Starting Position

Chapter 12

The winter themed choir concert at Canterbury Retirement Center went about as well as it could have – up until the very end, at least.

We started our recital at six pm sharp, having been told the residents had already had dinner. Management had set us up in the recreation hall where we hung the few props we brought: some silver streamers, white puff material to layer around our feet, and dozens of hand-made paper snowflakes. It looked like a Kindergarten winter recital, but the occupants did not appear to be discouraged.

They filtered in one-by-one, watching us both excitedly and curiously before taking seats in chairs placed before our group. Many of those in the audience watched us intently, like if they looked away, we would suddenly disappear, or they would miss part of our concert. In the last five minutes, I had made and kept eye contact with nearly half the residents present.

One woman called out, "Is this a Christmas concert? Christmas was two months ago," to which Jerome replied politely, "No, ma'am. This is a winter themed concert to celebrate the winter months."

It did seem strange to be holding a winter themed concert in February, but I had already let that thought slide for this long.

"Have you any eggnog?" another member exclaimed. Just as politely, Jerome stated that we did not, in fact, come bearing eggnog.

A few more residents entered the hall to take open seats, and, not a moment too soon, the lights dimmed. The two Aficionados then strode before us and led us through the eight-song concert. Lydia stepped forward to sing her solo and was met with a malicious glare from Carver. I felt like chuckling but managed to hold it together. Before I knew it, our forty-five-minute program was completed, and we were awarded a very mediocre applause from the audience, some of whom sauntered towards the exit just as the lights came on.

With the large hall suddenly illuminated, a familiar face appeared in the back corner: my father. I blinked my eyes rapidly to ensure I wasn't imagining his face floating in the audience. Sure enough, after countless blinks and a wipe of the eyes, my father remained. I noticed someone else sitting next to him, a woman around his age with sweeping blonde hair and a kind, dainty expression. My mind attempted to rationalize her as a resident's relative who had come for the concert however, that became more difficult to do as the seats around them were unoccupied. I then noticed her hand was resting gently on my father's thigh.

My stomach twisted into a knot, but before I could do anything, a woman with snow white hair and sparkling aqua eyes emerged before me.

"Hello, dear, what an excellent concert! I just loved that song – what is it – that Simon and Garfunkel song."

"'A Hazy Shade of Winter,'" I stated, darting my eyes to the far corner of the room and seeing both my father and Sarah chatting with a few residents.

"Yes, oh, yes! That's the one. How lovely." Her face was beaming as she reached out to grasp my hand.

I forced my face to relax. "It's one of my favorites." And it was. Out of our entire set list, I enjoyed singing it the most.

When the last of the residents had evacuated the hall, Jerome and Amy, after congratulating and thanking us, dismissed the choir group for the evening. It was then my father, Sarah in tow, steered in my direction.

"Ell, that was lovely," my father said, reaching a hand and placing it on my arm. "Really."

My heart was shuddering in my chest, and I could feel heat rising to my cheeks. Deep down, I knew who was standing right next to him, but I was far from ready to accept it. I put my wall up and dismantled my emotions, preparing to get through this experience as unscathed as possible.