1.9 No Deviations

After a thorough scrubbing of her kitchen, Sage felt more at ease. She swore her countertops were magnets for dirt and other grime.

To unwind, she pulled out her trusty guitar and strummed familiar songs. The orderly procession of notes brought a sense of order and tranquility to Sage’s mind. One after the other…as it should be.

Of course that tranquility would be broken by her phone.

“Mrs. Ivanov, what can I do for you?” Sage answered.

“Well, this is kind of embarrassing…our caterer for the Summer festival function cancelled at the last minute and the Bistro charges an arm and a leg for a good meal made on such short notice… you’re a good cook, aren’t you?” she sounded extremely hesitant. No one in the office likes asking Sage for favors in fear of breaching her strict workplace protocol. Nadine drew the short straw this time around.

Sage mulled this over. A good cook? Where had they even heard that? She asked Mrs. Ivanov as much.

“Well, you mentioned once that you make all of your own meals at home…and you know us musicians, we all live off of bar food and cereal. You’re the closest thing we have to a chef…an affordable one, anyways. I promise we’ll still pay you for your trouble…”

Reluctantly, Sage agreed. It’s not that she doesn’t want to help out- it is a work function, after all- but she’s not sure if her cooking is good enough for other people to try. She’ll have to spend extra time on this meal, make sure it’s perfect.

She doesn’t have time to ruminate on the call; work beckons.

All too soon, it’s time to go home. Sage busied herself with making dinner. She thinks her spaghetti is a certifiable masterpiece- all ingredients were added in carefully measured proportions, with no deviations whatsoever from the recipe. Sage is quite proud of herself.

I hope those musicians enjoy it, she thought to herself as she put it in the fridge. She spent hours slaving over an online recipe and her stove.

Not left with a lot of time before she needed to go to bed, Sage made herself a simpler dinner- sushi, her favourite. She tries not to indulge in it too much since seaweed is quite pricey in a town far away from the ocean, but she felt like treating herself after a job well-done.

The next morning is laundry. Sage spends a lot of her days off just cleaning the house. She doesn’t mean to be so messy, but when you’re in a house just to sleep, shower, and eat things like laundry tend to fall to the wayside.

Still, she makes sure that it gets done at least twice a week. It would be unseemly to have dirty clothes laying everywhere. It was for this reason (and probably lingering fear after the stove fire if Sage is being honest) that she sold the house’s huge fireplace to make way for a washing machine and a dryer.

But she has more than just chores to do today. She comes by the Ivanov residence to drop off the food they requested for the Summer Festival event. Nadine placed the meal inside her fridge.

“I hope you find the meal satisfactory.”

Nadine smiled, “Don’t worry, the guests are all roadies- any home cooked meal will seem like a feast to them.”

Sage nodded solemnly, and Nadine sighed. Why did she have to take everything so seriously? Sage was at least 10 years younger than she was, but talking to her made Nadine feel like a little girl talking to her teacher. It was exhausting!

“You have a lovely home,” Sage complimented. She had to be polite, after all.

“Oh, this old place? Yuri and I have lived here for nearly ten years!” she laughed. The sound hung in the air for a moment as Sage regarded her, her silver eyes piercing. Nadine repressed a shudder.

“Oh, really?” Sage asked politely.

Nadine nodded, relived to break the uncomfortable silence, “We were college sweethearts-he and I travelled a lot for our careers. But then my mother wanted us to live closer by once we had children, so we moved here permanently once Dimitri was old enough to start school.”

Sage nodded politely, but felt increasing discomfort. This conversation was getting so personal.

“And how about you?” Nadine turned the conversation towards Sage, “How did you end up here?”

Sage shifted her weight uneasily. She didn’t want to be rude by not answering, but she didn’t feel like having a deep conversation with a colleague.

“Work,” she finally answered, “I came here for the job.”

Nadine waited for more details, like why Riverview of all places, but Sage only stared at her stoically with her owlish silver eyes.

“I see. Hey, if you’re free right now, do you want to get some practice in? Shirley wants us to make sure the acoustics in the theatre are ok tomorrow with a practice run of our set,” she changed the topic back to something Sage seemed to revel in- work.

Sage may not be a part of this band, but Nadine knows she can play most of their songs off by heart by now. To be honest, Nadine could use some additional practice too.

Anything for the job. Nadine told her to practice outside, as not to disturb her children as they do their homework. The rain doesn’t deter Sage one bit.

The presence of Mr. Ivanov proved to be a distraction, however.

“Ew, guys, get a room,” their daughter Tatiana complained. Sage couldn’t agree more. Unfortunately, the couple was too wrapped up in each other to notice their guest’s discomfort.

Tatiana rolled her eyes, “They’re always doing this,” she informed Sage, “It’s like they want me to die of embarrassment.”

Sage grunted in response. Eventually Tatiana wandered back inside the house, leaving Sage alone with Tatiana's affectionate parents.

After disentangling themselves, the Ivanovs insisted Sage stay for dinner- “We don’t get many adult guests anymore,” Mrs. Ivanov had said- and out of politeness, she agreed. She had to admit, whatever salad dressing they used was much better than the one she got from the store.

As she ate, she stole glances at the small home. Two outdoor garden tables were pushed together to make one family sized dining table. Furthermore, a lot of their furniture seemed old or cobbled together, bought out of necessity with little thought to how it would tie in with the rest of the house. Still, it did have a quaint kind of charm to it. She could see how living here would be nice…for the Ivanovs.

After dinner, Sage cleaned up after herself.

“Oh you don’t have to do that,” Mr. Ivanov said as he put away the left over salad, “You’re our guest!”

“Oh no, it’s quite alright,” Sage replied, somewhat embarrassed. Had she inadvertently offended them by not letting them take care of her? She was the guest after all. Some people could be quite sensitive about such things, Sage included.

Mr. Ivanov just shrugged. Less dishes for him to wash!

They followed up with more practice, this time Mrs. Ivanov tangling strings and not tongues.

“You play…oddly,” Mrs. Ivanov observed.

Sage cocked her head to the side. “Did I miss a note?”

She shook her head, “No, actually you got all of them right…but it sounds like…like a robot playing. A bit too precise, you know?”

Sage looked at her quizzically. “Too precise”? Was there such a thing?

At Sage’s puzzled look, Nadine shot her husband a look and sighed. Sage probably would never truly understand music, dissecting it the way she did. But she was undoubtedly gifted, so who knows how far she would go. All of this she could say to her husband with a single expression. She smiled softly; after all this time, they were still in synch.

Sage made her way home before it got too late, but the practice didn’t stop. One clear note after the other…

Just as it should be.

When she went to bed that night, she heard music in her dreams. 

AN: Sage's early days are quite...boring, so I've started combining chapters together. 

She and the Ivanovs are now friends :) Though Sage probably wouldn't admit it :P