Love in E Flat (19 page)

“I wish I had your positive attitude. I am not so sure.” Agata cocked her head. “What gave you this attitude—the feeling that all will be well?”

Lou frowned but said nothing. Agata watched her, gently placing her hand on her arm. “What has happened in your life? You speak of your parents but nothing of you.”

Lou walked away and sat back at the table. She picked up her wine. “Not much to tell.”

“I think we both know different.”

“Differently. Know your adverbs,” Lou said childishly.

“Do not pick on my English.” Agata sat down, as well. “You will not get off that easy. You are always about fun.” She looked across at Lou. “I read your column in your newspaper this morning.”

Lou cocked her head. “You did?”

“
Da
. It was very good. You are gifted writer. I have one question for you.”

“You’re not letting this go?”

“For a moment. Do you mind?”

“Not the way you’re smiling, I don’t.”

Agata tried to ignore the flirtatious remark. “Why do you write for such a small publication? One would think the
Tribune
would love to have you on its staff.”

“I like the
Sentinel’s
…” For a moment, she was at a loss.

Agata watched her, which made Lou very uncomfortable. “I don’t know. I guess I like the small-town feel of it. I can…”

“Hide?” Agata suggested in a soft voice.

Lou’s head shot up. “No. I’m not hiding.” She leaned in. “Just because I didn’t sell out to the big newspaper and don’t want or need all the notoriety doesn’t mean I’m hiding.” She knew this came out angrier than expected.

“I am sorry. I did not mean to intrude,” Agata said stiffly. She smoothed the napkin in her lap. “Let us talk of something else if you wish.”

“No, it’s all right. I apologize for snapping at you. I suppose I’m not used to talking about…anything.” Lou laughed nervously, avoiding Agata’s grin.

“Who was the young man in the wheelchair?” Agata asked. “At the football game.”

Lou felt her stomach clench. Here it comes, she thought. She looked across the table at Agata’s tender, inquisitive gaze. Damn it. “He played college football. He was touted as the next Dick Butkus.” She saw Agata’s blank look and laughed. “He is an icon of Chicago and Illinois football. Played middle linebacker for the Illini and the Bears.” She waved her hand. “Doesn’t matter. This kid had promise of a great career in professional football. Anyway, he let his ego out of the box and believed the stories written about him. He got full of himself and wanted to prove he was as good as they said. He tackled another player illegally and paid dearly. He snapped a vertebra in his lower back. The other kid had a similar injury. Only Brian will get out of that wheelchair. The other kid isn’t so lucky.”

“That is horrible, very sad. And Brian blames himself?”

“Sure.” Lou looked up. “Wouldn’t you if you were the cause of changing someone’s life forever? Letting your ego get a hold of you, thinking you were invincible?”
 

Agata cocked her head while listening to Lou’s tirade. “Can I make an observation?”

Lou took a deep breath, realizing how her heart pounded in her chest. She didn’t like the direction of this conversation at all, but at the same time, she felt drawn to Agata, wanting to tell her and not knowing or caring why. “Sure,” she found herself saying.

“Each time the conversation turns to you, you get very irritated and defensive.”

“No, I don’t.”

Agata grinned slightly. “
Da
, Comrade. You do,” she said. “I know I am not one to talk. I am very private. So if you do not want to speak of anything…”

“I know exactly how Brian feels,” Lou said, looking at her glass. “It’s why I was talking to him on the field. He’s getting better, but it’ll never go away.”

“You have experienced something similar?”

Lou folded her hands, rubbing them together, trying to collect her thoughts, all the while trying to forget the past. She could feel it bubbling up inside as if she were a volcano ready to blow. She felt the blood rushing through her veins, her heart raced, and her head ached. Am I having a stroke? she thought. When she felt Agata’s warm hand on her wrist, her mind went blank. She looked at the delicate hand, feeling calm and relaxed. This was not good; she was on the verge of spilling her guts.

“What happened, Lou?” Agata asked.

Perhaps it was the soft delicate hand caressing hers; perhaps it was the tender concern in the Russian voice Lou heard; or perhaps Lou just wanted to spill her guts. Whatever the reason…

“I was nineteen and on my way to the tryouts for the U.S. soccer team. I was a shoo-in.” Again, Agata looked confused. Lou smiled. “I couldn’t lose. I knew, everybody knew, I was going to make the team.”

“Ah. So you were very good?”

“Yes. And I knew it. I was young and brash and believed my own press releases. The wonder girl from Illinois who would lead the U.S. team to the world championship. Of course, right after she led the USA in the Olympics. It was all planned. I saw years into the future. I’d play, get the endorsements, and have money, fame, the whole enchilada. That means I’d have it all.” She held out her hands. “Made it, Ma. Top of the world.” Lou leaned in. “That’s from a Jimmy Cagney movie. In case you were wondering.”

“And you did not have it all?” Agata asked, ignoring Lou’s sarcasm.

“Not a movie lover?” Lou sat back. “No. I did not get it all. I went out to a party the night before the tryouts. Took a teammate with me. Of course, I had to drive. I was invincible, remember? Nothing could stop me. So we partied. Charlene told me not to drive, but what did she know?” Lou oozed sarcasm; she watched as Agata winced at the vehemence in her voice. The gates were open, and there was no going back now. “I drove too fast, swerved to get back in my lane to avoid hitting an oncoming car and hit the embankment. Rolled the car, broke my leg in three places, and put Charlene in a wheelchair.”

“What happened to your friend?”

Lou took a long drink. “She’s living with her family in Florida now. The weather suits her better. For a long time, she was completely paralyzed. But they always said she would regain some movement. Now she’s out of the wheelchair and has a normal life.” She took a drink of wine before continuing. “I’ve spoken with her throughout the years and made a nuisance of myself apologizing every time I talked to her. She accepted each time, until I think she got tired of me and told me I needed to get on with my life,” she said abruptly. “But the point was she couldn’t get on with her life as long as I kept reminding her and apologizing.” She laughed rudely. “Even then I was selfish, wanting forgiveness.”

“You have been carrying this around for almost twenty years?”

“Give or take,” Lou said rudely. She picked up the bottle of wine.

Agata placed her hand over her glass. “I am finished.”

Lou set the bottle down and pushed her glass away. “Me too. Though I have a feeling you could have outlasted me anyway.”

Agata raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Never try to keep up with a Russian. Especially when they are drinking vodka, Comrade. Thank God we were not.”

Lou laughed. “I’ll remember that.”

“Is this why you do not drive?”

“You are now like dog with bone,” Lou said in a Russian accent. “Yes. The only thing that saved me from incarceration was the weather. It was raining heavily, and the alcohol in my blood was right at the legal limit. I had a good lawyer. Big deal. I had my license suspended for a year, but after that, I still couldn’t get behind the wheel. Time went by, and I just never drove again. It’s not that hard living in the city.” She shook her head. “Small price to pay for ruining a family.”

“You wish they would have put you in jail. That would have made you feel better?”

“I should have suffered as I caused Charlene and her family and my family and the team to suffer. I got off easy.”

“Easy,” Agata said. “You carry this around in your heart all these years. Not forgiving yourself, not living, and you think you get off easy?” She leaned forward. “You are like character right out of Dostoyevsky novel.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Yes, you do.”

Lou stared at the table. She felt her throat tighten. “Everything changed in one minute. One stupid minute that I can never get back.”

“This is true. You cannot.” Agata sat back and smoothed the napkin in her lap. “But you cannot go back. So,” she said, “you have choice.”

“Really?” Lou said, oozing sarcasm again.

“
Da
. We all have choice.” She stopped and looked out the window. “You can either wallow in self-pity until your fingers get all wrinkly and pruny…” She looked back to Lou, who was stunned. “Or you can take step to move forward with life. Choice is for you to make.” She reached over and picked up an olive and smiled. “All this talk has made me hungry. I have taste for a big steak.”

“I think I’ll just sit here and wallow…”

“Don’t be baby. You must eat.”

Lou picked at the antipasto salad; she had no idea the topic of conversation would turn to her. She felt bad when she realized how sarcastic she was and for snapping at Agata. She absently speared a piece of salami, stealing a glance at Agata, who seemed to be fine—she was eating.

“Look,” Lou said, setting her fork down. “I’m sorry I got snippy.”

Agata looked up. “It is no matter. I was out of the boundary. Perhaps it is better to be business.” She smiled slightly when Lou did not respond. “You can tell me to go piss up rope.”

Lou sat back and laughed then. “I would never. I appreciate your frankness. I haven’t talked about that time in my life for so long.”

“It feels good?”

“Yeah. It kinda does. Thanks,” Lou said. Suddenly, her appetite came back; she was ravenous.

“You’re welcome. So is our interview over?” Agata looked down at her plate.

“I don’t want it to be. I’ve been grilled enough. I’m done on both sides.” She looked at Agata and laughed. “Never mind. I’m sure I can come up with more questions.”

“Well, you have not asked me about my education.”

“That’s true.” Lou wiped her mouth on the napkin. “So tell me, Madam Karetnikov, where were you educated?”

“Is none of your business.”

For a moment, Lou sat back, watching the serious look. When Agata’s lips twitched, Lou laughed. “Ya got me.”

Agata grinned. “I attended St. Petersburg Conservatory as a young woman, as my father had.”

“But not as a young woman…”

Agata shook her head. “No, Comrade.”

Lou grinned. “And before that?”

“I was tutored as a child.”

“Tortured?”

Agata hid her grin. “Tutored.”

“Oh. Ah, yes. The man who smelled of vegetable soup.”

“You have very good memory.”

“Thank you,” Lou said with a nod. “Now please tell me about the song you played the other night. ‘The Swan.’ Can I tell you something?”

“Could I stop you?”

Lou laughed. “When I watched you, you looked as if the song meant a great deal to you. Does it bring back a fond memory?” She cocked her head and continued, “You looked so peaceful and serene, and very captivating.”