Her Husband's Favorite Guest novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The Seat She Took
On her fifth anniversary, Lydia watches her husband play their wedding song with her cousin on his lap, then finds the festival program listing Piper as writer.
On our fifth anniversary, my husband made me coffee the way I like it and carried it to the piano bench where I was writing.
Brandon could be the kindest man in a room, and that morning he kissed my forehead and said, "Tell me everything over our anniversary dinner."
That night he pulled my cousin onto his lap at the piano.
He played our wedding song for five hundred people with her sitting there.
His left hand took the low notes.
His right arm circled her waist and held her back against his chest.
When the chorus came, he leaned in and sang it into her ear.
Somebody in the crowd yelled, "Kiss her!"
I stood in the wings with my fingers tight on my purse.
Inside it was the ultrasound picture I had picked up that afternoon.
It showed two tiny heartbeats, after almost five years of treatments and bad news.
My husband knew about the appointment, and he had asked to hear everything over dinner.
Dinner was waiting at home, with the table set for two, exactly as we had promised each other.
Instead I was watching him hold my cousin.
This was his Wednesday show, three days before the biggest festival of his career.
He had asked me to come up for the last song, the one we played together at our wedding.
I had arrived early, well before my cue.
But Piper was sitting in my seat.
Brandon had hummed the tune during a blackout in our first apartment.
I wrote the words the next morning on my keyboard, once the power came back.
At our wedding he took both my hands and said, "I will never play this with anyone but you."
Piper heard him say it, because she was my bridesmaid.
She is seven years younger than me, the little cousin who used to follow me around family parties and beg me to teach her piano.
When she moved to the city, I gave her our couch for two months.
A year and a half ago I got her an audition with Brandon's band.
He thanked me for looking after her and called us a family band.
Lately Piper had started carrying my green lyric notebook to rehearsals so I would not forget it.
I thought that was sweet.
Now Brandon was smiling at her and had not looked into the wings once.
The song ended, and Piper looped an arm around his neck.
He kept her there through the applause.
"I wouldn't be up here without this woman," he told the crowd. "My muse."
He pointed at the screen behind them. "We put together a look back at the road that got us here."
The lights went down, and photos filled the screen.
There was his first tour, his first album, and the night of his first sold-out show.
I knew that last photo.
I had stood between the two of them in a blue dress, with my backstage pass still clipped to my collar, because I had spent the evening fixing the sound.
On the screen, I was gone.
The next photo came up, and I was missing from that one too.
In one song he had given Piper my seat and cut me out of every year since our wedding.
"I don't know where I'd be without you," Brandon said to her, and took her hand.
He had said those same words to me five years ago.
I found them in his dressing room afterward.
Piper sat on the couch, laughing at a video of herself on his lap.
"Lydia! Did you see how much they loved it?"
I looked at my husband. "You pulled her onto your lap. During our wedding song."
"It played well," he said, loosening his tie. "Don't turn a performance into an accusation."
"It's our anniversary. You asked me to play with you."
"We'll celebrate another night. Saturday is what matters right now."
Piper stood up. "I didn't mean to upset you. Brandon thought we'd make a better impression as a pair."
"And the photos?" I asked. "Why am I gone from every one?"
Brandon stepped to her side. "You're my wife, Lydia. You don't need a slideshow to prove it."
"Piper finally has a chance to be seen," he added.
I looked at the two of them.
She had been at my wedding, and she knew exactly what he had promised me.
"Why can't you let your own cousin have one good night?" he asked.
He still had not asked how my appointment went.
I almost told him about the twins, because the envelope was right there in my bag.
Instead I said, "I hope tonight was worth it," and walked out.
By the loading door, the production coordinator caught up with me, holding her tablet against her chest.
"I thought Brandon had told you about Saturday," she said.
She turned the screen toward me, and it showed the festival program.
My name had been taken off the piano part of "Basement Light."
Piper Lund's name sat in its place.
Under the song title, the credits line read: Words and music by Brandon Keats and Piper Lund.
Brandon's approval was stamped at the bottom, dated four days ago.
So tonight had not been a whim.
He had planned it from the start.
"Send me that program," I told her. "And the original photos, every one."
She nodded.
"And cancel tomorrow's open rehearsal," I said. "I'm not teaching Piper a part he gave away."
I walked out before anyone could see me cry.
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