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DINNER THAT NIGHT WAS reheated spaghetti, and Katrina did her best to hide her disappointment that they didn’t have a more special way to end their perfect afternoon together.
After walking for nearly an hour through the woods, they finally came home so Greg could shovel and Katrina could try to thaw out her frozen limbs in a hot bath.
“Want to watch a movie after we eat?” It was probably Greg’s way of telling her he was in the mood for some kind of action flick with lots of guns and car chases. Definitely not the way Katrina would have chosen to conclude the evening, but she stared at her plate and nodded.
“Sure. That’s a good idea.”
“I’m not sure we’ve spent this much time together since we moved here. We may have just set ourselves a record.”
Katrina matched his smile. It really had been the perfect day, or nearly perfect at least. She could have done without the part where Mrs. Porter walked in on her husband in his underwear, but she figured that it was something they could laugh about one day.
Especially now that she could remember how nice it was to actually laugh.
“How’s your tailbone?” Greg asked. “Does it still hurt?”
“No. I’d forgotten about it.”
“What about a bruise? Do you need me to check for you?” His eyes twinkled.
“Maybe later,” she answered, trying to match his playful tone.
Greg reached over and poured himself more water. “What do you have going on this week? Anything out of the ordinary?”
She wasn’t ready to think about another week. She was too busy relaxing after such a peaceful day. “Not too much. I’ll have to call and see about moving my voice lessons to the church.”
If the choice had been up to her, she would have come up with some excuse to stop seeing Miles completely, but there was no simple way to do that without owing her husband a lengthy explanation. She’d spent all afternoon trying to forget about her voice teacher and the awkward conversation she’d have to initiate with him. Why couldn’t she be more like Greg? He never second-guessed anything. If he wanted to change a meeting place, he changed the meeting place. That’s all there was to it. Katrina had to psych herself up for hours just to get to the point where she could make a simple phone call.
“So when do I get to hear all the progress you’re making, Mouse?”
She froze with her fork poised over her plate. “Huh?”
“When are you going to sing for me? Back in Long Beach when you were taking violin lessons, you were always playing for me. I miss that.”
He missed her playing her violin for him? Why didn’t he say so months ago when she stopped?
“It’s just singing.” Why did she feel so flustered? And why did she feel like she had to make excuses?
“I know it’s just singing, but you’re my wife and an amazingly talented musician, and I hear Miles is quite accomplished too. Mrs. Porter was just telling me that the singing group he takes to state champions has placed first or second every year since he started teaching here. Pretty impressive for a little town like this.”
“Yeah.” She’d seen some trophies in the music room but had been too busy practicing with Miles to pay much attention. She hadn’t known about the Orchard Grove team ranking so high in the state, but she wasn’t surprised. Miles was the kind of teacher who could unlock the musical potential of his students. Katrina could teach the basics and give intermediate violinists a regimented program that would help them progress, but it took a special kind of gifting to draw out the passion and potential in others the way Miles could.
She had never seen anyone do with the violin what Miles had done for her voice in so short a time.
“You still didn’t answer my question,” Greg remarked. “When are you going to sing for me?”
“I don’t know. How about next weekend after I’ve had more lessons?”
Greg stood up. “How about right now?”