Work Text:
The delivery boy stood, transfixed, at the open door; two bags of groceries, forgotten in his arms.
Illya stood at the door; waiting to accept them.
“She’s a very, good player; isn’t she?”; the young man spoke.
He was referring to Grushenka; who had found some time to keep up her practice.
“I’ve never heard THAT part of it before.”; the young man continued. “It’s wonderful.”
The young man had such a dreamy quality to his voice as he referred to Grushenka’s playing of the second movement of the Claire de Lune.
Illya understood and appreciated music as well as this young man apparently did. Standing aside; he invited him in to listen; closing the door behind him and relieving him of the delivery.
Illyusha, the cat, dropped down from the table to circle the boys legs as his namesake disappeared into the darkened kitchen. Not liking the outdoor scents on him; he left his own behind.
The young man hardly took notice; transfixed as he was by the music. From what seemed far away; he heard the sound of a gas burner being lit; cupboards being opened and closed.
From the piano within the parlor; Grushenka; called out; speaking in Ukrainian.
“Illyusha. Was that someone at the door?”
“It was. It seems that you have an admirer. I’ve asked him in.”
Grushy’s hands upon the keys hesitated.
“Please continue. I’ve asked him to stay for tea.”
Illya had now switched to English and winked at the young man. Illyusha returned to the table to take his warming place under the lamp. The music; now a Tchaikovsky piece; drifted down the hallway. Illya pulled out a chair at the table as he passed into the kitchen.
When he returned to the table; only Illyusha was there. The music continued from the parlor, but now a softly spoken conversation could be heard as its accompaniment.
Illya busied himself setting three places around Illyusha’s presence at the table. He spoke to him; once again, in Ukrainian; asking him to be polite and allow room for company. For a brief moment; Illyusha continued to groom his private bits; his blue eyes a challenge to his namesake.
“Please…”; Illya asked as he took the tray away; three places set around the cat.
Illya left immediately for the kitchen where he went directly to the icebox; pulling out the wrapped salmon; one of the items delivered by the young man. At the smell of it; Illyusha was there; waiting at his bowl near the back stairs that led directly to his and his namesake’s shared bedroom. Illya smiled. The salmon worked every time it was available.
He could have called from the table to inform Grushy and their impromptu guest that tea was served; instead, he decided to request their presence in person.
Arriving at the parlor; he found Grushenka; of course at the piano; her guest on one knee at her side; turning the page.
He cleared his throat; announcing his presence.
“Excuse me, please. Tea is served. I’m sure Pyotr Ilyich won’t mind the interruption for Russian Tea.”
The music stopped. The young man stood; assisting Grushy as she stepped away from the piano.
That afternoon was passed in pleasant company around the table under the antique Tiffany lamp. To both Illya’s and Grushenka’s surprise; Illusha, the cat, had been quite the pleasant host to the young man and had accepted him wholeheartedly after receiving a gentle scratch to his head; only his due.
His name was Rene and he became a familiar face at the home of Grushenka and her two Illyushas.
Rene; it turned out; was a gifted student at the piano. With Illya’s support; he was sent to the Sorbonne; where Illya himself had attended. An equally gifted instructor was arranged for Rene by a heretofore unknown “uncle” of Illya’s.
After his graduation; attended by both Grushenka and Illya; Rene met Uncle Alexander; who was essential in procuring an agent for Rene who’s touring and recording career had become quite successful as a result of that association.