Con VII

It was Noah, Noah Jole, the saxophone player who noticed first.

Beth wanted to tell everyone, but I didn't and for the first time, as far as I could tell, she respected my wishes.

I also didn't want to see my parents or my older brother, didn't want to go out, didn't speak with any of our friends - I'd even stopped giving private lessons - something I'd been doing to earn my daily bread since I was sixteen, while the only reason I dragged myself to rehearsals was because I'd fought so hard to become a part of the jazz combo I now played with - and we were scheduled to go on tour in less than a month - not a large one, to be certain, but it was an important one: we would headline one of the stages at the Rhode Island Jazz fest, then go to Chicago for a BB King tribute.

I didn't understand it, my feelings, either. Beth was perfect, everything I'd always hoped, everything I knew she, no, we could be and more...we were a family...and my career had just taken a very positive turn.

Beth humored my moods and told me it was all a part of the process my body was undergoing and my gp - the one she'd picked - apparently agreed.

One late afternoon, after she'd dropped me off at the local concert stage we rehearsed at, Noah eyed me as he polished the brass of his instrument, the soft chamois rag a caress over the creature he loved to the exclusion of most of the world.

I sat on my stool and tuned my guitar, plucking at the nylon and silver strings, checking the intonation.

"When you due?" he asked me in a soft undertone.

I stared at him.

"C'mon, girl," he said, his voice teasing, rich, and low, "I've got three sisters, two daughters, and three grandbabies. You think I can't see you there, the baby marks all over you? And Beth," he said, and rolled his eyes, "isn't she just so proud? Fussin' over you like...she's..." he put his sax down on the stand and put a hand on my shoulder. "What's the matter, honey? Ain't you happy?"

And much to my horror, I realized the answer even as I tried not to shake my head.

No. I wasn't - not at all.