Well, this was an interesting afternoon! I don’t think I will ever be able to say that violence is never the answer again, for it seems to have ended well today. To be fair, it was not at all intentional, and no one was seriously hurt, thankfully.
But I am well ahead of myself. This afternoon Anna had an invitation from a friend to attend a summer concert. She had never been to an orchestral concert before, and so she was excited for the chance, as was I. As it turned out, Anna and Monica were early, and so they went for a walk outside the concert hall. At the same time, one of the players was very late, and he was running perhaps faster than he should have been with his large instrument.
I claim no credit for the precise timing—this was all done by the Father. Just at the moment that Anna came around the corner, the bassist dropped his keys and stopped short, letting his instrument roll forward on its momentum. I wasn’t fast enough to warn Anna of the sudden obstacle in her path, and so when it struck her knees, she tumbled forward, falling hard onto her head and arm.
“Oh, my God,” Monica cried, while the bassist stared in horror.
Anna rolled onto her side, groaning, and looked anxiously up. “Is it okay?” she asked. “I didn’t want to hurt your instrument.” Blood was beginning to trickle down her face.
Shaking free of his astonishment, the bassist crouched next to her. “Forget the instrument—I could throw the stupid thing down the stairs in that case and it’d be fine. God, I am so, so sorry. Are you okay?”
“Of course she isn’t okay, look, she’s bleeding!” Monica screeched, digging in her purse for a packet of tissues.
“I’m so sorry,” the bassist stammered, throwing open the errant case and beginning to dig under the huge instrument. “I was supposed to be at rehearsal twenty minutes ago, but I left my bow behind and had to go back and get it, and then there wasn’t any parking left so I had to jog half a block—there it is.” He pulled out a small towel and held it out to Anna. “Here, press that to your head.”
Anna was not, in fact, hurt beyond a few scratches and a knot on her head. She was a little bewildered, and the whole situation seemed very funny to her. She began to laugh. “I’m fine,” she managed to say.
Worried now that she was concussed, the bassist tried to apply the recommended pressure himself. Both women waved him away, Monica with irritation, Anna meaning to reassure.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, more clearly. “If you’re late, then you should go—”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, so firmly that both Anna and Monica blinked at him. “It was my stupid ass that did this and I’ll be the one on the line for it, but I’m not going until I know that you’re okay.”
This soothed Monica’s indignation, a little. In her turn, Anna was suddenly noticing how handsome he was behind his glasses and his anxiety. This caught my attention, and I started taking a closer look at his aura. His worry for her was not entirely based on guilt, and it was clear to me that he was truly determined to fix his mistake.
He glanced around. “Here, come on inside,” he said, closing and latching his case again. “I know the stage manager will have a first aid kit. We’ll get you cleaned up.” He put his hand under Anna’s unhurt elbow and hefted her to her feet, and she made note of how strong he was, despite his thin frame. But of course he would be, given his chosen instrument.
I sent Monica to open the door, and in that moment, I drew his attention to Anna’s face, which, while it could not be said to be pretty when speckled with blood, was still touched with laughter and forgiveness.
“I’m Kyle,” he said, bemused.
“Anna,” she said.
Shaking his head, Kyle brought both women into the concert hall. The entrance they had used let them into the backstage area, just behind where the orchestra was having a last-minute rehearsal. Anna refused to go onto the stage, worried about causing a stir, so Kyle settled her and Monica in a corner and ran off to find the stage manager. They came back together, and the stage manager, a balding man in shorts, asked somewhat impatiently if Anna wanted him to call anyone. When she said no, he said, “Then I hope you’ll understand if we get back to the stage—”
“I’m going to help her, Mark,” Kyle said, already digging into the first aid kit. “Could you tell the Maestro for me, please?”
“Kyle—”
Kyle ignored him. “Come on, ladies, there’s a bathroom just down here.”
As soon as they were out of earshot, Monica muttered, “What an asshole.”
“Yeah, but he kind of has to be to wrangle sixty-odd musicians into their places on time,” Kyle said fairly.
The bathroom was tiny, but there was a chair just outside that Kyle pulled into the room for Anna so she could rest her arm on the edge of the sink while he rinsed out the scratches. Monica, who was beginning to get a hint of the subtext, stood back and let him do the work. He was very gentle, and Anna watched his face as he worked.
“It’s really okay, you know,” she said after a minute.
He rolled his eyes. “Says the girl who is bleeding from multiple places. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
“Could’ve happened to anyone.”
“Yeah, but it usually happens to me.” Kyle glanced up at her and smiled as he went back to work. “This is not how I like to introduce myself to pretty women.”
Anna laughed. “Man, you must be feeling guilty if you’re calling me pretty now.”
“You are, though,” he said, looking up and holding her gaze a bit longer this time. “I’d have to try a lot harder to—no, wait, I’m just going to stop right there.”
They both laughed, and he started to apply bandages all up and down her arm.
“Maybe you can make it up to me,” Anna said. “A cup of coffee? If you don’t have somewhere else to be after the concert.”
“In fact, I don’t,” Kyle said with a smile. “I will definitely get you a cup of coffee, Miss Anna, but feel free to hold this over my head in order to get more than that out of me.”
“Mm, that’s a dangerous suggestion.”
They would have flirted more, but there was a knock on the door then. The director had heard about the accident, and, being a more gracious person than the stage manager, had come to check on Anna. He was quite kind, even offering better seats to them, or else a refund if she didn’t feel up to staying at the concert. Anna was uncertain about this—she was starting to get a headache—but for Monica’s sake, and because she wanted to hear Kyle play, she decided to stay.
She enjoyed the concert immensely, but by the time it was over she didn’t feel quite up to going anywhere else. “But you’re not off the hook,” she told Kyle when he found her behind the building afterward, and she handed him her phone.
“Good,” he said, putting in his phone number. “I didn’t want to be off the hook.” He handed her back the phone, his smile fading. “I really am sorry. I hope you feel better soon.”
“I’m sure I will,” she said. “I’ll keep you posted.” She started away, then glanced back. “Despite the circumstances, it was nice to meet you, Kyle.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t bring my bass to coffee!”
On that lighthearted note, they separated, but both of them were thinking about the other for some time. It is a unique beginning, but not a bad one. Kyle is an ethical person, willing to accept consequences to do what he feels is right. He is also creative, and Anna is attracted to him. It is a good start. There is no telling if their beliefs or their backgrounds match, but I have started with less before. I think it is worthwhile to follow this through and see where it goes.