"Someone told me that New York in January is dreary and depressing, like a person who got too dressed up, could maybe pull it off on New Year's Eve but got too plastered and couldn't get home?" I told Teddy in the cab. "So he or she has to do the walk of shame the next day, face all gross, hair a mess, all unshaven and barfy?"

I snuggled into his arm. "But I don't think so. Maybe if it's been all stormy, and the streets are full of dirty snow and all that. But this New York is stunning, isn't it? I mean, look at the sky, it's almost indigo, isn't it? That's one of my favorite colors."

He looked down at me. "I thought purple was your favorite color?"

"It is, that's why I said 'one of'. I love purple, violet, royal blue, indigo, all of those really dark colors. I like to call my favorite color 'violent violet'. But look at the sky, wow." I turned to him. "If it weren't so cold, the sky wouldn't be so glorious, you know? The air wouldn't be clear enough. You have to give and take a little." I pulled on his arm a little. "Get it?"

He kissed my head. "Yeah, I get it," he said with a smile. "You're like that Monty Python song." He sang under his breath. "Always look on the bright side of life, da dump, da dump de da da dump."

"Are you making fun of me?" I asked.

"No, not at all," he protested. "I think you're enchanting." He pulled his arm from me and hugged me. "It's lovely to be around you."

Enchanting. Lovely. Swoon. Every time.

"I was just pointing out that New York in January is beautiful," I continued. "At least until the next storm hits."

"What's been your favorite place so far?" he asked.

"The Brooklyn Bridge," I answered. "I mean, no place has disappointed me. The top of the Empire State Building was wonderful, the view was amazing, I've loved the Plaza, I'm really looking forward to the Rainbow Room, Times Square was as colorful and exciting as I hoped, Chinatown was buzzing and, oh god, just everything has been so, so incredible, but nothing can top being on the span of the Brooklyn Bridge, looking into Manhattan." I leaned into him. "With you," I whispered, into his coat.

"What was that last bit?" He leaned forward. "Didn't quite catch that."

"Nothing, not important," I said, suddenly afraid that I'd cry.

"No, come on, share," he said with a smile.

I sighed. "With you," I said softly, covering my face with my hands.

He looked at me, pulling me in, not saying anything, just looking out the window.

We stayed that way for the rest of the ride back to the hotel.

I went to work in the practice room, but left after only two hours. I burst into our room to find Teddy sprawled out on the bed, papers spread out all around him, hair standing up like a wild man's.

He jumped at the sound of the door.

"You look like a modern day Beethoven," I laughed, straddling him like he was a horse and smoothing down his hair. "You should tie it if you're going to work like this, on your tummy, so it doesn't get in your way."

"No, no, running my fingers through my hair helps me think," he insisted. "I'm getting good work done here." He turned over, so I was sitting on his front. He put his hands on my thighs.

"What are you doing back so soon, anyway?" he asked. "Something wrong with the music?" He looked concerned.

I shook my head.

"In the mood for a little 'afternoon delight'?" he asked with a grin, rubbing his hands up and down my thighs. I smiled and closed my eyes, but shook my head.

"Well, what, then?" He looked at me.

"You were right," I said. "I'm fretting. About your birthday. It's in, like, a week, and I don't have anything. I have no ideas, no money of my own, no time; I'm FOFOM, in other words."

"What's FOFOM?" he asked, sitting up and rubbing my back.

"Full On Freak Out Mode," I responded.

"Well, that's not good," he said, laughing. "Especially about my birthday. If you're going to be FOFOM about anything, it should be about your audition, though you ought not to be about that, either."

"But like Ronan said, birthdays are a huge deal for you guys," I said, "and I don't want to f-fuck that up." I took a deep breath.

"No, no, no, no," he said, hugging me. "You mustn't take on so. When we were younger, and on the road constantly, we made birthdays a huge thing, so we wouldn't miss home and our families so much. Now it's a tradition more than anything, but no one really cares. We're all swimming in money, we can buy ourselves anything we want," he said, rubbing my back slowly, speaking soothingly. "As long as you're with me, I couldn't possibly want anything more from life, truly." He took my head in his hands, so he could look me in the eye. "Truly." He planted a soft kiss on my lips. "I can't think of a single thing I could want more than to be with you," he said softly.

I hugged him to me. "That's a lovely sentiment, and I do appreciate it, I really do, but imagine if the situation were reversed," I said into his ear. "Would you, could you, let my birthday go by with no present for me? At all? Nothing? Even if I told you to? Hmm?" I kissed him back, then looked at him.

"Point taken." He looked at me, lips pursed, line between his eyebrows. "How about this, then? I know of something that you can give me for my birthday. I'll ask you for it on the actual day, but not before, so you don't have to worry about it while you're preparing for your audition." He looked at me and smiled. "It's genius. What do you think?"

"Let me get this straight." I looked at him. "You know of something I can give you for your birthday. It's something you want." He nodded. "And you're going to ask me for it on your actual birthday?" He nodded. "And it's so easy to get that I can get it on that day, no problem?" He nodded again. "What about the cost?" I asked skeptically.

"Oh, you'll be able to afford it," he said. "Won't be a problem. Probably with whatever's in your wallet right now. It's more of an, um, sentimental gift."

"A sentimental gift," I repeated. "I don't know, Shelley, sounds kind of sketchy to me."

"It's not sketchy, honest," he said. "It's a gift from the heart."

"What happens if someone else gets it for you?" I asked.

"No one will," he said confidently, "because no one knows I want it, I haven't told anyone.

"Please, please, do this for me," he said, "it's something I've wanted for such a long time, but I can't give it to myself, please?" He looked at me out of those eyes.

"You can't give it to yourself? You just said, not five minutes ago, that you're swimming in money, you can buy yourself anything you want," I said doubtfully.

"Except this, except this," he said urgently, staring at me unblinkingly. "Please trust me about this? It's absolutely perfect, it solves everything." He smiled, the dimpled smile that had melted far harder hearts than mine.

"You don't have to think about my birthday, you can focus on your audition. You'll be giving me the perfect gift, and it'll cost you hardly anything. And it'll be something I've been wanting, that no one else will give me, for sure. I mean, does it get any better?" He gave me a little shake.

I hugged him tightly for a moment, before letting go to look him in the eye again.

"It's not going to be some gross sexual thing, like a blow job on top of the Empire State Building or something, is it?" I asked suspiciously.

He laughed so hard he started coughing. "No," he gasped when he could finally talk. "Though come to think of it, what's so gross about that?"

I hit him on the chest, laughing, and we fell backward on the bed, into the middle of all his papers.

"No, your work!" I said, trying to sit up.

"I don't give a shit," he said, continuing to laugh, rolling over to kiss me. "God I love you," he whispered, touching my mouth with his finger. He nodded. "I do, I do."

I looked into his eyes, and I suddenly couldn't get my clothes off fast enough.

The day before my audition came all too soon. Dr. Van Dyke had flown in, and when I met with him, I'd played through my piece once, and shockingly, he'd excused me for the rest of the day.

"You're as ready as you'll ever be, my dear," he said with his endearing smile. "I've never heard you play so beautifully.

"Now, why don't you introduce me to that young man of yours, hmm?" he suggested.

"Yes, sir, I'll call him to come down right away," I said with a smile, and I sent Teddy a quick text.

He must have been hovering in the hallway, because he knocked on the door about twenty seconds later, and came in.

I introduced them, and I was touched to see the shy sincerity in Teddy's smile, the way he called him "sir" again, and the genuine affection in the Prof's face. Usually Professor Van Dyke came off a little stern with people he didn't know, but these two seemed to have a connection right away.

"So, Mr. Shelley, I suggest you take Ms. Foster out to enjoy this lovely weather. Try to take her mind off tomorrow, hmm?" He was referring to the fact that there had been no rain or snow; it was one of the longest stretches of clear weather in the Northeast in years. It had been very, very cold, but no inclement weather of any kind.

"Yes, sir, she does tend to fret, doesn't she?" Teddy said, putting an arm around my shoulders.

"Ms. Foster has always been a worrier, even when there's no cause, I'm afraid. Perhaps, Mr. Shelley, this is something you'll be able to help her with in future. It would be a good idea for her to learn to relax a bit before you become parents, I think," he said as he buckled the straps on his old fashioned briefcase.

I stared at him, wondering if he realized what he'd said. Teddy just looked at the floor and blinked a lot, smiling, before saying, "Yes, sir, you're probably right."

"Not 'probably', Mr. Shelley. Trust me on this. I was once your age, I know of what I speak. Worried parents make nervous children, and you wouldn't want that." He smiled his beatific smile at the two of us. "The two of you will produce extraordinarily talented children, no doubt, but they'll be handicapped unnecessarily if saddled with a nervous temperament." He kissed me on the cheek, and shook Teddy's hand.

"I'll see you tomorrow at the hall, at four o'clock sharp. And no worrying. You seem to have found your bravery, my dear. Don't let anything happen between now and tomorrow to cause you to lose it!" And he left the room.

"What an extraordinary man," Teddy remarked.

"Yeah, kind of nutty sometimes," I said.

"To put it mildly," Teddy said.