Page 34 of Share with Me

Nevertheless, Grandpa had left him that old 1945 Chevy truck.

Ivan wondered how much it would fetch at auction if he were to sell it. It had the original frame with a rebuilt engine. Never mind. He would never find out. Grandpa wouldn’t have wanted him to sell the truck as much as Grandma wouldn’t want to part with her old Victorian piano.

“Lord…” Ivan began to pray, but no further words came out of his mouth. No words.

He closed his eyes.

Can’t sleep.

Maybe it was too much coffee from the after-party. Maybe it was adrenaline. It had been quite a night.

He opened his eyes.

Moving clouds outside obscured the moonlight. The darkening night didn’t help him feel sleepy. At all. Maybe if he thought of some pleasant memories, prayers would come and sleep would follow.

Pleasant memories?

Of what? Of debt and drudgery? Of pain and pressure? Of life and labor?

And love.

Ivan thought of Brinley Brooks and their near-kiss.

She had seemed receptive to his desire, but he hadn’t gone through with it because it had dawned on him, standing there alone with her on the terrace, that he didn’t know Brinley Brooks at all, and it wasn’t in his nature to kiss strangers.

She might not be a Christian. Ivan didn’t know where she was coming from or where she was going. It was as if they had just run into each other at the bus stop waiting for buses going on different routes.

And he didn’t want to jeopardize his hard-earned new job as concertmaster at SISO.

Nope. Can’t pursue anybody now. Look what happened with Emmeline.

Well, dating that harpist had been a mistake, however brief it had been. Ivan vowed never to date a fellow orchestra member again.

He tried to sleep.

He still couldn’t.

All he saw when he closed his eyes was Brinley’s face.

Was it possible for a pretty lady like Brinley to go out with a man in such a sorry state as he? Maybe just for lunch? Or coffee since he might not be able to afford the lunch she was accustomed to.

Just once? It would make his day.

They had something in common, though.

Our song.

Ivan wondered if there was something more between them than Bach. What was the probability of—

Ivan cringed and covered his face with both palms. “I can’t believe I tried to kiss her.”

I have to apologize to Brinley Brooks.

“Lord, please forgive me for my indiscretion.” Once Ivan began praying, the rest of his prayers tumbled out, prayers for Grandma and prayers for Brinley, and he fell asleep with songs of praise to God on his lips.

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