Duets

Maria rarely came to see James anymore, but she was never more glad, nor did she feel more guilty. He understood none of this, of course, and greeted her as warmly each time.
"I thought I might play you the piece--I wrote a second verse, like you thought I should."

She sat, arranged her music, straightened her back, and began to play.

She was finishing the second verse when James seemed to have an idea.
"What if we added some accompinament?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked back.
"The verse you were just playing could be the accompinament for the first verse," he said.
"But this is for services!" she said. "A duet for services?"
"Here. I'll play the second part." And with that he sat down perilously close to her on the piano bench and moved the music closer so that he could see.

Maria's mind was reeling, but she found to her surprise that they managed to keep rhythm together very well. The song finished with a resounding chord."There!" cried James. "How do you like that?"

"It's very nice," Maria agreed.
"You see," he said, resting his hand on hers. "Duets are fit for God's ears, too."
Maria did not know what to say. His hand was still resting on hers lightly, and he was blushing. She let their hands drop onto the keys of the piano, and and a few dischordant notes rang through the whole church.

"Do you think so?" she said. She knew the answer. She knew they were not talking about duets, and she knew James was wrong. But James was far closer to her than God at that moment, and she was very lonely. "I just...don't think it's right."

But now James knew he was wrong, too, for he set her hands gently on the C-chord. "Perhaps not, Mrs. Bede," he said softly. "I begin to think that even musicians must answer to God alone, and in that case perhaps their music ought to be seperate as well."

"No!" cried Maria. "My music has much improved since you started to hear it. I hope you don't mean you won't meet me here again!"
James simply stood to gather up his own music. She could not see his face."I will miss it, Mrs. Bede, " he quietly. "But you are right."
Maria stood too. She did not think she could bear it if she could not see him every once in a while, and spend a quiet afternoon with him and his music.
"Please...Mr. Menzies. I ... did not mean that I did not want to see you. I simply..."

She had nothing to say. He is a better person than even I imagined. I never thought I would regret that in anyone, she thought.
James was suddenly facing her again. "You are an even finer woman than I thought, Mrs. Bede," he said quietly. "I must thank you for keeping me from--being a worse man than I ever imagined myself to be before I met you."

His well-trained voice broke then, along with a thousand other things, and he left the church.