The Queen's Jewels

Chapter 15: Albany

Neal had been engaged in group activities ever since he arrived in Albany. His cousin Henry had been sending him looks for hours about the need to talk but realized they needed privacy. He undoubtedly noticed Neal's avoidance of work-related topics. He'd insist on details, and Neal didn't want him to blow up in front of Peter and his parents.

After dinner, their opportunity finally arrived. The women had converted the dining room into a bridal command center as they discussed venue and activity options. Luke, Peter, and Joe took possession of the family room to watch football. Henry had brought back several CDs of Indian music. Listening to music made a good excuse and would also shield their conversation from being overheard.

"Will I hear you perform on any of the discs?" Neal asked.

Henry grinned. "Maybe. My teacher insisted that he record my fumbling efforts."

When Betty heard what they had in mind, she suggested they listen in the basement where the sounds of the football game wouldn't interfere. She and Peter accompanied them downstairs. The Burke basement was a combination rec room and laundry with a ping pong table and miscellaneous sports gear in one section and a well-worn sofa and chairs forming a conversation group at the far end.

After a quick scan of the large space, Neal promptly headed for a painting hung over a bookcase containing old paperbacks on a side wall.

Peter hastily blocked his way. "You don't want to look at that. The stereo's over by the sofa."

Neal stepped around him. "Oh yes, I do."After a close inspection, he retreated a few paces to admire the overall effect while Peter heaved a long-suffering sigh. He knew Neal wouldn't be able to resist commenting on it, and Neal didn't intend to disappoint him.

"An extraordinary work," Neal said, "but I'm confused. I thought Van Gogh's Starry Night over the Rhone was in the collection of the Musée d'Orsay. Little did I dream it was here in Albany. Peter, you should have told me."

"It is lovely, isn't it," Betty said with a laugh. "Peter found this painting in a catalog when he was ten and spent weeks on it. I thought he did an excellent job."

Henry studied the paint-by-numbers work. "I'm no art expert, but this shows a rare gift to stay within the lines."

Shaking his head at both of them, Peter said, "We're out of here. You can mock my artistic efforts after we've left." He and Betty retreated upstairs.

Henry inserted a CD into the small stereo system and the strains of sitar music began to waft through the basement. Toeing off his shoes, he sat cross-legged on the sofa.

Neal sat opposite the sofa in an oversized chair, also pulling up his legs. "It seems like we should be on the floor, but it's a little cold for that. The music's making me feel warmer already. This isn't you on the CD, is it?"

"Hardly! That's Anoushka Shankar, Ravi Shankar's daughter. I thought you should hear the good stuff first." Henry began slapping the sofa cushions as if they were drums as he moved in rhythm to the music.

With a laugh, Neal joined in. He'd been assembling his list of questions for Henry and finally had his opportunity, but he still hadn't decided how much he should reveal about his own experiences.

Henry started it off. Not stopping his soft sofa-drum cadence, he asked, "So, you and Sara?"

Neal stared at him. After three months, this was what he wanted to talk about? "What about me and Sara?"

"You two getting along okay?"

Neal rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Dude, there is no me and Sara. If you'd kept in touch, you'd know that."