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“WHAT’S THAT YOU’RE playing?” Greg asked, peeking his head into the cry room.
It was far too cramped for Katrina to be practicing comfortably in here, but she needed to be alone. She couldn’t articulate why she was so nervous about meeting Miles, but she could hardly hold onto her fingerboard without the sweat causing it to slip out of her hands.
She put down her bow. “Just some Bach.”
Greg frowned. “Sounds complicated.”
She shrugged. “Not really.”
“Well, I’m heading out for a few hours.”
“Where are you going?”
“Just to Winter Grove.”
“The assisted living home? What for?”
“They asked me to lead a weekly Bible study. I told you about that last night. Remember?”
No, he hadn’t told her. Or had she just forgotten?
“You’re having your lesson soon?”
She answered with a nod, and he leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. “Well, have a good time with your scales and warmups and all that fun stuff.” His smile was so carefree. So easy. How could he look that composed?
She did her best to smile back naturally but got the sense she failed. Fortunately, he was too preoccupied to notice. “I might swing by the store and run a few errands after that, so I’ll see you in a while. Don’t worry about holding dinner for me if I’m late.”
One more peck on the cheek and he was gone.
Katrina stared at her bow. Her practice had been interrupted, and she was trying to figure out if it was worth the effort to move out of the cramped cry room and into the sanctuary when the door of the church swung open.
Her heart was racing. She wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. Why had she worn her jeans and this plain sweater? What Mrs. Porter told her back at the Safe Anchorage Gift Shop was true. Winter was no time for pastels.
Oh, well. Too late now.
She stepped out of the cry room.
Miles stared at her, his eyes shining, his face flushed. “I’m so glad you’re here. I really need to talk to you.”
She glanced at the door her husband had so recently stepped out of and found herself longing for the safety and protection of the claustrophobic closet she’d just left.
He took her by the wrist and led her into the sanctuary. “I should have warned you from the beginning,” he said. “I sometimes get this idea in my head that I’m actually decent at composing, and when I’m working on something I sort of tune out the whole world for a few days. I’m really sorry about that. I know I missed our lessons, and I feel terrible. But I’m really hoping this will make it up to you.”
He sat her down in the front pew, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his phone.
“Here.”
“What am I looking at?” She stared at the screen.
“It’s the piece I wrote. I guess you could say I was inspired the last time we sang together. I wanted to come up with something for Christmas. Something to showcase your talent.” He reached across her and scrolled ahead on his screen. “See, I even wrote a part for your violin.”
She blinked as the notes on the screen transformed themselves into music in her mind.
“So this is what you’ve been working on?” Was that all she could come up with to say?
“Yeah. It’s, well, I sort of did it for you. I mean for us. I thought that maybe if you were interested, you could come over. I have a little recording studio. It’s nothing fancy, so don’t get your expectations too high or anything. It’s just this little amateur thing, but with your violin and the way we sound when we sing together ... I just thought maybe we could make ourselves a recording.”
“Like formally?” When had she started talking like a valley girl? And why was she still so focused on the fact that she’d worn pastel in the middle of December?
“Sure. I mean, I’ve laid out a few songs before. Nothing’s really taken off, but I’ve got a small following on a few of the indie platforms. I just ... We sang together the other day, and I couldn’t get your voice out of my head, and then I thought with your violin ...” He finally took in an inhale. “Tell me what you’re thinking. You look a little stunned.”
What was she supposed to say? Accompanying a musician on her violin was one thing, but laying out a track on vocals ...
“You don’t have to say yes right away, but would you at least run through it with me a time or two? I’ve hardly slept since we were together last, and I know I’ll never be able to rest or relax until I hear it. Because sometimes these things sound a lot different in your head than they do in real life, and I’m not too full of myself to admit that maybe it’s just junk, but I really think I’ve got something here.”
She hadn’t ever heard him so animated, seen his face shine with such excitement. She held his phone, still listening to the way the violin part played out in her mind. Miles was clearly an intuitive composer. The refrains accentuated all of the strongest aspects of Katrina’s playing, as if he’d written the piece entirely for her.
Which, now that she thought about it, he had.
He stared at her with an earnestness that made him appear a decade or more younger. Like a teenager asking his long-time crush to dance with him. “Will you try it out with me? Just this once?”
She was drawn to his eyes. Remembered vividly the musical connection they’d made the last time they were together at the school. Recalled how anxious she’d felt during the past few days when she hadn’t been able to meet with him.
She glanced back down at his screen, focusing on the vocal parts. Hers would be mostly harmony. It wasn’t anything too tricky or demanding.
What could it hurt?
“Sure.” She handed him his phone.
His entire face beamed at her, joy unbridled like a child’s on Christmas morning.
She couldn’t help but smile back. Genuinely this time. She fidgeted with her ring, her eyes still interlocked with his. “Let’s try it and see how it goes.”