The Seventh Veil of Salome by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

Author:Silvia Moreno-Garcia [Moreno-Garcia, Silvia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Worlds
Published: 2024-08-06T00:00:00+00:00

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The crowd was indeed small and amusing. Five people, all of them musician friends of Jay. Jay fixed everyone cocktails, and they lounged around the pool. Vera did not swim, dipping her feet in the water instead. It was odd, being there with other people. She spent all her time with actors from the lot or with her family. Talking with folks her age about something other than script pages and studio gossip felt alien. It took her mind off Clifford Collins and his unpleasant words, at least for a few hours.

Although she’d told Jay that she could spare only an hour or two of her time, she found herself lingering as the others said their goodbyes until she was the only one left. Jay asked if she wanted to go inside to listen to records and cool down for a bit.

She followed him back to the living room, but paused to admire his piano. “She’s a beauty,” Vera said, leaning appreciatively over the keys.

“If I don’t make it on the West Coast I’m going to miss this baby,” he said.

“Why do you say that?”

“My family gave me a year to make it over here and I don’t think that’s nearly enough time. I was cocky, thinking I could strike it big.”

“Doesn’t everybody who comes to Los Angeles think they can make it big?” she said, her finger falling against a key, pressing it gently. “Why the West Coast, anyway?”

“West Coast jazz is the hippest,” Jay said, hands in his pockets. “It’s light like a feather. Art Pepper, Shelly Manne, Wardell Gray, and Sonny Criss, they’re West Coast. I love the music back east, don’t get me wrong, but I was curious to see what was happening here. You ever hear about a place and want to see it with your own eyes? Or in my case, hear it?”

“I wanted to see California.”

“There you go. Besides, it’s the farthest from my mother I could get.”

Vera sat down at the piano bench. Rather than a swimsuit she was wearing shorts and a yellow blouse. Jay also wore shorts and a Hawaiian shirt with a pattern of bright blue and green leaves. She tried another key, repeating the note three times, before her fingers began to move, knitting together a melody.

“Hey, you weren’t lying when you said you could play,” Jay said, leaning against the piano and looking down at her hands.

“I told you I was the accompanist for my sister.”

“Sure, but I thought you played ‘Greensleeves.’ This is much nicer. What’s it called?”

She had toyed with several titles, tinkering with the idea of “Love,” but she didn’t want to say it in front of him and shook her head with a smile.

“I haven’t named it.”

“It’s yours?”

“It’s not a difficult tune,” she said, almost apologetically. He laughed.

“It’s clever.” Jay was tapping his foot against the floor and humming. After a minute he sat next to her on the bench.

His hands flew upon the higher notes, echoing and complementing her, matching her pace to perfection.

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