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My thoughts turned back to that day, years ago. I could still see the old TV—not a flat screen, not yet—and our family room that was warm and brown and smelled of maple wood and orange spice.
“It was like I was seeing a future version of myself,” I said to Noah. “I told my parents I wanted to play how she was playing. Standing up, while all the rest of the violinists were sitting down. I wanted that, not for the accolades. It wasn’t—and still isn’t—for that. Before I knew what a concerto was or could name an opera, I knew that soloist was singing for the composer. Her music was the beating heart of the piece and I…I wanted to be that.” I shook my head at the memory, quelling the strange longing that welled in my heart. “Anyway, that’s how it started.”
Noah was quiet for a moment, then said, “And you were good. More than good.”
“I guess so. It turned out that I had…an aptitude.”
“You were a prodigy, you mean.”
“Yes, that’s the word, I guess. But my parents wanted me to have a normal life with a normal school experience and normal friends. So I took lessons and played in the local orchestras, instead of going off to some big concert hall or recording studio.”
“Do you resent that? You could have been a big star, early on.”
“No, I’m grateful. I didn’t want to be apart from my parents, or Montana, or…Chris. I thought the music would always be there and so I was content to wait. I got a partial scholarship to Juilliard, but then…things got rough during my senior year.”
“Your brother,” Noah said quietly.
“Yes. But also…well, there was a guy. A boyfriend. It ended right after Chris passed, and I…” I rubbed my arms. “Anyway, I wasn’t doing so well after that.”
“This boyfriend, he broke up with you or vice-versa?”
“He broke up with me.”
Noah sat up and laid his arm along the back of the bench, behind my shoulders. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No, I’m not, and aren’t you supposed to be behaving yourself?”
“Yeah, but…” He carved his hands through his hair, his eyes seeking me and missing. “This guy…he broke up with you? Right after your brotherdied?”
I nodded.
“Hello?”
“Oh, uh, yes,” I said. “But it’s no big deal. Bad timing. The perfect storm of horrible shit happening at once.”
“Bad timing.” Noah rapped his fingers on the bench. “That’s it?”
I glanced at him askance. “You sure are nosy.”
“I’m a journalist—orwas, in a past life. I never left a story unfinished. Don’t leave me hanging here. This guy sounds like he needs a good ass kicking. What happened?”
I could feel my face screw up in perplexity as I regarded this man sitting next to me. “Okay, I’ll tell you, on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Quid pro quo, Clarice. You have to answer the question I asked you at the start of our walk. Why you don’t want to learn to be blind.”
He frowned, looked about to protest, and then nodded. “Fair enough.”
I told Noah about Chris’s death and coming back to Juilliard to find Keith had moved on with another woman. I shook my head, remorse and shame burning my cheeks and my heart aching with old pain that never seemed to diminish.
“I fell for Keith completely,” I confessed. “And when I say fell, I really mean it. I fell forhim, but I also fell for his bullshit and lies. He was my first love, my first…lots of things.” I cleared my throat. “He told me he loved me, and I did something really stupid.”
“Which was?”
“I believed him.”
“That’s not your fault, Charlotte,” Noah said in a low voice.
