Gun Games - Faye Kellerman [61]
“No, really. I want to hear you play.” She put her hand on his knee. “Please?”
He leaned over and kissed her. “If you keep touching me, I won’t be able to do anything.”
“Please play for me, Gabriel?”
“Okay.” He took in a breath and let it out. “What do you want to hear?”
“I dunno.” She thought. “How about . . . like . . . ‘Flight of the Bumblebee’?”
Gabe groaned. Without looking at the keyboard, he began to run through the piece. “God, I think I learned that when I was five or something.” He stuck out his tongue.
Yasmine stopped him. “So if you don’t want that, play something else. You like Chopin, play Chopin.”
“Do you want flash or class?”
“How about flash?”
He thought a moment, then from the bang of a C-minor chord, his left hand flew down the keyboard at lightning speed in twists and runs until it was joined by his right hand, the music playing out a story in forte dynamics. He talked while he played. “ ‘Revolutionary Étude’ in C minor. Written after Russia invaded Warsaw. Chopin was Polish, so this is his like paean to his homeland although he was more French than Polish. It’s a good piece but it is a little bombastic.”
He stopped abruptly. “You know what an étude is, right?”
“ ’Course. It’s a study piece.”
“Yeah. Chopin wrote a bunch of them. That’s one of the most famous. I like his ‘Opus 10 number 5.’ ” With his right hand, he launched into a series of triplets in varying dynamics. “It’s all on the black keys except for like one white note. Not at all easy to play but fun once you got the fingering down.”
He stopped the music and smiled at Yasmine. She was wide-eyed.
“What?”
She just shook her head, speechless.
He shrugged. “How about . . . Let’s try ‘Grand Waltz Brilliant’ in E-flat major? I like it because it’s so musically vivid. I mean, every time I play it, I can picture this big ballroom with guys in foppish clothing and girls in antebellum ball gowns twirling around the room. It really takes you back to a different era.”
He began the introduction, which was a series of marchlike chords before launching into ¾ time. Again, he spoke as he played. “You can see the dancing in the music. Like you can picture the Viennese Waltz. You know, twirl . . . twirl . . . twirl . . . twirl. All the colors . . . the satin and lace and pomp. It’s just such a blend of visual and auditory . . . I dunno . . . it just is like . . . a snapshot in time.”
His fingers ran over the keyboard in effortless fashion.
“I just love the lightness of it . . . the grace . . . dancers floating through the air.”
He stopped playing and looked at her.
“Tell me when you’ve had enough of my narrative. Sometimes I go on a little bit.”
“You really make the music come alive.”
“You make me come alive.” He stopped playing, reached atop the piano and gave her a wrapped package. “Here you go.”
Yasmine stared at the gift, her eyes turning wet. “For me?”
Gabe made a point of looking around the garage. “No one else here. Guess it’s for you by process of elimination. Open it.”
With shaking hands, she undid the ribbon and opened the box. It was a blue-faced sterling-silver watch. She whispered a thank-you as tears streamed down her cheeks. Although she was already wearing a gold Movado, she tried to put it on. But her hands were too unsteady.
“It’s like a conceptual gift.” Gabe grinned. “Maybe if you wear two of them, you’ll be on time.” She laughed through her tears. “Why don’t you put the new one back in the box and it can be your school watch. I think your parents might notice if your gold one was gone.”
“My mother would, that’s for sure.” She stared at her present. “I really love it. It’s totally my taste.”
“I’m glad.”
She was still staring downward. “That was the nicest thing ever.” She regarded his face. “I think you’re the most marvelous human being in the entire world.”
“You do?”
She nodded.
“Thank you.” A pause. “Can I feel you up?”
She slapped his shoulder and he laughed.
“Please?”
“You want to feel up my small chest?”
“I love your small chest. I love everything about