Find Me by André Aciman

Author:André Aciman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux

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Two evenings later, I was just finishing a master class devoted to the last movement of Beethoven’s D Minor sonata when suddenly, at the door, there he was, standing with his hands in the pockets of his blue blazer, looking a touch gawky for such an elegant man, and yet not in the slightest bit uncomfortable. He held the door for the six or seven who were starting to leave the hall, and seeing they were filing out without holding the door or thanking him, he smiled broadly at them, finally thanking them for the tip. I must have been beaming. What a lovely way to surprise someone.

“You’re not displeased then?”

I shook my head. Like you needed to ask.

“What were you planning after class?”

“I usually have coffee or a juice somewhere.”

“Mind if I join?”

“Mind if I join?” I mimicked.

I took him to my favorite café where I go after teaching and where sometimes a colleague or a student joins me as we sit and watch people race along the sidewalks at this time of day—people on last-minute errands, others looking to put off heading home and shutting their door to the world, and then some just rushing from one corner of their lives to another. The tables around us were all filled with people, and for some reason that I’ve never been able to define, I like when everyone seems bunched together, almost elbow to elbow with strangers. “Are you really not displeased I came then?” he asked again. I smiled and shook my head. I told him I was still not recovered from the surprise.

“Good surprise, then?”

“Very good surprise.”

“If I didn’t find you at the conservatory,” he said, “I was going to try every luxury hotel with a piano bar. Very simple.”

“It would have taken you a long time.”

“I gave myself forty days and forty nights, and then I would have tried the conservatory. Instead I tried the conservatory first.”

“But weren’t we planning on meeting this coming Sunday?”

“I wasn’t too sure.”

That I didn’t object or say anything to gainsay his assumption must have confirmed his suspicion. Indeed, our silence regarding next Sunday’s concert made us smile uneasily. “I have wonderful memories of last Sunday,” I ended up saying. “So do I,” he replied.

“Who was the lovely pianist with whom you were playing?” he asked.

“She’s a very talented third-year student from Thailand, very, very gifted.”

“The way you looked at each other while playing clearly suggests there is more than just teacher-pupil affinity between you.”

“Yes, she came all the way here to study with me.” I could tell where he was leading and shook my head with mock reproof at the insinuation.

“And may I ask what you’re doing later?”

Bold, I thought.

“You mean tonight? Nothing.”

“Doesn’t someone like you have a friend, a partner, someone special?”

“Someone like me?” Were we really going to repeat last Sunday’s conversation?

“I meant young, sparkling, clearly fascinating, to say nothing of very handsome.”

“There is no one,” I said, then looked away.

Was I really trying to cut

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