Flint tipped his fedora forward on his head with the barest of smiles on his impassive face. He leaned back to catch her eyes briefly as he nodded his understanding at her words and then his gaze was hidden beneath the brim of his hat as he settled himself at the piano, leaning forward slightly and gently placing his fingers on the keys.
The sound that bubbled forth was instantly recognizable as a staple of the late 1920's: Hoagy Carmichael's 'Stardust.' Better performers than Flint had played and sung this sedate, beautiful tune but he poured his heart into the piano. Love wasn't for a guy like him but he understood loneliness, all right, and the song surely touched on that. He waited to hear if Lily would pick up the tune and sing. If she faltered, he'd join in. Social anxiety be damned.