Ghost Music Read Online Free PDF Page B

you
ready
for this, Mr. Foznick,
s-i-rr
?’”
    â€œYes, but I want to hear you sing.”
    I licked the tip of my finger and dabbed it into the skillet, to test how hot it was. “Ouch. Almost ready.”
    Kate raised her eyebrows, to show me that she was still waiting.
    â€œOkay,” I relented, lifting both hands in surrender. I cleared my throat, and then I sang, to a
Sound of Music
–style melody,
“‘When it’s spring across the meadows . . . when the wildflowers smell so sweet . . . when the air is fine like sparkling wine . . . then you know you’ve chosen Zweet.’”
    Kate stared at me. “Zweet?
Zweet?
That’s one of those things you hang in the toilet bowl, isn’t it?”
    I shrugged. “What did I tell you? I write music for anything.”
    She laughed. “You’re incredible. It’s such a romantic melody. And it’s for Zweet!”
    â€œI’ve written music for frankfurters, too. And for adult-size diapers.”
    The skillet was good and hot now, so I sizzled the tuna steaks fortwo minutes on each side, and then tossed the salad with lemon-juice dressing. The kitchenette filled up with tuna smoke.
    We sat at the small antique table in the corner of the living room. Kate said, “This is really good. The last time I had seared tuna it was like shoe leather.”
    â€œThanks,” I said. “The secret is, cook it hot but don’t cook it long.” I watched her while she ate. Then I said, “How did you and Victor first meet?”
    â€œOh . . . I was working for
Perfect Home
magazine, and we were doing a layout on remodeled apartments in TriBeCa. Victor owned one of the apartments, and that’s how we met. We finished late one evening, and he invited me out for dinner. I was hungry, and it was the end of the month, so I didn’t have any money. So I said yes.
    I didn’t say anything, but waited until she had finished her next mouthful of fish.
    â€œVictor . . .” she said. “I know he doesn’t seem like my type. He’s self-made, he’s brash, but he used to be very funny sometimes, and he never took no for an answer. Up until then, all of my boyfriends were very serious and academic, and when something upset them, all they did was clear their throat. So Victor came into my life like a hurricane.”
    She paused, and sipped a little wine. “Five weeks after we met, he asked me to marry him. I couldn’t think of any reason why not. He made me happy. He made me laugh. He had plenty of money. So I did.”
    â€œSo how long have you been living in St. Luke’s Place?”
    â€œSometimes it seems like forever. Other times, it seems like the blink of an eye.”
    For some reason, she didn’t want to give me a straight answer. But I didn’t press her. I didn’t really care, to tell you the truth, although I should have. If I had only known
then
what it took me seven more months to find out.
    â€œHow about you?” she asked me. “Anybody special in your life?”
    â€œNope, not at the moment. There was, up until recently. But, you know. She wanted more attention than I could give her, what with work and everything.”
    â€œWas she pretty?”
    I looked at her narrowly. Why did she want to know that?
    â€œYes, she was pretty. She was
very
pretty. She was half-Czech, as matter of fact. Her name was Milka. It means ‘hard-working’ in Czech, but she was one of the laziest girls I ever dated. It was ‘peek up my nail polish for me, Geedeon, I kent quite reach eet.’”
    Kate laughed. “I can’t see you putting up with that. You’re too—” She circled her hand around, trying to think of the right word.
    â€œToo chauvinistic? Too self-important? Too goddamned stubborn?”
    â€œI don’t know. Too sure of yourself. Quiet, yes. But sure of yourself. I guess you have to be, to write music. I mean,