My eyes narrowed. She wanted something. There was no other explanation for the cleaning, the decorating, and the cookies. “What do you want?”
Her eyes filled with hurt, and I could’ve kicked myself.
“Nothing. I just thought…”
I waited for her to finish her sentence while Mariah sang about what wonderful a child Jesus was. The bounce of the song didn’t match the slump in Aubrey’s shoulders.
“Hey, I didn’t mean that,” I said. “I appreciate the cookie. And the decorating. And all of the cleaning, too.”
A ghost of a smile returned, and she shrugged. “I had the day off so I thought it was high time we got into the spirit. Wanna watch a Christmas movie with some hot chocolate?”
Yeah, I kinda did.
But I couldn’t.
“I would like to, but I have to work. I still haven’t figured out what’s wrong with this contract.”
“Oh.”
Was she actually disappointed that I didn’t want to sit down and watch a movie with her? Usually we barely acknowledged each other’s presence when one of us arrived home.
“I’ll, uh, put these cookies away and go work in the basement then,” she said as she walked over to Miss Ruth’s ancient stereo system and cut off the music.
Out of nowhere a bell rang, and she grinned. The way the smile lit up her face took my breath away. Before I could fully process that feeling, she had gone downstairs. I took another cookie and sat down at the table to look over the cursed contract yet again.
I’d been workingfor an hour, and it was so quiet I could almost hear a lack of sound. It was odd, very odd. Usually, Aubrey had to have the television on. Or the stereo. Or she’d be singing along with her headphones. Or sawing away at her violin.
I ran a hand through my hair in frustration.
Of course!
Ezekiel Angelo was well known for having odd riders added to his appearance contracts, and it was common knowledge that he’d added a new one as of late: Beethoven. Why Beethoven? I did not know, but I remember a friend of mine who worked for our soft drink company partner telling me about how they had to have Beethoven playing in the green room.
I pumped a fist and hastily sent an email to Ezekiel’s agent, saying that I would be happy to add a rider about Beethoven to the contract. Not a one of the other former players had a stipulation aboutnotplaying music, so it shouldn’t be a problem.
My elation was short-lived.
No, it was more that it had been replaced with a different feeling. I itched to share my news with someone.
I should probably check on Aubrey anyway, to make sure something hadn’t happened to her. After all, I didn’t know she was capable of being quiet for this long.
But first…
I puttered around the kitchen gathering the ingredients for hot chocolate and then knocked on the basement door. “Aubrey? Still up for that movie?”
She didn’t answer. That wasn’t like her at all. I knocked again, louder this time.
Now I was getting concerned.
I took a deep breath and went down the stairs. She stood at an easel with her back to the door. Music spilled from her headphones, and she bobbed her head in time with the beat while she worked.
She was painting a sleigh bell like the one I’d heard earlier, only she’d really captured the shadow and light. She’d placed the bell slightly off center. It was a ridiculously engaging painting for the simplicity of the subject.
Along the wall were stacked several canvases where she’d been trying modern styles and landscapes, portraits and surrealism. On a table to the back were stacks of paintings she’d made on glass. She’d experimented with wood and ceramics too.
It felt as though I were looking into Aubrey’s mind, and it was a place that dazzled with a million ideas she hadn’t yet figured out how to implement.
When she paused in her painting, I lightly touched her shoulder, and she startled so hard she almost dropped her brush.
