The Heart of a Man by Deb Kastner

Author:Deb Kastner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Steeple Hill
Published: 2006-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Isobel was still staring at him, a peculiar look on her face, when Dustin started from his reverie and realized he’d been woolgathering.

“Why did you stop singing completely? After a while, didn’t you wonder?”

“Well I never…I mean, other people were so…and I…” She paused from her stammering and took a deep breath. “You can’t really know if you’re good or not,” she finished lamely. “After a while, it just seemed easier that way. Besides, my voice sounds different to my ears than it does everyone else’s.”

He decided to interrupt her soliloquy and spare her further agony.

“Isobel, sweetheart, let me put you out of your misery. You have a sweet, pleasant alto and you hit every note right on key.”

“No squeaking?”

“Nothing remotely reminiscent of any kind of animal,” he assured her, shaking his head and chuckling at his own joke.

“Oh,” she said, still sounding surprised and a little stunned. “Thank you.”

“And remember, I’m a musician, so I know what I’m talking about.”

“You are that,” she agreed readily. “Who was your teacher? Where in the world did you learn to play the piano like that?”

It was an obvious attempt to change the subject, but Dustin let it go.

He coughed and brushed his fingers across the ivories, trying unsuccessfully to hide a bittersweet smile. “I didn’t.”

“You didn’t what?”

“Have lessons,” he admitted painfully. “Although in my defense, I did practice several hours every day when I was a kid.”

“No one taught you,” she repeated, sounding stunned.

He could tell she didn’t believe him.

“My parents didn’t believe in the extracurricular—except maybe for competitive sports, and that was my brother’s department, not mine. Anything in the arts was definitely out of the question.”

“But your dad was a multimillionaire!” she exclaimed. “Surely he could afford something as simple as piano lessons.”

Dustin ground his teeth against the first reaction that stabbed through his chest and threatened to exit his mouth. He would not say aloud how much it hurt him, no matter how soulfully her eyes looked at him and begged for him to share.

It took him a good moment to regain his composure, and the fact that Isobel was scowling—presumably on his behalf at his mistreatment by his parents—made the task of pulling himself together even more arduous.

It would be easier if he didn’t know she cared. But for some reason, she did. It showed in her glistening brown eyes and in her hurt expression.

“My father was a strict businessman,” Dustin explained hoarsely. “He worked his way up from a poor family to a multimillionaire by sheer effort and will-power. Frankly, he didn’t see the point of studying fine arts, so we didn’t.”

“But there was a piano in your home,” she said, stating the obvious.

“Oh, yes,” he said, drowning out her last word. He had lived in a house, but despite his mother’s best efforts, he realized now it had never really been home to him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and cleared his throat again. This was more difficult than he would ever have imagined. “It was the most expensive grand piano they could find.

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