Page 75 of Share with Me

What did I say? Husband and what?

He stood there, violin in hand, speechless at what had crossed his own mind, all the while chewing on a piece of cookie that a woman he had only gotten close to for fewer than three days had hand-fed him. Granted, they’d known each other in passing for about a year. But they hadn’t been on first name basis until the week before.

It felt so wrong.

“Want more?” She broke off another piece.

“No. Thank you. I’d better not.” He swallowed the last bit of crumbs. “Want to hear my composition?”

“Absolutely.”

Ivan put his chin on the violin chin rest. He began to playPleasant Daysas Brinley ate the rest of the cookies. He improvised a bit but she didn’t seem to notice.

In the middle of it he lost track of what he was doing. The rest of the tune in his head was ebbing into forgetfulness. After the thirty-fifth measure the music manuscript blurred and all he could see was Brinley standing right in front of him, holding the rest of the cookie in her hand.

He stopped playing.

“I’m still working on the rest of it.” It was somewhat true.

“I like what you have so far. Sounds like a quiet walk on the beach in the morning with a cup of coffee.”

“Seriously?”

Brinley nodded. “What is it called?”

“Pleasant Days.”

“There you go.” Brinley bunched up the paper napkin. “Are you going to write the accompaniment?”

“Yeah. Or maybe turn this into a sonata for two violins.”

“You play it well.”

“Thank you.”

“I wonder how that would sound on a Strad.”

Ivan shook his head. “Petrocelli is only letting me play one composition on the Strad for tomorrow night’s auction.”

“Oh, the fundraiser is tomorrow. I forgot. Just as well that we cancelled lunch tomorrow. Busy day for you.”

“Yeah. And I’d better rehearse that piece too.”

“So we’d better leave.”

“No. No. That’s not what I mean.” Ivan placed the Vuillaume into its case. “I practice every day. Maintenance, you know. So it’s not a big deal if I don’t rehearse this afternoon.”

“You make the violin look easy to play.” Brinley smiled.

Ivan shrugged.

“Might you do something beyond SISO? Leave St. Simon’s?”

Ivan hesitated.That’s a loaded question.

“Once upon a time I thought I did. I can’t go back. And I can’t think that far now. I need to focus on SISO and my music studio.” And taking care of Grandma, the whole reason he was stuck on this island.

Brinley looked around. “Is this your music studio?”

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