V. The violin
V. The violin
As told by Milo
After dinner, Nina invited me over to the couch on the living room. Steffen helped their parents to clear the table while Nina and I made ourselves comfortable. Eventually, the rest of the family joined us, taking seats on nearby comfortable chairs. Steffen broke the comfortable silence.
"Hey sis, when are you going to tell us how you could afford such an expensive collar?"
"Oh, but that's easy," Nina replied with a smile, "I couldn't."
"Then how did it end up around your neck, darling?" her mother questioned.
"I gave it to her," I commented plainly.
A short silence followed, during which six eyes filled with disbelief stared at me.
"Let me rephrase," Steffen broke said silence, "Milo, when are you going to tell us- wait, never mind. That would be inappropriate to ask."
Gregory nodded.
With a sigh, I looked down. "My mother used to wear that collar. When I was ten years old, my parents died in a car crash. The collar is one of the few personal belongings of my parents I kept with me through all these years. As it was clearly designed for a female, I saved the collar to give it to a special girl."
"I'm sorry for your loss, kid," Gregory said with solidarity.
"Thanks."
Another short silence.
"You know, when Nina told me about your invitation, I was reluctant at first, but I didn't dare to tell her."
"Milo... you know you can tell me anything, don't you?"
I nodded. "But that would have hurt your feelings. Besides, it's not about you, rather something personal. Ever since my parents died, my grandparents took care of me, but the annual festivities were always a harsh reminder of their absence. I haven't celebrated any feast since I moved out at age seventeen."
"Then how did you spend your winter breaks?" Stephen queried aloud.
"In solitude, basically waiting for it to be over. I usually didn't stay up at New Year's Eve either."
"So in short, you were afraid of what today would remind you of?" Lindya asked.
"Very much so, but now that I've been introduced to you, it's not as hard as I thought it would be. Initially, I accepted the invitation just to be polite, but you've made me realize that I should try to put the past behind me. Although I won't ever forget my parents, I have found a girl that makes me happy, so I want to look forward and enjoy the presence of someone I love, rather than the absence of those I have loved."
"You're quite the wise kid at such a young age, Milo," Gregory stated.
"I didn't make all of that up myself, don't worry," I dodged.
Gregory smiled at me and then turned to his son.
"In other news, I'd like to hear what you've learned this week, Steffen."
"Well, I have been working on a composition, but it's a duet and it's not finished, so that'd make it impossible in two different ways."
The big Mountain Dog drooped his ears at the words of his son, but by the expression on his muzzle, I could tell that he was playing pretend.
"However, I do have another fine piece I could play for the four of you. Would that be okay?"
"All in favor, say 'aye'!" Gregory laughed.
Not waiting for an answer, Steffen went to his room to retrieve his violin. He returned a minute or so later with the instrument, a beautifully shaped violin, painted in an icy blue color. In his other hand, he carried a compact disc.
"Officially, this piece is supposed to be accompanied by a piano, but since we lack a piano, I'll have to make do with a recording. But please, don't let that disturb you. This is Violin Sonata in A major, by Mr. César Franck," he announced as if he were the conductor of a large orchestra.
Steffen put the disc in the stereo system and pressed play. After a couple of seconds, the warm sound of a grand piano filled the room. A few moments later, let his bow touch the stings and tuned in with the recording.
He went on for minutes, probably even half an hour, until the piece was finally finished. It was not until the very end that I noticed that my eyes had been closed for the entire time. The next thing that struck me was that Nina was idly playing with the fur on the tip of my tail.
Almost instinctively, the small audience applauded the young artist. To complete the experience, Steffen bowed for us, as if he had just finished a full-blown concert in a large concert hall. He proceeded to retrieve the disc from the stereo system and went back to his room to put his violin away.
When he had returned, Gregory asked for my attention.
"Milo, as you might know, we have a ritual of giving each other presents with Midwinter. However, since we had never met you before and we invited you fairly late, we didn't really know what to buy you. Therefore, we decided that we will share our presents tomorrow, so you won't feel left out. Is that okay with you?"
"I don't mind. Your hospitality is a gift to me, not to mention the relationship I have with Nina," I replied, winking to my princess.
Nina smiled.
"You're embarrassing me, Milo," she said.
"Really?" I asked, tilting my head.
"Of course not. Anyway, didn't you actually buy a present earlier today?"
I then remembered the bottle of wine I had purchased, so I excused myself to retrieve it from my bag in the guest room. On my return, I presented the gift to the householder. Gregory unpacked the present with a big smile on his muzzle.
He decided to open the bottle immediately, since it was part of the festivity. Lindya gathered a glass for each one of us so her husband could pour the scarlet liquid in. The wine had an exquisite scent to it and I wondered what it would taste like.
When we all had our glass of wine, Lindya took a small book from the bookshelf in the living room. She flipped a few pages until she found the one she was looking for. The book was a collection of poetry, with the piece she recited being an old Midwinter poem.
It was about how people trusted on the spirit of Winter to turn back the downward spiral of the decreasing length of the day. Each year, on Midwinter, people would make sacrifices in an attempt to get in the favor of the spirit. Some people still performed rituals on the shortest day, be it by tradition or in faith. The five of us, however, thought of it as an old myth.
After reciting the poem, Lindya raised her glass and waited for us to follow her example. Together, we drunk from our glasses. The liquid tasted even better than it smelled, leaving a warm glow in my throat after I swallowed it. We spent the rest of the night socializing and cracking jokes, and I was not even once bothered by memories from a time long gone.