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“Did you make that?” asked Zig, when his laugh had subsided.
“I did. And I’ll have you know it’s a candle holder.”
“A candle holder?” asked Zig. “You definitely were following your own drum there, Picasso.”
“I was a child genius. I made this for Christmas when I was five.”
“I can see why your parents kept it,” said Ethan, grinning.
“They knew a great doorstop when they saw it,” said Tom.
Kate lifted her chin, striking a haughty pose. “It needs a candle to have the full effect.”
“It’s beautiful, Kate,” said Ethan. “In a very arty way, of course, it makes its own statement.”
Kate made a face as the laughter continued, and her spirits lifted. The holder was obviously a piece only a parent would have praised. And it had come out for most Christmases, a candle in place, along with other equally amazing childhood projects. It felt good to see it in Ethan’s hands, giving her a private look as he studied it. She felt only warmth that he could share that small bit of her childhood and understand. She could feel that understanding, and she acknowledged it with a smile.
“Wow,” said Tracy, picking up one of the albums. “You have some early Prometheus Bound albums. That is so cool. I love that band. They are the best. And so mysterious.”
Kate glanced at Ethan and saw he’d paled.
“Oh my God, here’s the first one in LP. I only have it on my Spotify playlist. It’s tough to get hold of.” She held it up to the rest of the group, her eyes shining. “It’s the only album that has an image of the band in it. And even in this album all you can see of Elijah Harmon is his torso. The others at least you can see their faces. When they perform, he wears a sweatshirt with the hood up so you can’t see his face.”
“Who’s Elijah?” asked Kate.
“He’s the lead singer,” said Tracy. She beamed at Kate. “This is such a good album. You should have a listen.” said Tracy. She looked over at Zig. “You have some of their albums, don’t you? Do you have the first one?”
Zig nodded, his eyes carrying a trace of amusement. “I do. Somewhere.”
“What are they like?” asked Tom. “I’ve heard of them, and think I might have listened to one or two of theirs along the way.”
Kate looked over at Ethan again, wondering if he would mention that he wrote songs for the band, but he only stared down at one of the ornaments he’d picked up from an open box.
“Ethan writes some of the songs for them,” said Zig. “Or with them.”
Ethan looked over at Zig and narrowed his eyes.
“No way,” said Tracy, swiveling her head around to face Ethan. “You have got to be kidding me. That is seriously unbelievable.”
“Oh, that’s right,” said Tom smiling at Ethan. “I think Dad mentioned something about that. Good one.”
Kate watched the exchange silently, trying to understand Ethan’s emotions. Was a distraction needed?
“Hey, why don’t you play one for us?” asked Tom. “Give us an idea what they’re like. Or give me an idea, in any case.” He looked over at Kate. “Do you know Prometheus Bound?”
Kate shook her head. “No. But then I’m not a current music expert. I’m afraid my recent forays have all been in opera.”
“Opera?” asked Tom. He laughed. “Opera? Really?” He shook his head. “Can’t imagine it, sorry.”
She stuck her tongue at him. “I like my art to be informed by a broad experience.”
He leaned over and picked up the clay candle holder. “I can see that your pieces are informed by something.”
“Ethan,” said Zig, “why not play ‘Navigation’? Give them an idea of what your song was like before it became a Prometheus Bound song.”
Ethan and Zig shared a silent exchange that Kate tried to decipher. She knew of his feeling for the band, but was it something more?
Ethan sighed and rose, and retrieved his 1920s Martin parlor guitar. A sweet, clear sound emitted from it as he struck up the notes, his fingers skimming over the strings and framing the chords. Soon his own warm, rich baritone filled the room.
