Olivia’s parents ask me about my music, how I got into the fiddle and stuff like that.
And I tell them about how I used to play classical violin but I got into Appalachian folk music and then zydeco.
And they’re listening to every word like they’re really interested.
They tell me to let them know the next time my band’s playing a gig so they can come listen.
I’m not used to all the attention, to be truthful. My parents don’t have a clue about what I want to do with my life.
They never ask. We never talk like this.
I don’t think they even know I traded my baroque violin for an eight-string Hardanger fiddle two years ago.
After dinner we go back to Olivia’s for some ice cream. Their dog greets us at the door. An old dog. Super sweet.
She’d thrown up all over the hallway, though. Olivia’s mom rushes to get paper towels while the dad picks the dog up like she’s a baby.
“What’s up, ol’ girlie?” he says, and the dog’s in heaven, tongue hanging out, tail wagging, legs in the air at awkward angles.
“Dad, tell Justin how you got Daisy,” says Olivia. “Yeah!” says Auggie.
The dad smiles and sits down in a chair with the dog still cradled in his arms.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색