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“So you only played in the band? I assumed you were an orchestra kid, Prof.”
The nickname slipped between Noah’s lips without a thought. What was he supposed to call him? How much would it take for his friend to know that Jax and Noah had been more than teacher and student together? Was that something either of them wanted him to know? Noah sure as hell didn’t.
He looked up to find Jax’s eyes on him, a sparkle of amusement and something more shining in them. Jax’s lips quirked upwards slightly before he turned away at the approach of the server with their drinks. Wishing he could think of something to say to steer the conversation away from himself, he sipped his drink and savored the sharp, refreshing tangof lemon.
“I’d forgotten they also make some of the best lemonade I’ve ever had,” Jim commented as though he was reading Noah’s mind, releasing a loud sigh of approval after he swallowedhisfirstmouthful.
“Can’t argue with that,” Jax echoed him.
The boys kept it from becoming more awkward, for which Noah was grateful, though he did wish they weren’t as curious about him as their questions proved.
“Do you like playing piano?”
Noah smiled. Even if it hurt to play sometimes, he loved it almost as much as he loved his violin.
“I do. Do you play an instrument?” Time to pull the attention away fromhis life.
Jim snorted before either of his sons could reply. “You’d sooner catch them playing stick ball on the street than sitting ata piano.”
“Aren’t there any music programs in their school?” Noah knew that the arts were taking a beating in public schools these days.
“Yes, but it’s nothing like what you’re imagining,” Jim answered with a shrug. “There’s a band—not a marching band—in their school and a choir, but that’s it. And the boys didn’t want to play the only instruments available when they went totry out.”
By the tone of his voice, Jim didn’t seem too broken up about that. It wasn’t a surprise really. Back when he was in elementary school, he’d been picked on because he played an instrument instead of ball.
“They can always pick it up later, if they’re interested. What did they wantto play?”
“I wanted to play the drums,” one twin said while the other chimed in with, “the tuba.”
Noah grinned at that. “Yeah, those instruments are tough to get into. In fact, I don’t recall the tuba being a choice back when I was in grade school.”
The server brought their food just then, and the next few minutes were spent passing around each person’s meal. Jim spared an extra minute to remind the boys of their table manners and then they dug in. It had been years since he’d last had a Johnny Marzetti and the creamy mac and cheese combined with the well-seasoned minced beef and Italian sausage mix had him closing his eyes in food bliss. Maybe he should order another serving to take home for dinner, so he wouldn’t have to figure out what to make.
“Good, is it?”
Noah opened his eyes then, embarrassed that he’d forgotten where he was in the throes of food ecstasy. Jax’s eyes were on him, gleaming with something like what Noah used to read as desire. But that was years ago. A lot of water had passed under the bridge since then, and he was under no illusion that the older man wanted him. He’d made his position abundantly clear on that fateful day when he’d sent Noah packing with his tail between his legs like a whipped puppy. He cleared his throat and sipped his lemonade to give himself time to let loose of the bitter thought.
“Very,” he replied and went back tohis food.
Jim and Jax carried on a conversation without him, but he heard snippets of what they were discussing. Some older guy had been a perv when Jax was in college … a professor. Wow! Wasthatthe reason Jax had broken things off? The guy had been a repeat offender, apparently, and the behavior had been going on for years before someone squealed and the university put its foot down.
Noah wondered idly if that was the kind of thing the boys should be listening in on, but when he turned his attention to them, they were busily playing some kind of finger wrestling game and managing to get ketchup all over themselves. Maybe he should step in before their dad noticed and they got into trouble.
“You guys better watch it or your dad will get mad that you’re making a mess.”
He spoke just loudly enough that Jim heard him and turned his eyes to his sons. They immediately straightened up and went back to their food and the conversation became general again.
“You know,” Jim pointed a French fry at Noah. “I’ve been puzzling over why I feel like I recognize you.”
Noah stiffened but tried to keep a straight face. He had been happy to remain incognito, but he should have known it wouldn’t last long. People may not know him from his Broadway work, but anyone who loved most kinds of music had at least heard of the Barrington String Quartet, because they formed a bridge between the classics and contemporary music and had made a name for themselves in the States and around the world. Thinking of the quartet now and about what he’d lost sent a sharp pain lancing though him and Noah winced, despite his best effort to remain cool.
“You’re that virtuoso violinist in the string quartet that’s been taking the world by storm lately. Your dad lives over on Pinehill and Crescent, right? A really cool old guy with a lot of stories about the places he’s been to in his work. I’ll bet you have some stories of your own, huh?”
“Probably not as cool as my dad’s,” Noah answered with a self-deprecating chuckle. He was nowhere near as good a storyteller as his father, and he hadn’t paid as much attention to many of the places he’d been to as he should have because he’d been too caught up in his work, too married to reaching for perfection to stop and smell the roses. “He’s the storyteller in the family.”
“What’s been your favorite placeto visit?”
Noah was stumped. He’d been to Europe at least once every year for the last six, usually on tour with the quartet. They’d played concerts in the usual big cities—Athens, London, Paris, Rome—as well as in the Caribbean and across North and South America. The quartet had had to postpone its planned tours of Russia and Dubai because of his accident, and he had been too bitter to participate fully in the choice of his substitute. The woman was only going to be there for the duration of those tours, but Noah had barely had anything to say to her once she’d been auditioned and chosen. They’d spent the last six months getting her up to speed and within the next month or so, they would resume their schedule without him.
