Chapter 13
Dmitri
Watching Ever perform a piece he composed is like getting a peek at his soul. And it is beautiful. Given the number of people who stop him as he weaves his way through the tables, everyone else thinks so, too.
“Glad you made it.” He slides onto the stool next to me.
The gentle brush of his lips against my cheek sets off a flurry of quivers, but before I can tug him to me and show him how much I’ve missed him since leaving his bed this morning, he jumps into introductions. “Dmitri this is Kian. Kian, Dmitri.”
I shake the guitarist’s hand. “You two were amazing. The feel the guitar and cello create when they play together is like none other.”
“Thanks, man. We have a good time.” Kian punches Ever’s arm. “Right, Ev?”
Conall presents a mug of dark draft to Ever and a lighter one to Kian. “Loved the song, Ever. You have any more originals?”
“Nothing that’s good enough to share.” Ever brings the mug to his mouth and I find my gaze transfixed to the self-deprecating smile and particularly the soft lips that tore me apart with their perfection only to build me back up with each tender kiss last night.
Kian reaches around Ever to snag his beer. “What about that one you wrote for a quartet?”
Ever brushes him off with an off-handed comment, and we all fall into an easy conversation about music, the seemingly endless Maplewood festivals, and how the Rocktogenarians are a shoo-in to win the amateur contest at the music festival next month.
But I’m more focused on the warmth of Ever’s knee pressed to mine, and his seemingly constant touches.
There’s something about the intimacy of his public affection that feels easy and affirming.
I realize, not for the first time, what an asshole Sebastian was.
Not because he’s engaged to the person he was cheating on me with, nor because of how it affected my career, although those are two good ones for the case of his assholeness.
No, now I see how he parsed out affection to keep me on a short leash.
Like a puppy who is eager to please and lives for the next caress, the next kiss, the next loving word.
Pathetic? Yes. And I owe Zemira a phone call with the requisite, You were right, and I was wrong . From now until eternity, she’ll remind me of it anytime I don’t listen to her advice. But with a friend like Zemira, the ribbing is totally worth it.
I rest my palm on Ever’s thigh, something I would have only tried in a dark restaurant with a tablecloth to act as cover with Sebastian and risk the reprimand later.
My cheeks warm with my expanding chest when the heat of his hand covers mine and he threads our fingers together, without the slightest pause as he and Conall debate the validity of a recent cryptid sighting.
Apparently, a group of teens having a party in the woods last night spotted Mabel. They were so scared they called the police to escort them out, despite knowing they’d get in trouble for underage drinking.
“Ever.” A tall brunette dressed in black with a violin case strapped to her back waves as she strides toward us.
“Bianca!” Ever jumps from the stool, wrapping his arms around the stunning woman. Instantly, I miss the connection, but I need not worry because as soon as he releases the woman, he slings his arm around my shoulders to pull me into the conversation. “What are you doing here?”
Bianca throws her thumb over her shoulder. “Icelyn’s parking. We had a gig in Glen Hill and were hoping to catch your performance.”
“That’s sweet, but we just finished our set.” Ever tips his mug between Kian and him.
Bianca pushes out her bottom lip, making her look more like a young girl and less like the runway model who walked into the pub. “Well that sucks.”
“We missed it?” A shorter woman with a round face and skin that looks as smooth as glass inserts herself into the conversation.
“Hey, Ice.” Ever hugs her, then slips his arm around my waist. “This is Dmitri Fairchild.”
Bianca’s mouth drops open. The woman is a walking example of wearing your emotions on your face.
“ The Dmitri Fairchild?” Her hand flutters in front of her face and she starts breathing so heavily, her breaths take on a wheezing quality and I’m afraid she’s having an asthma attack. “Of the Philadelphia Orchestra?”
I side-eye Ever, who’s biting his bottom lip like he’s fighting back laughter.
Sure, sometimes I’m recognized, mostly in Philadelphia.
But I’m not Hilary Hahn or Joshua Bell, who are world-renowned soloists, and deserve that kind of recognition.
I rub the back of my neck, hoping this doesn’t involve an interrogation of what happened.
“Um… I used to play with the Philadelphia Orchestra, yes.”
“You’re the reason I stayed with the violin.
The reason I teach.” She grabs my hand with both of hers, squeezing tight.
“You and some other students from Curtis performed, taught master classes, and then did a Q&A at a summer camp I attended. You were so kind and talked about the importance of musicians of all capabilities. That we didn’t need to be famous soloists or play in the top orchestras to make a difference.
” Her words tumble out with a swiftness of pace common of people from large cities, and she releases my hand with a final squeeze.
“I was a senior in high school and had been told by my violin teacher that I’d never make it as a professional in music. ”
I clench my teeth to keep from going off on what a jerk her teacher was.
How there are too many elite and non-elite musicians who think being pricks and cutting people down is the way to foster success.
If anything, it’s the way to kill a musician’s passion and love for the music. “You said you teach?”
She raises her chin with the pride of someone who loves what they do.
“I’m the music director for the New Island high school.
In the last five years, we’ve added a strings program and have a full orchestra.
When we received an invitation to play at the State Capital this year, the kids were beside themselves. ”
“Bianca has significantly enhanced their program. She’s done an amazing job of getting the kids and the community involved.” Icelyn runs her hand up and down Bianca’s back, pride written all over her face. “The orchestra has become the pride of the town.”
Bianca gives Icelyn a one-armed hug. “Awe, thanks.”
“That’s impressive. Especially with high schoolers.” I shift closer to Ever to allow a couple to squeeze past on their way to the bar. “It just shows the power of fostering an appreciation and love for the music.”
Ever’s arm tightens around me. “Dmitri started giving lessons at the Harmonic Circus.”
“That’s why I was late.” I gesture to my violin case tucked safely under the bar between our stools.
“Jagger brought friends. I ended up giving a group lesson and scheduling a few more private lessons while I’m here.
There was talk of forming a quartet, which surprised the heck out of me.
” I shake my head, still unable to wrap my head around how much this little town is seeping into my soul.
“Chamber music and playing in quartets is my love, but I’ve never had elementary school-aged children express an interest. I’m not even sure what that would look like. What music would they play?”
Bianca bounces on her toes, clapping her hands together with enthusiasm. “You could have them do any of the beginner songs as a quartet rather than a full orchestra.”
“That would be adorable.” Icelyn nods in agreement.
“You could do a quartet now.” Conall appears out of nowhere with a wink and one red and one white glass of wine for Bianca and Icelyn. They must be regulars, because he knew what they wanted without them ordering.
Bianca’s eyes sparkle and she does a little hop. “We should. To play with Dmitri Fairchild would be a dream.”
I’m beyond flattered that she thinks it’s a dream to play with me. Icelyn is nodding her head, and I raise a questioning brow at Ever.
He smiles and lifts his shoulders like there’s no arguing with the two. Not that it seems he would. “I’m up for it if you are.”
I look around the room. “You’re sure your patrons won’t mind?”
“Are you kidding?” Conall jumps onto the bar top, clinking a spoon against a glass. The conversations dim, and all eyes turn to him. “Who wants to hear Ever, Dmitri, and the ladies play?”
A cheer goes up.
Ever grins. “Looks like we’re in.”
Icelyn watches me with banked interest while Bianca continues to bounce, as if her excitement is popping out of her in small bursts. Conall jumps down, continuing to dole out drinks and dating advice, while flirting his way down the bar.
Other than playing for the bees with Ever, I haven’t done an impromptu performance in years.
When I was in high school, there was always someone skipping class to hang out in the orchestra room, so impromptu playing was the norm.
Even at Curtis, where the pressure to be the best was ever present, students would find relief in playing for the sake of playing.
But somewhere along the way, I let what I was supposed to do overrun what I wanted.
In Maplewood, it’s so easy to choose what I want to do instead of letting expectations interfere.
“Let’s do it.” I grab my violin as Bianca shimmies her hips and Icelyn gives a quick nod.
We spend the next hour playing Beethoven, Mozart, and Haydn.
The atmosphere changes as we learn each other’s style and blend together, bringing the audience with us.
It’s fun, and once again I wonder at how little by little I lost the joy that only playing brings.
But with every day I spend in this little town, that joy is returning.
Now that I’m unearthing it, how do I keep this feeling from disintegrating again?