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A Soldier's Song

Page 10

by Irene Onorato


  Libby leaned her head against Aria’s, and shot a wiggly finger wave at the screen. “Hello, Dex, I’m Libby.”

  Dex smiled. “Hello, Libby.”

  Libby’s schoolgirl giggle erupted in Aria’s ear. “Whoa, that’s a fine car parked behind you. Is it yours?”

  Yellow with two thick black stripes running from bumper to bumper over the roof, the sports car definitely had a curb appeal. But if Libby hadn’t pointed it out, Aria would have never noticed. All she cared about was the man in the picture.

  “Yup. If there’s one extravagance in my life, it’s my car.”

  “It’s gorgeous. What kind of car is it?”

  “It’s a Camaro SS coupe with a 6.2-liter V8, 455 horsepower engine and standard transmission.”

  “Bet it’s fun to drive.”

  Dex nodded. “It is. Come on down, bring Aria with you, and I’ll let you take it out for a ride.” He jingled his keys in front of the camera.

  “Don’t tempt me. Bye, Dex. Nice meeting you.” Libby backed away and motioned to Aria that she was going upstairs.

  “Libby’s heading back to the apartment. Think I’ll stay outside and enjoy the nip in the air. Reminds me of walking the path with you at Pop’s place.” She gave Libby a little wave, mouthed, “See you later,” and went back to Dex’s video call.

  “I’ll turn the camera around so you can see where I’m going.” Dex’s face disappeared from the screen and a pale blue house with an uncovered porch came into view. “That’s the house, and over here”—he moved the camera—“is the double driveway. Under the carport is Zook’s pickup and Stanley’s jalopy. That’s why I parked at the curb. Didn’t want to block either of them in. But my car gets a spot under the carport at night, no matter what.”

  Dex bounded up a couple of steps to the front door, flipped the camera again, and smiled. “I can see the guys through the window sitting on the couch watching TV. I’ll save the grand tour for another time and just bring you straight to my bedroom.”

  Freudian slip or not, the phrase brought instant heat to her cheeks.

  Dex chuckled. “Sorry, that didn’t come out quite right, but you sure are cute when you blush.” He entered the house, walked quickly past the back of a couch that sat in the middle of the living room facing a TV, said hello to the guys in passing, and continued to his room.

  “Okay, here we are, and here’s the quick tour.” Dex flipped the camera and scanned the room. “Bureau, easy chair, bathroom door, bed with a couple of nightstands, table I use for a desk, and over here”—he crossed the room to the window and lifted the blinds—“is where I spend my half of our moonlight dates.”

  “I’m glad you showed me. From now on I can envision exactly where you are when we’re talking. Maybe one of these nights we can do FaceTime again so we can see each other during our virtual time together.” And she could pretend she was standing on the other side of the window, leaning on the woodwork, looking at him in person.

  The view switched back to Dex’s smiling face. “So what did you think of my free tour?”

  “Everything looks clean and tidy. You even make your bed. I’m impressed.”

  “Yeah, well, I knew I you were coming, so…” He shrugged then laughed. “Actually I’m a fairly neat person. Not obsessive-compulsive, but I don’t let the place get too trashed out before I clean up.”

  “I’m pretty much the same. I—” Beep, beep. Beep, beep. An incoming number popped up in the upper part of the screen. “What in the world?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve got an incoming call. It’s the same number that called several times yesterday. I sent the calls to voicemail, but nobody left a message.” How annoying. The least someone could do if they really wanted to contact her was leave a voicemail.

  “It they’re that persistent, maybe it’s important. Go ahead and answer if you’d like. I’ll hold. If we get disconnected, you can call me back.”

  “Okay, switching over.” Aria thumbed the number. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Aria. This is Professor Jacobs. How are you?”

  “Professor Jacobs?” Yesterday’s Fedora-topped man flashed through her mind.

  “Yes, you do remember me, don’t you? You were one of my prized music students.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. I’m just surprised to hear from you. In fact, I—you weren’t in lower Manhattan yesterday evening by any chance, were you?”

  “Hardly. I’ve been in New Jersey for the past few days visiting my elderly parents. Why do you ask?”

  “I thought I’d caught a glimpse of you on the street as I was walking to my friend’s apartment. What a bizarre case of overwhelming coincidences, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Indeed. I suppose everyone’s got a look-alike somewhere on Earth. A stunt double, perhaps.” The professor gave a little laugh.

  “You might be right. So, what can I do for you, Professor?” Never having known him on a personal level, she could see no reason for him to call for a friendly chitchat. There had to be more.

  “I’ve always thought of you as one of my brightest and most talented students. You have a special, innate ability to feel things in the musical score and interpret them in your playing. A rare talent, I must say.”

  “Thank you.” His compliments stroked her ego, but didn’t answer the question of why he’d called.

  “And I’m sure you’re wondering the reason for my call and why I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday. Am I right?”

  “You seemed to have read my mind. Yes, I’ll admit, I am curious.”

  “Then I’ll get right to the point. I don’t often tell anyone this, but I’m a close personal friend of Anton Bianchi, and—”

  “The Anton Bianchi? The world-famous Italian composer and conductor?” Aria’s pulse raced, and her curiosity level shot through the roof.

  “I take it you’re a fan?”

  “Absolutely. The man is brilliant. A musical genius if you ask me.” Classical, modern, and everything in between, Bianchi’s music hit the mark of excellence every single time. “I love his music.”

  “Then you’re going to be very excited about what I’ve called to tell you.”

  Chapter 12

  “Thank you so much, Professor Jacobs. Goodbye.” Aria stomped her feet in a happy dance, let out a whoop, and punched the air. The news couldn’t be more exciting, and despite it being super-secret according to the professor, she couldn’t wait to share with Dex.

  Aria poised a thumb to switch back to the first call, but Dex was gone. She redialed. “Dex, you were right. The call was important. I still can’t believe it. I’m so giddy I don’t know what to do with myself.” Giggles and tears melded into an unlikely mix she couldn’t hold back.

  “Calm down and tell me what happened. I’m assuming this is good news?”

  “Oh my gosh, is it ever. I don’t know where to start. It’s all so wonderful.”

  “Take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and tell me about it. Who called, and what did they say that came as such good news?”

  Sucking in a lungful of cold air stung her insides. She held it for a few seconds and let it out through puckered lips. “Ah. Okay, that’s better. I think I was starting to hyperventilate.”

  “Sounded like it. So, now that you’ve gathered your wits…”

  “Right. My wits. Whew! I’m still reeling.” She took another long breath to clear her head. “The call came from Professor Jacobs, a former music teacher of mine from college. Amazing instructor. I learned more in the few short semesters I studied under him than all my prior years of music lessons combined.”

  The professor had an uncanny way of giving a musical score a life of its own. He lived, breathed, and spoke music. Everyone who was fortunate to have had him for an instructor knew of his passion.

  “What did he call abo
ut?”

  “You’ve heard of Anton Bianchi, haven’t you?”

  “Who hasn’t? Seems he’s in the news every other week. What about him?”

  “Professor Jacobs is a personal friend of his. They studied together in France and Italy. Bianchi went on to live a life of fame and fortune, while the professor came back and taught music on the college level in New York.” The professor had spoken of old times—of fun and silly antics between him and his friend Bianchi that made Aria laugh. It seemed an unlikely friendship, but endearing and enduring nonetheless.

  “Okay, the professor has a rich and famous friend. I still don’t get why you’re so excited about the call.”

  “I’m supposed to keep this a secret, but Bianchi is forming a new international orchestra that will be based in New York City. He’s got all the musicians he needs except for a few. He’ll be auditioning for pianists in a couple of months, which is why the professor called.”

  “So he gave you a heads-up about the audition? Is that it?”

  If that were all Jacobs had done, it would have been enough. But going above and beyond like he had was more than she could have ever expected or dared hoped.

  “That’s part of it, but the professor also offered to help get me ready for the audition. Free of charge, no less. How sweet is that?” She could scarcely believe it.

  “Congratulations, maestro. That rocks! I’ve no doubt you’ll give Bianchi a jaw-dropping performance and ace the audition.”

  Dex’s enthusiastic response made her even happier. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m nervous already just thinking about it.”

  “That’s understandable. You’ve dreamed about this for a long time, and now you’ve got a shot at making it a reality. A certain level of anxiety is to be expected.”

  “I hope Libby isn’t disappointed when I tell her. I’m sure she would be interested in auditioning, but Bianchi has all the strings he needs.”

  “I’m sure she’ll understand and still be happy for you. Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why would Bianchi keep his plans for an orchestra a secret, and how were musicians supposed to find out about auditions if they weren’t advertised?”

  Good question. She hadn’t thought about that. “I’m not sure. Maybe auditions were by invitation only? That would make sense. And it could be that Bianchi wanted to put everything together, have a series of rehearsals, and then present the orchestra to the world with a big, gala event.” What other reason could there be for the secrecy?

  “That’s plausible, I suppose. But what about—never mind. Maybe I shouldn’t even ask.”

  “Ask what?”

  “You said Professor Jacobs wanted to help you prepare for the audition. I’m assuming that means meeting with you for private lessons, or something like that. What I don’t get is, what’s in it for him? Surely he didn’t offer his services just to be nice.”

  Dex sounded like her father, who was always wary of people’s motives. But the same sentiment had crossed her mind during her conversation with the professor. It seemed too big a sacrifice of time for a busy college professor. “I told him I’d be glad to pay for his help, but he said seeing one of his students earn a spot in such a prestigious orchestra would be payment enough. Guess he just wants bragging rights.”

  “When’s the audition, and how soon will you start practicing with Jacobs?”

  “It’s tentatively scheduled for mid-March, and because of the holidays, we decided to put off our first practice until after the first week of January.”

  “Good idea. Enjoy the season before putting your nose to the grindstone.”

  “And maybe get to spend some time with a man in uniform?” Fingers crossed, hearing him say yes would be icing on today’s already-good news. “Mom says Dad hasn’t given her a concrete yes or no about coming home for Christmas either. Is something going on that we don’t know about? Every time Dad gets wishy-washy about travel plans—”

  “Aria, you know we can’t discuss that.”

  Gentle but firm, she understood that the soldier side of Jason Dexter wouldn’t allow for the possibility of opening a chink in the unit’s armor by divulging information about future operations. Having a warrior father who lived under the same shroud of secrecy should have taught her better than to ask.

  “Yeah, I know you can’t.” Knowing didn’t make the uncertainty any easier to deal with.

  “I’d better let you go. I’m going to Edward and Audra’s for lunch and a game of chess. I’ve been trying for a couple of years to win a game from the lieutenant. Maybe today’s my lucky day. Wish me luck?”

  “I do. Go forth and capture his king, Sir Dexter.”

  “I’ll do my best. Have fun today with Libby. Bye.”

  * * * *

  Dex’s phone rang before he could slip it into his back pocket. Barton’s Property Management. He tapped the screen to accept the call. “Hello.”

  “Hello, Mr. Dexter, this is Millicent at Barton’s.”

  Dex had dealt with Millicent from the beginning when she’d first showed him the rental house. Always smiling and easy to laugh, her tone matched her friendly face. “Hello, Millie. So tell me, who’d you tick off to have to work on a Saturday?”

  “Nobody.” She laughed. “I’ve got a great boss. Had to stay home Tuesday to take care of my sick kindergartener. I was out of paid time off, so Mrs. Barton let me work today to make it up. I love working here.”

  “That’s good to hear. Your kid’s okay now, I hope?”

  “Yes, she is. Thank you for asking. The reason I’m calling is you’d asked if you could set up a meeting with the property owner to discuss the possibility of terminating the lease. If that’s something you still want to do, the owner is back in the States and is eager to talk to you about it.” The tapping in the background sounded like she was pecking away at a keyboard. “His name is Mr. Byron. Would you like to schedule a meeting?”

  The last thing Dex expected was the landlord to be eager. Willing, maybe. Eager? Not so much.

  What could Dex say during the meeting? No one had stepped up to the plate to take his place. Not Peanut, nor Stanley or Zook. On the other hand, what was there to lose? The most Mr. Byron could say was no. “Yes, I’d like to arrange a meeting with him, please.”

  “He’s flexible. Said anytime next week would work. He knows you’re a sergeant with obligations on base, so he’s willing to work around your schedule. Where and when would you like to meet?”

  “How about Monday night, seven o’clock at Gabriella’s Coffee Shop? Everyone in town knows where it is.” Mr. Byron would have no trouble finding the place, and there was always ample parking.

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine with that. Have a spectacular day, Sergeant. I hope everything works out for you.”

  “Thanks. Me too. Oh, by the way, do you think you could help me find an apartment if Mr. Byron is agreeable to let me out of the lease?” He’d hate to find himself released from the lease with nowhere to go.

  “No problem. We’ve several listings. I’d be glad to help.”

  “Thanks, Millie. Bye.”

  Dex left his room and walked toward the front door. In the living room, he stopped behind the couch for a few minutes and watched the football game the guys were glued to. He waited for a commercial break. “I’m meeting with the landlord on Monday. One last chance. Do either of you want to take over the lease?”

  “I don’t.” Stanley muted the TV and looked up at him. “Not my problem. I’m good with the arrangement we have.”

  Dex tapped Zook’s shoulder. “What about you?”

  “Nope. Not my problem either.” Zook looked over at Stanley. “I’m gonna make a sandwich. Want one?”

  Dex shook his head. He might as well head to Edward’s house. It wasn’t worth trying to talk to them.
r />   * * * *

  “That was a great meal, Audra. I think your crawfish étouffée is even better than what I had in New Orleans a couple of years ago.” And from what Dex remembered, it had been fantastic.

  “Thanks.” Audra beamed as she gave the table a quick cleanup with a damp dishcloth. “My father taught me how to make several Cajun dishes. Edward likes to tease and say the main reason he married me was because I’m a chef’s daughter.”

  “An army marches on its stomach, babe.” Edward rose and kissed Audra’s cheek. “You should consider it your patriotic duty to feed me.” He shot a wink in Dex’s direction.

  Audra laughed and slapped Edward’s arm with the dishcloth. “Now that my patriotic obligation is complete and I’ve fed the troops, I think I’ll go do my womanly duty and wash the dishes.”

  Edward grabbed her hand as she started to turn. “Need help?”

  “No, thanks.” An affectionate nuance passed between her and Edward before their hands slid apart and Audra left the small dining area and went to the kitchen.

  A wooden chessboard sat on a nearby shelf with opposing armies lined up and ready for battle. Edward picked it up, moved carefully, and set it on the table between Dex and him. “You get white this time. Remember, Dex, try to gain control of the center of the board, and watch out for skewers, pins, and forks. They seem to be your biggest weaknesses.”

  “Got it. Thanks for the tips.” Dex pushed his king’s pawn forward and started the game. Minutes later, black and white pieces faced off in the middle of the board.

  In the kitchen, Audra sang softly, her melody mixing with intermittent sounds of clinking dishes and running water. The aroma of brewing coffee added to the peaceful, homey ambiance permeating the air.

  “She sounds happy, LT. It’s kind of nice listening in, knowing she probably doesn’t even realize we can hear her.”

  Edward glanced toward the sound of his wife’s voice with a small smile. “Audra is almost always happy. I try to do everything I can to keep her that way. Keeps me from being thrown out of the big bed. Just kidding.” He chuckled.

 

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