Page 144 of The Wrong Sister
I move to give him a hug when Noah’s voice comes through the speaker.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re about to begin. Please take your seats.”
Giving Jeff a quick hug accompanied by a confused look, I glance around. “What’s going on?” I whisper into his ear.
“Hold on, kid.” He gives me a strong squeeze before letting go. “I gotta get ready. We’ll talk after, yes?”
A nod in response is all I can manage. He rushes away when Martin speed walks to us while his attentive eyes run over my body. “Woman, you just set a new trend. Before we even sold the last one. I can’t wait to see it going places.” Without waiting for my reply, he envelops me into his tight hug. Then just as quickly he drops me and grabs Bea, who looks slightly confused to say the least.
“Hello, sister. Bea, right?” He pulls away and places his open palm on his chest. “I’m mighty Martin. Pleasure to meet you.”
Bea looks like a deer spooked in headlights. Then sheslowly starts moving backward. Not looking where she’s going, she bumps into Noah’s chest. His arms grab her shoulders.
“Where are you running to, little mouse?”
Not sure I hear the words because of how quiet they are, but I definitely can read his lips. His nostrils are flared while eyes are slightly hooded. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s in a heaven of hate. At that, Bea’s eyes light up with defiance as she steps away from him with squared back shoulders.
“I am not, Neanderthal.” Dramatically wiping the spot on her shoulder just touched by Noah, she throws her loose hair back. “Where is our table, Martin?”
Martin’s curious eyes dart between the two of them before his face stretches with a wide smile. “This way.” He gestures toward the stage, continuing to ogle them.
Noah mumbles something else to Bea who shoots him an angry glare and follows Martin. We’re sitting at the first table next to the stage. I mean, I know if Jeff’s performing, he can get any tickets, but I bet these tickets could be sold for a pretty penny. So I’m not sure how Bea and I ended up in the first row.
While people are finding their tables, they do the unthinkable—stop byourtable. Saying how gorgeous my dress is and how much they want to get my old one. I just keep nodding my thanks, not understanding what’s happening.
Soon, when everyone’s seated, a man in a black tuxedo shows up on the stage. The room goes dark just as multiple spotlights focus on his figure.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming here and bringing your fat wallets with you.” Chuckles go through the room as the man waits them out. “It’s for a good cause.” He brings his finger up in the air. “Today, we’ve gathered here tocelebrate many things. First, we have someone very important here.” The room quiets. “We have someone who can make your souls sing. Who can play your heartstrings like no other, and someone we haven’t heard in many years. Today, we are fortunate to hear the sax brought to life by none other than Jeffrey Bernard!”
The man’s voice rises at the end, and the spotlights move to the side of the scene where, nestled in a musician groove, are a few people dressed in evening gowns and fashionable suits. With Jeff standing in the middle.
His face is shining. I see his eyes welling with tears even from here. People start clapping, and I jump to my feet, clapping louder than everyone else. I don’t know any other human who would deserve this moment more than him. I clap so enthusiastically, my palms hurt. Jeff wipes his eyes discreetly and gives a small wave to the audience.
When people don’t stop clapping, he smiles shyly and gestures for people to stop. It takes us a few moments to calm down, but when we are done, they start playing.
Immediately my heart starts singing along with the music. I’ve always loved jazz. To me, it’s such a beautifully chaotic music that speaks to the strings inside my body. When Jeff closes his eyes and takes a different tune, my eyes well with tears. This song is sad. It’s also happy. It makes me feel sorry for myself while being happy with what I am. It makes me laugh. It makes me cry.
It makes me feel.
I also feel a hot stare on the side of my face. Following the intensity of the feeling, I find Ezra standing behind the curtain, looking at me. No, not looking. Staring. Consuming me with his eyes. Like he missed me. Like he wants to touch me as much as I want to touch him.
Then I blink, and he’s gone.
Looking away, I try to focus on Jeff and this beautifulmoment of his life, but my eyes keep going back to the spot where Ezra just was, in hopes that he’ll be back. He’s not though.
Jeff and the musicians play a few more songs before they all stand up in line and bow. The audience erupts with applause, giving the band the recognition they deserve.
The same announcer pops back on the stage.
“Wow.” He places his hand to his chest. “I’m so ready to go and see my partner after that. I’ve always found saxophones to be sexy.” A few light laughs ripple through the audience before he continues. “Speaking of sexy. Are you ready to get your wallets out and bid some money for charity?”
A soft chorus of yays is not loud enough, so the man tilts his head to the side. “That was weak. We’re here for a good cause, people. Let’s make sure we feel our karma getting good vibes. Are you ready to empty your wallets?” he asks louder this time, and the audience matches his tone. “That’s what I’m talking about! Now, all the money raised today with your help will go toward feeding the homeless and creating different opportunities to change their lives for the better.” He raises his voice again, and people start clapping. “Good! That’s what I’m talking about! Now, shall we begin?”
People supporting Jeff so wholeheartedly and the same people being so enthusiastic about helping those who need it makes me question my initial assessment of said people.Maybe I am the judgmental one here?
After meeting Jeff and being homeless myself, I feel a special connection to this event. Not having any money of my own doesn’t stop me from wondering if it would be such a bad idea to donate some of Ezra’s money from the card that’s been burning a hole in my pocket.
From what I’m able to gather, everyone has donated items for the auction. Some of them are flying away for tens of thousands of dollars. A honeymoon trip to the Maldives. Afirst edition ofPride and Prejudice. A shirt Elvis wore at one of his concerts.
