Page 69 of Crescendo

“You don’t have to give me things, though. It wasn’t… anything, really. Just… slamming keys.”

She looked at me like I’d said the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but that was one of the most incredible pieces I’ve ever heard—one of the best experiences I’ve ever had playing.”

Something about the look in her bright blue eyes said she was telling the truth. But that didn’t make sense. She’d played with… well, anyone who was anyone in the composing world, I was sure. She’d gone to Berkeley to study with some of the best musicians. She was playing with people from our course who were far better than I was.

But she didn’t look like she was lying.

I struggled to breathe and looked away. “Well, you’re very good. And, for the record, Eliza isindescribablywrong in all of her criticisms.”

She laughed. “I’m not particularly concerned with what she has to say about my playing, honestly.” She held the phone out. “What do you want?”

“Oh, anything’s fine,” I started, but my eyes caught on a dish that looked like the food of my dreams and I stalled.

She smiled and flipped the phone back around. “Arrabbiata it is. Do you want dessert?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay.”

“I’m ordering dessert. And Bruschetta al Pomodoro.”

I laughed. I didn’t have the energy to fight her but I found I didn’t want to anyway. Food sounded good. I had to hope I’d keep it down, but, for the first time in days, it sounded really, really good.

“Do you want a drink?” she asked, waving the phone at me again.

“Uh.” I looked around, my eyes catching on the scotch glasses we’d both now abandoned. “You know, tea sounds great.” Hot and comforting andgreat.

Lydia laughed. “My British girl through and through, huh? Let’s not tell Italy you’re having a British cuppa with your Bruschetta.”

My heart jolted at her words. She was focused on her phone, on putting in our address and paying for the order. She’d just said it as an offhand comment. It didn’t mean anything. We were casual. And this evening, I’d already been way too much for a casual fling. She wasn’t trying to start anything by calling meher girl.

But I couldn’t stop the way it made my insides flame.

I tried to put the feelings away, to hide what must have been written across my face, by standing up, but that just made things worse. She dropped her phone, her hands flashing out to grip my waist through the blanket and pull me back to the floor.

“Stay right there, you,” she said, her eyes boring into my soul.

“But… tea…” I said, a little breathlessly.

“Can you just let a woman look after you?” she laughed. “I’ll get your tea. Exactly the way you like it. And I’ll even have tea with you, and we can both eat Italian food and drink tea while sitting on the floor.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to. And even the King of England himself can’t stop me from doing exactly as I want.”

I laughed. “I believe it. But, honestly, I don’t think he really cares what we’re doing right now.”

“Well, then he’s missing out, isn’t he?”

She disappeared around the wall towards the kitchen and I finally looked at the piano and the violin. I couldn’t describe what had happened on the two of them. I couldn’t describe what had happened at the piano when I’d been solo, let alone what happened when Lydia had joined me.

It hurt and it made my head ache just thinking about it, but… it was good, too. At least, I thought it was.

My dad had told me I needed to feel it all. My therapist had been telling me that for years—not in so many words, perhaps, but the point still stood. And, when I’d played, I’d felt it. When Lydia had played with me, it had been like the final latch being released from the lid of everything I’d held back over the last four years. And, at least in music, it felt like she’d understood that. She’d somehow known exactly what to do, what to play, exactly how the song was meant to go—a song I didn’t even know I’d needed. For those reckless, blazing moments, we’d been speaking the exact same language, knowing the exact same things.

I wondered what it would be like to tell her. The part that had played that song with herwantedto tell her.

Maybe other parts did too.

It still didn’t screamcasual, though. And that was a problem.

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