I grinned. “That’s like my husband here, he’s really into techno.”
“Oh, are you?” Jackie exclaimed. “I love techno, too. Who are your favorites?” she said, leaning forward.
Dustin bit his lip. I had to give it to him, he did a good job of appearing to be thinking really hard. “Moby’s fantastic.”
“I love Moby,” Jackie said, and I wondered if she loved Moby too, or if she was just saying that because it was Dustin who said it.
“And there’s this DJ, Girltalk. He’s quite good,” Dustin added.
“Girltalk? What a funny name for a DJ!” Jackie said. “I haven’t heard of him.”
I looked at Coach Slanch and his wife. She was staring intently at the wine in her glass, and I hoped Coach Slanch was going to do something nice for her for dragging her along.
The servants came in and cleared off the table, and to my relief, we started a new conversation about the midseason all-star break and whether it should last four days or five. I was happy to space out for a minute, and pulled a Mrs. Slanch, staring at my wine for a few moments.
I focused again when the table quieted down, and I noticed Mr. Bells holding up his glass.
“Let’s toast to a happy marriage for the LeBlancs. I have to say, Dustin, when I first saw the video that Jackie brought to my attention, I thought this was some sort of publicity stunt, or a cry for attention, like your New Year’s escapades. But I can see Catarina is cut from a different cloth. She’s classy. And maybe I was quick to judge you two. I can already sense a change coming from you. Let’s hope it translates over to the ice. Here here!”
We all clinked our glasses together, and I got smiles and eye contact from everyone—everyone except Jackie Bells.
I wondered what she was thinking as we locked eyes. Though I filled mine with kindness, hers seemed filled with anger.
I didn’t quite know what to make of it.
After dessert, I excused myself to go to the bathroom, and on my way back, a room caught my eye.
I saw a picture of a young Mr. Bells, standing next to Paul McCartney, shaking hands.
Even though I thought The Beatles were overrated, I could appreciate the significance of a picture like that.
“In the sixties, I owned a music hall. We were the first place that booked Paul and John for their American tour.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I realized I’d been caught gawking and hanging out in the doorframe.
“Oh,” I remarked. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “Go on inside. I want to show you something.” Moving slowly, he stopped in front of a shelf full of vinyl records, then pulled one out. “You know, I’ve only got a few copies of this one left.”
“What is it?”
“This is from their 1968 show in Chicago. They started the set withNorwegian Wood.”
His eyes got sort of glazed over, and he went over and put it on the record player.
They sounded great live, although the screams from the audience created a slight distraction.
“It’s not often I meet someone who’s an aficionado of The Beatles like I am. And my, that story about how you and Mr. LeBlanc met is precious.”
Pangs of guilt rode my stomach, now. I waved my hand. “Oh, It’s nothing. Just an insignificant detail.”
He clenched his jaw and looked at me sternly. “There are no insignificant details,” he said. Turning the record off, he slipped it back into its casing and held it out to me.
“Wouldn’t you know, I met my wife Rita, may she rest in peace, at a Beatles concert during the same song. I don’t believe that’s a coincidence. Here, take it.”
“I couldn’t,” I said. “That looks like a rare copy. I don’t think it’s my place.”
“I can see in Dustin’s eyes that he loves you. It’s lovely to see. I’ve made up my mind that I’m not going to trade him in spite of his antics this past year. Although Jackie has been trying to convince me to trade him, and I respect her view, I’m going to have to overrule her on this one. Now come on, I’m old and my arm is getting tired from holding this thing out in front of me.”
