Page 42 of Solo

I get to my feet and offer her a hand up, which she accepts. She follows me back into the kitchen.

“Do you have a piano at home?”

“No, not now. There’s one in my father’s house in Virginia. That’s the one I learned on. And sometimes I can use the grand piano in the concert hall at school. But, usually I’m stuck with the uprights in the practice rooms. I kind of forfeited my time on the ‘good’ pianos after I switched from being a piano major to conducting.”

“I’d forgotten you’d been a piano major,” I say as I grab my coat and boots from the mudroom and sit at the kitchen table to lace-up. “Why did you switch?”

She rolls her eyes.

“Russ. He can be very…persuasive.”

This makes me laugh. She’s right, he can be. But not in any conventional way.

“What did he do?” I ask, knowing there’s more to this story.

“He caught me ‘air conducting’ Beethoven one night and informed me that I was a conductor. I got a whole speech on how concert pianists are a dime a dozen, but a conductor like me—” She stops abruptly, her face reddening.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, it just sounds so vain when I say it out loud.”

Now she’s got me curious. I know Russ Atherton well enough to know he only says what he means—whether you want to hear it or not.

“It’s okay. What did he say?” I coax.

She clears her throat and looks down at the floor, studying her feet as she recounts the conversation.

“He told me that concert pianists are a dime a dozen, but that a truly gifted conductor only comes along once in a generation. He compared me to Bernstein and Toscanini. I mean, I know I’ll never be like that—like them—but he was so convincing, I just had to drop everything else and study with him.”

“Katherine,” I say, waiting until she raises her cool-blue eyes again. “Russ is one of the greatest conductors I’ve ever seen and his instincts for music are spot on. So, I’ve got news for you, if that man says you’re the next Leonard Bernstein, then you’re the next Leonard Bernstein.”

I head for the door before she can respond. “Okay, I’ll be outside for a while. Enjoy the piano,” I say with a wave as I shrug my parka on then head out the back door, leaving her stunned by what I’ve just said, and me stunned that I said it.

…

It takes me a good forty-five minutes to get through the snow and back down to the asphalt and I’m sweating my ass off by the time I’m done. I lose the coat before I can even get the blower back into the garage. By the time I’m stamping the snow off my boots, I’m also minus my hat, gloves, and scarf. I’m just heading back into the kitchen when I hear it.

At first, I’m not sure what it is that I’m listening to. The tune is so familiar that it stops me in my tracks. But still, I can’t quite place it. I find myself drawn from the kitchen, down the hall and into the den, where Katherine’s sitting at the piano, playing. I watch her left hand walk across the keys while her right hand flips to the next page.

That’s when I realize what the music is. That’s when she realizes that I’m standing there, watching her. I’m not quite sure what she sees, but the music stops abruptly and I catch a shadow of fear cross her face. She jumps to her feet and steps away from the piano bench as if it were scorching hot.

“I…I’m sorry, Dr. Markham,” she stammers and I can see she’s poised to run up the stairs again.

“Drew,” I correct her absently as I walk to the piano and glance at the handwritten pages she’s just been playing. “I, uh—it’s just that I haven’t heard that piece in a long time. Years, actually.”

I watch the color drain from her already pale face.

“Please don’t be angry. I—it was the music. I couldn’t help glancing at it and then I just had to hear it,” she breathes. “I never should have…”

Whatever my expression is, it’s clearly scaring the hell out of her. I will myself to calm down and I force a smile on my face.

“No, really, it’s fine. You just took me by surprise. That’s all.”

But Katherine Brenner doesn’t look convinced. “You know, maybe I should go read upstairs. Give you your space. I’ve disrupted your whole routine and now I’ve gone and stuck my foot in it…again.”

She’s shaking her head, rebuking herself internally even as she’s talking to me. She starts to walk around the piano, but I stop her, reaching out and gently grabbing her upper arm as she tries to pass me.

“It’s all right, Katherine,” I say quietly. “It was actually kind of nice to hear it again.”