Page 29 of Luke

"I used to."

"I haven't changed that much, and you can work on me tomorrow," he said, scooping some lasagna onto a plate, then putting it in the microwave. "Right now I'm more interested in food."

"I can live with that."

Fifteen minutes later, he sat on a stool at the kitchen island, finishing off a big plate of pasta while Liz sat across from him, sipping coffee and stabbing at random blueberries in the bowl of fruit between them.

"You could get yourself a plate," he said, reminded of all the times Liz had told him she wasn't hungry, then proceeded to eat half of his food.

She gave him a guilty smile. "Sorry. I like blueberries."

"So do I," he said pointedly.

She set down her fork. "I'm done; it's all yours."

"I was kidding. We can share."

"It's fine."

As she sipped her coffee, he said, "Tell me about your life before your sister died. What were you doing? Where were you living?"

"I was in New York, sharing a teeny, tiny apartment with a violinist named Gretchen Goldsmith. We both played for the New York Philharmonic."

"That sounds impressive."

"It was just one of several dreams that came true. I played at Carnegie Hall, Luke. I was so nervous, I was shaking; I wasn't sure I could play, but somehow I did."

He smiled at the look of triumph and pride in her eyes. "I wish I could have seen that." As he said the words, he realized he meant them. He'd been so angry with her for so many years that he hadn't allowed himself to even think about what she was doing. But he'd been there when she was a struggling student with a big dream. Now he regretted that he hadn't seen her reach that dream.

"It was amazing," she said. "But it wasn't just the big events that were exciting. I played for the Royal Ballet at one performance. I even played for a rock musician at a recording session. He wanted a classical background piano."

"Who was that?"

"Beck Robbins."

"He's huge."

She shrugged. "His ego is huge, too. It was fun, but he wasn't the nicest guy to work for."

"It sounds like you've done well, Lizzie."

"I have. New York was exciting, energetic, and super-fast—maybe a little too fast at times. It took me awhile to find my feet, hail cabs with the determination of a native New Yorker, push my way to the front of the hot dog line, fight for a seat on the subway. But eventually I adapted. I wasn't making a fortune, but I was doing what I loved."

"That's what it's all about. I'm happy for you. I mean that."

"Thanks," she said, her gaze connecting with his. "I'm happy that you've lived the life you dreamed about, too. You've probably been around the world twice."

"There are still places I haven't been yet. I like to get away from the big cities, see where the locals really live."

"And where you can see the stars," she said as they exchanged another remembered smile.

"I do like the stars," he admitted.

"I used to think that if you didn't do what you've been doing, that you would have been a good astronomer."

"Too much school for me."

"But you already know the names of all the stars."

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