Nobody in Particular(44)
Still. It doesn’t stop me from wanting and wishing and hoping, right down to my honeycombed soul, that she will close the space for me.
* * *
Days later, after yet another dinner with Danni and Molly sitting tables and tables away from the rest of us, I discover over a slice of apple crumble and cream where my breaking point lies.
Danni said she wants to be there for Molly, and I don’t intend to impede their quality time together. But that doesn’t mean I can’t seek out Danni while she’s by herself, does it? If I’m not stealing her from Molly, then why does it matter? It shouldn’t.
As wary as I am of putting Danni in an uncomfortable position, I think clarity, at this point, is a necessity. And if Danni does reject an offer to spend time with me, then I’ll know that when she said Molly wanted space from me, she truly meant she wanted space from me, and I can act accordingly.
The only problem is concocting an excuse to spend time together that doesn’t seem like an excuse. After dinner, I walk back to Dewitt within the heavy flow of students, several feet behind Molly and Danni. They say goodbye to each other as Danni stays on her floor, and Molly continues up. For now, at least, they’re spending the evening apart. So it’s fair game, no?
I sit on the edge of my bed and try to construct the perfect opening line, rehearsing potential contenders out loud and striking them down one by one. Finally, I open my messages with Danni to remind myself where we left off, and the answer pops into my mind. Once, I promised to give her an ice-skating lesson. Well, what better time than tonight?
With a spring in my step, I head downstairs and try her room, but she doesn’t respond to my knock. I imagine this means she’s either visited Molly after all, or she’s practicing piano. With any luck, it’s the latter. I head outside the building—via a quick visit to Theodore’s—and into the crisp night air, and have my question answered by the distant sound of lilting music.
The melody is slow, smooth, and haunting. The closer I draw, the more I notice how the piano somehow seems to hang in the air even as each note falls away. It’s as though the vibrations are reverberating in my blood, altering the beating of my heart. I wonder idly if it’s matching time with Danni’s. I ask Theodore to wait outside the building for me, and he agrees. Theodore’s always been my favorite of the two guards for this exact reason. He’s comfortable giving me more space than Sidney. He’s known me for longer, which might have something to do with it. Sidney was only hired a few months ago to replace Elizabeth, who was let go after what happened on her watch in Amsterdam.
The stairwell to the ballroom is enveloped by music. There’s a heartbreaking quality to the song. It seems to be telling a wordless story of grief and loss. I enjoy music, but I wouldn’t call myself an expert in the art. Even I can tell, however, that the credit here goes to the player, not the notes themselves. In less capable hands—mine, for example—I doubt this song would have the same power to move.
I’m not sure if it’s the sight of my feet climbing these dimly lit stairs, or the fearful undertone of the music, or the combination of the two, but suddenly I’m reminded of the time I climbed a similar set of stairs, months ago. I remember Molly walking ahead of me, and the tightening of her voice as she called his name. I remember the thrumming party music, and the sour smell of spilled beer, and the darkness of the hallway above us. I remember Molly opening that door. I remember—
I stop remembering and sit on the staircase landing, clasping my hands together tightly, until the song ends. What follows is a more disjointed series of notes and chords, interrupted with periods of silence, that tell me Danni has moved into a new piece she’s yet to learn. Or is perhaps even composing.
With a deep, steadying breath, I draw myself back to my feet, fix my face into a smile, and enter the ballroom, where the music instantly triples in volume. She hears me enter and swings around in her seat. The moment she sees me, she lights up. She lights up at the unexpected sight of me. I’m so relieved I glow right back at her.
“Rose, hey!” she says. “What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing,” I say, as casual as someone who hasn’t been sitting in uncertainty for weeks. “I have a boatload of homework, and myriad responsibilities, and I’m looking for an excuse to procrastinate on all of it.”
Danni gives me an amused look. “Is that right?”
“Yes, quite right, and then I remembered I owe you a skating lesson.”
“So, you thought you’d come and interrupt my piano practice to see if now was a good time for me?”
“Yes, exactly. Can’t hurt to ask, I thought.”
“Even though I was obviously in the middle of something?” She says it teasingly, wearing a broad smile. Well, in my defense, she always seems to be in the middle of something, and at least she hasn’t promised the piano to exclude me from their time together.
I fold my arms. “Are you telling me you’re reneging on our bargain? You did promise to make me a brilliant pianist if I taught you to skate, if I recall correctly.”
“Ahh,” she says with a wry grin. “So when you say you want to teach me, what you mean is you want me in your debt.”
“I ask for very little from you, you know.”
I’m still smiling, but at this, her expression loses its mirth. She studies me for a beat too long. Just long enough to confirm she caught the double meaning in my words. Of course she did. She never seems to miss the unspoken layers behind my words. “I know,” she says. There’s guilt there. I’m certain of it. “But I actually promised Caroline I’d practice every night this weekend.”