EPILOGUE
“I'm so glad you accepted my invitation for an after‐concert drink,” I said, sitting down in the booth of my favorite pub.
“My pleasure,” said Dr. Richardson. “I'm sorry my wife couldn't come. She has an early morning.”
“I totally understand,” I said. “My girlfriend will be by in a little bit. She was at a girl's night out, but she wanted to meet you.”
“Girlfriend?” Dr. Richardson's eyebrows raised.
“Yes,” I replied. “My divorce was finalized months ago. I wasn't going to be a bachelor forever.”
“I keep forgetting that it's been over a year since I've seen you.”
“A lot has happened for sure,” I said. “I don't even know where to start.”
“I can say with all honesty that tonight's concert was one of the best I have heard the symphony play.”
“Yeah, our new maestro picked an epic lineup for our season finale.”
“Not to sound indelicate, but what happened to Maestro Fernando?” asked Dr. Richardson.
“Well …” I began. “The symphony implemented a number of new policies, and the culture shifted. A large number of them were the projects I instigated. It required Fernando to work more closely with the board and the orchestra committee, two things he didn't want to do. I held fast that his only job was to pick the music he wanted and be in charge of all things music. While this was part of his job, he didn't want to work with others or allow others to be a part of what he did. It was mutually agreed upon that at the end of last season, he would bow out gracefully.”
“Wow, that is ...
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