Page 80 of Things I Read About
There’s a plate of fruit, crackers, and cheese in front of me and, wow, I am starving. I look up and it’s dark out. And I’m still sitting on this bench, still in my bikini, wrapped in a towel around my chest.
“Crap!”
The song pauses and Nate’s voice comes from behind me. “I fed the animals already. Thought you must be hungry, too.”
I shove cheese and grapes in my mouth at the same time. “I mm. Thankyr.”
He’s in a black tee with the sleeves cut off, glistening from the work outside. His bulky, inky arms are crossed as he leans against the windows, watching me.
I look at a tattoo and remember the bet he lost that night in Park City.
“Oh,” I say through the crackers. “I learned something for you.”
He frowns as I wave him over to the piano. He walks up to the bookshelves by the side of the Steinway.
“I was going to play this for you the day I had to fly out early. The Clarks changed their plans that day and we had to leave in a hurry.”
“Happens,” he says, blank as always.
I smile at him, trying to reestablish a connection. And I start to play. “Do you recognize it?”
“Of course. Linkin Park,” he says softly. It’s a robust arrangement ofIn the End.
“That’s a rock song, right?”
He grunts something like a yes.
I don’t look up and I know I’m starting to blush, but I don’t care. I want him to know. “I learned a lot of rock songs in the last six months.” I don’t dare glance over to see his reaction.
He says nothing, doesn’t move. When the song ends, he pushes off the shelves, scowling. “Can I ask you something?”
I nod, pulling the plate down from the top of the piano, cradling it in my lap. I should still be irritated with him; with the way he saidkids. With the way he shows no emotion, no interest. But I can’t help myself, I desperately want to know whatever it is he’s going to say.
“Why are you going to med school, when you can do that?”
I swallow. “I never wanted anything else.”
“You’re telling me you never wanted to play professionally? With an orchestra or whatever?” He moves closer still, resting a hand on the piano. “You have to have thought about it.”
“I did.” I shift on the bench, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. “I have, but becoming a doctor was basically a given. I was reading about brains when I was twelve.”
“And playing for the governor, too, right?”
I cross my arms. “I guess so, yeah.”
He walks back to the windows, so I have to twist around to watch him. He looks out into the night and sighs. His voice is soft when he speaks again. “I know it’s complicated because of your mother. And maybe your whole family wants to keep that connection to her through you.” He shifts back to me. “I mean, you do look exactly like her. It’s crazy.”
My eyes sting. “I know.”
“But Sally, what do you want? What about your life? I get that the past… it shapes us, I guess, forges a path. I’m just saying you don’t have to walk down it just because it’s there.” He crosses his arms. “Hell, does that even make sense? Like you said, I don’t know anything.”
He turns to leave so I blurt my words before he disappears again. “What shaped you?”
He stops with his door on the corner wall. “Same as you. Somebody died.” Then he leaves.
I put down the plate and follow after him, but he’s gone into the abyss that is this massive house. I open my mouth to call for him, but I know it won’t matter.
I go back to the piano bench and plop down, grabbing the plate. I thought for a moment, when he asked me about playing, that his walls were coming down. That maybe we could talk everything out, start over. But when he glanced my way before leaving the room, his eyes were empty again, guarded.
