Saturday was Beth's twenty-first birthday—officially her first day of financial independence. Accordingly, she decided not to go to her own birthday party, the party her mother had planned for her against her wishes. It was to be an elegant and formal affair: dinner and dancing, music, champagne... the works. The sort of thing she hated, in fact. So while her mother was no doubt fuming at the hotel where the event would take place without the guest of honor, she and Mikhail and I, along with a few other friends of hers, instead spent the day sailing lazily along the coastline in her sailboat—one of the many inheritances now in her possession.

For her gift, I'd written to my mother and had her send me a copy of an old photograph I knew she had of me and Ruby, then cut out Ruby's face and slipped it into a pretty antique locket. The locket itself was gold, with a tiny ruby set in the front. Beth was delighted with it, and even teared up a little as she stared at the small photo before throwing her arms around me and hugging me hard in gratitude.

The next day, Mikhail and I took a picnic lunch to the beach, then spent the rest of the day relaxing there, sometimes in the sun and sometimes in the shade—reading Tennyson together, chatting, or just lying quietly side by side, holding hands. We dined at a raw bar there on the beach, and afterwards we returned to my sitting room, where I listened as he rehearsed the pieces he planned to perform the following morning, which were intended to highlight the versatility of his favored instrument.

Monday, I'd arranged to meet Beth for shopping and lunch. I had a few more people to buy souvenirs for, and I wanted to look for another present for Cam, too, as I'd be returning home on his birthday. Beth was curious when I explained for whom I was buying a gift, so as we shopped, I gave her an abbreviated history of my double romance. She was intrigued by the whole situation, and begged me to let her know who I picked in the end and to be sure to invite her to the wedding. I laughed and agreed—as long as her mother stayed at home. "No fear!" she said emphatically, and we laughed again as we walked along the sidewalk.

By lunchtime, I still hadn't found anything, and I was supposed to meet Mikhail at my room in just over an hour. "Well... what does he like?" Beth asked after we'd ordered.

"His favorite things are flowers... cats... going for walks on the mountain... spicy food... and not a whole lot else! I mean, he's pretty laid back and there's lots that he likes, but I don't want to get him a present that's just okay."

"Well... take him out to dinner? Or make him a romantic dinner for two?"

"There are only two restaurants between the two towns on the mountain. One of them he doesn't care for, and the other one is the one run by the people he lives with. I'd love to make him dinner, but my brother will still be there." Then suddenly something clicked, and I sat bolt upright. "Or wait! Maybe he could stay with one of the other guys in town for the night so I can have the house to myself! He seemed like he hit it off with Dirk pretty well, and Kana's always dependable. I'll write to him today and see if he would do that for me. Then I can have Cam come over for dinner, and we can have some quiet time alone to catch up. Oh, that's perfect—I hope Rob is willing!"

After lunch, I hurried back to my room and wrote a letter to Rob, asking him if he could arrange that—secretly, of course—and to let me know as soon as possible so I could make my plans. I sealed and stamped the envelope just as Mikhail knocked on my door, so I dropped the letter in the outgoing mail basket as we left. Mikhail smiled at me as we stepped outside, saying he'd arranged a little surprise for me, and he led me down to the beach.

Standing before me was a pair of beautiful snow-white horses, held by a teenaged boy. I stopped and looked up at Mikhail in astonishment, and he smiled and squeezed my hand. "I arranged to lease them for the afternoon. I thought you must be missing your horse, given that you spend nearly as much time in the saddle as out of it."

"I do miss her—I love horseback riding. But I didn't know that you know how to ride!"

"A little," he replied with a grin. "I thought perhaps you might be willing to give me a lesson?"

"Definitely!" I exclaimed, pulling him over to them to make their acquaintances. The lad pointed out the quieter of the two and offered me a boost, which I declined, figuring that Mikhail should have the more gentle mount.

We spent the afternoon riding on the beach, splashing through the surf. By dinnertime, he had improved considerably—he'd make a fine horseman, if he chose. However, I warned him that he would almost certainly be stiff and sore the next morning, and to be sure to stretch thoroughly and have a long soak in a hot bath before going to bed.

We had dinner at a café, then we walked back to my room. I told him to go home and get some rest, as he was tired from the day's riding, and reminded him again to stretch and take a hot bath. He said he'd come over after breakfast and we'd decide how to spend our day then. Then he kissed me good night, and I went to take a long, hot bath myself.

I was a little bit stiff myself the next morning, since I hadn't been on horseback in over a week, but by the time I'd showered and dressed, I had worked out the knots in my muscles. I went down to breakfast, then returned to my room to read while I waited for Mikhail.

I looked up after a while, and to my surprise, I saw that it had been well over an hour since I'd come back upstairs, and still no sign of Mikhail. I was concerned, as it was very unlike him to stand me up, let alone without sending word, so I decided to walk over and see if he was at home.

I arrived at his host's house and knocked on the door. A tall, skinny, dark-haired man opened the door to me. "Yes?" he asked, looking me over as if trying to decide what I was selling.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Mikhail. I'm Alice, a friend of his. Is he home?"

"Ah, yes, I've heard about you. I'm Erik. No idea if he's in or not, but you can go take a look if you want. His room's at the top of the stairs."

I thanked him and went upstairs. I tapped on Mikhail's door and got no answer, so I knocked again a little louder. I heard a groan, and a muffled voice said "Erik, just go away and leave me alone."

I opened the door and peered into the dimly lit room. "Mikhail?" I asked, uncertainly.

"Alice? Is that you? What are you doing here so early?" came a voice from the mound of bedding in the middle of his bed. There was no visible sign of him—just his voice.

"It's hardly early—it's nearly eleven. Are you... are you okay?"

"No, I am not okay. You told me I might be sore today. You didn't warn me that I might die!"

"What?" I exclaimed, hurrying over. "Mikhail, whatever is wrong?" I pulled the blankets down and found him laying there on his stomach, still in his boxers.

"I can't move, that's what's wrong. I mean it, I'm so sore I can't even roll over, let alone stand up. Don't laugh, it's not funny!" he added in exasperation as I stifled a giggle.

"I'm sorry, Mikhail, and you're right—it's not funny, at least, not when you're feeling it. Believe me, I've been there before myself, even if it was a long time ago. Did you stretch out and take a hot bath, like I told you?" He shook his head, or tried to, and moaned. I sighed, saying, "Well, I guess you learned your lesson. Here, I know just what to do. I'll be right back—don't move!"

"Very funny," he grumbled as I ran out the door, again trying not to laugh.

I found Erik downstairs and persuaded him to give me the things I needed: a tube of lotion, two towels, some aspirin, and something to eat and drink. I warned him that he might hear some loud noises coming from Mikhail's room and not to worry about it—at which he glanced at the things in my arms and gave me a very peculiar look—then I dashed back upstairs.

"Okay, this probably will hurt a little at first, but try to hang in there—I really do know what I'm doing. I'll need to deep massage your muscles, and that includes your backside—just to warn you." While he mumbled some unintelligible exclamations into his pillow, I straddled his back, facing towards his feet, and began to work the muscles along the backs of his legs, starting at his rear end and working slowly down to his ankles. After I'd massaged his legs for a while, I turned around and straddled his thighs to work the muscles of his back, shoulders, and neck. When I was finished, I helped him to roll over—he was moving a little more easily, but not much—and straddled his stomach to work the fronts of his legs. When I'd finished his legs, I once again turned around and straddled his thighs to work on his abdominal muscles, his chest, and his shoulders.

As I sprawled across him, I suddenly noticed something moving beneath me, startling me. I jumped, then turned bright red as I realized the cause. "Mikhail!" I exclaimed reprovingly, pausing to glare at him.

"Sorry, I can't help it! That's just about the only part of me that can move right now. And if I didn't hurt so bloody much, this would be pretty, ah, stimulating, you know," he said through gritted teeth as I returned to working on his shoulders.

"Well... I'll let it go this time, if only because I feel sorry for you." I finished massaging his front, then I climbed down and stood up. Next, I helped him stretch, which elicited a few more exclamations as I moved his legs to stretch them out. Then I sat him up on the edge of the bed, massaged his arms, and helped him to stretch them. By the time I was done, I'd been massaging and stretching his muscles for a couple of hours—but at least he was able to move, albeit somewhat stiffly still. I went down the hall and drew a very hot bath, then pushed into the bathroom and told him to soak until the water cooled, and to shout if he got stuck and needed help. Then I went back to his room and flopped down tiredly on his bed to rest while he bathed, my arms aching from the exertion.

Half an hour or so later, he returned. He still moved a little stiffly, but at least he was moving. I stepped out into the hall to wait while he dressed, then waited while he ate the sandwich I'd brought up and swallowed the aspirin.

"Thanks for your help, Alice. I'm feeling much better now. I'm sorry to have troubled you—I should have taken your advice. It's just that I didn't really feel too bad last night, so...."

"How long has it been, anyway, since you last rode a horse?"

"Hmmm... maybe five or six years?" he replied, a little sheepishly.

My jaw dropped in astonishment. "Six... years? Oh, for the Harvest Goddess's sake, Mikhail—you rode for over five hours yesterday! No wonder you couldn't move this morning! If I'd known... I should have checked with you. I was just so thrilled, I didn't stop to think. I'm so sorry for putting you through that."

He took my hand and pulled me onto his lap to give me a kiss. "Don't worry about it. It was worth it to see the delight on your face. Besides, I think that massage more than made up for any discomfort," he said with a mischievous grin, laughing and ducking away as I attempted to thump his arm.

"Well, you're obviously feeling better," I said, pretending to be in a huff. "So I'll be on my way, before you think of another excuse to get me to crawl all over your semi-naked body with a tube of lotion."

Still laughing, he grabbed my hand as I stood up. "Okay, okay. I'll behave. I promise."

"Well, then, we still have a few hours before your music klatsch. What do you want to do?"

"Well, probably not ride horses," he said, wincing as he rotated his shoulder. "I hope I can still play tonight."

"As long as you don't just sit around and stiffen up all over again, I'm sure you'll be fine. I have some shopping to do—why don't you come with me? It might not be scintillating entertainment, but it will at least keep you moving."

"Hmm. I'm not much of a shopper. But if it's with you.... I guess it won't kill me."

"Good to know that you don't hate spending time with me too much," I said drily.

I had a few more people that I had yet to find suitable souvenirs for, despite searching through every shop in town—or so I thought. But Mikhail knew of a few places that I hadn't yet discovered, and so with his help, I finally finished the last of my shopping just in time for dinner. We dropped off my packages and picked up my violin, then stopped by Erik's house to leave my instrument there. Erik looked frazzled, trying to get ready, so we decided to go pick up some Chinese take-out and bring it back to share with him. Afterwards, we helped him get ready for the evening. Mikhail hadn't seen me engaged in any serious housework before, and both men were amazed by my efficiency and thoroughness. In no time at all, the house was tidy and clean, snacks and drinks were arranged on the table and sideboard in his dining room, and chairs and music stands were set up in his living room.

Mikhail and I fetched our instruments, picked a pair of seats, and began to tune our violins. While we were doing that, Erik retrieved his oboe, and soon afterwards people began to arrive. All in all, about fifteen more people showed up, some of whom I recognized from Stuart's wedding. Stuart and Elena showed up, too, having only just returned from their honeymoon. Mikhail introduced me around, and after some cheerful commotion and lively banter, everyone settled down and prepared to play.

There was quite a variety represented, including a one person who had several instruments. Besides our violins, Erik's oboe, Stuart's cello, and Elena's viola, there was a flute, a pair of clarinets, a recorder, a mandolin, a double bass, a set of pan pipes, an ocarina, a lap harp, a French horn, two saxophones, a tabla drum, a zither, a sitar, and two vocalists.

As the host, Erik had selected and provided the evening's music. Mikhail and I shared a stand, since we were playing the same parts anyway. As we glanced over the first selection, Mikhail marked our parts. One of the vocalists, a tenor named Kosta, also acted as conductor, and after a few more minutes, he gave the signal and we began to play.

We played well into the night, pausing every so often to stretch our legs and discuss the music as well as to grab refreshments. I was nervous at first—shy about playing in front of so many strangers, but everyone was very friendly and a few even complimented my performance. Soon I relaxed and begun to thoroughly enjoy myself.

Mikhail laughed when he left for a few minutes at one point to get us some coffee and start another pot brewing, and upon his return, he found me deep in discussion with Erik, Kosta, Praveen the multi-instrumentalist, Rémy the bassist, Franz the mandolinist, and Duncan, one of the sax players, comparing the relative merits of Bach, Vivaldi, and Debussy. I looked up at him, startled by his laughter, and he grinned at me as he handed me a cup of coffee, "I step away for five minutes, and when I return, I find you already holding court. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, and it seems my friends approve of you—but then, how could they not?"

It was well past midnight when we finally began to leave for our various homes, and by then, I was exhausted. Mikhail saw me home, then came up for a nightcap before returning to his room. As I handed him a brandy and sat down on the loveseat next to him, I looked over at him and said, "Well... this is it. Tomorrow's my last day here. Thursday morning, bright and early, I go home."

Mikhail drew his brows together. "So soon... time has just flown by these past two weeks. I hope you'll allow me to spend your last day with you?"

"I was hoping you would," I smiled at him. "Are you still planning to go back to Konohana?"

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away. But I won't be able to leave until next week. There's a luthier's conference this weekend, and I've been engaged to perform Friday evening as well as asked to be on a panel of judges for a competition Sunday morning. I plan to leave next Monday, but I had already arranged to spend a day or two visiting a friend who lives along the way. He'll bring me the rest of the way late Monday night or Tuesday morning."

I nodded as I sipped my coffee. "Then... it'll be nearly a week before I see you."

"I'm afraid so. I'd cancel if I could, but to do so on such short notice would leave them in a bind."

"No, no—it's fine. It'll just feel a little odd, we've spent so much time together the past several days."

"Yes, we've been fairly inseparable," he replied with a smile, reaching to give my hand a squeeze before putting his arm around my shoulders.

When we'd finished our brandies, I saw him to the front door. I kissed him, slowly, then he said, "I'll be over early tomorrow, so that we may spend as much time together as possible before you leave." He kissed me again, then held my face in his hands and gazed into my eyes as if searching for something. Then another quick kiss, and he was gone.