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Summer Solstice

By Lynn Weathington

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Beth Young concentrated on playing through an unfamiliar passage of music. Beside her, a string quartet prepared instruments, and their cacophony of sounds mingled with the pianist as she finished sight-reading a last-minute addition to the rehearsal. As members of the vocal choir arrived, they found their assigned places in chairs on the platform behind the pulpit. It was a friendly scene that Beth enjoyed as she offered greetings and idle small talk with various parishioners. They comprised the sanctuary choir of the First Christian Church of Butlerdale, Georgia.
Beth noticed Drew Winslow as he entered from the foyer. Running her fingers through fiery copper hair, a subconscious habit she picked up since shedding a much longer hairstyle, Beth adjusted wire-rimmed eyeglasses. When he approached, she turned her attention to the song leader, a person whom she deeply respected for his musical ability and meticulous organization. His implicit trust in her musical arrangements transformed hymns and anthems into lush, angelic triumphs that attracted new people to the growing and vibrant church. Drew was delighted with Beth’s interest and participation in his successful ministry.
“Since this is our last rehearsal before the Easter concert,” Drew instructed. “We need to review the schedule for next Sunday.”
Nodding, Beth pulled a cell phone from her tote bag and began entering times for a sound check and pre-cantata music that would greet the Resurrection Sunday worshippers. Once complete, Drew smiled at Beth. “I’m glad we’re branching out this year to include a string quartet. In the future, we could feature an orchestra. I appreciate you organizing the extra musicians.”
“It was nothing, really,” she blushed. “All my students are eager to play. One day, you might even allow one of my piano students to stand in for me.”
Drew’s face clouded. “You’re not considering giving up your regular duties as our pianist?”
Knowing it would devastate her friend, Beth paused dramatically before giving Drew an answer. And her response set the tone for an upbeat and relaxed run-through of an Easter concert that was a gift from God.
Beth could observe the choir, the director, and the sound technicians from her vantage point behind the grand piano. It was not a coincidence she placed herself in such a strategic position. For the past five years, she had managed the neighborhood music store. Her expertise varied from string instruments to percussion to her beloved piano, and her careful guidance produced musicians eager and willing to play a wide variety of musical genres.
Taking her cue from the music director, Beth played through an instrumental bridge that linked a narration with the choir’s first number. Sheet music spread before her; she glanced knowingly at the top of the first lyric sheet to see the familiar name, a pseudonym she carried throughout her recording career. Glancing at faces in the choir who would soon sing those notes, she wondered if any ‌had guessed she was the composer.
Beth Young harbored a secret, an undisclosed past no one here in Butlerdale knew except her parents. And even they were not fully aware of her actions, places she had seen, and people she had met. Once the upper echelon of her field, a contender unequaled in a vocation where the paramount changed roles constantly, she now led a far less stressful life in small-town Georgia, surrounded by people who accepted her on simple merits instead of weighing her value on the latest Billboard charts. No one would ever identify this unassuming young woman as an award-winning singer-songwriter. She preferred it this way now, although there was a time back when she yearned to achieve so much, she would sacrifice whatever stood between her and superstardom.
It was a complicated ‌and frustrating existence she abandoned five years ago. She tried not to look back, to relive the triumphs and heartaches. But sometimes, even the little things could bring it all back, crystal clear as it was in the beginning…

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