Page 17 of Not Another Love Song

Gwen nodded and smiled weakly at Ava’s pink nose and wet eyes.

She followed them down to Stern Auditorium in Carnegie Hall, the stage where the Pops performed their main engagements every other month. Nathan ran a comforting hand across Ava’s back on their way downstairs as he chatted with Gwen about her day, like nothing was out of the ordinary.

Once in the auditorium, she noticed an older gentleman sitting in the front row while a thin woman leaned against the stage. They were laughing together like old friends. As they approached, the older man stood and turned to grin at them. Nathan shook their hands, and Ava kissed both of their cheeks.

“This is Gwen Jackson.” He gestured to her, and Gwen fumbled with the violin in her arms so she could shake their hands properly as Nathan said, “Gwen, this is Rebecca Michaels and Dr. Adriel Bergman. They’re on the board of directors for the Pops.”

Gwen thought she might have squeezed Ms. Michaels’s hand a bit too tightly. “Pleasure to meet you both,” she managed to mumble.

“Gwen, don’t think of this as an audition,” Nathan started, leading her up to the stage. “Rebecca and Adriel are old friends of ours, and they’ve never heard you play solo before.”

“Nice try, but there’s nothing you can say to make this ‘not an audition.’”

Nathan grinned while Gwen opened her case.

“Miss Jackson, how old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” Ms. Michaels called from the front row.

“I’m twenty-two.”

“She’ll be twenty-three in June,” Nathan said, looking to Ms. Michaels with some kind of secret smile. Ms. Michaels whispered to Ava, and she nodded, smiling brightly at Gwen.

“What do you want to play today, Gwen?” Nathan jogged down the steps and took a seat next to Ava.

“Beethoven, if that’s all right.”

They agreed, and she lifted the bow. The Beethoven Violin Concerto flowed through her arms, into the strings.

It started quick and grand, and Gwen closed her eyes to concentrate on the melody. She’d played this with Mabel for several years after seeing the New York Philharmonic videos, working the bowing and vibrato until she could play it without a single mistake in the allegro movement.

She wished she had the sheet music now, but she opened her eyes, gaze resting on the edge of the stage, and imagined the page. The difficult fingering came next, and she quivered through the passage, imagining how Mabel needed to turn the page for her. Gwen had asked why they had to put the page turn there and she’d said, “It had to go somewhere.”

She was aware of four sets of eyes on her, and her neck started to tighten. She breathed into the music, trying to relax. The allegro movement was about twenty minutes long, so at a moment of pause, Gwen lifted the bow from the strings, and looked to Nathan to see if she should continue.

He was beaming at her. They all were. Actually, Dr. Bergman had his eyes closed, nodding along.

“That was remarkable, Miss Jackson,” Ms. Michaels said.

“Thank you.”

“She needs to relax a bit,” Dr. Bergman said abruptly, eyes still closed. She felt her shoulders creep to her ears with the reminder of her main failing. “But overall, most impressive.”

Nathan leaned into Dr. Bergman’s ear, and the older man nodded at whatever he said.

Ava whispered to Ms. Michaels, “…been playing only since she was eleven…self-taught…” Gwen caught only a few words and frowned.

Mabel liked to tell people that Gwen was self-taught too, but that wasn’t really true. Mabel had put the first violin in her hands when she was just a lonely sixth-grader, cutting school. Mabel was the one who gave her the practice room, the posture, the finger exercises, the beginning violin books, and later, the violin itself—the very one hanging limply from her fingertips.

“…auditioned for us at nineteen—”

“So you’ve been playing for us for how many years?” Ms. Michaels called to her.

Gwen was so surprised that they were finally addressing her that she had to take a moment to hear the question again.

“Four. This is my fourth season.”

“So the Pops is your first paid, professional violin gig?”

“It is. I…I played in subway stations for tips when I was a kid, but I don’t think that’s what you mean.” She laughed awkwardly, and something in Ms. Michaels’s eyes lit up at the knowledge. Ava smiled at her, sharing in the memory.

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