The Christmas Violin Read Online Free Page B

Tampa,” the head flight attendant announced.
    Peter grabbed his attaché case from the overhead storage compartment and shuffled off the plane behind a man who reeked of stale smoke and musk-scented aftershave. Peter’s interview was tomorrow, but he had decided to come a day early to scope out the area. He had never been to Tampa before.
    Maybe he’d drive to Clearwater beach. He loved the beach. Camilla loved the beach, too. She loved it almost as much as Disney. He smiled, remembering their spur of the moment getaways to Assateague Island. Camilla loved watching the wild horses. One time while swimming in the ocean, they looked up toward their blanket and saw one of the feral horses with its nose inside her striped beach bag. They ran to their blanket, but by the time they got there the horse had taken off with a bag of pretzels.
    Peter smiled at the memory, remembering Camilla in her bright yellow bikini that hugged her body and highlighted her deep tan. Like him, she had a dark complexion and dark eyes, and she tanned easily.
    After weaving his way through the crowd to the airport concourse, Peter hit the restroom and then Starbucks for a black coffee. He arrived at the baggage carousel just as it coughed awake. He got lucky. His suitcase was one of the first on the belt so he didn’t have to wait long. He could always tell his suitcase from every other black leather Samsonite because of the pink ribbon Camilla had tied to the handle for easy identification. Even so, he always looked at the luggage tag. It was habit. Like knowing you turned off the iron but checking it anyway.
    On his way to his hotel in downtown Tampa, Peter noticed the old Tampa Bay Hotel. It was hard to miss with its Moorish minarets, domes and cupolas.
    Peter had a thing for trains, and he knew the hotel was built by railroad magnate Henry Plant in the late 1800s. Some people called it “Florida’s First Magic Kingdom”. He thought Camilla would have gotten a kick out of that.
    On a whim, he stopped to get a closer look. He hadn’t planned on it, but he knew that sometimes the best things in life are the things you don’t plan.
    Willow
    Willow sat on the examination table, her legs dangling over the side. She stared at the self-breast exam poster on the wall. She was deep in her thoughts when the door opened.
    “Good morning, Willow,” said Dr. Hilton, a round lady with a wide grin. “How are you today?”
    Willow sighed. “I’d be better if I wasn’t here.”
    “I know. I feel the same when I have to go for my annual check-up. I promise I’ll make this as quick and as painless as possible.”
    Willow slid her butt down the examination table toward Dr. Hilton and placed her feet in the metal stirrups. She stared at the ceiling, trying to think pleasant thoughts while Dr. Hilton examined her. Willow remembered being in this same exam room in this same position when she was pregnant with Luke.
    She had been more tired than usual and attributed it to her demanding performance schedule. It was a couple of months since her night with Dan, whom she hadn’t seen or spoken to since. She thought it was better that way.
    He had a family and she certainly didn’t want to break that up, no matter how miserable Dan was. It was a one-night thing. Something they both needed. She would leave it at that. Besides, it wasn’t like he tried to contact her, and she was easy to find. Her performance schedule was publicized online. It wouldn’t have been hard for him to track her down if he had wanted to.
    Willow’s mom, who lived in Florida and was visiting, insisted that Willow see a doctor after hearing her throw up in the bathroom.
    “There’s something going around,” her mom said. “Nora had it last week. And she said Jesse and his family had it the week before. You’re paler than you normally are. And when’s the last time you ate a decent meal? You can’t live on Life cereal.”
    “OK. I’ll make an appointment later.”
    Willow’s