Page 18 of Night and Day
Mia listened to his receding footsteps, grateful for the moment alone. Izzy’s presence made her jittery. It wasn’t just the current that passed between them through an accidental touch. It was the creative expression all around her – the notebooks, screenplays and music. That someone chose to devote hours, days, and weeks on something so unproductive and fanciful. The thought gnawed at her. Kids did art at school to pass time, but most people had to grow up and become productive members of society, right? She could almost hear Mikko’s voice as he rolled his eyes at something to do with arts funding. Sure, they both watched movies that someone had dreamt up, but those people were one in a million. For the rest of them, especially those born in small countries, speaking an obscure language, dreaming of a movie career was a waste of time.
Mia listened to the sound of conversation upstairs, punctuated by laughs. She couldn’t make out the words, but the rhythm of it soothed her, bringing back a feeling from her childhood, napping in her room while her mum and dad discussed something behind the half-open bedroom door. The adults were awake, keeping watch, allowing her to drift off, safe and sound.
Her heartbeat settling to a slower rhythm, Mia’s fingers found the strings, trying out the familiar tune she’d played for the past couple of weeks. It sounded better on Izzy’s guitar, softer and richer. Encouraged by the beautiful tune, she played on, and soon sang the words – a folksy, escapist pop song that had first burst out of her in Hawaii. Playing it transported her back into the small hotel room, the smell of frangipani mixing with the sickly feeling lingering in her empty stomach after the food poisoning. She’d been so relieved to keep down a bit of apple sauce, still too weak to worry about achieving anything or going anywhere. Nobody wished for those moments, yet they often offered the greatest gift – a lull that woke the imagination. She’d felt like someone else, someone with the luxury of time, filled to the brim with words and notes that needed to flow out the same way she needed to breathe.
“Beautiful.” Izzy’s gravelly voice cut through the room, hitching her breath.
She spun around, her face warming like a hot plate. How had she not heard him approaching? The voice still sounded from upstairs, but now that she focused her ears on it, she could only hear one person. And they weren’t talking. They were singing.
Izzy followed her gaze. “Yeah, that’s Deke. He sings when he cooks. He sings doing anything, really. He’s got a terrible voice, but he doesn’t care.” Izzy laughed, plonking a large paper bag on the sofa table. “You, on the other hand...”
“I’m not a singer. I—”
“Just take the compliment. I like your sound.” Izzy winked, handing her a cardboard container and a plastic fork.
The delicious smell of chicken derailed Mia’s thoughts. She slid the guitar onto the couch and picked up a fork. “Thank you.”
They ate in silence. The kebab reminded Mia of many she’d had at home in Helsinki. Was there an international formula for this type of meal that produced a standard outcome anywhere in the world?
As her stomach filled, her body relaxed. So what if Izzy had heard her untrained singing voice? Part of her wanted to know what he thought, not so much of her voice but the song. It had a nice hook, a melody that had captured her imagination, and she loved the way it made her feel.
Izzy set down his fork and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “That song you were playing, is it yours?”
Mia nodded, staring at his beard. He’d missed a piece of red cabbage that now hung off his beard like a Christmas ornament. She dabbed on her own face. “You’ve got something...”
“Do I?” Izzy’s mouth stretched into a grin, those intense eyes dancing as he studied her, making no attempt to clean his beard. He stuck his chin forward, proudly dangling the curly cabbage.
Mia raised her hand to snatch the misplaced vegetable, but hesitated before touching him and just pointed at it with her finger. “Yep, right there. It doesn’t bother you?”
His grin turned even sillier as he tried to peer at his own beard, eyes crossed. “No. I can’t even see it.”
Was he daring her to touch his face? Mia’s cheeks burned. Why couldn’t she feel relaxed around him? She was acting weird about touching him, and he could tell. He was testing her.
Mia steeled her nerves and threw on a bright smile. “Great. It doesn’t bother me, either. I think you should add more.” Her gaze flicked at the food container on the table. He’d finished the chicken and rice, leaving most of the greens behind.
Izzy picked up another piece of cabbage and tried to hang it on his beard, but as he released his fingers, it started sliding off. Acting on a reflex, Mia caught the falling piece and weaved it into his thick, dark beard. She gasped at the rough texture under her fingertips. As she made contact with his hard jaw, the familiar tingle ran through her and she trembled. She pulled her hand away, leaning back to study Izzy’s cabbage-adorned beard. “Looks great!”
“Cheers. Now, play that song.” He grinned, miming chords with his left hand.
Mia shook her head. “No. I’m not a singer. I just tinker with these song ideas, but I’ve never performed for anyone.”
His eyes darkened. “Not even your partner?”
“No.” Mia sucked in her lips, fighting a wave of anguish. “He... um... never asked me to.”
“He knew you were writing songs, but he never asked to hear one?” Izzy stared at her, that strangely meaningful yet obscure look in his eyes. She sensed worlds upon worlds behind them, yet saw nothing, like observing a battlefield through a keyhole.
“We both had our own interests, you know. Isn’t that how it goes in a long-term relationship?” Mia lifted, then dropped her shoulder, trying to keep her tone light. “I didn’t ask him about cycling, either. I don’t really care about bikes and he does.”
Izzy leaned in. “But you must have common interests?”
“Yeah.” Mia’s head flooded with fragments of conversations on the business plan, pitch decks, funding... Had they talked about anything other than work? “He’s been working on a start-up business and they finally secured an investor a couple of months ago. It’s all been a bit of a blur.”
“That sounds... exciting?” He raised his brow.
Mia nodded, a little too animatedly. “Yeah, very exciting. It’s a new type of productivity app, very high tech, lots of A.I. I’m supposed to go back next week and start working on their marketing and PR. It’s a great opportunity.” She nodded once more for good luck, to convince herself. It almost worked.
“But you don’t want to?” Izzy concluded, cocking his head like a therapist.
