Chapter Sixty: The Recital
The recital was announced in a letter that came home in both twins' backpacks.
Dear Parents,
The first grade will be performing their annual spring recital on Friday, May 17th. Each child will perform a piece on an instrument of their choice. Please help your child practice at home.
Lina read the letter three times.
"Lily, what instrument are you playing?" she asked.
Lily beamed. "The piano! I'm going to play 'Chopsticks'!"
"Leo, what instrument are you playing?"
Leo sighed. "The recorder."
Lina blinked. "The recorder?"
"It's the only instrument I can play without leaving the house."
Lina bit back a smile. "That's very practical."
Leo shrugged. "I'm a practical person."
Lina hugged him.
"The most practical," she said.
---
The weeks leading up to the recital were chaotic.
Lily practiced "Chopsticks" constantly, pounding the keys with enthusiasm if not accuracy. The neighbors complained. Sprinkles howled. Leo wore noise-canceling headphones.
Leo practiced the recorder in his room, with the door closed. He played the same three notes over and over, trying to get them right. It sounded like a dying bird.
"Are you sure you don't want to play something else?" Lina asked.
Leo shook his head. "The recorder is the foundation of Western music."
"Who told you that?"
"I read it in a book."
Lina sighed. "Of course you did."
She kissed his forehead and left him to practice.
---
The night of the recital arrived cold and clear.
Lina and Ethan sat in the front row, Victoria beside them, Victor and Katherine in the row behind. Maya sat with her mother, who had taken the night off work to be there.
The auditorium was packed with parents and grandparents and siblings and friends.
Lina's hands were shaking.
"Are you nervous?" Ethan asked.
"Terrified."
"They're going to be fine."
"What if Lily forgets her piece? What if Leo's recorder sounds like a dying bird?"
Ethan took her hand. "Then they'll be adorable. And even if they're not adorable, they'll be ours."
Lina leaned into him.
"Ours," she said.
"Ours," he agreed.
---
The recital began.
Children played the piano and the violin and the flute. Some were good. Some were not. All of them were brave.
Lily was magnificent.
She walked to the piano with confidence, sat down on the bench, and played "Chopsticks" like she had been born to do it. Her fingers flew across the keys. Her face was serious. The audience clapped.
Leo was... Leo.
He stood on the stage, his recorder in his hands, and played his three notes. They were not perfect. They were not even good. But he played them with focus and determination, the way he did everything.
The audience clapped.
Leo bowed.
Lina cried.
Happy tears.
---
After the recital, the families gathered in the auditorium.
Lily was surrounded by admirers, accepting compliments with the grace of a seasoned performer.
"Thank you. Thank you. Yes, I practiced for weeks. Yes, the piano was out of tune. Yes, I am the best pianist in first grade."
Leo stood to the side, holding Ellie the elephant, waiting.
Lina walked over to him.
"You were wonderful," she said.
"I was adequate."
"You were wonderful."
Leo looked up at her. "Lily was the star."
"Lily was the piano. You were the recorder. Every performance needs both."
Leo considered this.
"I guess," he said.
Lina knelt down and hugged him.
"I'm proud of you," she whispered. "For trying. For practicing. For getting up on that stage even though you were scared."
Leo hugged her back.
"I love you, Mama," he said.
Lina's heart burst.
"I love you too, baby. More than anything."
---
The celebration continued at the penthouse.
Pizza and cake and ice cream and the particular chaos of a family that had something to celebrate. Lily told the story of the recital again and again, adding new details each time. Leo sat on the couch with Victor, looking at photographs of famous musicians.
Victoria found Lina in the kitchen.
"She's a natural," Victoria said, nodding toward Lily.
"She's a ham."
"Same thing, sometimes."
Lina smiled. "That's what Ethan says."
Victoria leaned against the counter. "You're doing a good job, Lina. With both of them."
Lina's eyes stung. "Thank you."
"I mean it. They're confident. They're kind. They're exactly who they're supposed to be."
Lina looked at her children—Lily, holding court in the living room; Leo, studying musicians with his grandfather.
"We're trying," Lina said. "That's all any of us can do."
Victoria nodded.
"That's all any of us can do," she agreed.
---
Later, after the guests had gone home and the twins were asleep, Lina sat on the couch with Ethan.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Full," Lina said. "Not from the cake. From... everything. From watching them. From seeing them shine."
Ethan put his arm around her. "They get it from you."
"Get what?"
"The shining. The confidence. The ability to stand in front of a room full of people and not be afraid."
Lina leaned into him. "They get it from you too."
"Maybe. Or maybe they get it from themselves. Maybe they're just who they're supposed to be."
Lina thought about that.
She thought about Lily, born to perform. Leo, born to observe. Both of them perfect, just as they were.
"I can't wait to see who they become," Lina said.
Ethan kissed her forehead.
"Neither can I," he said.
---
The Next Morning
Lina found Leo in his room, sitting on his bed, holding his recorder.
"Are you okay, baby?" she asked.
Leo nodded. "I was thinking about the recital."
"What about it?"
"About playing the recorder. About not being the best."
Lina sat beside him. "And?"
Leo was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "I think I'm okay with it. Not being the best. Because I tried my best. That's what matters."
Lina pulled him into her arms.
"That's very wise," she said. "For a seven-year-old."
Leo shrugged. "I read a lot."
Lina laughed.
She held her son, her recorder player, and felt grateful for every part of him.
Not the parts that shone. Not the parts that stood out.
All of him.
---
End of Chapter Sixty