Phoebe's Performance

Double Date

Chapter 26

Another month goes past. We do not mention my scars or the gnawing fear I have about potentially finding a new boyfriend – and what he might think. Yet I continue to Bio Oil Otto's scars, and then mine, in private.

Progress is also made in other departments. I continue my piano and Otto continues to monitor my progress by sitting on the piano stool right next to me. Most of the time we play pieces simultaneously. Very occasionally my stomach tightens when something triggers the accident but I still have a few tricks up my sleeve and I focus on Otto, and very often, how incredibly good looking he is.

Only yesterday I noticed a little scar just above his eyebrow. Yesterday as I played the piano I thought of nothing other than the scar. I almost asked him whether we should Bio Oil that scar but stopped myself in time – lucky.

Where Otto is monitoring me, Maestro is monitoring Otto. And Maestro loved my idea of a three handed duet.

"It will be good for the spirit," were Maestro's exact words. So after Otto and I play the repertoire of concert pieces he keeps building for me, we then turn to the duet for three hands.

The funny thing is that we play the duet in complete harmony together. I'm not sure whether it's because we've been playing in synch with each other, ever since Otto has been sitting with me at the piano. But whatever it is, we can almost predict each other and our timing is impeccable.

We're actually very good on the piano together.

After I complete piano practise and end up in the office, I hear Otto completing his own piano practise as prescribed by Maestro. Since the break his right hand still has difficulty reaching keys, the span of his hand is still unfamiliar to him. He actually has to look at the keyboard to play the right keys. Apparently this is because of the injury to the tendon. So quite often his hand slips off the keys. However, Otto's on the piano so regularly, putting in hours, until his hand swells up in pain, that I'm sure he will find his way and the slippage will eventually stop.

Eve also visits the house with regularity – much to my displeasure – because Otto seems to absolutely think the world of her. I try not to be jealous because Eve's a wonderful person, but sometimes when I'm lying in the spare room late at night, I can't help wondering whether a man will find me attractive, or was Ben it for me?

Anyway, Otto pushes himself with the physio, repeating the exercises from Eve more times than she's told him. If she tells him to practise something ten times, he practises it at least fifty times.

He's diligent. He's determined. And I realise the more time I spend with him, that I can't stop thinking about him. I obviously like him. A lot.

It's Wednesday night and Otto finishes up from his piano practise and finds me in the office. "I've been meaning to ask you if you're free tonight?" he asks leaning against the office door.

My gaze flicks from the computer keyboard. I shrug my shoulders. "What for?"

"Did you want to have dinner or a beer or something tonight? You know, to chat and stuff?"

We both turn our heads simultaneously, glancing at my mobile phone as it vibrates on the desk. I don't want to pick it up.

He walks to the mobile phone and turns it over and looks at the display screen. "Do you want to take this?" His eyebrows raise a little and I lean over to glance at the caller display reading: Ben.

My chest becomes tight. "No." I shake my head.

"Are you sure?"

I shake my head again. "This is different. This is Ben." My voice is almost a croak.