by Ginny Aiken
“Have you been to Miami before?” she asked.
“Yes, but not to sightsee. I’m staying at our family’s beach house, which is used by various relatives. My visit to Miami has been primarily as a beachcomber. Of course, I do know a little about the city, the main roads, et cetera.” He stopped at the end of the driveway. “Now, what sights would you like to show me?”
Eva mentioned several places including Vizcaya, hoping to get into the conversation about the quartet’s invitation to play there. However, as he pulled out onto the road, he broached the subject she’d rather leave behind.
“If I’m not being too personal, what is this between you and Jack? What does that fellow do? Is he a relative? A friend?”
Eva hardly knew how to respond. “He’s been a friend of the family for years. His parents are part of a professional touring choral group. Jack has a wonderful voice and has sung at the restaurant in the past. As a teenager, he stayed behind in school while his parents traveled much of the time. He and Grandpa hit it off from the first time Jack performed at Alono’s. After that, Jack came often to Grandpa’s shop. Jack has perfect pitch and was a great help with tone. In return, Grandpa taught Jack a lot about violin making.”
Georgio nodded, with a sympathetic look, as if he were familiar with that lifestyle.
“He began to hang out at the restaurant, even worked there in the summers, and also became attached to Grandpa. Grandpa was a mentor and like a father or grandfather to Jack.”
“I hope I’m not being too personal and of course you don’t have to answer. But, were you in love with Jack?”
She wished he hadn’t asked. “Well,” she hedged, “as much as a silly teenager, and later a college girl, could be.”
“You’re not now?”
“Oh, please. I was a young girl. I always looked up to him because he was a few years older and all my friends swooned over him, thinking he was so magnificent. You see, when he wasn’t at the shop or the restaurant, he was a knight with a Renaissance group. He wore armor and rode a white horse. I suppose, for a while, I saw him as a real knight and I as some sort of princess to be rescued from the humdrum of life. That was … fantasy. I’m … not a teenager anymore.”
She really didn’t want to reveal how she’d felt rejected by Jack. However, the words spilled forth despite her preference to change the subject. “After Grandpa gave him the Alono, he left to make his mark in the world. And stayed away for four years.”
Georgio seemed to be concentrating on the traffic for a long moment. Then he spoke in a low tone. “You don’t like Jack’s having that Alono violin.”
Eva’s heavy sigh preceded her honesty. “No.”
“Neither do I,” Georgio said. “You and I have that in common.”
Eva was eager to return to her tour-guide role and switched the conversation to Vizcaya. She explained what a wonderful opportunity it was for the quartet to play at the famous museum, that it was a long-awaited goal of the group and now seemed only her goal.
Georgio raised his hand from the wheel, lifting it into the air. “Then why not give Vizcaya an affirmative answer? You would be taking nothing from the quartet. Surely they would be as receptive to a trio, duet, or even solo.”
Now why hadn’t she thought of that? She might even mention it to Vizcaya.
She gave Georgio a brief description as the house and grounds came into view. “Miami’s famous Vizcaya Museum and Gardens is a Renaissance masterpiece,” she said, “on Biscayne Bay.”
He took on an appreciative look as he gestured toward the scene before him. “Ah, this resembles a lavish Italianate villa.”
“It’s one of South Florida’s leading attractions. It portrays the history of Miami and four hundred years of European history. The architecture represents the Italian Renaissance.”
“Impressive,” Georgio said as he turned the wheel and the sports car crept along through the immaculate grounds.
“Around two hundred thousand people visit the museum each year,” Eva said. “There have been such dignitaries as presidents, queens, kings. Also the Summit of the Americas was held here with the president and thirty-four leaders of the Western Hemisphere. Oh,” she added, facing him and smiling, “and perhaps will be visited by a renown violinist.”
Georgio’s dark gaze and smile held warmth. “I would love to have you lead me on a tour if my schedule permits. Today, however, I would like to get my bearings here in Miami and go by the concert hall and look at the stage, if you don’t mind.”
“You’re driving,” Eva said.
He nodded and his foot pressed the accelerator.
After driving past the concert hall, Georgio said he would like to take her to his beach house for lunch. After Eva agreed, he used a cell phone to make a call.
“Elena,” he said. “I’m bringing a guest for lunch. Great. See you soon.”
He didn’t explain who Elena was. Obviously, he had a wife or someone staying with him. When the house came into view, Eva was mildly surprised it was an older style, then recalled Georgio said it had been in the family for a long time.
“The spectacular part of the house,” Georgio said of the structure situated on an incline, “is the glass walls and windows that reveal an incredible view of the ocean.”
Georgio parked alongside a rental car and a late-model economy car.
They walked up onto the open porch. At the side was a glass-enclosed piazza.
The beach house looked as comfortable and cozy inside as the middle-aged man and woman that Georgio introduced as an invaluable married couple, Elena and Victor. “They take care of the house when it’s unoccupied and take care of us when we vacation here.”
Eva shook their hands and got a strong impression by the pleasant way they responded to Georgio’s remarks that they were not just hired hands, but they liked each other. They both excused themselves from the room.
Her eyes were drawn to a doorway across which a man, talking on a phone, paced back and forth.
“That’s Hastings,” Georgio said. “He is agent and public relations executive for the upcoming concert and anything that might come up as a result of the promotion.” He lowered his voice and leaned near when Hastings again appeared and glanced their way. “I think all this could be done from New York via the phone and computer, but Hastings insists upon the personal touch. Frankly,” he said, “I think he just likes the beach and a few days away from his wife and kids.”
Eva laughed with him. “This is a beautiful place.”
Hastings appeared at the doorway, covered the mouthpiece, and lowered the phone. “Sir, are you available to speak with the concert manager?”
He nodded. “Eva, would you mind waiting for me on the piazza? We can eat out there.”
Soon, Elena joined her with salad, delicate sandwiches, a platter of fresh fruit, and a plate of pastries.
“Mr. Baldovino’s favorite drink is coffee. But we have—”
Eva lifted her hand. “Coffee’s fine with me.” The two of them engaged in conversation about the lovely weather and the wonderful view.
Georgio soon joined Eva at the small white wrought iron table. He apologized for the phone call and explained a few appointments he had coming up. She wondered how he found time to relax.
Eva spread her napkin on her lap and Georgio did the same. She wondered if she should just say an open-eyed, silent blessing. Her glance across the table, however, revealed him smiling.
“Do you always play an invocation,” he asked, “or do you use words?”
Eva laughed. “Since I didn’t bring my violin, I think words would be appropriate.”
He gestured with his hand toward her and a slight nod. Eva bowed her head and said a few words of thanks for the food.
Eva really wanted to know Georgio’s personal status—wife, former wife, fiancée—but didn’t want to chance giving the impression she expected something personal to develop between the two of them.
She needn’t have worried. Ge
orgio asked about her studies at the university, where she had majored in music and had started the quartet during her senior year in college. “Grandpa said he taught me to play the violin as soon as I could hold a bow.”
Georgio nodded understanding. “I doubt I’ve ever had a day without some form of music. I consider myself fortunate for that. Speaking of music,” he said as they munched on pastry and drank coffee, “why does Jack want to hold on to his violin when he claims no particular interest in playing it? Yet, he had it out this morning and offered to allow me to play it with supervision. Was he trying to impress me?”
Eva shook her head on that one. “No. Jack doesn’t think like that. He would want you to appreciate it.”
Georgio looked at his coffee cup for a long moment. Then his gaze met Eva’s. “Do you think,” he asked, “that your grandpa could make me an Alono like Jack’s?”
“If he really wanted to,” Eva said, “I think he could. He studied tone scientifically to discover why the violin does what it does. But—”
“Uh-oh,” Georgio said. “Now comes the negative side of this.”
Eva nodded. “Grandpa considers that Alono his crowning accomplishment. He’s not trying to compete with other violin makers or the Strad.”
She looked at Georgio’s thoughtful expression as he gazed out over the ocean. She remembered that Grandpa had said he could teach her to make a violin like the Alono. After Jack left with the Alono, she wanted to show them both that she could make her own. She tried for awhile, then gave it up. Grandpa had said one must put love into the making of a violin for it to be great. She realized that if Grandpa was right, and she continued, her masterpiece would emulate a heartbreak.
That dormant ambition of hers began to stir. “Perhaps,” she said and waited as the word brought Georgio’s attention back to her. She lifted her chin slightly. “Perhaps I will make you an Alono.”
Chapter 5
Jack sat on the front row in the sanctuary of the church, waiting to make his announcement. He wondered what he would see when he stood before the congregation on Sunday morning. Would he have to look out at Eva and Baldovino?
A part of him would be glad if Baldovino was a Christian and going to be serious about Eva and she about him. However, another part of him wanted to let Eva know how the four years away from home had changed him and had made him realize there was no other woman who touched his heart like she did. He had returned with the intention of finding out if there might be a future for them together.
Perhaps he already had his answer.
Then the pastor was introducing him, saying that most of the congregation would remember when Jack played the piano and sang solos as well as sang in the choir. “He’s been in France for several years studying bow making and has returned,” the pastor said, then mentioned that Jack had talked over an idea with him and the choir director. They were delighted to endorse the plans Jack had for his life and for the church.
“Jack Darren,” the pastor said.
Jack walked up onto the dais. “First,” he said, holding on to each side of the wooden structure in front of him, “let me say how good it is to be back. I feel like I’ve come home. Not only to the city, but to the Lord. I’ve had my training and opportunities. Now I want to give something back to this area and this church.”
He glanced toward the pastor and Jim, the choir director, and mentioned that they had endorsed his idea. “We would like to form an orchestra for the church.” He knew there were several in the congregation who played instruments.
“If you’re interested, meet with me and Jim in the choir room after the service. The players need to have a certain level of experience. Also, in our talking about a music ministry, some of us want to teach those who would like to learn to play an instrument or learn more about singing. Just like you have your children’s choirs, you can also develop a children’s orchestra. This does what we are supposed to do. Train up our children in church and encourage them to use their talents and abilities for the Lord.”
Jack had tried not to look directly at Eva, or anyone for that matter, but he’d felt drawn to her gaze before he returned to his seat on the front pew.
Would Eva join the orchestra? Her participation would almost ensure success. He could play the piano, she and Al the violin. Her quartet might join them. He knew a couple others in the church who played instruments, and there were surely high school band students who could learn to play church music as easily as they learned marches and tunes for their school concerts.
But, would Eva join? Four years ago she had asked him to help her start a string band, but he had left to go to New York, then Paris … with the Alono to which she felt entitled.
Jack could barely keep his mind on the congregational singing, the choir’s special anthem, and the pastor’s message. As soon as it all ended, he hurried to the choir room. When Al came in without Eva, Jack’s heart sank. When Eva walked in, his heart sang.
He felt as if the music of his heart were audible and as if a visible warm glow had spread over him. She must surely detect his pleasure at her appearance. “Eva. You’ll be—”
He didn’t finish saying what an asset she would be to the orchestra. She was shaking her head. “I’ll hurry and get out of your way. I just wanted to ask if it will be okay if I take the Alono to Georgio’s beach house for him to practice this evening.”
Jack felt a rebuke form in his throat and tried not to verbalize it. After all, he had been magnanimous enough to tell Baldovino he could play it in the presence of Al or Eva. He hadn’t expected it to be at the man’s beach house. “This evening, you say?” managed to escape from his fractured voice box.
Eva nodded. “All afternoon he will be at the home of the concert hall’s administrator, meeting Miami’s important people.”
“No need to explain.” Jack didn’t want to hear that after Baldovino associated with those “important people,” he and Eva would be alone at night, at a secluded beach house by the ocean.
“Do you want the Alono to stay at Grandpa’s?”
“No, no. That … that’s fine. Of course you may take it. I made the offer, remember?”
“Thanks.” She turned and walked out of the choir room, leaving him feeling like a song that wouldn’t be sung.
He remembered the Eva of four years ago. The light in her eyes each time she had looked at him indicated a young girl who wanted to be the special person in his life. He’d pretended not to notice.
Now she looked at him with mere tolerance, when she looked at all.
What were her dreams now?
To be a concert violinist?
To be the special person in the life of one?
Eva parked near the cars that had been there the day before. Georgio came off the porch when she opened the trunk to take out the violins.
“The Alono,” she said, handing it to him. “And Grandpa said the Strad is dry. He doesn’t like to do business on Sunday, so you can pay him at your convenience if it’s repaired to your satisfaction.”
He thanked her for bringing the violins. Inside, she again saw Hastings pacing past a doorway. Georgio laughed. “I think he cannot live without a telephone at his ear.”
He led her into a small music room in which a baby grand piano was most dominant. They set down the violins. “You did come prepared to join me for dinner, as I asked?”
“Even if I hadn’t,” Eva said loudly enough for the ears of Elena, who she could see in the nearby kitchen and walked toward it, “that aroma of food would be too enticing to refuse.”
A smiling Elena served them a wonderful dinner at a long, narrow table in a dining area adjacent to the kitchen, separated only by an island.
After dinner Georgio asked if she’d like to walk on the beach. “Elena and Victor often leave after dinner,” he said, “but they will stay until after we return from our walk. Although it’s secluded here, I will not leave the Alono unattended.” Eva appreciated that kind of thoughtfulness.
Eva enjoyed the cool breeze, the quietness of the scene except for the sound of the ocean’s rhythm beneath a tranquil sky.
How different from a couple of days ago when she fretted about not having a mate. Now she walked along the beach with an extraordinarily talented man. She decided to let him lead if there were to be a conversation. After all, he had come here to relax.
“Eva,” he said, after they’d walked for awhile. “Do you have a special boyfriend?”
“I haven’t had time for that.” Eva laughed, thinking of her full schedules for years. “After high school, there was Grandma’s long illness. I moved in with Grandpa and tried to help, but Grandpa wanted to do as much as he could for Grandma and wouldn’t leave her side for long. Jack and I helped keep the shop going. After she died, I had college, the quartet, and the restaurant. In the past couple of years, the quartet has had several local performances and even a cruise.”
“Sounds like you have a full life,” Georgio said.
Eva sighed. “Now, it looks like the quartet may break up. They’re all getting married.”
She felt like this might be a time to ask a pertinent question. “Are you married or anything?”
“I haven’t had time for that,” he said, mimicking what she had said. “I’ve been on a world tour for the past three years. That is how one becomes world famous. Once I have achieved a certain amount of fame, then I can refuse bookings. However—” He spread his hands. “Am I not then obligated to the public? All is not as perfect as it might seem. Once you have reached the top, you’re expected to be perfect. I must practice every day.”
Eva was well aware that if she missed a day’s practice, she could tell a difference in the ease of playing. And yet her requirements were nothing like Georgio’s. “Is that a burden?”
He smiled. “No. I love it. It’s a vital part of me. I care for my violin like a father would care for his baby. Perhaps better. But lately, I have had visions of grandeur, like finding a wife and raising a family. It would be such a change. But I am ready to think about those things.”