Second Alto melody, with mixed alto voices in harmony

Kiko found Haley talking to Kendra backstage after Frau Talmadge and Winthrop had made their remarks. “Hey — you picked a great time to get handsy, girl.” Her broad smile removed any sting the words might have carried.

“What can I say? You’re hot, chicka!” Haley’s smile faded. “That was your mom, right? You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, the ice queen cameth. When I spotted her during Part 1, I could tell she wasn’t having a good time, but I didn’t look at her again. Who knows? Maybe she liked the rest of it.”

“For what it’s worth, you were fire tonight. Lifted us all up. If it would help, I’d be happy to tell your mom. And if it wouldn’t, I could always deck her.”

“Thanks, Haley. I mean that. I don’t care what Kendra says, you’re all right.”

“Nice try, troublemaker,” Kendra laughed. “I’ll vouch for you, too, but I’ll leave the physical violence to Haley. Hey, where’s Gabe?”

“She got a surprise, too — her Dad showed up,” Kiko replied.

“That’s a surprise?” Haley shook her head. “I mean, Jeez, my parents made the trek, and I’m just singing chorus.”

“Yeah, well . . . Gabe never came out to him.”

“He doesn’t know she’s a lesbian?”

“Goof!” Kiko gave Kendra a mock punch to the arm. “He doesn’t know she’s a she.”

“Well, speaking of lesbians,” Haley said.

“Were we?” asked Kiko.

“We were. Anyhow . . . Does your mom know about you and Gabe?”

“That’s the least of my problems.” Kiko smiled ruefully. “Ever since Momma caught Dad cheating and kicked him out, she hasn’t had any use for men. She’d be fine with Gabe.”

“Except for the fact that she landed that solo part,” Haley reminded her.

“Yeah. Except for that.”

Winthrop gave the signal, and a hundred plus hungry musicians moved en masse toward the exit and the promise of free food.

“I’d better go,” Haley said. “My folks are waiting for me. But I meant what I said, Kiko. If there’s anything I can say or do, I’m there for you.”

“Me, too,” Kendra said. “We got your back, girl. Believe it.”

“I . . . “ Kiko shook her head, surprised to find she had no quip to hide her feelings. “Thanks. Just . . . thanks. You’re the best!”

Interlude, Trumpet and Viola. Ent. Alto voices

“You must be Mrs. Agatsuma. I’m so glad you could fly out for the performance.”

Surprised out of her reverie, Reina Agatsuma turned to find she was being addressed by the woman in the cast who had done the conducting. Her name didn’t spring immediately to mind. “Ah . . . Mrs. . . . ?”

“Technically it’s ‘Doctor,’ but informally I tend to stick to ‘Frau Talmadge.’ I hope you enjoyed the performance. Your daughter was excellent.”

Agatsuma’s irritation flared. “If she was excellent, you would have chosen her as a soloist.”

The director’s welcoming smile faded. “As I explained on the telephone, your daughter’s abilities as a singer are equal to Ms. Carey’s. The soloist selections were based on my own interpretation of the music we were performing, and the overall sound of the group.”

“In other words, it’s all subjective.” Agatsuma flicked her wrist dismissively. “It doesn’t matter how talented Kiko is, or how hard she works. Only who she knows.”

Frau Talmadge cocked her head, considering how best to respond. “No-one succeeds in my world without talent and hard work. I can’t deny, of course, that subjective factors, connections, and pure luck affect which talented and hard-working people succeed. Is it different in your profession?”

Agatsuma was reminded, painfully, of her partner the rainmaker. The one who had the connections, or made them — and was demanding, harsh, and sometimes contemptuous of the people under him who actually did the work. “Not completely,” she agreed, with obvious reluctance. “But the odds seem worse in the field of music. How many graduates of this conservatory have performing careers? As opposed to teaching bored students in high school somewhere?”

“I’m the wrong person to ask that, I’m afraid, though I’m sure Administration keeps track. But teaching is important, too, Mrs. Agatsuma. I consider it an equal part of my career and my professional life.”

“Your choice, of course,” Agatsuma responded coolly. “But I have other hopes for Kiko. If you’ll excuse me, it looks like she’s arrived.” Without waiting for a reply, she walked toward the doors, where Kiko had just walked in with several other students.

Kiko looked at her warily — one of the habits that the elder Agatsuma found to be incredibly irritating. I’m your mother, idiot. It’s not like I’m going to eat you.

“I thought you weren’t coming, Momma.”

“Well I did. You could try to look a little grateful!”

“Of course I am. So, what did you think?”

“Not really my thing. It would have been better if I could have heard your voice. Hard to pick you out of a crowd.”

“We could hear her — and she anchored our whole section.”

Kiko quickly looked back at the tall Caucasian girl behind her. “Haley, thanks, it’s okay though.”

“It’s not, actually.” Agatsuma managed to keep her volume appropriate, but the ice in her tone was unmistakable. “I don’t know who you are, or think you are, but I don’t appreciate your butting into my private conversation with my daughter!”

“She’s my friend, Momma. Can you maybe try not to be a jerk to her?”

“Enough, Kiko! I need you to come back to my hotel now. I’ve got an early flight tomorrow, and you and I need to have a serious conversation about your future.” She gave a venomous look at the two girls flanking Kiko, then moved toward the door.

“No.”

She spun around. “You will obey me, daughter!”

For the first time in her memory, her daughter’s eyes showed no wariness or fear. But they held a degree of coldness she had only ever seen in a mirror. Kiko snapped, “I worked my ass off for this party, and I’m going to enjoy every frickin’ minute of it. If you want to go, go. I promise: No one here will miss you.”

Agatsuma was shocked, stunned, and so furious that she literally saw red. She took a step toward Kiko, when a hand pressed on her arm and a soft, but urgent, voice said, “please don’t.”

Saxophone with Alto voice; ent. Viola and Second Alto

John didn’t know how long they’d clung to each other, sharing the healing of the moment. He knew there was more work to do to rebuild their relationship, he just wasn’t sure where to start.

Gabe finally broke the silence, though she didn’t release him or even open her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Dad. I should have told you about all of this.”

“You did. Tried to, anyway.” He kissed the hair on top of her head, though he knew it couldn’t be hers. “I didn’t want to hear it, and that’s on me.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you. I know I’m not . . . not the son you hoped for.”

He chuckled. “‘Man plans, God laughs.’ Remember that one?”

“That was Mom.”

“Sure was. But Gabe, it’s the best description of being a parent I ever heard. I had such a clear idea of who you were going to be, I couldn’t see who you actually were.” Gently, he moved his hands to her shoulders and held her in place while he stepped back, forcing her to look at him. “Tonight . . . when I heard you up there, sounding just like your mom come down from heaven, I couldn’t help seeing it.”

“Lose a son, gain a daughter?” Gabe’s voice was wistful.

“I guess maybe. Thought I’d be telling myself that when you got married someday, but there’s me and my plans again.”

“Oh, gosh!” Gabe blushed. “There really is so much I want to tell you. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do!”

“We do, but unless I misunderstood . . . I think we’ve got a reception to go to?”

Gabe giggled. “I wasn’t sure how I was going to talk you into that . . . I know it’s not your thing.”

“Yeah, no. Not normally. But you’re the star. I can put up with a pack of suits and snobs if I get to play the proud papa!”

“Oh, stop! I’m just one singer, even if I had a few solos!”

John tightened his grip. “I was there, Gabe. I’m no musician, but even I know that’s not true.”

“If we’re going to this reception, you’d better not make me cry again!”

“Oh, we’re going. But, ah . . . .” John looked embarrassed.

“What?”

“I kind of never imagined asking you this, but . . . do you know how to fix your makeup? It’s gotten sort of messed up.”

“Oh ffffffff . . . . !” Gabe managed to stop herself from swearing, just in time. Catching the gleam in her father’s eye, she giggled. “I can manage the basics, and that’s going to have to do. Give me a second?”

“No worries, I could use a restroom myself. No offense, but that was a long piece of music!”

“Tell me about it,” she said with feeling. “We’ve gotta drink like a gallon of water beforehand to keep our voices hydrated!”

When they’d finished their business and grabbed their coats, Gabe took John’s arm and guided him toward the building where the reception was being held. The two-day-old snow glistened like refined sugar in the reflected light of the lanterns that lined the walkways.

“Dad, there’s someone I have to tell you about, ‘cuz you're going to meet her.”

John immediately read between the lines. “A girlfriend? So . . . you aren’t . . . ?”

“Into guys? No. It doesn’t work like that. At least, it didn’t for me.”

“Okay. Sorry.” He chuckled. “Go easy on me, will you? This is all ‘brave new world’ stuff. I’ll try to keep up.”

“Kiko should have sung the solo tonight,” Gabe said, at once very serious. “I was there for her audition, and she was great. But she made the director listen to me. Made me audition for it, too. Because she believed in me . . . because she . . . .”

Gabe stopped walking. “God, I’m an idiot!”

“What did I miss?”

“She said she did it because my voice was right for the part, but . . . but that’s wrong.”

“Gabe, like I said before, I was there, remember? I heard you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just . . . Kiko’s every bit as good. My vocal interpretation was closer to what the Director was looking for, but a different director could easily have picked Kiko.”

John started to protest, but Gabe kept going. “We compete here; it’s what we’re supposed to do. And Kiko’s under a lot of pressure from her mom to do well. I mean, a lot of pressure. . . .”

John nodded, suddenly understanding. “So you’re saying she did it out of love.”

Gabe nodded, unable to speak.

“Then I owe her one,” John said.

Gabe’s expression was all the question she could muster.

“I needed to hear you tonight. Needed it bad.” John looked at his newly-minted daughter, so vulnerable, once again on the verge of tears, and thought, Okay, old man . . . time to saddle up and remember how to be a parent! “Suppose you tell me about her.”

So she did. They resumed their walk and arrived at the building where the reception was being held. Gabe was still going on about Kiko as they dropped off their coats and headed for the open doors to the banquet hall.

But she stopped in mid-sentence and the blood drained from her face. “Oh, no!” She sprinted forward, and John charged after her, his brain trying to make sense of the scene that had caused her such distress.

Four women, just inside the door. Three, probably in their twenties, facing an older woman. The girls look upset. The woman just looks pissed.

The older woman practically snarled, “You will obey me, daughter!”

The shortest of the three girls said something in response; the words didn’t register with John, though the tone was defiant and cold. The older woman moved towards the one who had spoken; it looked like she was going to slap her.

Gabe got there first. Placing a hand on the older woman’s arm, she said, “please don’t.”

The woman spun around. “Ah. If it isn’t the star of the show,” she sneered.

John’s every instinct was to jump in, to protect his daughter, and to give the arrogant woman a lesson in manners. But Gabe stopped him — stopped everyone — raising both hands in a placating gesture. “Please! Please! Everyone, stop! Before any more damage is done!”

“I am leaving,” the older woman announced.

“Please, Mrs. Agatsuma. Give me two minutes?”

“Why?”

“Because I just got my father back tonight, after twelve years, and I don’t want to see Kiko lose her mother. She loves you. She is one of the best musicians here, and she’s the first to say it’s all because of you. Because you’ve pushed her to be the best.”

John was suddenly aware that he had been leaning forward, weight on the balls of his feet, ready to spring into action. He eased back instead, waiting to see whether Gabe’s plea would have any effect. Do I know this person? This “daughter?” The Gabe I knew would never have done anything like this!

The woman pointed back at her daughter without looking. “If that’s what love looks like, I don’t want to see hate!”

“People say things in the heat of the moment, they maybe don’t mean. Kiko and I have had some moments like that. Kiko’s temper . . . well. She says she comes by it honestly?”

Ooh, watch yourself, John thought. Bear baiting only works if you’ve got the long guns behind you. But there were so many emotions warring for control of the woman’s face that John couldn’t get a read on her.

She flashed a calculating look at her daughter, then at Gabe. “You . . . and Kiko?”

Gabe raised her chin. “Yes.”

The girl — Kiko — finally spoke; her voice sounded raw. “Momma? I’m sorry. I can’t leave right now, but what I said . . . Gabe’s right. I didn’t mean it. I really wish you would stay.”

Mrs. Agatsuma was still looking at Gabe, weighing what she had said. Finally she turned and gave Kiko her full attention. “Alright. We still need to talk, but I agree, this is not the time. I will see you back home next week.”

“Will you stay?”

“No, daughter, but thank you for asking. I do have an early plane to catch.” She stepped forward and gave Kiko a hug. It was brief and it was brittle, but . . . a hug nonetheless.

Maybe there IS something I can do here. “Mrs. Agatsuma?” He waited until she looked his way. “I’m John Carey, Gabe’s dad. I can give you a ride to your hotel, if you’d like.”

She gave him a once over; John knew what she would see wouldn’t be much to her liking. “Thank you, but I don’t want to pull you away. I can take an Uber.”

He nodded. “Of course. Though, if you’re willing, I’d like to have a couple minutes to talk to the mother of Gabe’s girlfriend?” Jesus. It’s screwed up that that sounds so normal!

She shot him a sharp look, then nodded. “Okay, yes. That might be helpful.”

Gabe’s eyes, full of love and gratitude, were enough to melt his heart all over again.

“Will you be back?” she asked.

“Maybe at the end, if there’s time. You enjoy the party now, okay?”

“I love you, Dad.”

He reached up and touched her arm — so smooth and soft! — “Me too. See you soon.” Then he followed Kiko’s mom to retrieve their coats.

— To be continued

Author’s note: A bit of a short one today, but bring your seat backs and tray tables into the full, upright and locked position, ‘cuz the plane lands tomorrow!

For information about my other stories, please check out my author's page.