Symphony Nouveau

A young stride pianist finds love in a vintage jazz club, and she struggles with her father's old-fashioned ways as she fights for true love.

    Elizabeth Tivol paraded into her study and closed the chestnut wood doors behind her. The large window on the opposite wall was framed by velvet merlot drapes, and a sunset worthy of being painted cast an orange and pink glow onto the dark wood of the Steinway baby grand. Her steps were muffled by the ornate Persian rug that blanketed the floor.

    When she stopped at the piano, she smiled down at the musical score from Somewhere In Time. Elizabeth reached for her silver cigarette case, which was resting on the edge of the piano. As she lit the cigarette and inhaled the sweet smoke, she admired her taste in decor. Erte’s “Symphony In Black” hung on the wall to her left, and a bookcase took up the whole right wall. The table near her mustard camelback sofa was topped with a bottle of champagne, a wedge of gruyere cheese, and real fruit: not like that fake plastic s**t on Bethany’s dining room table. No, these were real jupiter grapes that paired perfectly with the creamy nutty cheese.

    Elizabeth’s eyes drifted back to the bookcase. She had all the classics: White Fang, Where the Red Fern Grows, The Great Gatsby. She stopped at Ivanhoe. That had always been her favorite. It was adventurous, dangerous, well-written, and romantic. That’s why she had hidden it there. She wouldn’t lose it if she remembered that. She felt her heart flutter, and she quickly pulled herself out of whatever dream her brain had started wandering to. She made her way back to the piano, sat on the bench, and tipped the pendulum on the metronome. She swayed her head to the andante rhythm resonating off of the wooden block. As she swayed to and fro, she looked at the vintage tin-type photograph of herself. It was so sad, very much unlike her actual disposition, but it was probably the most accurate representation of how she saw herself. Her train of thought was disrupted by the sound of doors opening.

    “What now, Father?” Elizabeth sighed, both exasperated and irritated. He had a way of disturbing her when she just wanted to hide from the world.

    “Just seeing what my little princess is doing, locked away when I spent all of this money on the party,” her father stated in a very condescending tone.

    “Well, considering it’s a benefit for the symphony contributors and not concerning me,” she stifled a smirk as she flicked her cigarette, “I’d rather not bother with it.”

    “Of course, dear,” her father said, walking over to the bookcase, “I just need to find something to read for my toast.”

    Elizabeth’s mouth went dry when his fingers brushed the spine of Ivanhoe as he scanned the titles. He finally decided on the collection of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s essays and poems. Before leaving, he turned to face her.

    “And if you play any of that racket, make sure it stays in the room.”

    “Yes, Father.” Elizabeth said. He left the room, and she rushed up to lock the study doors. She scurried to the bookcase and pulled Ivanhoe from the shelf. The letter was still tucked safely inside. Elizabeth unfolded it to review before writing a response.

Dear Elizabeth,

    How I have missed seeing you. Not a day goes by that your lovely green eyes don’t grace my imagination. When will you be at the jazz club again? You play ragtime like a goddess. My beautiful butterfly, allow me to leave the talking to the lyrics of Ella Fitzgerald, for I have not the words to describe how I feel: “All of me. Why not take all of me? Can’t you see I’m no good without you? Take my lips, I want to lose them. Take my arms, I’ll never use them. Your goodbye left me with eyes that cry. How can I go on dear without you? You took the part that once was my heart. So why not take all of me?”

        Until next time,

                Adderley

    Elizabeth hugged the note to her chest. Adderley Golson: her handsome and suave saxophone player. She didn’t care what her father said: Elizabeth would marry Adderley, even if he was a simple man.

    Her eyes were drawn back to the large window. It had been a while since she had been to the jazz club, and her heart yearned to see Adderley again. Elizabeth looked over her shoulder to make sure her father would not suddenly re-enter the study, then she grabbed her coat and rushed towards the window. Unlocking the latch, she darted out into the twilight.

***

    It started to drizzle as Elizabeth trotted up to the double doors of the Wonky Honky Jazz Club, the bright lights illuminating the boulevard. Already she could hear the squeal of a trumpet and the oompa oompa of the bass. She wasn’t on to play tonight, but she still loved just sitting in the haze of cigarette smoke and losing herself in the rhythms.

    The entrancing aroma of sweet Phillies cigarillos thickened the air, and the conversations rising around her were being drowned out by the band’s rendition of “Deep Purple Dream.” She ordered her usual drink: a Hanky Panky cocktail. She was in great need of gin, especially since she would have to deal with her father later that night if  he found out that she had snuck out.

    “A beautiful dame like you shouldn’t be paying for her own drink.”

    Elizabeth turned, ready to give the little flirt a whatfor. She stopped when her eyes met with a pair of glistening chocolate brown ones. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and she let out a soft giggle.

    “Well, Mr. Golson, why am I, then?” Elizabeth coyly inquired. Adderley just laughed down at his feet and slid a ten dollar bill to the bartender.

    “Keep the change, Lester.”

    Elizabeth took Adderley’s arm, and he led her to their usual table. He pulled out her chair for her, and she sat down. Adderley seated himself across from her. They sat in silence and looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity. He was very handsome, with short brown hair and a boyish face that wasn't too round or too sharp. He was perfect in every meaning of the word. Elizabeth opened the cigarette case.

“Does your father know?” Adderley broke the silence with his soft tenor voice.

“Know what?” Elizabeth asked, struggling to get her lighter to work.

Adderley shifted nervously in his chair.  “About us.”

She slowly inhaled as she let the words sink in. Sighing, the smoke exited her lungs.

“Not yet.”

“You know I want to marry you some day, right?”

“Like some big ceremony?”

“If you want. We could elope. I don't care what as long as it's what you want.” Adderley reached over and grabbed her hand. She looked up and smiled at him. Marriage had never really crossed her mind as a wonderful thing until she had met him. The band started playing a slower song.

“You wanna dance?” Elizabeth stood and extended her hand to Adderley. He grinned and took her hand in his. He placed his hand on her waist, and the two swayed to the steady rhythm.

“I’ll be seeing you in all the old familiar places…” The tall Latin woman began to sing.

“You know, when you first came in here, I thought you were just another gorgeous doll.” Adderley said, making eye contact with Elizabeth. “But then you went up there and played Fats Waller better than the old man himself. You dance on the ivories as if they were part of your soul.”

“Then it’s a good thing you aren’t Al Capone.” She laughed, not breaking eye contact. Adderley twirled her around and pulled her back.

“Why is that?”

“Cause then you’d kidnap me just to hear my playing.”

“Don’t you know?” He said, leaning in. “That’s the idea. I want to whisk you off somewhere we can just match each other’s harmonies.” Elizabeth looked deep into those abyssal pools that were his eyes and kissed him.

“I’ll be seeing you in every lovely summer’s day. In everything that’s light and gay, I’ll always think of you that way. I’ll find you in the morning sun, and when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon. But I’ll be seeing you.”

***

    Elizabeth climbed into the study window as quietly as she could, not wanting to alert her father. She took off her shoes and tiptoed over the rug. She took a step back, blinded by the sudden illumination of the room. When her eyes adjusted, she saw her father leaning against the bookcase. He had Ivanhoe in his hand.

    “And where have you been all night?”

    “Oh, Father, I just went out for a walk. It was getting so stu-”

    “Don’t lie to me!” He shouted, his face turning red. Taking a deep breath, her father pulled the letter out of the pages of her beloved novel. The blood in her veins froze, and her heart skipped a beat. He stepped towards her.

    “Dear Elizabeth, how I have missed seeing you.” He began to read in a mocking tone.

    “Stop it.” Elizabeth whispered, trying to hold back the tears creeping to the edge of her eyelids.

    “Who is Adderley?” Elizabeth refused to answer. “Is he from that speakeasy you call a club?”

    “It’s not a speakeasy, Father. It’s a jazz club.”

    “So, you did meet him there. What is he: a drummer? A bass player? Spit it out!”

    “A saxophone player. His name is Adderley Golson, and he is a saxophone player.”

    Elizabeth’s father crumpled the paper in his hands. He came closer, and she felt smaller with every step he took. She had intended on telling him, just not like this.

    “Father, I want you to meet him. He wanted you to know that we were toget-”

    “How long has this little flirtation been going on?”

    “About a year.”

    Her father let out a laugh. Elizabeth felt the first tear drip down onto her blouse. He never approved of anything she loved. Why did she think he would approve of Adderley?

    “I’ll make a deal with you: I will go to this jazz club, and I will meet this Adderley Golson.” His tone of contempt made Elizabeth’s blood boil. “But if he steps even a smidgen out of line, you are no longer allowed to speak to him, and your late night excursions will come to an end.” As her father left the room, he plucked a few jupiter grapes off of the bunch.

    The minute the door latched, Elizabeth collapsed onto her camelback sofa and cried. She cried not only out of sadness but also out of relief. At least her father toyed with the idea of meeting him and possibly approving of him. The chances were slim, but she wanted all the hope she could muster.

    Turning on the lamp on her desk, Elizabeth sat down and started the letter to Adderley.

Dear Adderley,

    I need to warn you about my father…

***

    Elizabeth looked in the mirror as she braided her hair and pinned it up in a chignon bun. She was on to play tonight, and she always dressed to impress on those nights. The metallic gold evening gown hung loosely on her shoulders, and the train followed her just enough to bring the attention up to her hips. A rich maroon color shined on her lips, and her lashes were long with black mascara. Looking at her reflection one last time, Elizabeth stood and went to meet her father in the foyer. He was her escort.

    The drive was quick but silent. The tension in the air was so thick that someone could have cut it with a knife. When the car stopped at the entrance, her father scoffed.

    “The Wonky Honky Jazz Club? What a name.”

    Elizabeth nervously pulled a cigarette out of the case and lit it. The fine saccharine smoke curled over her tongue as she inhaled. Her father held the door for her, and she exited the car. Making sure her hair was still the way she wanted, they went into the bar.

    “Elizabeth! You’re on in five! Get goin’, suga’!”

    “I’m so sorry, Cloyd. I’m getting there.” She replied, running back behind the white curtain. Her father seated himself in one of the booths near the dance floor. She took a few more puffs off her cigarette, then smothered it and stepped out onto the band platform. As she seated herself at the piano, the audience hooted and hollered. Elizabeth Tivol was a fan favorite. Waiting for the rest of the band to get into their places, she scanned the bar, looking for Adderley. He hadn’t replied to her letter, and she wasn’t sure if he was on or even coming tonight. The house lights flashed, and she started playing “Ain’t Misbehavin” by Fats Waller.

    “No one to talk with all by myself. No one to walk with, but I’m happy on the shelf.” Delila sang, her rich mellow voice quieting the audience. “Ain’t misbehavin’. I’m savin’ all my love for you.”

Elizabeth loved playing for Delila. She always felt like dancing, and that was when she performed best. The audience got up and started to jitterbug when the band hit the drum solo at the bridge. Elizabeth was so focused on her stride piano solo that led into the key change to notice how outraged her father was. They finished the song, and the audience clapped wildly for them. Elizabeth’s eyes were drawn to the doorway as Adderley traipsed in and leaned against the doorway, smiling at her. She let a miniscule smile cross her lips, and the smile stretched into a grin when she saw Cloyd pestering him to get ready for curtain. Elizabeth waved and blew kisses to the audience as thanks, then she stepped down off of the platform and sat with her father.

    “Rather sloppy performance, dear.” Her father scoffed.

    “It was stride piano. It’s supposed to sound sloppy to the untrained ear so the real art lovers can discern the structure.” She retorted, taking him aback with her brazen rebuttal. Before he could reply, the club was filled with an uproar of cheering and applause.

    Adderley stepped up to the microphone in his signature black Italian-cut suit. He waited a few seconds for the crowd to calm down before speaking.

    “How’s everybody doin’ tonight?” He asked, the cheers of the audience being his reply. “That’s swell, folks. Now, I know I always grace the stand with the music of the tenor sax, but tonight is gonna be a little bit different. I’m gonna serenade you fine ladies and gents. I been takin’ lessons. So, without further ado, I hope this song touches the hearts of each and every one of you.”

    He turned and gave the pianist his queue, and the upbeat tempo filled the room. Adderley swayed to the rhythm and stepped up to the microphone when it was his count. Elizabeth felt her heart melt at the sound of his high baritone voice. It was rich, warm, and soulful, and she could feel his emotion with every word he sang. She glanced over at her father and saw that he was getting sucked into the jaunty tune.

    As the melody faded out, Elizabeth and her father clapped for his performance. He had made a bold move not sticking with his saxophone, but the result was beautiful. Adderley stepped down off of the platform and headed to the bar.

    “So, Father, how did you enjoy that performance?” Elizabeth asked coyly.

    “Not too shabby, my dear, not too shabby at all. The defiance he displayed and the passion in his words were riveting.” He exclaimed. He was interrupted by Adderley coming up with cocktails in hand.

    “A drink for the lady?” He remarked, setting down the cocktail in front of Elizabeth and taking a seat in the booth next to her. He extended his hand to her father. “Adderley Golson. Pleased to meetcha.”

    “Anderson Tivol.” Her father shook his hand reluctantly. He was sizing up the seemingly-suave gentleman in front of him. The boy was handsome and had good taste in tailoring; he was definitely musically talented, but what else was hiding underneath?

    “You gotta good arm, Mr. Tivol. So, what’s your story? I’ve been tellin’ Elizabeth it would be swell to meetcha, and here we are.”

    Elizabeth’s gaze shifted from Adderley to her father. She could tell he was trying to find something wrong with the young man, but it was nearly impossible. Adderley was the perfect gentleman, in every way.

    “Do you really think you are good enough for my daughter?” Anderson asked.

    “What’s that supposed to mean?”

    “She’s a lady of class and refinement. What about you, Adderley Golson? Are you a man of moral and stature?”

    Elizabeth started to nervously reach for her cigarette case, but Adderley just reached over and held her hand.

    “What does that have to do with marrying your daughter?” He asked Anderson.

    “Is that what you intend to do?” Anderson inquired, offended.

    “Yeah, that’s what I intend to do, with or without your blessing.”

    “Yes, I heard your melodramatic little performance up there.”

    “Then you probably heard this part, too: if you don’t give me your blessing, we’ll run away together. I love your daughter, Mr. Tivol, and I just want her to be happy. And the first act I’ll  do to show that is take her away from you and your pretentious way of life.” Adderley calmly stated, squeezing Elizabeth’s hand.

    “Adderley-”

    “Elizabeth, I’m serious.” Adderley said, standing up. “Go home and pack your things. We’re blowing this joint.”

    Elizabeth stood in shock, then she ran out the door. Anderson tried to stop her.

    “Elizabeth!” He reached out, then turned angrily to Adderley, who was finishing his gin on the rocks.

    “Pleasure meetin’ you, Mr. Tivol.” He said, setting the glass down on the table and walking out of the Wonky Honky Jazz Club.

***

    Elizabeth burst through the doors of her study with her suitcase. She carefully took “Symphony in Black” off of the wall and put it in the bottom of the suitcase. Grabbing her movie score and as many books as she could carry, she stuffed them in with her clothes and toiletries. The champagne, grapes, and cheese went into a small bag in case they needed the food. Elizabeth dropped Ivanhoe and her handbag with the emergency funds in it when her father came rushing into the room. His face was red with rage.

    “You stop right there, young lady!”

    “No, Father! I’m tired of you telling me everything that I can and can’t do! I’m a big girl, and I can make my own decisions!”

    “Perhaps, but they are poor ones! Like running off with a dirt poor musician!”

    “I don’t care if he’s poor!” She shrieked. “I love him, and he wants us to spend the rest of our lives together! He loves my piano playing, and he loves  me!”

    Anderson bent down and picked up the book.

    “You wouldn’t have these delusional ideas in your head if you didn’t read dreamy romanticised books like this one!” He growled.

    “At least I have a dream, Father.” Elizabeth retorted, snatching the book out of his hand and picking her handbag off of the ground. She shoved the book into her suitcase and buckled the straps.

    “Elizabeth Tivol, if you walk out of that door, you will be cut off from this family for as long as you live!” Anderson shouted.

    Elizabeth paused halfway to the door. She turned and looked her father in the eye with a cold stare.

    “Frankly, I don’t give a damn.”

    With that, Elizabeth Tivol walked out of her life as the princess in the tower and entered a new one full of excitement and joy, eloping with the man she loved. Elizabeth and Adderley may have had little money, but in no way were they poor.