If You Only Knew(35)

A little boy is sitting at the upright piano. He stops when he sees me and folds his hands neatly in his lap.

“Evander,” Leo says, “this is my friend Jenny. Jenny, meet Evander James.”

“You’re wonderful, sweetheart,” I say.

“Thank you,” he answers, not looking at me.

“What was that piece?”

Evander looks at Leo. “Chopin’s Étude Number Three in E Major, Opus Ten, better known as Tristesse, which means sadness in French,” Leo says.

“It was beautiful,” I murmur, and my voice is husky. Leo’s mouth tugs a little.

“I can’t play the hard part,” the boy says.

“Not yet,” Leo says. “Give yourself a week.”

There’s a knock on the door, and Evander scrambles off the bench and stands next to the piano, his hand on it as if he can’t quite bring himself to leave it. “Thank you, Mr. Killian,” he says. His gaze is on the floor.

“You’re welcome, buddy. And call me Leo.” He answers the door, and a woman about my age comes into the room. “Mrs. James,” he says, “I’d love to teach Evander. He’s very talented.”

“Thank you. I’m afraid we really don’t have money for that. But I appreciate today.” She’s dressed in scrubs and wears Crocs. Seeing me standing there, she gives a little nod.

“There’s a grant that lets me offer lessons to promising students,” Leo says. “I’d like to use it for Evander. No cost to you.”

She hesitates. “His father works the night shift, and I’m on days. I don’t know if I can get him here.”

“Can he take the school bus here on Thursdays?”

“Well, yes, but I don’t know how he’d get home.”

“He can stay here until you can pick him up. Or I could put him in a cab. There’s plenty of money in the grant, and someone with Evander’s talent only comes along once in a while.”

I have to say, I’m a little surprised. While I’ve seen Leo here and there with his students, he’s always pretty casual. This hard sell seems like a different side of his teacher persona.

“Really?” she says.

Leo nods. “Juilliard can give my references. So can Elmsbrook School—they did a background check on me before I played there this past February. And I can give you the names of the parents of my other students.”

“Um...well, let me talk to my husband,” Mrs. James says.

“Please, Mom,” Evander whispers.

“We’ll see, sweetheart. Thank you, Mr. Killian.”

“Leo. You did great, kid.” He winks at Evander, who gives a sweetly shy smile back. “I’ll check in with you in a couple of days, how’s that?”

“That’s very nice of you. Thank you.” The mom looks at me and smiles.

“Your son is very gifted,” I say, like I know anything.

“He is,” she says, smiling down on the boy. “He’s been blessed.” Loki’s stumpy tail wags as they leave; the dog seems to hate only me.

When the door closes behind him, I sit on Leo’s couch. “So that’s what you call a prodigy, huh?” I ask.

“Yep.”

“And this grant of yours... Does it exist?”

“Nope.” He smiles. “Want some wine, irritating tenant?”

“I would love some, grossly under-qualified super. By the way, thanks for coming by today.”

“Coming by where?”

“To the grand opening of my store. I invited you, remember?”

“I’m not in the market for wedding cakes, Jenny.”

“Dresses.”

“Those, either. So how was it?”

“Well, let’s see. My mom told at least nine people how wretched she’s been since my father died twenty-two years ago, my ex-husband, his beautiful wife and perfect baby showed up, and my sister’s husband confirmed that he’s having amazing sex with someone else.”

“Shit. Now I wish I’d gone.” He sits down in the chair across from me. “I’m sorry about Rachel.”

“Me, too.” Not wanting to think about my sister and all the ugly thoughts her situation inspires, I ask, “How did you find a kid like Evander?”

“The music teacher at Elmsbrook gave me a call. Evander’s been playing piano since he was three, all by ear, and the teacher taught him to read music, but she’s kind of out of her depth. He plays better than she does.”

“Wow.” I take a sip of wine. “So you’re new to Cambry-on-Hudson, but you have all these students. How did that happen?”

“I gave a concert at the elementary school. When the straight mothers and gay fathers saw how good-looking I am, not to mention how incredibly talented, they stampeded to my door.”

“And still I haven’t heard you play. I thought that was you, when Evander was playing.”

“I’m a better teacher than performer.”

“So you say. And yet you also claim to be incredibly talented.”

“All Juilliard students are incredibly talented, my dear. But we’re not all Emmanuel Ax, either.”

“Who’s that?”