My eyes wandered to the violin case at his feet. Wondering about it. Wondering about him. Even as I said, “Well, you should probably go on and see about that A/C.”
“Yeah, I probably should,” he agreed. But he didn’t move. Instead, he followed my gaze to his violin.
Leaving me to grow more and more curious in the second silence, until I just had to ask, “So you play violin?”
“Sometimes. Come fall, I’ll be back performing the classical stuff with the Alabama Youth Symphony. But it’s been a long day.” A thin smile crosses his face. “Got in an argument with my dad in Tennessee, and decided to take the bus home. So tonight, it’s probably going to be a fiddle.”
That was a joke I sort of got. Violins and fiddles were basically the same instrument. You could call either the other, as long as y
