23
GWEN
After Sebastian left, Molly offered to cover the last hour or two of my shift. So when Lizzie arrived at 3:30, she only had to wait half an hour for me to wrap things up. I packed us some sandwiches to go, and we were on our way to the ranch around 4.
Of course, we didn’t make it there until almost 5, but the drive was nice. She talked about the geography test she had taken today, her plans to spend the night at Aubrey’s after our lesson, and how much fun they would have snow tubing tomorrow afternoon. She talked most of the time, and I listened.
Once we were through the gates, we stopped at my cabin. I fed Honey her dinner, clipped on her leash, and the three of us walked to the rec center. Honey pranced through the snow off to the side of the gravel path, her tongue lolling out of her mouth.
Lizzie continued chattering about anything and everything. How fascinating it was that the pine trees didn’t lose their greenery in the winter. The bluish moonlight reflecting against the snow. How much she enjoyed walking after dark, even though it was cold, because of how quiet everything got.
Lizzie always talked a lot, but tonight, more than usual. Was it because Sebastian and I were progressing? Was I stepping into a new role for her?
At the rec center, Honey cozied up on the carpet beneath the stage. For the most part, I sat in one of the auditorium chairs next to her. But when Lizzie had a question, or needed help with nailing a particular finger placement, I hopped up beside her. My thighs sure did get a workout as I hopped on and off that stage for the next two hours. Around 7:30, Sebastian texted that he was on his way.
When I relayed that to Lizzie, she asked if I wouldn’t mind going through the songOcean Eyeswith her a couple more times. I agreed.
On the third try, she hit every note with perfection. It sounded identical to the studio recording. Then she added her flares again that, dare I say, leveled it up from the original. When she hit that last note, a smile tilted the edges of my lips.
I started a slow clap that gradually progressed. When I ended a clap or two with a, “Woo!” Lizzie laughed with blushing cheeks.
“It’salmostperfect,” she said, pushing a blonde tendril behind her ear. “I think my tempo was a little off. Like I was half a second too fast.”
“Your tempo was perfect. Every note, every cord, was perfect, Lizzie.” I propped my hands on my hips. “Keep practicing at home, but I really don’t think we have much more work to do on this one. I think you’re ready for your recital.”
“Can you help me learn something new then?” She spoke quickly, eyes wide, nervous. “I mean, I’m supposed to perform at least one song. But I can do more. Up to three, I think. And some of the classical ballads, they’re really hard. Pop is so much easier. But I want to get better. I want to get into intricate, fast-paced, expert level piano.”
“You might need an expert to teach you expert level. But we can work on whatever you want to, whenever you want to.”
Her shoulders softened. “Cool. I’ll brainstorm the next song I want to learn.”
“And I’ll find the sheet music once you do.”
“Awesome.” A big smile, followed by a tilt of her head. “But why did you say it like that?”
“Say what like what?”
“Something about how you’re not an expert. That’s crazy. You play better than any of my teachers ever have.”
Doubtful. I played music sheliked. “It wasn’t meant to be self-deprecating. Just a fact. I’ve never been really into classical music. That’s not my area of expertise.”
“Maybe not classical music, but you can play any sheet music that’s in front of you,” she said.
“I guess. But that’s generally how it goes for most experienced pianists. Even you. You’ve been practicing this song for a couple weeks, and you’re flawless at it now. We can add our own artistic flares, but if we know the basics, we can all play just about anything. That doesn’t make me an expert.”
“Fine, fine.” She waved me off. “But youarereally good. There’s something about the way you play. It’s like you’ve been doing it since you were in the womb.”
“Hardly.” Laughing, I shook my head. “My mom couldn’t hold a tune if her life depended on it.”
“She didn’t teach you how to play?”
“Nope. Couldn’t play any instruments. Could barely hum a melody.” Honey’s gaze met mine from the floor, so I squatted to scratch her ears. “She loved music though.”
“So did my mom.” Lizzie tossed one of her legs over the bench so she could face me better. “That’s what everyone tells me, anyway. When I was little, I used to fall asleep to videos of her playing. That’s why I wanted to learn.”
My eyes burned, but I didn’t let any tears gather. “That’s the most beautiful thing about music. It has a way of bringing people together.”
“That’s how I see it. Every time I play, it makes me think of her. I don’t remember her, but I think she’d have liked to see me on stage.”
