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He took both her hands, squeezing them tightly, the ring cutting in sharply against her right palm, where it had been pressed. “You must, Katerina. It’s important. To you, to your career. And it will help you now. Give you something to focus on.”
She looked at him, the irritation she’d felt before suddenly back. How did he know what would help her? How could he presume that?
“No,” she said, placing the ring on the table in front of him. “I’m not going with you. I’m staying here. For now. And if I can, I will work on the art pieces, but at the moment, I can’t focus enough. My mind and emotions are scattered God knows where. But I do know that Italy is one place I won’t find them.”
She rose, pushing back her chair, her half-finished bowl of oatmeal in her hand. “I’m going to get dressed now.” She placed the bowl in the sink, resolving to deal with it later and left the kitchen, leaving Giancarlo gripping the ring, distraught. The silence echoed through the house as she climbed the stairs to her room, feeling numb.
Twenty-Six
Kneeling on the living room floor, Tom studied the violin case in front of him. He’d brought it down from their father’s room to join the rest of the instruments that were spread out across the living room floor. The long drapes were pulled back from the window, letting in the light, as well as revealing the dust and general disorder of the room. The dining room was no different, and if anything, the yawning space in the middle of it where the hospital bed had been seemed to have gathered more dust and dirt than anywhere else. A spare drip stand still stood pushed up in the corner and the lamp and bed stand that they’d set up for their father was still there, the former lying on the floor and the latter still in the original position Tom had placed it.
“I have no idea where this violin came from,” said Tom, shaking his head. “Do you, Kate?”
Kate shook her head from her place seated on the floor nearby, Max sprawled beside her, watching them all. “Could it have been Mom’s?”
Tom shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe. There might be something inside to tell us whose it was.”
Ethan, squatting on the floor next to Tom, spoke up. “Maybe there’s something in one of your father’s files. He insured these instruments, right? I mean some are pretty valuable.”
Tom looked at Kate, the question in his eyes. She shook her head slowly. “I have no idea.”
“I’ll look in his desk upstairs,” said Tom, rising. “Kate, you look inside the case and see if you can discover anything.”
Kate nodded and Tom headed up the stairs. She looked at Ethan. “Thanks for coming. I mean, I don’t know if it’s a good idea to look at these instruments now, but Tom seemed to think so.”
Ethan smiled at her, a lock of hair falling across his brow. His hair had grown enough now that it approached the way she remembered it from ten years ago. In fact, dressed in the sweatshirt and jeans as he was now, it could have been ten years ago. And in some ways, she wished it was. That she could have a chance to make those years better.
“Are you doing okay?” he asked.
He glanced down at her bare finger, concern in his face. She hadn’t told him directly what had happened between her and Giancarlo and she didn’t know if Tom had told him anything of what he knew, which was only that Giancarlo had gone back to Italy, and she was staying here for now. But Tom had noticed the absence of the ring and thankfully had chosen not to comment on it. Perhaps it was because she hadn’t asked any questions about the status of his relationship with Tamzin, who Kate hadn’t seen or heard from since the funeral.
“Yes, no,” she said, shrugging. “I don’t know.” She gave him a weak smile.
“I can imagine,” he said. “And this can’t be easy,” he said, indicating the array of instruments.
She sighed. “It’s actually all right. I mean we aren’t doing anything but looking at them. It’s not like we’re selling them, right? Just wanting to know what’s there. And in a way, it’s like being with my dad. Holding the guitars, or the mandolin, even. It even makes me feel like my mother’s here.”
She knew she was rambling, uttering random thoughts that were as scattered as she felt, but Ethan just nodded, an understanding expression on his face. She somehow knew he appreciated the instruments, not only objectively as a musical instrument but as a holder of memories, as something that had a personality with its quirks and sound, like a cat or dog who was a long-term family member. The mandolin had a slightly buzzy “E” string unless the peg was given a quarter turn upward before it was tuned. And one guitar had a fractionally wider neck than usual, so the fingers had to be positioned in a slightly different position, especially the third finger. But for all that trouble, it had a really deep rich sound.
“I’m glad you don’t mind this,” said Ethan. He ran his hand lovingly along the Gibson guitar he held. “It’s certainly a privilege for me to be able to get a chance to see all the instruments and try them out. I knew your father had some good ones, and he let me play a few, but I didn’t realize he had this many.”
Kate laughed. “Yeah, he collected a few over the years. Couldn’t help himself. His closet housed more instruments than clothes. Mostly guitars. And my mother’s mandolin and guitar. He’d never get rid of them.”
“Do you play mandolin?” Ethan asked.
“A little. I was more the guitar girl, though. And then piano for a while, like Tom.”
“Did Tom play the mandolin at all?”
Kate shook her head. “No, he never bothered.”
“And no one played the violin that you know of.” He indicated the violin case on her lap.
Kate looked down at it. Max moved over and nudged her hand, signaling she should pet him. Absentmindedly, she stroked his head while she flipped up the lid of the case and examined the inside of it.
Laid in its bed of deep blue velvet, the violin seemed old, the shellac that coated it faded, the wood scratched. Horsehair hung loose from the bow inserted in the lid. She lifted out the violin. The strings were loose and would most likely break if she tuned it, but still, there was something about it that seemed homely, comfortable. She handed it over to Ethan to examine while she explored the small compartment in the case. When she lifted its lid, she saw a desiccated block of rosin and a couple of spare strings in packets. Under the packets she found a woven silk bracelet of gold, green, and brown. She picked it up and held it for Ethan to see.
“What is it?” he asked.
