Free Happy Any Day Now by Toby Devens

practice room but the cipher in question, trumpet in hand. He raised it in salute as he walked toward me.
    Trapped!
I lowered my voice for Charlie. “Listen, I’m backstage and it’s kind of chaotic here. This isn’t a good time to talk. But we should.”
    “We should indeed. I’m heading into chambers now. I’ll phone later this week. Evenings good?”
    “Fine. Except Thursday. We have a performance Thursday night.” Geoff was maybe three feet away. I held up my index finger asking for a moment. It was also a gesture that could be interpreted as “stop.” That’s what he did. In his tracks.
    “Just one more thing,” Charlie said.
    I wondered whether Geoff could make out the other end of the conversation. At the very least, he’d peg the voice as masculine. Geoff had perfect pitch. As I checked for a sign that he recognized my caller, his glance flew to his shoes. I backed away a few steps, but there was a wall.
    Charlie was saying, “Before you take off, I’ve got a quick question. Time sensitive. There’s an RSVP involved. I’m going to be in D.C. in a couple of weeks. Tuesday the twenty-ninth to be exact. A retirement party in Georgetown for Justice Braithwaite.”
    The story of U.S. Supreme Court Justice Edwin Braithwaite’s surprise resignation was all over the airwaves. Diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, he had only months to live.
    “I don’t know if you remember, but he’s a friend of the family.” Uncle Ed and Aunt Kay, of course. The Pruitts’ and the Braithwaites’ summer homes on the Maine coast were within hallooing distance.
    “Anyway, what I seem to have a problem getting to is I’m wondering if you’d like to accompany me.” He stuttered out the
cuh
in “accompany,” a nervous faltering that, under less stressful circumstances, I would have found endearing. All I could think of was,
Hurry up, spit it out, the man I sleep with is listening.
    Or not. I couldn’t tell because Geoff was staring at his shoe as if he’d stepped in something brown and odiferous. “Well, it sounds very tempting.” Dottie was back in action. “But I’m not sure. I’ll have to check . . .”
    “Your calendar, of course.” Charlie faded for a moment, then returned. “Sorry. I’m being summoned. I really have to go. I hope you can make it, Ju-ju. I think you’d have a wonderful time. In fact I guarantee it.”
    “I’ll let you know,” I said. And then for Geoff’s benefit, so he would think Charlie was—who, my auto mechanic? I ended it, “Nice talking to you.” Already I was into duplicity, and my emotional circus, featuring juggling and tightrope walking, hadn’t even begun.
    After I turned off my cell phone and slipped it into the rear pocket of my jeans, Geoff moved in. He patted it familiarly, then draped an arm around my shoulders and we began walking toward the stage. I allowed for maybe twenty seconds of silence before I felt compelled to speak.
    “Long time no hear.” It had been a grand total of sixty hours.
    “Yup. I’m sure you have lots to tell me. We’ll talk at break.”
    • • •
    An hour later we stood at the soft drink machine. “You played flawlessly. Bloody confident bow work. I was worried there for a while.” Geoff held out a hand and deliberately made it tremble. He shot me a questioning look, which I ignored. “No caffeine for you.”
    I dropped my seventy-five cents into the slot, punched the button for a Sprite, took a sip, and gave him my brightest smile. The best defense is a good offense. “So, the move went well? You have fun with your old mate?”
    “It did. We did. Worked hard, drank a lot of beer, hauled a lot of Aussie ass. You?”
    “Excuse me?” Buying time.
    “Did you have fun with
your
old mate?”
    In the note I’d left him after the Carnegie Hall concert, I’d written “meeting a New York friend.” No name. But his question sounded loaded. Could he have known? How?
    Ah, my mother. They were pals. It would be just like