Fare Forward Page 22

  "Please? I really miss you. Besides, we have a special surprise for you."

  "We? Emily what are you talking about?"

  "Meet me downstairs. I'll be right there."

  The business school was right across the courtyard from Avery Hall, and I knew she was right. We had spent so little time together and with the semester ending and the holidays approaching, we needed to see each other. The marathon of deadlines were taking their toll on everyone and tensions were incredibly high. I was pushing forward, mechanically moving through the motions of my life. Concentrating on each day to not let the overwhelming anticipation stop me completely.

  "Please, I really can't do this right now. Em?"

  "Gabriella, Philip's coming too." Her voice seems serious. "This is important. Just for once, can you please go with it?"

  "Okay, I'm sorry." I look at everything on my desk and then at my watch. "One hour—that's all I have, but I would love to see you. I'll meet you in the lobby in ten minutes."

  I start to organize things on my desk. I know that she will want to talk about everything. My concerns about my grandfather and the development of my relationship with Benjamin. If that was what it was. I hope that by articulating my feelings they might become clearer in my own mind as well. Try to assign words to the many things I cannot define.

  It is cold and raw outside, and I tuck my goose-down coat under my arm and pull on my hat. I run down the circular stone stairs that wrap around the elevator shaft two at a time. It seems ironic that the inventive design atmosphere that is encouraged at the school is contained within a building defined by its symmetric and classical proportions. The ultimate intersection of old and new. These iconic forms of architecture are clearly understood to express the early American formal values of order, what a historic university campus of importance should look like. However, I know that on the drafting tables and computer screens in the studios above, there is not a single student trying to emulate these classical forms. Nor would that have been encouraged. We were expected to read, absorb, and understand the past. Then reject it all.

  As we try to invent the future.

  With a blast of ice-cold air, the door opens, and I see Emily, smiling ear to ear as she strides confidently toward me through the lobby. She reaches out and holds me for a few moments. As always, she looks magnificent, dressed in a long belted black wool coat, and perfectly coordinated. Unlike me in my frayed jeans and mismatched outfit. We make quite the odd pair.

  I hug her back so tightly I surprise even myself. "I'm so happy you're here."

  "Let me see you." She takes a step back to look me over. She beams from the warm greeting I've given her while I stand still, eyes at the ceiling, like a child being inspected by a parent. "Actually, I thought you'd look worse—with the hours you claim to be keeping here." She grins as she throws her arm over my shoulder. "You're perfect, sweetie, you could wear a paper bag on your head and still look good. Actually, you're practically glowing."

  I laugh, "Em, look at me!"

  "It's love, Gabriella." She reaches out for me. "It's written all over your beautiful face."

  I take her hand and hold it to my cheek as I turn my face away from hers, afraid of what she might see in my eyes.

  * * *

  I feel like time is accelerating, whether I am working, painting, or pushing into my future.

  Despite what Einstein said, there does not seem to be any relativity in my experience. I am living in the forward unstoppable momentum of my life. Bringing reality closer to the reunion with Benjamin that I have hoped for.

  The first semester of architecture school is almost over, and I can feel it ending on a high note. My project for the science institute had been noted as a courageous attempt at a new form of architectural composition. Different and original they had said. The pieces of my personal life helping to form a foundation on which the design stood. I still marveled at the irony of that first design challenge.

  "Gabriella, are you okay, honey?"

  "Yes, of course, why?"

  "You're lost in thought again, but we're almost there." Emily leads me down Broadway to one of our favorite local restaurants.

  "Hey, girls." Philip runs up from behind and puts an arm around each of us. "Aren't I the lucky guy?"

  I love his crooked grin and feel very fortunate to have both of them steering me out of the freezing night into the warmth of the cafe.

  "Three of us." Emily takes charge and points the hostess to a round table by the windows. "That one please."

  We sit down, and I look at Emily and Philip.

  "I just want to tell you both, you really are the best friends anyone could ask for."

  "We know." Emily's eyes are on the menu, but I see her smiling.

  Philip looks right at me. "The semester is almost over, are you ready for your trip to the World Conference with your grandfather?"

  "I don't know, Philip."

  He knows so much, and I can see it reflected in his eyes: concern, excitement, the powerful history we have shared.

  "I wish we could go with you," Emily says very seriously.

  "I told you," Philip continues, "we will be here for you, no matter what happens. Remember?"

  "Yes, I . . ." But, it's happening again, the familiar sensation. I reach for my temples.

  "Gabriella, what's the matter?"

  "I'm fine," I say slowly, trying to shake off the blurred vision.

  "I know her, Philip," Emily says with maternal authority. "She's hungry." She flags down the waiter. "Excuse me? Can you please bring us three martinis—dirty—and hurry."

  "What about some food." It's Philip's concerned voice.

  "Gabriella?"

  But I am already very far away.

  I'm on the top of a dark mountain in the desert. I can see it all; I can feel it. There is sadness here, mixed with a certain peace. An understanding that things are as they were always meant to be. I look up into the night and realize that I have never seen so many stars, so many beautiful lights in the sky. They are infinite. We stand together on top of the flat mountain, this sacred space where the spirits of so many wrap around us, calling to my grandfather. I know that it is happening as she said, my grandmother, in the words she had promised to me. That I would find what I was looking for and that I would know. I see her opening her arms for my grandfather, calling him to join her. And Benjamin is there too, he is with me. I feel his strong protective arms wrapped around me and—

  "Gabriella?"

  They both stare at me.

  "Where were you honey?" Emily's face is serious. "Are you frightened?"

  "No, I'm not afraid anymore. I could see it all but I don't know, if I can trust it."

  "Like the night at the bar when you knew that girl was going to—die?" Philip is incredulous.

  "Yes, but this was different. It was good. Beautiful." I catch my breath as I realize what I'm saying. "But not what I expected."

  I decide to keep the details of what I have seen to myself, hoping that the vision of my grandfather saying good-bye to me is wrong.

  "Gabriella has always been able to see things, Philip. Just like her grandmother."

  His face betrays no emotion as he looks at me then downs half his drink. "Paris." Philip's word electrifies the energy between all of us.

  "Yes." Emily's voice is soft, gentle, as if she knows this is a subject that needs to be addressed like an open wound. "And the accident with Lily."

  "It's all starting to make sense to me now." I hear my own voice. "Everything." I look at my hands.

  "You know." Emily reaches across the table. "I may not see it as you do, the future, Gabriella, but I do remember. I remember when we were little. The dreams that would wake you up, how much you taught me in our summers together, and so many other things." She lowers her voice. "Like after Lily's accident. It was as if you built a wall around your heart, but I understood why and I waited. When your parents died, I didn't know what would happen—how you would go on. I alway
s believed that this day would come. When you would come out of that dark place into the light, when the wall around your heart would come down." She squeezes my hands together. "And it has."

  "Yes."

  "Even your grandmother. It's just as she told you isn't it, all of it?"

  I realize that Emily was right about so many things. "Thank you, both." I can't think of anything else to say.

  "Gabriella." Emily raises her glass to me and looks right into my eyes. "Have a wonderful trip. I know you'll find what you're looking for."

  * * *

  49

  * * *

  “EMILY!" PHILIP POINTS to his watch. "We need to go—now!"

  "Oh crap, we're going to be late." She grabs my hand and pulls me out of the booth.

  "Emily, what are you doing?"

  We run out of the restaurant, the incongruous threesome, and back toward the campus. The trees that line College Walk are illuminated with small, white Christmas lights that punctuate the night, the magic brought on by the end of the semester, and the celebration of the season. The beginning in the ending.

  "Where are we going?"

  They lead me across College Walk toward Amsterdam Avenue, and I feel the magnetic pull of the cathedral in the distance. I have been avoiding this side of campus, choosing to take an alternate route other than the way I went home when Benjamin found me in the darkness of the cathedral. It is too painful to relive that night, when I heard him playing the piano solo. It's taking every ounce of energy I have to stay sane and focused on what I have to accomplish before the end of the semester. I cannot let myself think about any of it—the trip, the Conference, or the reunion that I hope will be.

  As we turn toward the eastern edge of campus, the wind picks up and sends a shiver through my exhausted body. Emily is two steps ahead of us, walking quickly, and Philip pulls me forward with determination.

  "Philip." I try to disengage my hand from his grip. "You know I don't like surprises. Tell me what is going on!"

  "Please, Gabriella, honestly, no questions. We need to walk quickly," he says.

  Emily's head is down, concentrating, but smiles as she says. "The things I do for you."

  They both stop suddenly and look at each other. "I'll see you there—in a few minutes," Philip says to Emily.

  "Go, hurry up!" Emily tells him.

  "Philip? Where are you going. Em?"

  She smiles affectionately at me and links her arm through mine. "It's okay, Gabriella, you're going to love this."

  We are, in fact, walking toward the cathedral. Still on the west side of the street, I try to convince myself that we are going to continue by, but Emily looks both ways, and we cross the street and stop right at the bottom of the great steps.

  "Emily, why are we stopping here?" I try to conceal the emotion in my voice, my hesitancy to move forward up the steps. This feeling, this place that I had spent so much time in as a child, now holds new meaning for me.

  "Emily!" I realize with shock that we are ascending. "I can't go in there right now, please." There is panic in my voice.

  "It's okay." She seems genuinely puzzled by my hesitancy to enter the cathedral but encourages me inside as she grabs the handle of the great bronze door with one arm. No small feat—they are eighteen feet high and weigh practically three tons. "Come in." She grins.

  Our eyes meet as so much understanding passes between us. In this moment, I feel her love, the history we have shared, and even the promise of our future together. It is so clear. There is simply unconditional love as she delights in her role. Presenting the unexpected event that is about to be revealed to me.

  I need to trust her.

  We enter the core of the building. The lights are dimmed, but in the distance is a Steinway grand piano. It sits in the center of a circle of chairs that shine in the dim lights of the nave. This is not unusual I remind myself, but as we get closer, I turn and look at Emily as I start to ask a question.

  She speaks first. "This is so exciting! Your grandfather knew that you would be completely engrossed at the studio, too busy to even notice that your birthday was coming up. Now you know how I hate to miss a party, so he called me." Her voice reveals the pride in the alliance they have formed for my benefit.

  She sits down and pats the chair next to her. I look around at the empty seats under the great domed crossing of the church, and then I hear a familiar voice.

  "Gabriella!"

  I turn around and see Philip running toward us pushing Lily's wheelchair, both her hands waving as she calls out my name. I look over at Emily and see the tears in her eyes.

  "We're all together, just like we said we would be."

  I'm amazed that the long, awaited reunion we had hoped for is taking place now, in this place that held so much meaning. A place that contained the many pieces of my past—and my future.

  "Hurry, everyone, here sit down." Emily orchestrates our seating arrangements. "They'll be right out."

  "This is for you." Lily pulls a small envelope out of her purse that has my name on it. She gently places it into my hands. "Open it," she encourages me, her eyes shining as she leans over and gives me a hug. "Happy birthday, Gabriella."

  I had completely forgotten that my birthday was a few days away.

  "Twenty-four," Philip breathes the words. "Time for your life to really begin. I hope you're ready."

  I open the card and read a printed sheet that outlines all the musical details of the piece we were about to hear. At the top it says,

  Composed for Gabriella Vogel

  on the Occasion of her 24th birthday

  with love forever, Papa

  "Your grandfather wanted this special performance to be your birthday gift from him. He said you would understand everything when you heard the music." Lily's voice is low.

  I study the information on the card, trying to understand the multitude of variables and moving parts required for this moment to take place. Then, I hear footsteps. Three people whom I have never seen before enter and take seats on the chairs awaiting them. One sits at the piano, the other two pick up the violin and viola. The pianist turns his head and nods in acknowledgement to us, their small mismatched audience.

  I sit between my two lifelong friends and hold onto them as Philip stands behind, his hands resting protectively on my shoulders. When the music begins, I immediately recognize the piece. It's the same composition I heard so many weeks before, the night I met Benjamin in this very place. The haunting melody that stayed with me.

  We let the music wash over us, taking in the beauty of the sounds and the space. I think about everything that has brought me to this moment, the last time I heard these notes, the night I had stumbled on Benjamin composing and rehearsing, and the power of art and music to carry messages through time. I remember the conversation we had and the words Benjamin had said to me. "The soul of the artist . . . in his work."

  The sound is all around. The music enters my heart, and I recognize everything Benjamin has shown me. The ability I have to feel things I never knew I was capable of. Short of being with him, this is the greatest birthday gift I could have received.

  As we leave the cathedral together, Emily puts her arm around me. "He loves you so much."

  I stop and look at her, not sure what she means.

  "Your grandfather," Philip clarifies. "What an amazing gift—to have commissioned this work for you."

  "Is that what he told you?" I ask, wondering exactly what, if anything, they have been told.

  "Well, yes, he said the piece wasn't finished yet," Emily says with authority. "Still in rehearsals or something like that. But he needed our help to get you here tonight so that you would know that it was a gift—from him—for your birthday. He wanted you to have it now. He didn't want to wait until after your trip."

  My eyes move from Emily to Lily, and I notice Lily nodding to me, encouraging me to accept what I am feeling. As if she knows. My head is full of the melody of the music that has been played in m
y honor as well as the thoughts generated by what has just taken place. There was still so much I did not understand, but, as disoriented as I seemed to be, there were several things I did know.

  Emily and Philip knew nothing about the night I had first heard the music.

  My grandfather did.

  I had a terrifying premonition about why he wanted to present this gift to me before our trip together.

  * * *

  50

  * * *

  IHAD TERRIBLE CELL service in the studio but I could hear the panic in Maggie's voice message. She seemed frantic. I need to call her back, understand what is going on. I climb the stairs to the roof of Avery Hall to find a quiet place to sit and think. This is where students go to smoke, relax, and look out over the rooftops of the Upper West Side.

  Or anything else they want privacy for.

  I try to stay calm, assure myself that there must be a simple explanation for Maggie's urgency, and push away the feeling that something terrible has happened. I clear my mind and look out at the view. I see the Hudson River, and all the way down Broadway. It's raining lightly and the headlights of the cars create ribbons of color on the pavement as they move through the wet dusk. Another day has gone by, and I'm getting closer to the trip with my grandfather and—Benjamin. My cold fingers punch the number into the phone, and I'm immediately connected to her voice at the beach.

  "Gabriella?"

  "Yes, hi, Maggie, it's me."

  "Of course it's you. Oh my goodness, Gabriella, how are you, baby? Are you all right?"

  "Why wouldn't I be? I'm fine, would you please tell me what is going on?" I know everything about Maggie, every facial expression and intonation of her voice. She sounds terrified.

  "I hate to bother you at school, I know you have your exams and everything." She stops.

  "It's okay, what is it, Maggie?"

  "I need you to come home. Before you leave for your trip, if possible. If you can find any way."