There was a slight pause in music while the discs changed and then a new mood came through Mr. Lincrest’s old hi fi.
“So very sophisticated,” Kacie said, after listening for a moment.
“It’s this collection of discs with funny names,” Tabby said. “Like they’ve rebranded the classics or something. Bach for Breakfast. Mozart for Your Morning Workout.”
“Strauss for Stress Relief?” I asked. “How very clever.”
“Dvorak for Dinner,” Joel said.
“Beethoven for Beers?” Chris asked.
“Haydn for Hangovers,” I said.
“Haydn,” Joel said, “Nice pull.”
“It’s not Dvorak,” I said. “You tuning into the college station out there at Pitt?”
“Right. Like the Pitt station plays classical music.” He laughed.
“I started with the Victoria’s Secret tapes,” Tabby admitted. “Free with purchase. Full of Tchaikovsky. Swan Lake, Nutcracker, Sleeping Beauty. Stuff I’d heard on cartoons.” She had the attention of everyone at the table. She pulled her glass to her in an elegant gesture, smiled gently toward Joel.
“Tchaikovsky for Children,” Joel said.
“I like it when I study,” Tabby said. “No lyrics to distract.”
“I’ll have to try it when I paint,” Tony said. “Instead of Matchbox Twenty.” He grinned at me. His blue eyes were clear, shining, and happy.
“They were also the cheapest CDs at Tower Records, remember?” Joel said. “So I could buy three of those or one Alice in Chains. Easy choice.”
Then we all listened again for a moment, the clink of forks and wine glass stems to plates as they were set down and lifted in turn.
“Brian’s mom plays classical music at dinner time,” Kacie said.
Tony laughed. “Yeah, she does. Always has.”
“Makes me hungry,” Kacie said.
“That’s the intention,” I said, reaching under the table and folding her fingers into mine. I caught Tony’s eye again and he nodded at me right before he shoved a forkful of lasagna in his mouth.
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