Foolish Mortals

Chapter 3

ker-fuf-fle

kərˈfəfəl

noun

a state of noisy, confused activity

synonyms: ado, ballyhoo, blather, bluster, bobbery, bustle, disturbance

My good intentions for Jess were thwarted when Friday morning came and went, and Mr. Liam McGrumpy did not. I distracted myself from the situation by spending my Friday night pounding away at my keyboard, practicing songs for the band. I had a restless night, filled with dreams of a sharp blue gaze that could have been James McAvoy's eyes. Could have been. But if I was being honest with myself... they weren't.

Saturday morning saw me sweeping into work with the manic energy I always felt on a performance day, coupled with the somewhat frantic nature I got from overdosing on coffee. I arrived before Jess, and spent the time prepping with such furious speed that I got everything done and had plenty of time to pace back and forth, muttering to myself.

Jess and I worked through the morning in relative silence, both of us casting glances towards the clock, and sharing mutual looks of disappointment when nine o'clock came and went with no sign of Liam. Damn. Maybe I had lost him for good due to this nonsense. Nothing I could do about it now.

There was a lull in the action around ten o'clock, which was rare for a Saturday, and I found myself unable to contain my nervous energy, beginning to pace again. Jess sensed my mood and tucked herself into the corner to fiddle with her phone. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I jumped when my own phone started buzzing in my hand. I broke out into a huge smile when I saw Amy Morris's name pop up on my screen. The secretary for the Seattle Symphony conductor. This could only be good news.

"Hello, this is Jack," I answered in my overly cheery professional phone-voice.

"Jack, hey." Her soothing voice over the speakers immediately relaxed me, and I sank down onto a stool. "I hope you're free two weeks from now, because our second chair violist is going to be out. Looks like her baby's coming early."

"Oh my god yes, I am free," I blurted out all in a rush. "What's the schedule?"

"Just three rehearsals, Wednesday night, Thursday night and Friday afternoon. Performances Friday and Saturday night. Sound good?"

"Yeah, yes, of course." I swallowed hard. "It's Itzhak Perlman, right?"

"Yes, still Mr. Perlman," she said, sounding amused. "All of our string players are just as excited."

"I'm just grateful to have the opportunity, thank you so much for calling me." Holy crap. This was literally the best news I'd had in years. "Do you have the music?"

"Yes, can you meet me downtown somewhere at lunch? I can hand it over and give you a written schedule."

"Yes, of course. Do you know It's Bean Great? It's close to Benaroya hall," I said. "I work there, I get off at noon."

"No problem, just meet me at Benaroya. I'll be there anyway. Give me a call when you arrive."

"Will do, see you then. And thank you again." I took in a deep, shaky breath and hung up. My feet left the ground as I began leaping around like a bunny on steroids. "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit."

"You got it?" Jess leapt to her feet, bouncing with me. "Oh my god, I knew they would call you."

"Yeah, it's going to be viola, but still. Holy crap, I can't believe it." I was beaming uncontrollably now, and barely managed to stop jumping and started pacing again. "I wonder if I'll get to talk to him. Probably not. Doesn't matter."