Delia was a young pianist with long slender, slender fingers and blonde hair-and a kind , generous nature. Her husband , Joe , was a promising young painter – broad-shouldered , with bushy eyebrows and a wide smile – and an honest, hardworking young man. They lived together in a small apartment in New York.
Each of them was taking lessons: Joe with a famous art teachers , and Delia with a great pianist from Germany. Their teachers were the very best , so lessons were expensive , more than they could really afford , but… when you love your art , nothing’s too much.
But soon, the money began to run out, and they couldn’t afford the lessons anymore.
Then one day Delia came home and told Joe that she had met a man. The man’s daughter , sally, wanted to learn the piano , and he was going to pay Delia $50 an hour.
“Delia,” Joe said, “I’d be much happier if you kept up your lessons.” Delia said that it didn’t matter. She said : “When I’ve earned some money, I’II start again. When you love your art, nothing’s too much.” But Joe decided that he was also going to stop his lessons, to paint pictures and try to sell them.
A few days later, Joe came home and proudly took $200 from his pocket. Delia laughed and asked him where he’d gotten it from.”I met a man from Vermont,” he said, “who bought one of my paintings. And he wants to buy more! ”
So the two of them were happy for awhile. They didn’t have to worry anymore about finding the money to buy food and pay the bills. They missed their lessons, but that didn’t seem to matter.
Then, one day, Joe came home and saw that Delia’s hand was wrapped in a bandage. He asked her what had happened and if she was all right. “Oh, said Delia. “My student, sally, asked me to make some coffee and burned my hand. Sally went straight to the drugstore and got this bandage for me.”
Joe sat down and told Delia to sit down, too. “Delia, what have you been doing the last two weeks?” he asked. She tried not to tell him, but then the tears began. “Oh Joe, I couldn’t get any students, so I got a job as a waitress in a diner. And today, I burned my hand with hot water. So I can,t work anymore. I’m sorry, Joe , but we’ll still have money from the man in Vermont, won’t we?”
Joe looked at her. “There’s no man in Vermont, ” he said. “I haven’t sold any paintings. I’ve been working in a drugstore, and today someone came from the diner to buy bandages for a women who’d burned her hand. So when I saw you, well, I guessed. ”
They both laughed. “So we’ve told each told each other lies, ” said Joe. “But when you love your art…”
Delia put her fingers to his lips. “No , Joe , ” she said. “Just ‘ When you love…’ ”