A Perfect Life: A Novel

She had tea and a light meal before they landed—it was foie gras, smoked salmon, cheese, and champagne. She skipped the champagne and ate the cheese and foie gras, and twenty minutes before they landed, the flight attendants put everything away and asked them to bring up their seats. Blaise went to brush her hair and suddenly realized that she was going to have to wear the dark blue linen slacks and white shirt she had on, and sandals, to the recital in New York. She wouldn’t have time to go home and change. She quickly brushed her teeth, combed her hair, and put on makeup, and she looked very chic and impeccable when she went back to her seat. Even in casual clothes, she looked like a star. But she was chic for the French Riviera, not New York. At least Salima didn’t care, as long as she was there for the performance, and she prayed God she would be.

It was 5:01 in New York when they landed, and there was an Air France VIP escort waiting for her. They took her off the plane first and literally ran with her to immigration, and stayed with her while she waited for her bags. A porter and the VIP person took her to customs, and she said she had nothing to declare. It was 5:29 when she left customs and raced outside to the curb. Mark had arranged a town car for her since Tully was with Salima, and Blaise texted her as soon as she got in the car, or tried to, only to discover that her cell phone was dead. So Salima had no idea that her mother had landed and was in the car. She tried to call her from the car phone, but Salima’s phone was off.

The driver wove her expertly through traffic, and it was six forty-five when they approached Lincoln Center in rush-hour traffic, where Salima would be singing at Alice Tully Hall. Blaise got out and literally ran across the plaza, to the theater, and produced the ticket she had fortunately put in her purse in Nice. She was so glad she had it with her. Lucianna had arranged a front-row seat for her, as well as seats for Becky and Mark. Blaise was out of breath when she took her place between them, and Mark looked relieved when she got there and beamed. Blaise glanced up at the empty stage, with the grand piano on it. There were two other students performing after Salima, and she was scheduled to go on first. Blaise had just made it by the skin of her teeth, but she suddenly realized that this was the first time she ever had. And she had never tried this hard to come home. Something had changed. Suddenly not being there for Salima seemed wrong, and moving heaven and earth to be there for her was right. And Blaise certainly had.

The audience took their places and the stage manager turned down the lights, as Blaise held her breath, and a moment later Salima walked onto the stage with Lucianna, who left her front and center, close to the edge of the stage. She was wearing a sad, worried look, and Blaise realized that Salima still didn’t know her mother was there. And with a sudden surprising gesture, Blaise left her seat, took two steps toward the stage, and said just loudly enough for Salima to hear, “I’m here,” and suddenly Salima beamed. She had heard her. And a moment later the performance began. She sang like an angel, the crowd applauded thunderously when she took her bow, and Lucianna led her proudly off the stage into the wings. The thrill of victory was on Salima’s face, and Blaise hadn’t stopped crying while she sang. It had been the most beautiful night of her life.

Blaise found her backstage afterward, and Salima threw herself into her arms.

“You came! You did it! I didn’t think you would.”

“I damn near had to hijack a plane to do it. I nearly assaulted a ticket agent in Nice in the first-class lounge. I got here two minutes before you walked onstage.”

“Thank you for telling me you were here,” she said to her mother. “My performance wouldn’t have been the same if I didn’t know you were. I did it all for you, Mom.” And as she said it, Blaise started crying again. She was so proud of her, and so was Lucianna. And Salima went back to take another bow at the end.

Blaise took Salima, Mark, and Becky to Harry’s Cipriani afterward, and Lucianna joined them a little while later. Salima said she was ravenous, she had eaten very little all day, she’d been so nervous. And Blaise told her again how beautiful it had been. Lucianna had had the performance videotaped, and Blaise couldn’t wait to see it again.

And on the way to the restaurant, Salima had texted Simon to tell him how well it had gone. She stood outside the restaurant for a minute to listen to his text, and he told her that he was proud of her too, and he wanted her to send him one of the CDs. She texted him back and promised she would. And she told him that her mom had been there, and made it just in time.

The white silk dress they had gotten for the recital looked beautiful on Salima, and Becky had bought a new dress too, at Barneys, and Blaise laughed about what a mess she was, in shirt and slacks and gold sandals, wrinkled beyond belief after eight hours on the plane.

“I don’t care if you showed up naked, Mom. I’m so happy you were there.” Salima beamed.

“Me too,” Blaise said, as they held hands. Blaise leaned over and kissed her then. She had never been prouder in her life, of Salima for her accomplishments, hard work, and outstanding performance, and of herself for finally showing up when it counted. For once, network news had taken a backseat to her family, and Salima had come first. It was the happiest night of Salima’s life, and Blaise’s too. And as she sat smiling at Salima, Blaise felt the baby move for the first time.





Chapter 17