“Yeah, well, it’s something I want to do.” Laine let a little of her social training slip and she brushed past the woman. She marched up the aisle toward the organ, lifted the massive cover, turned on the switch and adjusted the bench.
“A gift to your grandfather, or an excuse not to sit by your husband?” The woman appeared beside her.
Laine squared her shoulders and bit back a rude retort. She’d have to get used to the questions. Even if they weren’t asked so bluntly, they’d still be asked. Maybe not to her face, maybe behind her back, but the questions would be there, either in people’s eyes or on their lips. Laine wouldnotprovide answers.
The woman stood at her elbow. “If you’ve come to practice, where’s your music?”
Laine gave her a tight smile as she settled onto the bench. “I memorize.”
“If it’s already memorized, why are you practicing?”
For the first time Laine caught a hint of the woman’s French accent. “Who did you say you are again?”
“I didn’t say and you didn’t answer my question.”
Laine began adjusting the stops. “Every instrument is different. A pedal may be broken, the bench could wobble… I’ve learned from sad experience that it’s best to give every instrument a test run. I mean, an organ’s not like a violin. You can’t just bring your own.”
The woman cocked her head. “What would you know of sad experiences?”
Most people would say her life was charmed, but if she lived such a fairytale, why was she so sad?Because the prince she’d been kissing for most of her life had turned into a toad?
“Do I know you?” Laine asked, her fingers pausing above the keys.
The woman leaned against the organ. “I don’t know, do you?”
All of Laine’s politeness drained away. “I’m sorry. Idon’tknow you. And because I don’t know you, I don’t feel I need to share.” Laine hit the keys, a D minor chord, and music reverberated through the deserted chapel.
“Good for you.” The woman chuckled and hitched herself up on top of the organ. She had reed thin legs, pale as porcelain and covered with silky hose. She swung them back and forth, like a child pumping a swing, her heels rap-tapping the organ.
Laine lifted her fingers, horrified. The sudden cessation of music filled the room. “You can’tsiton this organ.” Her words echoed.
The woman cut her a sideways smile. She wore bright red shoes with ribbon ties on the ankles and the red heels continued bumping rhythmically against the organ. “No?”
“No. It’s a 1930’s Wurlitzer, solid walnut. It’s extremely valuable, and you’rekickingit.”
“You’re very rich.” The woman smiled, but didn’t budge or stop swinging her legs. “You could replace it.”
Laine hated being reminded of her money. It made her feel guilty and dirty. She supposed that’s why she worked so hard at the foundation. She pounded out the first line ofPie Jesuand said, through gritted teeth, “Get off!”
And to her surprise, the woman did. Laine almost stopped playing, but after watching the woman wander down the aisle, her hands trailing along the pews, Laine turned her full attention to the music swirling through the chapel and, for a moment, she felt better than she had in weeks.
***
Walking down Lily Street past the turn-of-the-last-century mansions, Laine pulled her blazer close, as if by buttoning it she could hold in all her broken pieces. The suit hung on her. She’d had to pin the back of the skirt to keep it from sliding off.At least wool breathes, she told herself, refusing to consider that wool, heat, nerves and sweat could, and most assuredly, would, cause a smelly combination.
When had she lost so much weight? How had that happened? Had she discovered the miracle weight-loss program? Could she market it? TheLose Your Guy, Lose Your Gutdiet?
Because she’d walked, she’d worn her flats, but stopping at the gate, watching her relatives, friends, and business associates climb from their cars in their suits, dresses, and heels, she considered going home and changing into something less worn. It’d seemed ridiculous to drive such a short distance, ridiculous to walk the three hilly blocks in heels, and it would be equally ridiculous to walk back and forth just to change her shoes. Of course, she could walk home and then drive for the return trip. But—then where would she park?
I’m stalling,she thought. Her eyes flicked over the cars lining the tiny street. This was supposed to be a private viewing, family and close friends only, and yet, somehow, her stepmother had managed to turn it into a celebrity photo opportunity. She told herself she wasn’t looking for Ian’s Mercedes, but she stopped checking the cars when he pulled up.
She stepped behind a mammoth rhododendron, and through the petals and branches, she watched him climb from his car. Despite the suit and graying hair at his temples, from a distance he looked nearly the same as he had in high school. Which just wasn’t right. She’d aged, why hadn’t he grown old beside her? The sprinklers had recently shut off and Laine’s flats sunk into a patch of mud. Her feet slipped slightly in the muck and she felt off balance and shaky.
A voice spoke in her ear. “Why are you hiding in that bush?”
Laine jumped and put her hand on her heart to slow its beating. She turned and scowled at the tiny woman at her elbow. “You!”
“You’ve got mud on your shoes and plant rubbish on your jacket.”
