Sonata for Springtime, page 8
I chuckled. “You’re not nearly as threatening as you’d like to think you are, you know.”
“Oh, is that so?”
She hopped up from the chair and stood behind me. “If you’d stop whining about it for two seconds, Jonathan, I know you could play this etude.”
Another short laugh shook my shoulders. “Ouch. You almost hurt my feelings.”
Natalie poked me in the back before reaching around one side and grabbing my wrist. “You’re going to at least get to the end of this page before I let you leave.”
I put up little resistance as she lifted my hand back to the keys. “So I’m a prisoner here now?”
“Yup.” She captured my other arm. “Play for your freedom.”
I allowed her to guide me back into position as she’d done several times in the past when I’d wanted to give up. This time, I let out a melodramatic sigh before resuming the piece. I still thought I sounded so bad, the neighbors were going to start banging on the walls, but, as instructed, I made it to the bottom of the page and managed to land on the correct keys for the last few chords. “There,” I said. “I hope you’re happy.”
“I’m thrilled.” Lifting her chin, she flipped her hair back over her shoulder. “It feels good to be right.”
I craned my neck to look up at her. “Have you tortured me enough yet?”
“Hmm.” She tapped her cheek in an exaggerated gesture. “I suppose if you promise me you’ll get back into a better practicing routine, I can let you leave.”
“So soon?” I tried to camouflage my disappointment. “What about you? I thought you were working on the Appassionata, and I was hoping to hear it today.”
Her cheerful expression faded. “Well…” she said, drawing out the word. “I might have a similar confession to make when it comes to being busy and not practicing as much as I wanted to.”
“Excuses, excuses.” I rose from the bench and crossed my arms over my chest. “It’s your turn. And, like you said to me, I’m sure you’ll sound a lot better than you’re expecting to.”
She crinkled her nose. “Clearly, I did not think this through,” she mumbled.
“It’s too late now.” I jerked my head toward the piano. “If you had to suffer through my poor attempts at making music, I can handle listening to something only a few small steps below ‘perfect.’”
Natalie mimicked my earlier theatrics and flopped onto the bench with a huff. She reached behind the stand for her folder of music and, after closing my book and sliding it out of the way, spread it out in front of her. I took her previous position on the armchair and leaned against the plush cushions. It had been several weeks since I’d heard her perform, and the opportunity was worth the mortifying display of my own lack of talent.
She started at the very beginning, her forehead creasing as she concentrated. I’d heard the first movement a few times before, so it sounded familiar to my ears. The introduction went well enough, but at the first more complicated passage, she fumbled a few notes and let out a loud groan. Her lips pressed into a straight line, and she went back a couple of measures to try again.
The second attempt ended the same way, and her hands dropped away from the keyboard. “I think you were right after all,” she said, averting her gaze. “We should have given ourselves another week.”
“Maybe try the second movement?” I suggested.
She shook her head. “I’m sure it’ll be just as awful.”
“Wait a minute!” I did my best imitation of the same stern glare she’d given me when I’d wanted to quit. “You’re not getting off so easy. Come on, you have to play something.”
A mischievous glimmer sparked in her eyes. “Do I?”
I inched closer to the edge of the chair and braced my hands on my knees as if to stand. “Careful, or I’m going to come over there and subject you to the same cruelty you inflicted on me.”
One eyebrow flicked upward, yet I saw a hint of a smile.
Challenge accepted. In a flash, I was behind the bench, hovering above her as she remained seated. “Hey!” she squealed, giggling as I seized her forearm. “This is not how this is supposed to work!”
“Too bad.” I gave her a gentle squeeze before repeating the motions on her other side. “Should have given that some more thought, too, before you all but chained me to the piano and demanded I perform.”
Unlike me, Natalie put up more of a fight when I tried to raise her arms. Her melodic laughter rang in my ears as she attempted to wriggle out of my grasp. When her efforts failed, she rotated her wrists to reverse our grip, and I almost stumbled into her as she yanked my hands toward the keys. “Maybe I’ll make you play your excerpt a second time before allowing you to leave,” she said.
I struggled to gain an advantage, yet my awkward stance made it difficult. “You’ll have to let me go in order to get the music out or let me reach the piano, and then I could make my escape.”
“Damn it,” she muttered, though she didn’t release me.
“You might as well surrender now.” I bent down to whisper in her ear. “Just give in and play for me.”
Instead of striking the keys, she leaned back into me and hugged her arms to her chest. Except my hands were still entwined with hers, resulting in a clumsy embrace with my arms draped around her shoulders. I fought to ignore the warmth radiating from her body as she reclined against me, yet I couldn’t move.
Natalie didn’t pull away, either. A hundred conflicting thoughts flashed through my mind, but I was frozen in place, unsure of what to do or say. Before I could figure out an appropriate response, she rested her cheek along the inside of my elbow and exhaled, a sweet, contented sigh.
What is happening? My brain’s attempts to sort through the current situation were drowned out by my heart threatening to explode out of my chest. For months, I’d been dreaming of what it would be like to touch her, to hold her, and in the moment, I was afraid to move and disrupt this wonderful version of reality. As much as I would have liked to, we couldn’t stay like this forever. But what did she want from me next?
I swallowed and tried to breathe evenly in an effort to calm my racing pulse. It didn’t work. Without releasing her, I stepped to the side, leaving one arm circled around her waist as I sat next to her on the bench. Wide brown eyes gazed at me, captivating me with their dazzling sparkle. I stared back at her in disbelief that she was looking at me in such a way. Hints of pink appeared on her cheeks as she bit her lower lip, yet she didn’t draw back. In fact…was she leaning closer?
My breath hitched in my throat and I tilted my head toward hers. When I closed my eyes, her mouth pressed against mine, and the sensation of her soft kiss erased all of my prior fantasies. The world around us vanished as I focused on memorizing how amazing she felt. Her lips parted, tentatively at first, and I welcomed the intoxicating taste of her tongue.
She probed into the depths of my mouth, and I countered every frisky swirl of her tongue with one of my own. We breathed in time with each other as we engaged in our explorations. My grip on her waist tightened, and she laid one hand on my chest, above my thudding heart. Our movements grew more frenzied, the electric energy behind the kiss intensifying. I threaded my fingers through her glossy hair to hold her close, needing to experience more of her.
It was enough to break whatever spell we were under. Natalie jerked backward with a gasp. Jumping up, she scrambled away from me, clasping her hands to her mouth. “Oh my god,” she said, her voice muffled. “What is wrong with me?”
I also stood, and when I saw how distressed she was, my soul threatened to shatter into a million pieces. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
She rocked back and forth on her heels, shaking her head as she stared at a point on the carpet between us. Tears glistened in her eyes, but when I took a step toward her, she put up a hand to stop me. “I can’t…we can’t…this isn’t…” Steadying herself, she took in a gulp of air and wiped her face with her sleeve. “I think you should leave now.”
Though I hated seeing her like this, I didn’t bother arguing, especially since it was my own damn fault. I crossed the room to where I’d draped my coat over the edge of the sofa. As I slipped it on, I cast one last glance at her, wishing I could somehow find the magic words to fix everything, or at least console her. “I’m sorry,” I repeated.
She offered me a tiny nod without looking up and said nothing further.
I let myself out of the house, closing the door behind me. Outside, everything was gray and drab and lifeless. Logically, I knew my gloomy surroundings were due to the winter season, but they only emphasized the shame and guilt tearing me apart. I didn’t dare go back inside to speak with Natalie, yet I couldn’t bear the thought of going home to my empty house, alone.
I trudged across the street and climbed Mrs. Wilkes’s steps to knock on her door. When she opened it and saw me, her eyes widened, and she beckoned me inside. “Jonathan, what’s wrong?”
The whirlwind of the last few minutes hadn’t subsided, and I stood near the threshold, searching through my daze for an explanation. “I…I fucked everything up.”
I expected her to say “I told you so,” or at least admonish me for my language. Instead, sympathy creased her brow and she patted my shoulder. “I’ll get the kettle going and make you some tea,” she said. “It’ll only take a few minutes.”
I sat in the chair by the window, resisting the urge to peek outside. Rocky trotted over to me, tail wagging, and I picked him up and set him on my lap. As I scratched behind his ears, the events of the afternoon kept replaying in my head on a constant loop. The thrilling rush of kissing Natalie would forever be tainted by how devastated she’d been afterward. Even though she’d been an eager participant, I cursed myself for being so selfish. Not to mention, I felt like the world’s worst friend to Chris, too, and I didn’t know how I’d ever be able to look him in the eye again. For a fleeting moment, I’d gotten what I’d yearned for, but at what cost?
Chapter Eleven
Winter was brutal and seemed to have no end in sight. Muddy gray piles of snow crowded the sidewalks, and the freezing temperatures made my walks with Rocky short and unpleasant. It was dark outside when I left my house to go to work and I rarely made it home before sunset.
Work, home, work, home, occasional trips to the supermarket or dry cleaners…there had been a time when I’d found comfort in my usual routines, but the monotony threatened to suffocate me. Restless energy simmered inside me, yet I hadn’t found an outlet for it. The little electric keyboard I’d purchased stood in the corner, untouched for weeks; every time I saw it, another knot of guilt twisted in my stomach.
I’d texted Natalie one more apology shortly after our last meeting. She never responded.
The fluorescent lights blared overhead in my tiny office as I hunched over my desk, staring at my computer screen. Probably not any better or worse than the miserable conditions outside, I thought as I reviewed the document in front of me. As I rolled my head from side to side, trying to stretch out my neck, a message notification popped up in the corner.
Come by my office when you get a chance. Not an emergency, I’ll be here until 5:00.
I generally liked Steve, my boss, but despite our good relationship and his brief reassurances in the office’s chat system, being summoned made me nervous. I straightened in my seat, though I knew he couldn’t see me, and tried to refocus on my assignment. The pit of anxiety grew and grew, however, and when I reached the end of the page, I slid my chair away from the desk and stood.
His door at the end of the hallway was open. I hovered outside it and shifted my weight from one foot to the other until Steve acknowledged me. “I expected you about thirty seconds sooner,” he said, chuckling. “Come in, have a seat.”
I shuffled inside and plopped into one of the chairs on the other side of his desk, across from him. He clicked a few more times on whatever was on his own screen then swiveled toward me and folded his hands in front of him. “Don’t look so serious, Jonathan. You’re not a delinquent student being called to the principal’s office.”
Some of the tension eased out of my shoulders but not much. “Is there something you needed me for?”
“Not particularly.”
We sat there staring at each other for a few beats of silence before Steve leaned back and pushed his glasses up his nose. “I spoke with Linda in HR this morning. She says you have a lot of vacation time banked and you’re about to reach your cap.”
“Oh.” I rubbed the side of my head. “I took a couple days off around the holidays to go see my family.”
“Good. I’m glad.” He rotated back and forth in his desk chair. “I know we all make a lot of noise about our caseload and billable hours and so forth, but we do want you to have a work-life balance here. There are some benefits to not being one of the huge firms in the city.”
I nodded. “Understood. And, uh, thanks. I guess.”
“You’re an excellent attorney, Jonathan. I don’t want to see you get burned out.” The chair creaked as he continued to spin in idle arcs. “I know it’s such a stereotype by now, but I’ll say it anyway—you remind me a lot of myself at your age, and I’d like to keep you around for as long as possible.”
My eyebrow flicked upward. “I hope I didn’t give you the impression I’m—”
Steve cut me off with a flick of his hand. “I didn’t drag you in here to pick your brain about long-term career goals, I promise. I just wanted to check in with you and make sure everything’s fine.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
He adjusted his glasses again. “And everything is fine, I take it? You’ve seemed a little quiet lately.”
I tried not to fidget in my chair. “Yeah, I’m all right. Sometimes this time of year kind of gets to me, you know? But it’ll pass soon enough.”
“Gotcha,” he said, nodding. “So, why don’t you think about taking some time off soon? And I mean more than a day or two. Give yourself time to really disconnect for a bit.”
The concept didn’t sound too appealing, and I shrugged. “If you think it’s a good idea.”
“See your friends and family some more, catch up with your TV shows, devote some energy to your hobbies. Or you could even pick up something new!” A grin spread across Steve’s face. “Maybe painting, or photography, or learning how to play the guitar or something.”
I fought the urge to outwardly cringe. “I tried learning the piano recently. I…don’t think it’s for me.”
“Either way, I’m confident you’ll use your time wisely. Whatever it takes to make sure you’re in top shape when you return to the office.” Straightening, he turned back to his monitor, and I sensed this impromptu meeting was coming to a close. “Check your schedule and plan accordingly. And try not to let this crappy weather we’ve been having drag you down.”
I rose from my chair. “I’ll do my best.”
***
“Son of a—”
I skidded to a stop in front of a snowbank, saving myself from flying into it. The rest of my ski school classmates stopped nearby with varying levels of grace, but we all remained upright. Not bad for halfway through our first day.
Tara, our instructor, glided in an arc around our group to face us. She pushed her goggles up onto her forehead and grinned. “Great job, everyone! How about we head back to the lodge and grab some lunch, and then we’ll hit the slopes again?”
Everyone nodded or mumbled some sort of affirmative response, even though “slopes” might have been an overzealous description of the little hills we’d been learning on. Digging the tips of my poles into the snow, I pushed off on my skis and tried to turn around. By my calculations, I hadn’t fallen in at least an hour, and I was determined to finish off the morning session in one piece.
We lined up our equipment in the racks outside and clomped into the dining area in our heavy boots. After making my way through the buffet line, I joined my new acquaintances at a large table in one corner of the room. I considered myself lucky I’d found a ski program which wasn’t full of young kids, or even surly teenagers dragged to the resort against their will. My group included college students on a break, a pair of middle-aged friends, and various other vacationers around my age.
I listened to the ongoing conversations, trying to remember details about people and waiting for an opportunity to join in. A plastic tray of food dropped onto the table, and Tara slid into the seat across from me. “Oh, good, we didn’t lose anyone yet,” she said, chuckling. “I hope everyone’s having fun so far.”
“Definitely!” someone a few chairs down from me answered. “I’m glad it’s not too cold here this week!”
“Me, too.” Her long red hair hung in a thick braid over one shoulder, and she flipped it back before picking up her utensils. “I can’t wait to bring you to the top of the mountain in the coming days. The views are phenomenal.”
I pushed aside any anxiety I felt over the idea of careening down a steep slope at high speeds. “It’s nice of you to join us for lunch,” I said. “I would have thought you’d need a break from us, or you’d want to eat with your own friends.”
“I like to get to know my students, especially since you’re trusting me to keep you safe.” She swirled her spoon around in her bowl of soup. “Plus, I get to meet a lot of interesting people. I’m looking forward to learning more about you this week.”
I appreciated her enthusiasm, despite my lingering concerns about suffering grievous bodily injury on this trip. “I’ll do my best not to collide with any trees.”
She smirked. “It’s the support poles for the chairlifts you have to worry about.”
By the following morning, Tara deemed us ready for the chairlifts taking us farther up the mountain, as opposed to the rope tows on the bunny slopes. After she reviewed the instructions for getting on the damn thing, everyone in our group paired off…except for me. Typical. She didn’t miss a beat though. “All right, Jonathan’s with me,” she called out. “We’ll bring up the rear and meet you at the top!”
