They ate dinner and, like they did each night, settled in the living room. Max played the piano, a medley of classical and folk pieces, until Norbie grew tired and went to bed. Afterward, Anna gathered a pencil and staff paper and joined Max at the piano.
“It’s been a tiresome day,” Max said, resting his hands on the keyboard. “Let’s skip working tonight. You’ll be more rested for training—and to see Bruno.”
“Nein,” Anna said, scooching next to him on the bench. “We need to finish your composition.”
“It can wait,” he said facing her.
“I’d rather work.”If I go to bed, I’ll only worry about Bruno. I’ll feel better here with you.“But you’re welcome to rest if you’re too worn out to play.”
“I’m all right,” he said. “I’ve been rehearsing the next movement ofLight Suitein my head. Would you like to hear it?”
“I’d love to,” she said. “Your music is captivating; it makes me forget about the war.”
“Then I’ll play until dawn, or until a peace treaty is signed, whichever you prefer.”
Anna smiled.
He placed his hands over the keys and played. The movement began with beautiful, yet sad, diatonic chord progressions.
An ominous feeling washed over Anna. She closed her eyes and imagined a fragile paper boat floating in a vast sea.
With his right hand, Max added a flowing, delicate melody to the chords. His fingers danced over the keyboard, and the music grew more intense.
For several minutes, Anna listened to the piece, which Max played effortlessly, as if he’d rehearsed it for years. The music stopped, which was followed by a few seconds of silence, then the thumping of Nia’s tail on the floor.
“What do you think?” he asked softly.
Anna took a deep breath and opened her eyes. “It’s magnificent.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I do.”
“I have some changes to make,” he said, “but what you heard was essentially the music that has been percolating in my brain for the past few days.”
“I wouldn’t change a thing.” Echoes of the piece replayed in her head. “At the beginning, I felt alone and sad. But as the movement progressed, I had hopeful feelings, like there was a reason to fight on, in spite of turbulent times.”
Max placed a hand to his chin, as if he was contemplating her reaction to the piece.
“Ja,” Anna said. “I felt—hope.”
“I’m glad.” He placed his hands on his lap and turned to Anna. “What is it that you hope for?”
She took a deep breath, pondering his question. “An end to the war. Bountiful food for Germans. Bruno to be safe.” Anna fiddled with her sleeve. “And for you to have Nia as your guide.”
“Those are all very good things, but they are hopes that you have for others. What hopes do you have for yourself?”
“Well, for starters, I hope that Fleck will continue to permit me to train.”
“He will,” Max said. “He’d never allow the best trainer in Deutschland to leave the school.”
She grinned.
“What other hopes to you have?”
A childhood memory of Norbie and hermutterholding hands flashed in her brain. “To someday have the type of relationship my parents had—filled with laughter and affection.”
Max smiled. “Would you like to have children?”
