Page 12 of The Night the Stars Went Dark

“Maybe a little of both. You did sound great though.” I smiled sheepishly. “Do you really want to play cello though? What about guitar?”

He shrugged. “Cello is what I came here for. Guitar is something I taught myself.”

“I guess I just see you in a band or something.” I stared at the ground.

“Hey.” He waited for me to look at him. “A symphony is a band, silly.”

“You know what I mean. After seeing you at open mic, I know you could be a rock star someday.” I gave him a half smile. Bryson was talented, more talented than he gave himself credit for, and sometimes I think I’m the only one who sees it.

“Maybe.” I stared off toward where the stage lights were glaring onto the black curtains.

We stood there talking for a few more moments until I was up. “Break a leg.” He smiled as I took a deep breath and headed for the baby grand that was front and center on stage.

My feet dragged as I clutched my music in my hands. I strode over to the bench and gracefully sat down. I straightened my back and placed my music on the stand. I glanced out at the filled seats. It was hard to make much out. The lights were blinding, but I could see him. Right where he said he’d be. Front row, center stage. Dad smiled as he gave a slight nod ofencouragement. I closed my eyes and let the wordsyou are good enoughdrift through my head. I could do this.

Without thought, I placed my hands over keys. I swallowed the lump in my throat, and pressed down, sounding the first chord. The piano filled the auditorium. My fingers danced as I rocked to the beat on the bench. Effortlessly, the music poured out of me, years of practice making me perfect in that very moment.

When I reached the final chord, I paused. You could hear a pin drop, and when I stood, applause filled the air. The audience stood, clapping and whistling and right in the middle of all of it was my dad. The look of pride that filled his features was unmistakable. I’d dreamed of this moment for years, but my dad had envisioned it for most of my life. All those years ago when I begged him to teach to me to play, I know that he knew this was in my future.

I gave a quick curtsy before rushing off the stage and into the wings. Bryson was standing there waiting. “You were amazing,” he shouted as he wrapped me in a hug. “I knew you could do it.”

“Did you see?” I wiggled my hands in front of him as he sat me down. “No mistakes.” I grinned.

“You’ve lived in that practice room for weeks. I knew you’d be perfect.” He laughed.

“Penny!” My dad came rushing around the corner. “You were brilliant.” He kissed my forehead as I grinned even more if that was even possible.

“Do you think they liked it?” I nibbled my lip, daring myself to be happy.

“I think they’d be crazy not to offer you the job. We must celebrate!” He lifted me in his arms and spun in a circle. “We must all celebrate.” He pointed at Bryson.

“Come with us.” I motioned for him to follow. “Dinner, wine, and most important, ice cream.” I giggled.

“Who could say no to that?” He chuckled.

Dad offered his arm, and after linking mine with his, we left the auditorium with Bryson trailing behind us. It was a nice night, and I all but skipped down the sidewalk like a young child as we made our way to the restaurant district with a blanket of stars overhead.

The walk didn’t take long, and when we paused in front of the large wooden door, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. Embers was famous for their brick oven pizza, and I hadn’t been here in ages. “I thought something like this was appropriate.” Dad smiled as he opened the large door.

“I don’t remember the last time I ate here.” I stepped inside and was flooded with nostalgia. Large sconces adorned the walls with flickering lights to emulate candles. Small wooden tables were scattered about the room. Waiters dressed in black with red and green aprons bustled about smiling at patrons.

“How many?” The hostess greeted us.

“Three.” Dad nodded.

“This way.” She motioned for us to follow her. The smell of fresh mozzarella and tomato sauce flooded my senses as we were led to a table on the back side of the restaurant.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been here,” Bryson mused as he sat down on one side. Dad sat across from me and offered me a menu.

“I don’t know why I even look at this,” he mumbled. “I get the same thing every time.”

“Be adventurous.” I giggled. “Try something new.”

“New?” One brow raised. “What are you going to get?”

“I think I’m in the mood for deep dish.” The image of a huge pie filled with cheese and sausage filled my head. I closed my eyes and sighed.

“That sounds good. Why don’t we share? You can pick the toppings.”

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