Son of Stone (Stone Barrington 21) - Page 89
“I’ve heard it before,” Hattie said, getting to her feet. “And now I think I have to get home and walk the dog. I take him to Central Park about this time every day, and he’ll be expecting me.”
“I’ll walk you down and get you a cab,” Peter said.
The two went downstairs and got their coats.
Peter was back in ten minutes, and he came into the master suite.
“You want to listen to Hattie’s recording?”
“Sure,” Stone said. “Put it in the player over there.” He pointed. He tossed Peter the remote for the other side of the electric bed. “Get comfortable,” he said. Peter inserted the disc.
The music started, and Stone turned up the volume to concert level.
The two pieces finished, and they were both silent for a moment.
“That was breathtaking,” Stone said after a moment.
“It sure was.”
“Did you know she was that good before today?”
“I heard her improvise some stuff in a recital hall at school, but I’m astonished.”
“Is she going to pursue a concert career?”
“No, but she’s going to study composition at Juilliard this fall. She says she doesn’t want a career as a concert artist.”
“I don’t blame her,” Stone said. “That’s quite a girl, Peter. Hang on to her, if you can.”
“I wonder if Yale has a music school,” Peter said.
42
S tone was in bed the following morning with the Sunday
Times when Peter came into the room. “Good morning,
Dad,” he said.
“Good morning, Peter. Did you sleep well?”
Peter looked a little sheepish. “Not all that well.”
“Ah,” Stone said, “thinking about Hattie?”
“Well, yes.”
“Tell you what: Ben is off to Choate tomorrow morning; why don’t you and I and Ben and Dino have dinner at Elaine’s, and you can ask Hattie to join us.”
“Terrific!” Peter said. “She’s never been to Elaine’s, and she wants to go.” He ran out of the room, then quickly returned. “I know that she usually has dinner with her parents on Sunday nights. May I ask them to join us, too?”
“Of course,” Stone said. “Let me know how many to book for.”
Peter ran out and returned in ten minutes. “Everybody’s aboard. There’ll be seven of us. I wish Mom were
here.”
“So do I.” As if on cue, the phone rang. “Hello?”
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