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“YOU DIDN’T TELL ME how your lesson went today,” Greg commented over dinner. The chicken was too rubbery, but otherwise the meal had turned out well enough.
Katrina didn’t know what to say. She’d replayed those last couple minutes in the music room all afternoon. By the time she’d packed up her violin and headed to her car, Miles’ truck was gone. She didn’t know if she was supposed to do anything to lock up and even waited around a couple extra minutes to see if he’d come back before finally driving home like a puppy who’d just been punished.
“I think my voice is getting a little strained from all the extra practice.” She’d made herself two cups of tea with honey already, and her throat still felt raw.
“Well, don’t overdo it,” Greg told her. “Because I have an idea. That song from last night, the Christmas one, I was thinking maybe you could do it as a solo at the Christmas Eve service.”
“You mean on my violin?” She wondered if he remembered that arrangement, if he recognized it from that youth group party so many years earlier.
“I guess if you wanted to, but I was thinking of you singing it.”
She stared at her plate. She’d run out of frozen peas and was forced to heat up the vegetable mix with lima beans, which were bad enough fresh but felt mushy like wet chalk once frozen. “I’ll have to think about that.”
“No pressure.” Greg’s voice was tentative, like he was scared she’d be upset.
She offered a smile to make sure he knew there was no reason to worry. “I’ll let you know.”
He met her smile. “Hey, I found that old guitar book of Christmas carols and was going to spend a little time practicing after dinner. Care to have an old-fashioned singalong?”
A week ago, even a few nights ago, she would have loved the idea. Right now, her soul felt too heavy. “I’m not sure my voice can handle any more singing today,” she admitted.
“How about on your violin?”
She loved that he was inviting her to share some time of music together with him. Loved the hopeful earnestness in his expression.
Despised herself for letting him down. “I’m really tired. It’s been a long day.”
In spite of all the extra cleaning and housework she’d done this morning, in spite of dinner being served on time, Greg hadn’t said anything about the added effort. If she weren’t so exhausted, it might not matter, but now she felt like she’d wasted all that energy for nothing.
Greg frowned. “Are you all right? You look pale. Do you think you’re getting sick?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” That could explain the achiness in her bones, the tightness in her throat.
“Why don’t you pick a movie instead, and we’ll wrap ourselves up on the couch with some blankets and just take it easy?”
She sighed. “No, that’s ok. I think I’ll just clean up the kitchen and head to bed.”
He reached over the table and felt her forehead. “You sure, Mouse?”
She nodded and answered in as clear and definitive a voice as she could, “Positive.”