Chords that Bind Ch. 14: Sonata

"I forgot you were abroad. That's everything you should need from me. She shouldn't have any trouble getting back to the States."

"Yes. Josh. Thank you."

"Alright James. I'm happy to help. Take care."

With that Josh hung up.

James dropped his phone and gazed out to the horizon. He thought he'd feel elated when this was sorted. All he felt now was a bit crestfallen. Cecilia was going to go home. He'd get her a plane ticket once the documents were in. It was as he planned this in his head that he realized he'd never see her again. He would still be off touring, and there was no reason to delay returning her home.

It was probably for the best.

Mae walked up to James looking tanned and radiant in her sleek one-piece swimsuit. "Why the frown James?"

"Oh, don't mind me. I just had some good news from back home."

"It doesn't look like you had good news."

"Well, it's part of what you told me to do. I'm working on forgiving myself, and the last piece just fell into place for me to keep a promise I made, a promise that's going to make things right."

Little drops of seawater coated her body from wading into the surf. "All right James," She grabbed his hand and pulled him to follow her into the rolling waves again. "It's good that you're getting some sun. You look much less English now, but you didn't come all this way just to look at the Pacific."

James smiled. It was an odd, bittersweet feeling. He knew he was doing the right thing, and took comfort in it. He didn't know how long he was standing with his feet at the edge of the beach. Mae noticed his far off look, and took matters into her own hands. She splashed James full in the face and broke his trance.

The cold salty water jolted James; he was momentarily annoyed. He saw Mae laughing and preparing to splash him again. She was so vibrant and alive. He avoided another attack by throwing himself into the next breaking wave. Mae approved.

James tossed his head back and pushed his wet hair out of his eyes. Mae was showing a different side of herself, and he felt lucky to have her friendship. For a passing breath, James thought that maybe Mae could make him happy. She pushed him again, forcing him to give up on his internal seriousness. She gave him a wet, salty hug and started laughing at him.

"What?"

"You've got seaweed in your hair, James."

He felt behind his head and sure enough, removed a long length of kelp. When he looked back to Mae, she was already back under the waves. Before he went to catch her, James nodded to himself. Mae was a wonderful friend, and a good pianist, but there was nothing more there. The water lost its initial chill, and James leaned back, bobbing like a cork in the water, enjoying the sun, and letting his heart lighten, if only ever so slightly.

This was better.

***

Cecilia pulled on an Under Armor turtleneck, some swishy track pants, and tightened the laces on her trainers. Her clothes purposely covered as much skin as possible. The charcoal grey colour wasn't eye catching, and she didn't put makeup on. She told Dr. Shriz she'd go and write something. It was probably good to write. But she didn't want to face Sebastian. She ignored his phone calls and told Clara to make excuses for her. Sebastian even lingered outside the yoga studio the corps frequented hoping to "run into" Cecilia again. The drab clothes Cecilia chose today were another layer of mental armour.

Cecilia surprised Clara when she responded in the affirmative to come with her to the "Streetcar" auditions. Clara invited Cecilia constantly. For weeks, Cecilia put her off. Therapy was having a good effect on Cecilia, Clara thought. She smiled at the tepid improvement.

When they walked into the studio, Sebastian immediately noticed Cecilia accompanying Clara. Cecilia looked through him, almost as if he wasn't there. He almost called out to her, but Alicia, Gabrielle, and Sophie swarmed around her. Sebastian wanted to avoid an audience this time.

Cecilia settled in her usual corner with her friends' spare toe shoes and foam rollers.

When the piano player started the music for their warm-ups, Cecilia opened her blank notebook. Instead of poetry about dance, all Cecilia could think about was how inferior this piano player was compared to James.

So she wrote about James. She wrote about how much she missed him. She admitted that her infatuation with him hadn't gone away. Scrawled across a few pages of her notebook was a confession. She even wrote a comparison between James and Sebastian. The dancer paled in comparison to the pianist at every turn. Her obsession with James grew even as his distance from her did.

The act of writing it out made Cecilia raw. She felt incredibly breakable and when the piano stopped, signaling the dancers' first break, she came back to herself. Sebastian sauntered toward her. The lines of his body were exquisite, but besides a touch of feminine appreciation for his form, Cecilia felt nothing for him.

***

Clara and Cecilia came home arm-in-arm. Clara felt very good about her dancing today, even if she was exhausted. Abe had something of a buffet of take-out spread across the butcher-block island. "Help yourselves ladies," he leaned back casually in his chair at the dinner table plucking at some steamed dumplings with chopsticks.

"How did today go?"

"Quite well, I think." Clara answered. "But I'm famished."

"Excellent. When will you find out?"

"Soon."

"Well, I know Cecilia and I have our fingers crossed for you. Isn't that right Cecilia?"

"Yes, of course."

Abe's mobile rang, interrupting Cecilia. He was going to ignore the call, but it was from James. "I'm sorry. I should take this... Hello? James?"

Cecilia's heart leapt to her throat as she heard Abe speak James' name.

"Yes. She's right here." Abe handed her the phone.

"Cecilia?"

"Yes?" She was excited to hear his voice again.

"I hope you're well?"

"Yes. You?"

"Fine thanks. Listen, I've got some good news. Josh called me a bit ago. Keep an eye out for the post: He got all your documents sorted. Your passport, visa, everything. They should be in the mail this week or next."

"Oh—that's great!" But Cecilia felt the bubble of joy shrinking rapidly.

"Yes. So start looking at airline tickets. You'll be back in Philadelphia soon! I told you I'd keep my promise."

"I knew you would. That's—great news! Thank you."

"I just wanted to be the one to tell you the good news. Would you mind handing me back to Abe? There are some logistics I'll need him to work out for you since I'm abroad."

"Yes. Of course."

Cecilia's spirits sunk further. She heard Abe taking directions to order her airline ticket to Philadelphia, and realized that James was handing her off to Abe. Now that he kept his promise he was done with her.

On the other end of the call, James shook in a bout of nervousness and relief. With this phone call he'd fulfill his promise. Soon, Cecilia would be back where she belonged. This was the right thing to do.

Abe assured James that they'd take care of the rest of the arrangements. James took a breath to prepare to end the call when Abe stopped him.

"Wait James. Cecilia wants to say goodbye."

"Oh. Alright then." James had specifically been avoiding saying goodbye.

"James?"

That was one of the few times she'd said his name. He gripped the phone tighter.

"I'm here Cecilia."

"Does this mean . . .? Won't I see you again?"

James didn't prepare for a tearful goodbye. "Don't you want to be getting back home?"

He wasn't sure he could handle seeing her again before sending her off.

Clara, it appeared, had grabbed the phone from Cecilia's hand. "James? Hi! Aren't you going to be in Philadelphia soon?"

"Yes, hello Clara . . ." James felt exasperation. Couldn't he break his own heart without everyone interfering? "In about three weeks. I'm in Australia at the moment. We still have to hop the Pacific and perform in California and Seattle."

"That's perfect then. We'll have Cecilia fly home while you're in Philadelphia, James. That way you can be there to make sure she gets back safe." Clara kept her face neutral as Abe raised an eyebrow at her.

The idea did have merit. It tugged at the concern James had for Cecilia, so he agreed. "I suppose I can manage that. I'll send you the exact dates and hopefully you can book a flight, and by then all of Cecilia's documents should be in hand.

"Perfect. Send the dates, and I'll make sure Abe and I settle the rest of the details. Bye James."

Cecilia cheered slightly with the prospect of seeing James again. Abe wore a fixed smile. Clara suddenly realized she had taken responsibility for seeing Cecilia off on the first leg of her journey home. Her enthusiasm for getting James and Cecilia together chilled. Once she got Cecilia on a plane that would be it.

In the intervening months, no one had actually spoken about keeping in touch after Cecilia was back in America. It made sense that Cecilia would want to put this chapter behind her. It would be wrong to intrude, but Clara was feeling like she'd be saying goodbye to a sister. After almost a year together, Cecilia would no longer be part of their lives. It would be selfish to be anything other than excited though. "Abe, how about we open a bottle of bubbly? Abe?"

Abe seemed distracted. "Oh, oh yes, that's a capital idea."

***

As she lay in bed that night, Cecilia's whole being felt heavy. She knew she should feel relief or gratitude, even excitement. Anxiety weighed on her, preventing her from sleeping. Cecilia had been in London for nearly a year. After she recovered and came to trust the people in this house, Cecilia realized she settled in easily here.

Now she was going back home. James' townhome in the posh part of London was like a vacation resort. She didn't have to worry about the bills, her student loans, or her job. James had maintained her lease while she was in London, but surely she'd have to make her own rent again.

Cecilia would need to find a new job. Working late nights at a bar in Philly seemed dangerous, wontedly reckless even, after what happened to her. Could she find some other work?

The truth that scared her the most was that she would be living alone again.

That was when her mother's voice returned after a long sabbatical. The doubt sown from years of hearing that she wasn't good enough bombarded Cecilia's sense of self.

It's about time they got rid of you. You were only ever a burden for everyone. They were nice only because they felt bad for you. You're pitiful and don't belong with them. Did you think James had any real interest in you? If he did, he got over it as soon as he realized what a slut you are.

Eventually, Cecilia cried herself to sleep.

***

Cecilia nervously checked the clock. She left the townhouse at the right time, and then proceeded to wander into a café. Her appointment with Dr. Shirz started in ten minutes, but Cecilia had no intention of going.

True to her word, she'd been writing. In fact, the notebook Dr. Shirz gave her was filled with things Cecilia wrote. But she knew the doctor would want to read her writing, and Cecilia couldn't stand the idea of the cool woman reading it.

Since James' called to tell her that her papers would shortly be in order, Cecilia quietly fell into a depression.

James and Abe, who had saved her from a terrible fate, seemed to be ready to put her behind them. And Clara who had been nothing but sweet and understanding was also preparing to help her on her way and out of their lives. She knew that they didn't owe her anything, but it hurt to know that she'd been little more than an obligation to them. Cecilia's chest frequently felt tight, and she avoided Clara and Abe because she nearly always felt ready to cry at the prospect of leaving.

And the things she felt about James . . . They were unreasonable, unhealthy, and unwelcome. She wouldn't get to hear him play again. The thought made her unbelievably sad.

She also had no prospects awaiting her in Philadelphia. And fewer friends. Clara's overly-helpful socializing meant that Cecilia would be leaving more friends behind in England then she'd have to welcome her home.

Her best-case scenario to support herself was to find another restaurant job and hope she could make friends with the rag-tag members of the culinary underbelly. Cecilia remembered how poorly she fit in at her last restaurant job. It had been a pretty high volume restaurant, but she wouldn't be able to return. She'd need to start from scratch...

With all these reflections, it was no wonder her notebook was filled with worry, self-doubt, anxiousness, and longing. Cecilia couldn't bear to think about sharing these things with Dr. Shriz.

So she skipped her weekly appointments. For the past two weeks, Cecilia left the house and ducked into a café for the hour she was supposed to be seeing her therapist. She simply couldn't endure the doctor's stare. She also knew the doctor didn't believe her answers about many of the things she was asked.

In another week and a half it wouldn't matter. Clara booked her on a flight for Philadelphia last night. Her documents had arrived in the post a week ago. The only reason she wasn't on an airliner right now was because James was touring the west coast of the United States and he wouldn't be in Philly for another two weeks. Cecilia ordered a coffee and watched passersby though the window.

***

Mae gave James one more fond hug. They each had a wheeled suitcase with them and a carry-on bag slung over their shoulders. "Take care of yourself James. I should be in London sometime in the spring, but I'll keep in touch."

"I will, Mae. Thank you for everything. I mean it. Playing with you has been the redeeming highlight of this tour."

"Thank you for that James. I hope you find what you're looking for."

James didn't know how Mae knew to say things like that. Be he hoped to find the object of his mysterious quest too.

"Call me when you land." He replied.

With that Mae went to board her flight back to Japan, and James walked to the other end of O'Hare to catch his flight to Philadelphia.

James had had a few weeks to steel himself for this trip. In roughly three hours, he would be at Philadelphia International Airport to receive Cecilia and see her home. It was only James' pride that spurred him on to keep the promise he made to Cecilia. But he was a man of his word, and he wouldn't compromise his honour over a trivial thing like his fractured heart, after all, carrying on in silent desperation is the English way.

***

Clara was uneasy about all of this. She suspected Abe felt the same. He'd been all business and matter-of-fact as they organized the logistics for Cecilia's departure. Clara did her best to remain cheerful as she helped Cecilia pack the belongings she'd accumulated over the past year of living with them.

Cecilia seemed ready to put the whole affair behind her. When Clara suggested giving Cecilia one of her garment bags to pack the sapphire evening gown she'd worn to the Alice premier, Cecilia tried to demure, saying she should probably leave the gown behind all together. At that point Clara insisted, and Cecilia begrudgingly accepted yet another parting gift. All of the clothes, shoes, books, and even Clara's old purple iPod were packed away with vague mutterings that she'd need clothes once she was back home, and she should have the playlists of music that she and Clara bonded over, as well as recordings of James' performances.

Through a monumental emotional effort on her part, Cecilia managed to hide all the hurt she felt as Abe and Clara prepared to be rid of her. Clara came home a week ago after rehearsal with the exciting news that she'd landed the part of Stella in Streetcar. While she was wanted to celebrate with Clara and Abe, her heart wasn't in it. She'd never see Clara perform it, or see Clara dance again for that matter.

Cecilia was used to people saying goodbye tearfully, with empty promises to remain in touch and meet again soon. But Abe and Clara made no suchpromises, and Cecilia followed their lead. Perhaps it was kinder this way, Cecilia thought bitterly. At least they aren't pretending they'd miss her.

The last few days before Cecilia's departure from Heathrow were eerily quiet in the townhouse. It seemed they'd run out of small talk, and no one knew what to say about the past year they'd spent together. Cecilia continued to pretend to see her therapist right up until the end.

Neither Abe nor Clara wanted to pressure Cecilia into revealing how her therapy was going, but they didn't really want her to leave. The night before her flight, Clara practically begged Abraham to convince Cecilia to stay. It had been at Abe's insistence that Clara refrained from telling Cecilia that she'd be missed, that she wanted to keep in touch, that they would come and visit.

"Clara, she made the best of her time with us, and I liked having her here too, but she seems ready to put this behind her. James decided that she needs to be able to start a fresh chapter, and I think there's wisdom to that. You—we—have to let her go. She doesn't want to stay here with all these memories. We need to respect that."

"Abe, it's not right though. We're a family now. It feels wrong. You've said yourself James was being thick about this!"

"I did. And I also said it wasn't our place to interfere where James and Cecilia are concerned." His voice was firm and Clara knew he was ready to end the discussion.

She pushed him anyway.

"But—don't tell me you'd handle it like this. I've never heard her talk about any friends or family in America. What if she's all alone there? We're abandoning her! She could just stay with us. She's got her papers now." Clara tried to be persuasive.

"Clara, it doesn't matter how I would handle this. It's between James and Cecilia." Abe sighed, familiar with the fierce look on his wife's face. "James promised her he'd send her back home, and she accepted his offer of help. She never asked for anything else. She didn't try to keep dating that tosser from the company... it looks to me as if she wants to go back. That's enough. If she's your friend you'll be happy that she's returning home where she belongs."

"Can't we just—," Clara began to plead her case anew.

"No! Clara, stop it." Abe's voice betrayed his frustration. "The case is closed Clara. I'm having no more of it."

"Please Sir, can't you at least—?"

"Clara! Enough. There's nothing for me to do. You've just earned yourself a paddling. Continuing this line of question won't change my answer, but it will increase your punishment." Abe crossed his arms, waiting to see how far she was willing to push it.

His ballerina hung her head in defeat. "Yes Sir." She tried to blink back the tears for a moment until she realized that she'd only loose them tomorrow when it was time to say goodbye.

"It's—it's not right Sir. She belongs here with us. I know it. I don't want her to leave."

Abe scooped her up, and sat in his armchair with his wife in his lap. He agreed with her reservations. But as long as Cecilia seemed happy to leave, he wasn't about to interfere. James sounded better the last time he'd been on the phone, but all in all, Abe doubted that James was fully past what had happened, and considered if Cecilia's departure really was the best way for either of them to recover.

"Clara, I know. But this one's out of my hands. See if you can write or call her once she gets settled. You know she never should have ended up in England? You remember that she was forcibly taken from her home? James is trying to undo all of that and honor his promise. I'm not going to second guess either of them on this matter."