Chapter 11
Harley was running scales at the window when Jennalee reached the Oak Room. She wasn’t sure if it was sight of him against the glass, lit like some movie star, or the scales themselves that stopped her. She stood just inside the door for a time, letting the notes play over her. Closing her eyes, she recalled her own practice sessions under Mr. Mendel’s watchful eye and found solace in the image until it struck her that someone else occupied his attentions now. She shook off the image and crossed to Harley.
He didn’t stop playing when he saw her; he simply smiled and kept his fingers flying. Jennalee settled at the piano, enjoying the violin’s rhythmic stretch. There was something concrete in exercises, a kind of grounding that made her feel safe, a predictability that sometime
