Music in the Key of Love

Chapter 14: Graham's Story (Pt 1)

"Whew!" Graham nearly shouted when they were out on the street. "So glad that's over." He reached over and grasped Cressida's hand.

"That last piece? The Pathetique? It's just gorgeous, isn't it?" Cressida asked as they walked south down Fifth Avenue.

"But was it ten thousand dollars worth of gorgeous? That's the real question," Graham responded.

"What does your prof raise money for? I mean, she obviously has plenty of her own."

Graham shrugged. "She's a pretty high profile philanthropist in this town. She's on a lot of hospital boards, kids' cancer, AIDS, stuff like that. And she likes to sponsor poor, struggling musicians like yours truly, makes her feel like a benevolent patron of the arts or something." His tone was mocking. "She and her daughter both like their charity projects."

His words reminded Cressida of all the things Katherine had told her.

Should she tell Graham that she knew? Or wait for him to open up about it and act surprised? She was full of questions. What were the circumstances of his father killing his mother? What had caused his brother's breakdown? Where had all this happened? And how had he managed to go through all of it all alone?

But she held her tongue. He was in a good mood, and it was a beautiful night to be out walking with him, and Cressida didn't want to ruin it.

"Cress?"

"Hm?"

"I want to thank you again, for everything, for agreeing to come with me, and then for agreeing to turn the pages for me, even though I know you really didn't want to."

"You're welcome. It all turned out to be kind of fun." She giggled.

"Oh my god, Cress, are you drunk?"

She slapped at his arm. "No, silly, I only had three shots."

Graham stood still in the middle of the street to stare at her, forcing people to go around them. "Do you even weigh a hundred pounds? That's a lot of booze for someone your size."

"Well, I'm fine. Ooh, look!" They were passing in front of Tiffanys, and there was a beautiful diamond ring, sitting on black velvet in all its simple glory.

"It's a ring."

Cressida looked at Graham reproachfully. "It's not just 'a ring,' it's the ring, a Tiffanys solitaire. It's—it's—sublime."

"If you're into that sort of thing, I guess," he said doubtfully. "I can't really wear rings, it messes with my playing."

"Not for you, you dork, no man would wear a solitaire, anyway." Cressida gave a theatrical sigh as they continued to walk.

They passed all of the designer stores on Fifth Avenue, pointing out the funnier mannequins to each other. "Who would wear that?" Graham asked at one point, staring at a unisex mannequin wearing an outlandish outfit in purple and green.

"Oh, I don't know, you might look quite fetching in it," Cressida replied, laughing.

"What? Is that for a man? I thought it was for a woman!"

"Who can tell?" Cressida turned, sniffing. "Ooh, hotdogs, smell how yummy! We never did get any food at the party, did we?"

So they got hotdogs from the vendor on the corner, and ate them as they walked.

It was a perfect night, a little chilly, but not if you kept walking, and the streets were bustling with people. Cressida loved New York at this time of year, with the holidays just around the corner.