In a split second, Rob had his arm around him, telling him. "It's gone already. See it?"
Danny had his head down, hiding under his yellow cap. Cautiously he lifted his head up and watched the old truck disappear down the road. Lenny was climbing up to lean on Danny with his front paws.
"I'm OK, Lenny," Danny whispered to the little dog, but his voice sounded kind of shaky so Rob stayed with his arm around him.
The Hayes boys were looking on with concern, then DJ told Danny. "That was Mr. Miller's truck."
"It scared me," Danny admitted.
"It scared Brownie too," Riley said and pointed to the little brown dog sticking close by his side.
Hearing that, Danny said, "You too. Brownie?" Then he got down to give the little brown dog a consoling hug.
On the way back to the house, Rob held Danny's hand the whole way though he seemed OK now. As they neared the front steps, Danny looked up and told him, "Rob, I don't want to be scared of cars any more."
"You're not as scared as you used to be. Soon you won't be scared at all," Rob told him and Danny nodded.
Danny was in bed when Rob finally texted Christie so he could update her about his job. He beat about the bush a little, and she jumped in to ask him when he was coming back.
Once he made her slow down and gave her the news, she had a warning for him. "Just don't make the same mistake you made with Craig and start hooking up with your boss."
"Come on, Christie," Rob texted her instead of admitting that she hit the nail right on the head. Except with Julian, it wasn't just hooking up. It was a lot worse.
"Aha. Just be smart, OK?" Christie told him.
Too late for that. All evening and into the night, Rob had been restless. Hanging out in his room, he couldn't stop remembering last night, wondering if there would be more like it.
Finally he got out of bed and left his room. Right away, he saw that Julian's bedroom door was standing open and he wasn't in there or anywhere upstairs. Going down the stairway, Rob stopped in mid step. That sound. It was the piano, the keys being pressed lightly, barely drawing a note.
Hearing it, Rob had to close his eyes. The sound of a piano being played echoed in his heart so strongly, so painfully, he could hardly breathe. How many times had he heard his mom play or just finger the keys idly? He didn't know, but the sound of it was etched inside him so deeply, he kept hearing it even after she was gone and her piano too.
This time, it wasn't a sound he imagined through a haze of grief. Following the sound of the piano playing, Rob found Julian in the living room, sitting at the grand piano, letting the uncertain melody fade away under his fingers.
He seemed lost in thought and so alluring in the dim light, but Rob didn't go to him. He wasn't sure if he was hanging back because he didn't want to disturb Julian or because he felt too attracted to him to trust himself to go any closer. There was still the echo of his mother's piano playing too. Rob waited for the jumble of feelings to unknot inside him, but then Julian noticed him.
"I was looking for you," Rob told him as he came forward. He decided to talk about Danny until he got a better handle on himself. "I was wondering if I could take Danny on some short rides to get him used to being in the car. Start by just sitting in the car then drive him down to the gate, that kind of thing. What do you say?"
"I like the idea, but I want to check with Dr. Vallarta." Julian didn't want to wait for Danny's next appointment though. "I'll call her tomorrow and see what she says. Thank you for thinking of this," he said to Rob with a smile.
No longer able to resist going closer, Rob took a seat next to him on the piano bench. As Julian went back to running his long fingers over the keys, Rob breathed through everything he felt right then. The temptation of being so near Julian in the darkness was so strong it made him lightheaded while the sound of the piano tugged at the pain in his heart and called out memories of his mom.
"Can you play?" Rob asked. He wasn't sure from what little he heard.
"Not really. My boarding school had music classes. I learned a little piano, a little violin. Wasn't particularly good at either. When I was home, I wasn't allowed to touch the piano. I was just trying to figure out if I want to keep it. What do you think?" Julian said, his voice low.
"I..." Rob shook his head. His mind was still too confused by grief and memories and being close to Julian. He couldn't answer. "Sorry. We had an upright piano in the dining room. Hearing you play reminds me..."
"Sorry. I..." Julian said and moved to close the fallboard.
"No. The memories of my mom at the piano are good ones. When she stopped playing..." When Rob didn't finish, Julian found his hand gripping the edge of the piano bench. He covered it with his own until Rob let go and turned his hand over so their fingers could entwine.
Comforted by his touch, Rob started talking again, his voice only loud enough for Julian to hear as he sat close to him. "Hardly any schools have music classes any more, you know. After my mom lost her job as a music teacher, she taught students at home for a while, but she didn't have many. In our part of town there wasn't much demand for piano lessons. One day I came home from school and saw them loading the piano into the back of van. My mom had donated it to a nursing home. Seeing it go gave me such a low feeling. I can only imagine how my mom must have felt, giving away a part of herself. And I didn't even know then how bad an omen it was. It meant my mom had given up, lost all hope."
"I'm sorry," Julian said, gripped his hand tighter and leaned his head on Rob's shoulder.
Rob pushed himself to think further back, to the days before the piano was gone. "She used to play this piano version of 'What a Difference a Day Makes'. She didn't sing it, but I swear I could hear the words of the song being formed when her fingers hit the keys. It was so beautiful." Rob closed his eyes, caught somewhere between smiling and crying. "But when I was little, I loved anything fast and I was amazed at how her fingers danced across the keys. She taught me how to call for an encore instead of saying, 'Again, again, do it again.' And Christie and I used to say prestissimo instead of hurry up. Mom got a kick out of that."
Now Rob got such a terrible, tearing pain in his chest as he thought about her smile. He hunched forward over the piano and felt Julian's arms go around his back.
