Page 54 of House of Clouds


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She becomes my true North Star, so I pick up my guitar

And with all my skills and art, I tell her all that’s in my heart,

Be my Rossetti girl, my Rossetti girl, my Rossetti girl.

When the song comes to the end, I hope her look’s not as a friend

She lays her finger on my lips, with my heart now in her grip

She whispers sweetly in my ear, I will always be right here,

As your Rossetti girl, your Rossetti girl, your Rossetti girl.

The song finished, Kate only pretending to play by the time the last lingering chord sounded. Phil had stepped in with the mandolin, and Tom had taken up his guitar to take some of the chorus and to lend a fuller sound to the song. Her dad hadn’t ever intended such a sound, but it didn’t matter now. It was her fault, and she realized that she was more a liability up there than an asset. When the song finished and the applause sounded, Phil came around from the drum set and picked up the mandolin, stepping up to the mike to share it with Tom. She used that opportunity to slip off the back of the stage and head toward the kitchen and the back door.

* * *

Tiny shards of broken glass glinted in the spotlight just by the back door and closer, near the steps, cigarette butts littered the area. Kate started to count them, noticing a few hadn’t even been crushed, and a few still had tobacco spilling from their ends. She almost wished for a cigarette now. She’d never really smoked, unless you counted the clove cigarettes she’d tried in her sophomore year of college. Missy, a dedicated smoker of all things herbal, thought they were hilariously pretentious, and her ridicule had caused Kate to stop.

Behind her, the back door opened and someone came down the few steps to sit beside her on the last one. She didn’t need to look across to know it was Ethan. His scent, his “Ethanness,” greeted her, and spoke all the words she did and didn’t want to hear. She realized there was no sound of music playing inside. Were they finished in there? Had she really been sitting there that long? She played with the ring on her finger for a moment and then dropped her hands so that they dangled off her knees.

They sat for a few moments in silence until Ethan nudged her. “You were good in there.”

She snorted. “Did you lose your hearing? You were the one who was good.”

“Kate,” he said, “youweregood. Youaregood. The fact that something happened to cause you to freeze doesn’t mean you aren’t good.”

She shook her head and gave another snort. “I was good. A long time ago. But that was then, and I don’t belong anywhere near a stage now.” She said it with conviction and meaning that should convince her heart as well as Ethan.

“Are you sure? Because I have to disagree with you. And I’m not alone.”

She looked over at him quickly. “What do you mean? You haven’t been talking to the others about me, have you?”

“I didn’t have to. I could tell, and the few remarks that Phil and Tom made only reinforced my own thoughts about your talent.”

She frowned, looking away, not wanting to hear the words. “I can play music, sure. But loads of other people can, and it doesn’t mean I should be up on a stage. I’m a different kind of artist now. That’s where my real talent is.”

“Does it only have to be one talent? One area?” he said after a few moments.

Something about the words, the tone, made Kate wonder for a moment if he was directing this question to her alone.

“Maybe not. But for now, my photographic artwork is where I’m devoting my energies.”

“But you clearly love music so much. Can’t you at least allow yourself to play it for your own enjoyment?”

She clasped her fingers together and rubbed her thumbs agitatedly. “You don’t understand. Just leave it.”

“What happened?” he asked softly. “Why did you stop? Was it Missy?”

She whipped her head around toward him. “What did they tell you?”

Ethan shrugged. “Tom just said that your best friend died, and you haven’t played music since then. Is that why you went to Paris?”

“It was an opportunity. Who wouldn’t want to go to Paris?”

“And never come back?”

She scowled at him. “I’ve been back.”

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