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Music had always dwelled in my soul. Always played in my head. I heard photographers could drive by a place or visit a place and they could imagine the scenes they could create with a click of their camera. They could imagine their subjects down to their clothing and poses. I heard music. I felt music. I could hear normal everyday sounds or see a scene of everyday life unfold before me, and I had a soundtrack play through my head.
I knew I needed this release, and I believed with little concentration my piece could be completed by lunch time. Then I could spend the weekend perfecting it and be ready to perform it on Monday.
After the girls left to get dressed for the pool, I ran upstairs to get my notebook and sheet music. I saw the flash of my phone on the nightstand, indicating I had some notifications, but I chose to leave it there. I needed no distractions. I couldn’t remember the last time I was able to play without people around. The last time I did was probably when my father had still been alive, and I practiced for a few hours after school and after my homework was completed.
I grabbed a bottle of water before heading back into the music room. This room felt like home to me. The whole room shouted coziness with a fireplace to the far right. One wall had several different acoustic and electric guitars displayed for use. Next to it was a few violins. There was harp and cello to the left. A brown leather couch was on the wall with the door. An old record player and modern stereo hooked up to several strategic speakers throughout the room. Two built-in bookcases held sheet music, cd’s, and albums. But my eyes were immediately drawn to the piano.
The piano was situated by a wall of windows overlooking a lake with mountains in the background. The trees outside had been touched by God’s paintbrush and the autumn foliage was in full bloom. Beautiful scarlet reds, burnt oranges, terracotta, marigolds, copper, and several other fall colors were spread out before me. We had arrived when it was dark, so I never saw the beauty that surrounded me. We were no longer in the city, and I loved it.
With a satisfied sigh, I did a few warm ups on the piano, noticing a slight weakness in my fingers. I hadn’t exercised my fingers as much as I used to, lately. It frustrated me, but I knew I would be back in performing shape come Monday. Even though I was petite, my fingers were long. My dad…uncle use to say music was in our blood. Musicians ran in our family. He said my mother had been a great pianist. Not for the first time, I wondered what made her become that shell of a woman I had seen in Horatio’s vision.
I let the music flow through me as I allowed myself to think about my uncle and my mom. I realized now every time my uncle talked to me about my mom, he had been talking about his sister and not the mother of his child. The love and affection that I use to see in his eyes and sad smiles were for his sister. One glaring question was left. Who was my father? My real father.
With Will’s connections maybe one day he could find someone who knew my story. Maybe he could find my real birth certificate. Maybe my real father was listed on it. Somehow, I think my past could solve a lot of issues for my future, but I didn’t have the strength to follow that trail yet. I had so much on my plate right now. I needed to prioritize everything and that was near the bottom of my list.
As I neared the part where I normally left off on my piece, I continued my story. The story continued with fear, despair, and finally hope. After nearly an hour I was satisfied with my song. I even had a small smile on my lips as I finished writing the notes on my sheets.
I stood up and stretched. Realizing two hours had passed since I first sat down. I took a long drink from my unopened bottle of water then decided to sit back down and continue practicing the final piece.
The song was literally a piece of my soul. The beginning was sweet, innocent. It conveyed the feeling of security and love my father had always shown me. It conveyed the pure happiness that only children could feel, unburdened by the world’s ugliness. It progressed to a feeling of deep sadness and loneliness. This reflected the feelings that I felt when I lost my first love, my dad. The music carried you to a place where I felt alone in the world, unwanted. The feelings I felt with Heidi when she gained custody of me. The music evolved into a feeling of anticipation, and then pure joy when I found out about Ella and the moment I laid eyes on her and saw my father looking back at me. The melody took a dark turn at this point. My fear, the shame, the despair, the guilt. The first time I had been molested. The fear of it happening again. The shame I felt thinking, somehow, I had caused it. The guilt I felt when I started questioning the way I dressed, the way I carried myself, wondering if I had smiled too much at my attacker. Had I enticed them? Had I deserved it? It was followed by the despair that no one cared. I was a nobody. The accusations from Heidi when I thought she would save me. The memories of being taken from my home and thinking I finally would be saved after confiding in a teacher. Only I found the system was broken, and I was returned to Heidi and was molested once more. There was anger as I remembered her drug use, her negligence with Ella, crushing a soul that should have been nurtured. The anger I felt when she brought another would be rapist in my life. The song transported you to a sense hope. The sensation of the first seed planted in the spring. Watching it as it began to grow. Realizing you were no longer alone. There was a reassurance of better things to come. This was the part of the song where I met Jace over a year ago. He looked at me. He didn’t see the loner girl that dressed in baggy clothes hoping not to be seen. He had seen me. He saw through the barriers I had erected and encouraged me to return to my love, the piano. Through him, I
was finally free of the bonds Heidi had shackled me in. Ella and I were full, clothed, and cared for. I even had my first real kiss, and I liked it. I finally understood the importance of my connections. I could see how I was part of a destiny unknown to me. I completed the song with the empowerment I felt, the optimism I felt. I had already weathered the storm and I came out stronger. I knew I had the strength within to face anything else thrown my way.
When the last note rang out, I felt a mixture of emotions. I slumped on the bench, letting the cleansing tears flow. I prided myself on my ability to make myself feel numb. I felt like I could turn off my feelings at will before they had the capability to debilitate me. I felt raw, stripped bare.
I never heard the footsteps that came behind me. I just felt the strong arms that embraced me and carried me to the couch. Cradling me in his strong arms. His scent was more elusive to me. It reminded me of the woods. Earthy. I knew the massive arms that embraced me. I could determine by how tiny I felt cradled in his arms, it was Remy.
By the time my tears subsided, I felt slightly embarrassed. I realized his shirt was soaked from my tears. I took a deep, cleansing breath.
“I’m sorry about your shirt,” I said in a small voice.
He showed a gentleness that was surprising for his size as he pulled my hair back off my face and continued to stroke my hair. I shuddered at the feeling it evoked. “I have other ones,” he said gruffly. “You weren’t answering your phone,” he said accusingly.
I hid my face in the side of his neck. “I didn’t want to talk to anyone. This is all a bit overwhelming.” I sat back and looked into his blue gray eyes. “I don’t want to fail. I don’t want to do anything wrong.”
He wiped the wetness from my face with his rough, calloused hands. It didn’t hurt. It was reassuring. “I don’t think that’s possible. You won’t let us down, regardless of your decisions. I can feel your acceptance. It’s a step in the right direction.”
I sighed and laid back down on his chest. “Are you still mad at me?”
He made a sound of surprise. “I was never mad at you. What made you think that?”
“The day I was almost raped,” I explained softly. “You wouldn’t look at me, you wouldn’t talk to me. You didn’t talk to anyone.”
He sighed as he ran his hands up and down my bare arms. “You and I are not so different. We both haven’t had it easy, by any means. I’m sorry if you felt like I was angry at you or if I was shutting you out. That day brought back…a lot of bad memories. I was angry, but it wasn’t at you.”
I knew he had said all that he would say to me. I knew he still struggled with the demons within, and I wasn’t going to push him any further. When or if he were ready to talk, I would listen. I reached up and stroked the back of his neck. “We’re okay now,” is all I could think to say at that moment.
I felt a little tension leave his body.
After I pulled myself together, I noticed the exhaustion on his face. He reluctantly admitted that he drove all night long to make sure I was okay. The guys had been evasive this morning, and I hadn’t been answering his calls. I felt so guilty and told him he should go to sleep. He compromised with me by agreeing to rest on the couch. He told me my playing was relaxing, so I played him some soothing music until he fell asleep. I grabbed a blanket and covered him with it after I knew he was asleep. While I was upstairs, I retrieved my phone and brought it back downstairs.
I had missed a lot of calls and messages from the guys, and I felt guilty once more. Poor Remy had been dead on his feet because of his concern.
I sent out a group message to them.
Me: I’m sorry for my behavior. I didn’t mean to worry you guys. This is all new to me. Please be patient…
I knew I owed someone a little extra. So, I set my phone up on the window sill, pointed it at the keys of the piano and my hands, and set a timer on the phone, so I could have time to sit back down.
