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She smiled and looked at her hands. Was this all a dream?
“What’s so funny?”
“Mark Pierce is offering to help me relearn how to play the violin.” She laughed softly and shook her head. “Twelve-year-old me is screaming for joy inside.”
“What about twenty-one-year-old you?”
She smiled up at him. “She’s terrified.”
He cupped her chin. “I’ll be here, every step of the way.”
“I still don’t understand why.”
“You’re worth it.”
Why was he being so kind? “You barely know me.”
He shrugged. “I know enough.”
She shook her head, wishing things were different. Oh, how she wished things were different!
He motioned toward where they’d been standing earlier. “Go play again. You know you want to.”
She hesitated for a moment before jumping to her feet and picking the violin back up. Mark brought over a music stand and nodded. “I’ll give you some privacy.” He kissed her temple and walked up the stairs to the third floor.
She stared at the staircase for a long moment, then brought the violin to her shoulder and played.
Thirty-Three
Mark went upto his bedroom but left the door open so he could listen. He lay on his bed, staring up at the white wood-paneled ceiling, and listened to her struggle. Oh, she was determined. He didn’t want to interrupt her. She needed to get reacquainted on her own.
After a while, her sounds became smoother, more refined. He smiled. She was remembering.
The music stopped and didn’t start again. He sat up, wondering what happened.
“Mark?”
He jumped up and hurried downstairs to find her staring at her fingers.
“I think I may have overdone it,” she said, holding up her hands. Her middle finger was red and raw and bleeding. Her other ones were raw, but not bleeding. “Do you have a bandage?”
“Of course.” He retrieved some bandages from the bathroom and located a balm for her fingers. He held up the small container. “This will help the pain.”
She smiled. “I remember that stuff.” She rubbed some on her fingertips and sighed. “Feels better.” She struggled with the wrappers of the bandages and Mark took them from her, unpeeled the bandages, and wrapped them gently around her fingertips. “Thank you.” She slid her hand out of his.
“My pleasure,” he said, wishing he were still touching her. “Do you live far from here?”
She shook her head. “About a fifteen-minute walk.”
“Where do you live?”
“I shouldn’t say.”
He nodded, wondering why, but knowing she didn’t like to share a lot about herself. She’d shared plenty today.
“You’ll come tomorrow?” he asked as she packed up the violin with a soft smile on her face. He gave an approving nod as she loosened the bow before putting it back in the case. She remembered the important things. Leaving the bow tightened would warp the wood and destroy the bow. She ran a gentle hand over the violin before closing the case.
She studied her hands. “Depends on how my fingers are feeling.”
