Chapter 31: The Sarabande

I read the signature twice, and then I looked at his back.

"You signed the answer," I said.

"Yes."

"Do you want the divorce?"

"No." He turned around. "I want you to have the paper. That's all."

"Why?"

"If you finish it, I won't contest anything. If you don't, it stays in the folder. Either way, you don't need my permission to walk out."

I looked at the page in my hand.

Nobody who wanted me had ever handed me the door before.

"Put it in a drawer," I said.

"Which drawer?"

"Yours. I'll tell you when I need it."

"All right."

"I mean it, Soren. I'm not saying yes to anything this morning."

"I didn't ask you for yes."

"You want to."

"Of course I want to," he said, and he almost smiled. "I just didn't ask."

I put the folder in the drawer under the toaster myself.

Then I made the coffee.

He stood close enough behind me that I could feel the warmth of him.

Neither of us said another word until noon, when Elin honked outside.

In December the orchestra gave a concert at Orchestra Hall, in the first snow.

I had been back in the second chair of the cello section since October, with the old cello between my knees.

The hand held.

It was stiff in the mornings, and it tired after two hours.

Dr. Koski sent me a short note every month that said only, "Eighty-six."

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