She laughed, looking down at the floor. She heard a rumble from his chest that could have been a laugh. “But I don’t… you know”—she gestured—“have an entire room full of girlfriends.” He stuttered a laugh, and she turned to look at him. His face was younger when he laughed. He carried the electric cello—“Ruby”—to the center of the room, bringing a chair over. “Room full of girlfriends,” he muttered, smiling. He looked up and pointed at the violin. “That one’s Victor.”
