The Gallery by Barbara Steiner

The Gallery by Barbara Steiner

Author:Barbara Steiner
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781497611290
Publisher: Open Road Media


nine

HER INSTINCTS WERE right. Johnny was upset. His mother was glad to let LaDonna in. “I hope you can talk him into practicing. He’s not very good company right now.” Mrs. Blair smiled and pointed towards the next room. LaDonna thought she was probably used to Johnny’s moods, but she seemed concerned about him as well.

Johnny spoke as soon as he saw LaDonna, as if he was really saying, go away, don’t bug me about this. “I can’t go back up there, LaDonna. I keep thinking about that room, about Katherine.” Johnny sat staring out the family room picture window at the rain that had started gently falling, the rain that was predicted to turn to snow by night. A flock of small birds, knowing the weather was changing, fed frantically at the bird feeder. Flames danced as fire crackled in the fireplace.

“You have to, Johnny. You need that piano. This one just isn’t the same.” La Donna indicated the old-fashioned upright that Johnny had started playing on when he was five. She fingered a few keys. The instrument had a lovely tone, but nothing like the baby grand in the practice room.

She sat on the bench for a few minutes, keeping Johnny company in his misery. Maybe she had the solution.

“I’ll go with you. I’ll stay in the room and listen to you practice.”

“You don’t want to do that. You’ll get bored. I’d worry about you being there, getting bored.” Johnny splayed the fingers of both hands, long slender fingers, and looked at them as if they held the answer to his dilemma.

LaDonna knew that after about five minutes Johnny wouldn’t worry about her. He wouldn’t know she was there. “I never get bored with your music, Johnny. But if I do, I’ll tell you. We can go get that pizza I promised.”

Johnny thought about that for a time. Finally he stood up. “Okay. I’m going nuts sitting around here.”

Now Mrs. Blair worried about them getting wet. She insisted they take two umbrellas and that LaDonna borrow her raincoat.

Outside, lowering her umbrella and sharing Johnny’s, LaDonna laughed. “I don’t know if I could take that much mothering. I’m so used to being independent.”

“She means well.” Johnny put his arm around LaDonna’s waist to keep them together under the ribbed taffeta. LaDonna felt warm inside and out and as cozy as she had in the family room.

“She wants her baby to stay well for his recitals,” she teased. “Are you playing in May?” Her plan was to distract him from everything except his music.

“Yes, and I’m nowhere near ready.”

“You will be. You always are.” They splashed in puddles until they climbed Seventeenth Street hill where water ran towards them in small rivers. “I’m painting again, Johnny. Good stuff. But Eric Hunter thinks it’s not my work.”

“That phony. He’s probably envious. You realize we haven’t seen any of his paintings. Or one sculpture. Whatever he does. You know how you feel about what you’re doing. Ignore anything he says.”

“I will. But I didn’t like his saying this isn’t my work or that I’ve copied something.



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