Getting short-notice seating at the exclusive establishment on a performance night was difficult, and I had pulled some strings to do it.
“I’m not dressed for dinner, Dan.”
“Hell, even in combat boots and battle fatigues you’d be the best looking woman in the place. C’mon, let’s get over there before the pretheater crowd shows up.”
Catheryn hesitated.
“Look, you have to eat,” I pushed on, realizing her reluctance stemmed more from our recent argument than her casual attire. “Plus, it’ll give us a chance
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