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“Perchance to Dream, the Salomé’ Love Legacy,” Jonas said and winked at me.
I beamed at him. He remembered. “Yes. She sent out letters for performers and one letter had serendipitously reached my father.”
“A serendipitous letter, I like that,” Jonas grinned.
I smiled and ate my salad, then said, “My dad showed up with his viola and my mom said to him, ‘So what can you do with that fiddle.’”
Jonas exhaled. “That must have ruffled him,” he said.
I giggled. “Yep. He told her he was a Principal viola with the Boston Symphony.” I did my best impression of my father’s prideful voice. “He set out to edify her error and played a piece for her. She responded by telling him, ‘You’ll do.’” Jonas laughed. We finished our salad and our main dishes were served.
I moaned as the filet practically melted in my mouth.
“I like that sound, but I think the scream in the car was better,” Jonas said.
I flushed for him. “I can’t look at David anymore.”
“Don’t worry about him.” Jonas smirked. “He’s seen and heard worse.”
I scrunched my face. I didn’t want to hear about Jonas with someone else. “You pig.”
His eyes flashed and he lifted his chin. “I didn’t mean me. David has a life outside of driving me around you know.”
I casted my eyes down and took a sip of my wine. “Oh. Right. Apologies.”
“So what did your father say about your mother’s response to him?” he asked, smiling at me.
I beamed. “Oh, my father said, ‘She was so beautiful, I didn’t care about her silly pouting, I fell in love with her.’ And they married soon after.” My voice broke.
He reached over and squeezed my hand. “It’s my favorite story.”
“Thank you for sharing it with me,” Jonas said softly.
My smile quivered a little. “Thank you for tonight.”
“Dani enjoyed the opera, but preferred a Ravi Shankar or something with an Eastern flair. She was the inspiration for our trek through Kenya and trips to India.”
I sipped my wine then said, “I read about that in your last interview with Time Magazine. What was it like?”
He tilted his head in thought as he sipped his drink. “Thrilling, challenging, and remarkable. I’m happy I did that, but not on my list for the future.” We went back to our meals and finished. The waiter came by. “They are seating now, Mr. Crane.”
Jonas paid for the dinner ignoring my feeble attempt at offering to split the cost.
I licked my lips. “So, what is on your list for the future?”
He held out his hand to me. “Enjoying the opera with you, Tiger Lily.”
I looked down. “Don’t call me that,” I mumbled.
He trailed his hand down my arm, sending a shiver through me. “I enjoyed hearing the story behind it and I believe it suits you.”
My stomach fluttered as he took my elbow and steered me towards the balcony and our box for the opera.
As the curtain went up, Jonas took my hand and held on to it throughout the three acts of the performance. I sat in awe of the scenes, the swell of the arias, and the beauty of the hall. It was as if we had gone back in time. Part of me wished it would never end, as the finale marked an end of the night and the beauty of his company.
Jonas squeezed my hand during the final scene of Violetta and Giuseppe’s reunion, and in that moment a flutter went through my chest. I swiped under my eye pondering why falling in love was so painful. Picking up on my somber mood, Jonas rubbed gently on my hand.
I swallowed hard as we rose, and walked down the stairs and out of the hall. “Thank you.”
