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Authors: Kate Sweeney

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BOOK: Love in E Flat
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“Madam? World famous?”

“Then I’m going to kill you.”

“Well, if you would have just let me kill myself last night as I wanted to, none of this would have happened,” Lou whispered over her shoulder. “Ya know, now that I’m thinking about it, this is all your fault.”

Edie led the way to the restroom and threw the door open. “Start talking.”

Lou leaned against the counter and told her what had transpired by the stage door.

Edie shook her head. “You called her ‘sweetheart’ and ‘snooty’?”

“Well, it could’ve been worse. I wanted to call her a snooty bitch.” Lou sagged against the wall of the ladies’ room and looked around. “This is a nice restroom. It’s bigger than my apartment…”

Edie put the finishing touches on her makeup. She unceremoniously threw everything back in her purse. Lou watched silently as the purse took a beating. Better it than her…

“You shouldn’t wear so much makeup. It’s bad for your pores.” She let out a dejected sigh when she got the glare. “I’m sorry, Edie. I had no idea who she was.”

“I know.” She stopped and laughed. “I wish I could have seen it. I must admit to you, she has a reputation of being abrupt with people.”

“I’ll apologize to her if it’ll help with the interview.”

“We’ll see. C’mon, let’s get out of the bathroom at least. I’m sure she’s about done.”

“Okay.” Lou opened the door. “Maybe she can’t speak good English. I can try my hand at Russian.”

“Please. You’ve done enough.”

“I can do this. Let’s see.” Lou cleared her throat.

 
Edie laughed as they walked out of the restroom. “Don’t start.”

 
“Comrade Karetnikov,” Lou started in a dramatic Russian accent as she marched back and forth. “I wish I could goose-step. But no matter. I want you should report back to Moscow immediately and see General Boris Badenov and Comrade Natasha Fatale.”

“Lou…”

“Oh, and do not forget cello. It belongs to state. You can keep the case. I do not want it said we do not care about the peoples. But…first we must get moose, then we get squirrel.” She stopped pacing. “
Dasvidania
, Comrade Karetnikov with the beautiful blue eyes.” She laughed and looked at Edie, who had her hand covering her face. “C’mon, it wasn’t that bad, was…?”

Agata Karetnikov walked out of the shadow and stood next to Edie. “The Cold War is over. Or don’t you read...Comrade Fatale?”

The low sultry voice sent a chill through Lou as she threw her hands up in defeat. “Man, I cannot catch a break.”

“Madam Karetnikov…”

Agata held up her hand to Edie and smiled. “It is all right.”

“We can still have the interview?”

“Certainly.” She looked at Lou, who smiled slightly. “I should not let one imbecile cause a national uproar.”

Lou’s grin quickly faded. “Hey—”

Edie quickly but gently took Agata by the elbow. “We can have coffee if you like. Or would you like to wait and do this in the morning?”

“The morning would be fine, Mrs. Trent. I think this is enough for one night.” Agata offered her hand. “I am staying at the Four Seasons. Will you call me around ten?”

“Of course. Thank you, Madam Karetnikov.” Edie took the offered hand.

Lou couldn’t help but notice the delicate hand. She felt like an idiot when she jumped back as Agata turned to her.

“Good night,” Agata said in a low voice. “Comrade.”

Lou winced and nodded; she wanted to apologize but had no idea what to say. “G’night.”

They watched as she walked down the stairs and out of sight. Edie turned to Lou. “Well. That went well at least.”

“She’s a very gracious woman,” Lou said quietly. “Sorry, Edie.”

Edie grabbed her hand. “C’mon. I need a drink. And you’re buying…many.”

 

Chapter 3

Luke sat at the bar, apparently done for the evening, and turned as they approached. He adjusted the Christmas decoration on the bar, placing it just so. The grin, which spread across his handsome face, turned to a frown as Lou and Edie sat. “How was it?” he asked slowly.

“Which part?” Edie sighed. Lou shook her head.

“What happened?” Luke watched them as he hailed the bartender. “Susan, get them whatever they want…on me.”

“No,” Lou said. “I’m buying.”

As they gave Susan their order, Edie explained the evening while Lou stared straight ahead, inanely counting the various bottles of scotch on the mirrored wall behind the bar.

Edie’s explanation was mercifully short. “But her music was heaven.”
 

They were silent for a moment.

“Would you like that splash of hemlock now?” Luke asked Lou.

Edie laughed; she leaned over and kissed Lou on the cheek. “It’s okay. I still have the interview, and I have to admit it was amusing. You should hear Lou’s Russian accent.”

Luke laughed. “I can imagine. Now,” he said, “did she play ‘The Swan’?”

Edie grinned and nodded. “As I said, it was heaven.”

Luke put his hand to his heart. “Oh, I wish I had been there.”

“It was beautiful,” Lou said, staring at her glass. She looked up to see Luke’s surprised expression. “I’m not a complete idiot.” She took a healthy drink. “What’s the story behind the song?”

“Saint-Saens, a French composer, wrote
The Carnival of Animals
back in the late eighteen hundreds, I believe. ‘The Swan’ was one of fourteen movements. From what I understand, he never had them published while he was alive. He thought they were too silly for the serious compositions he had done.” Luke leaned back and picked up his drink. “Take over, dear.”

Edie chuckled. “He only allowed ‘The Swan’ to be played while he was alive. He really only played it for close friends. You know, like Liszt.”

“Franz Liszt?” Lou asked.

“No,” Luke said dryly, “his brother Lenny.”

Edie stopped laughing when Lou glared at them. “Shut up, Nancy.”

“Kids…” Edie said as she sat between them. “Anyway. ‘The Swan’ is the most recognizable movement from the suite.”

“Hey, wasn’t it in a Disney movie?” Lou asked. “And I know I’ve heard that somewhere else.”

Luke groaned. “Yes, you jock…”

“Hey…”

“It was in
Fantasia
, yes. But it was Ana Pavlova who really made it famous,” Edie said. “She was a ballerina and had it choreographed in the early nineteen hundreds, calling it
The Dying Swan
, after she read Tennyson’s poem by the same name. It was very famous. Pavlova made it very sad, dancing as a swan throughout and ending as it dies. Very sad.”

“Heart-wrenching.” Luke sighed. “But beautiful.”

“Hmm,” Lou said. Then she remembered where she heard the music before. She hailed the bartender. “And it all comes back to sports.”

Luke gasped. “That’s sacrilegious! How can you compare the grace and beauty to some sweaty Neanderthal? Not that I’d mind one…” His voice trailed off as he stared at nothing.

Lou and Edie exchanged glances before Lou snapped her fingers in his face. “Come back, Luke.”

He then shook his head. “No. That’s impossible. You saw how elegant Karetnikov was tonight, Lou. How can you say that?”

Edie raised her hand. “Oh, Luke, Lou has that look in her eye. You’re treading on dangerous ground now, my friend. I’d be careful.”

Lou grinned and raised her glass to her friend. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Edie said, touching Lou’s glass with her own.

“I’d like an answer,” Luke said, still distraught. “If there is one.”

Lou shrugged. “Oksana.”

Luke picked up the linen napkin and narrowed his eyes. “Gesundheit.”

Behind the bar, Susan laughed, then cleared her throat as she wiped down the far corner of the bar.

“Oksana Baiul,” Lou continued, “1994 Lillehammer Olympics.”

Edie shook her head. “I warned you. When it comes to sports, Lou is an idiot.” She looked at Lou. “Savant, an idiot savant.”

“What about it?” Luke asked, ignoring Edie.

Lou turned to him. “She skated to ‘The Swan’ in the exhibition gala after she had won the gold medal, beating our own Nancy Kerrigan, I might add.”

Luke seemed stunned. “I don’t believe a jock could do it justice.”

“Would you like to make a small wager?”

“Don’t do it, Luke,” Edie warned, taking a drink.

“Sure,” he said. “What’s the wager?”

“I like the food here.” Lou looked around the elegant dark wood.

Edie groaned. “Luke, YouTube it first.”

“Is it a bet?” Lou asked, completely full of herself. She had him, and she knew it.

Luke swallowed with difficulty. Then inexplicably, he grinned like the Cheshire cat, which worried Lou. “Okay, but if you’re right, then you can bring a guest to dinner, my treat. It’ll be a nice Christmas present.”

Lou laughed. “If you’re paying, I’ll bring a date. My mama didn’t raise no fool.”

“Is it a bet?” He stuck out his hand.

“Lou.” Edie stopped Lou as she reached across. “I don’t like the look on his face.”

Lou scoffed and waved her off. She shook Luke’s hand.

“I choose the date?” he asked.

She thought about it for a moment and smiled. “Sure.” As he let go, Lou held his hand. “But it has to be a woman, and…”

“I know your type, Lou Preston, not to worry.”

Susan interrupted them, setting a laptop on the bar. “Let’s get this settled tonight.”

After a few keystrokes, she turned the laptop toward them. They watched as the young Olympian gracefully skated.

Luke watched and put his hand to his heart when the video finished. “I can’t believe it. She was elegant, and I was wrong, Lou. It was beautiful.”

Lou smiled, still full of herself. “So you got a sister coming to town?”

“No, no sister. Someone more interesting,” he said with a wide grin. “Dinner with Comrade Karetnikov should prove very interesting, I think. What do you think, Edie?”

If Lou’s mouth dropped any farther, it would have hit the table.

“And if you welsh on this bet, I’ll have it all over town…” Luke sat back and lightly drummed the bar with his hands. “I think Lou needs a drink. And I’ll buy this one.”

“Lenny Liszt.” Sue laughed and slapped at Luke’s arm. “I just got it.”

*******

Lou tossed her keys in the dish. After locking the door, she flipped off the light and made her way to the bedroom, unbuttoning and peeling off the ceremonial pantsuit and tossing it on a nearby chair where it would be worn in another year or at a funeral, whichever happened first. She headed right for the shower and let the hot water pour over her head.

What a night, she thought as she placed both hands on the wall; she lowered her head to allow the water to cascade down her back. She had no idea how famous this Russian was; if Edie and Luke were any indication, she must be royalty. Lou laughed and picked up the bar of soap and lathered.

“Comrade Karetnikov,” she whispered in a Russian accent. “First we get moose…”

She wondered if Agata thought her Russian comedy in one act was funny. “Probably not,” she said as she rinsed the shampoo out of her hair and turned off the shower. “Maybe she has no sense of humor.”

It’d be fun to find out, she thought as she vigorously towel-dried her hair. She looked into the mirror and grinned. “She was good-looking. In a snooty kinda way.” She ran her fingers through her hair.

She brushed her teeth while looking at her reflection. Edie had been bugging her lately to color the new silver streaks that seemed to form overnight at her temples. She laughed, nearly choking on her toothpaste at Edie’s words: “On a man, it’s dashing. On a woman, it’s old.”

Lou truly didn’t care. To her, it was part of life, and there was much more to worry about than graying hair. Not that Louisa Jean Preston worried about much. She gargled, wiped her mouth on the towel, and tossed it into the hamper, well, near the hamper.

At nearly forty years old, Lou had enough of worrying, had enough of life’s trappings, and at one point in her life, she just had enough of life. As she crawled naked into bed, she winced as the sharp pain shot through her lower leg to her knee. She let out an audible groan as she stretched her body. Yep, she thought, there was a time when she didn’t give a hairy rat’s rump about life and all it had to offer. She wasn’t going to succumb to all the bullshit anymore. She loved her job and the hell with the past.

Lou was good at writing about the world of sports. It had been her world and her parents’ world for so long, it was second nature to her. She used to play an active role, but now…

“Now,” she whispered and rolled onto her side, hugging her pillow. “Now I sleep and forget it all.”

As she drifted off to sleep, the last vision that ran through her mind was of the soft delicate features of Agata Karetnikov.

BOOK: Love in E Flat
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