Duet (Readdie Family Book 1)

by Lizzie Lawson

  Monica: Mr. Larson, I have to step down as choir pianist. I have a history with Lillian that’s about to come back to haunt me. I’m sure she’ll do fine in my spot.

  Less than a minute later, her phone alerted her to his reply.

  Mr. Larson: Let me guess…if I name Lillian pianist, her parents will fund the music program for decades?

  Monica stopped dead in her tracks when she read the message. How did he know what she was thinking?

  Monica: Something like that.

  Mr. Larson: I see. Well, I’m not going to allow you to step down. There are some things you need to know. Even though I know who Lillian is and her past, you’re still the one I want sitting on that bench. You’ve proven yourself well beyond any of my expectations in the last three years.

  Mr. Larson: Would you like to talk it over before making up your mind?

  Monica: Sure.

  Mr. Larson: Thanks, Monica!

  Monica buried her head in her pillow again. She tried putting her phone on the nightstand but missed the target. The phone fell to the floor with a muffled thud. Her mood dropped when Mr. Larson said he knew Lillian already. If that were the case, why did he keep her as the pianist? Surely he knew what was coming if he did.

  Her phone alerted her to an incoming text, but she ignored it. All she could do was think back on her rivalry with Lillian at all those recitals. She knew it drove her parents crazy that she could beat her regularly despite her being a product of “public education.” Lillian had tutors, and a private piano teacher, all of whom she was sure were well paid. But to be fair, Lillian was able to beat her as well. The two seemed evenly matched. But she had one nagging question after the last recital they competed in together. What happened to her that made her stop showing up at recitals?

  The doorbell brought another round of barking from the dog. She heard her mom greet someone and invite them inside. A moment later, footsteps came up the stairs, and a soft knock resonated from her door.

  “Yeah,” she called out.

  The door opened, and Debra stepped inside. “Monica, Mr. Larson is here to talk, honey. He said you’re thinking about stepping down as the choir pianist? Is everything okay?”

  She wanted to scream but settled for a sigh instead. Her head turned so she could answer back. “I don’t know. Lillian is back to haunt me.”

  “Lillian?” Debra clarified, sounding like she didn’t hear her right. “That spoiled rich kid that had to cheat to beat you?”

  Monica nodded. “She’s in Norwalk now, and she tried out for pianist. Mr. Larsen wants us to work together on a piece for the end of the year, but now her parents will be involved and they’ll just throw money at the program to get me booted.”

  Debra put a hand on Monica’s shoulder. “There are a few things you don’t know, sweetie. Come with me, and we’ll all talk to him. Besides, we may need an extra body to help us block Kendra’s feet when she hears what’s going on.”

  Monica threw her head back and laughed. “Do you honestly think she’d do that?”

  “No,” Debra answered. “She’s too sweet. Her bark is worse than her bite.”

  She smiled and nodded. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  Debra went back downstairs while she got out of bed. Monica went over to the mirror and took a few deep breaths to bring herself back under control. Tears destroyed her makeup, so she just wiped it all off instead of trying to fix it. It took a couple of minutes before she was fully calmed down, but she was ready to talk and get it over with. She went back downstairs to the kitchen, finding her parents and Mr. Larson waiting for her.

  “Hey, Monica,” Evelyn said, pushing a chair out from the table with her legs. “Come join us.”

  She sat down, ready to listen, and talked about her future with the high school choir. But just in case, she was on the lookout for Kendra’s feet.

  Lillian parked her car and went straight for her piano. She placed the sheet music for her duet with Monica on the stand and spread out the sheets for arrangement B. While she looked through them, she realized that Monica had a point with arrangement A. They needed a backup plan. Lillian knew she struggled with A enough as it was. She hadn’t been back to playing long when they moved to town and knew there was a lot of rust to work out.

  Her phone went off, telling her a text came in. She saw it was from Monica and she dropped everything to read it.

  Monica: Don’t bother telling your parents. I’ll tell Mr. Larson that I’m stepping down, so you’ll get the pianist spot you and your parents want you to have.

  Lillian’s eyes closed and she stifled a cry before typing back her reply.

  Lillian: Monica, I’m not after your spot. My parents are dead, so they won’t be interfering.

  An extended sigh escaped her lips as she realized what she did at school. She let her competitive side get in the way. She showed a part of herself she’d worked hard to suppress. She cost herself a friend. Disgusted by her actions, Lillian got up and went to the hallway, where Judy hung her family pictures. She smiled at the ones of the two of them at different places, both happy as could be. But then she found one of her parents. Her smile turned into a disgusted snarl.

  “When is it going to be enough, huh?” she yelled, anger erupting from the depths of her soul. “You’ve both been in hell for six years, and you’re still making my life miserable! I don’t care if you hate me for abandoning the piano! You’re the ones that forced it on me! I don’t care if you don’t like that I’m a lesbian and think that Monica is pretty attractive! I don’t care if you’re mad at me for taking my life back for myself when DHS put me with Aunt Judy. You two lied about her! She’s a wonderful woman and more of a parent to me than you two ever were! I’m finally happy, getting more confidence, and learning how to be a much better person. And to top it all off, I’m doing all of it without you! I don’t want the two of you in my life anymore! Leave me alone, you despicable scuzzballs!”

  Lillian’s right fist launched toward the bare wall next to the photo but missed its intended mark. Her hand went right through the glass frame, tearing through the photo of her parents before going through the drywall behind it. Her eyes stared at the picture’s remains showing a fury she hadn’t shown in years. She heard the front door open and close as she pulled her fist back and looked at the cut skin and blood streaking down. Lillian had to admit it felt good to destroy that picture. She didn’t ever want to see a reminder of where she came from again.

  “Lillian?” Judy called out in a concerned tone. She found her in the hallway and rushed over to her. “Lillian! Are you okay?”

  Lillian felt Judy’s arms around her and broke down. “No,” she whispered. “I need my counselor again.”

  “I’ll call in the morning, okay?” Judy retrieved a towel from the closet and wrapped it around her hand. “There you go, sweetie. Let’s get you to the ER.”

  She felt Judy’s arms again. This time she wailed into her aunt’s shoulder. Judy held her tight and rubbed her back. Her cries subsided after a couple of minutes, but that lump in her throat threatened to pop the cork and let more of it out.

  Lillian looked at the wall and sighed. “I’m sorry for redecorating the wall.”

  Judy looked at the wall and the destroyed picture on the floor. “We’ll worry about that later, Lil. Besides, it’s a picture of your parents, and honestly, I think it looks better.”

  Both of them laughed while Judy held her hand. “Let’s get going.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Schaumburg, IL—December 25, 2014

  Monica awoke to the most familiar scent she’d ever known. She slid out of bed, careful not to wake Kendra, and tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen. The aroma of her grandmother’s cinnamon rolls combined with her mom’s world-famous breakfast of pancakes, bacon, sausage, and hash browns put her in a trance. Wave after wave of primordial hunger covered her like a blanket. She had no control of her body when she plopped herself down at the table and nearly began drooling.r />
  “Hey, sweetie,” Evelyn said, her eyes sparkling to match her smile. “Merry Christmas!”

  The chipper greeting brought Monica back to her senses, and she quickly inhaled through her mouth so she didn’t look like Pavlov’s dog.

  “Merry Christmas! Do you need help with anything?”

  Evelyn set a platter of bacon on the table. “I don’t think so. I’m almost all set.”

  Looking at her mom from top to bottom, Monica couldn’t help but be amazed at her. Four years earlier, she was ready to file for divorce and become a single mom. She was heading home in a rage to do that when she got caught up in a pileup on I-55. The crash nearly ended her life.

  Despite the gloomy prognosis, the doctor and Debra never gave up on her, encouraging her to fight. Evelyn did just that. After six days in a coma, she woke up. Both she and Debra ironed out their differences and fell in love all over again. This time, it was stronger than before. For that matter, the love between her parents was stronger now than the day Evelyn woke up.

  Evelyn made a miraculous recovery. Doctors said she’d need a walker for the rest of her life, but that just pushed her to work harder. After 18 months, she relearned how to walk upright and no longer needed her walking aid. The blue and purple bruises that riddled her skin vanished. Scars were now barely visible, except for the few on her head. Evelyn’s blonde hair never grew back, but the army of wigs she had ensured she’d have a hairstyle for almost every occasion.

  Monica watched Evelyn pivot in front of the stove, giving her a glance at the tattoo on her left ankle. It showed a woman with her arms held high looking at the clouds as a beam of light enveloped her. A speech bubble dropped from the clouds with the words, “You’re not done yet.” Below all of that was the date 12-19-10, the date of the accident.

  Just like every other time when she stopped to consider the tattoo, Monica shivered from head to toe. There was so much power in that simple drawing. They weren’t a religious family by any stretch of the mind, but that week had them praying several times per day. It was the best holiday miracle when Evelyn woke up on Christmas morning, better than anything Hallmark could write into a movie.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Evelyn said as she placed another platter of bacon on the table. “That isn’t like you on Christmas morning. What’s on your mind?”

  Monica giggled as she stood up and embraced her mom, letting her pride show through with her arms and tears. “I was thinking about you and how lucky we are that you’re still here.”

  Evelyn cradled Monica’s head into her shoulder and held her tight. “I feel lucky every day, honey.”

  “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you too, sweetheart. I could use some help getting all this out on the table.”

  “You got it,” Monica said with a smile.

  Debra and Kendra shuffled into the room and perked up immediately. They helped get the table set while Evelyn finished cooking.

  Five minutes later, the entire family sat at the table and began to eat.

  Monica sat on her bed, staring out the window into her grandparents’ back yard. She’d been oddly quiet since lunch, and her sisters made it a point to try to get her to talk. Neither was successful, and neither were her parents. Her mind labored to process why she was even thinking about the reason her mind went into analysis mode. She had no answers—only confusion.

  For reasons she couldn’t begin to fathom, Monica missed Lillian. It made no sense. This was the same girl she had a rivalry with six years ago. Her parents paid off judges to make sure Lillian won and she never even placed. Hearing the news about the Barringtons surprised her. On one hand, those two wealthy snobs deserved to have that tornado kill them; they were stupid enough to drive into it in the first place. On the other, nobody deserved that kind of death.

  But why in the world did she miss Lillian? Perhaps she enjoyed yelling at her more than she thought. Maybe she was blowing off the steam that she had bottled up when they learned what happened at that recital. But that implied that she had a grudge against Lillian. Did she have one? Aside from being crowned the winner, the girl had nothing to do with the scandal. Was she prejudiced against Lillian and lashed out at her because of her parents?

  Ugh! So many questions ran through her mind. The answers, however, evaded her.

  “Hey, Prison Girl,” Tricia said from the doorway. “What’s on your mind?”

  Monica giggled even though she shook her head in disbelief. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

  “Nope!” The bed shifted as Tricia sat beside her. “So what’s up?”

  Buying time with a sigh, Monica debated on whether or not to get into that topic with her sister. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

  “I already think you’re crazy.”

  Monica shot her a dark look. Her right hand shot over and grabbed Tricia’s right side. She laughed when Tricia reacted by squealing and moving herself away.

  “Okay, okay,” Tricia said, her hands up in a sign of detente. “What’s up?”

  “I have no idea why, but I miss Lillian.” Monica glanced over, expecting some rebuke from her sister.

  Tricia gave her a curious stare instead. “Wait, you miss the girl who cheated to beat you at a recital?”

  “She didn’t cheat. It was her parents. And yes, you heard me right. I miss her.”

  “Well, I didn’t expect to hear that one. What do you miss about her?”

  “I was starting to see her as a different person. I mean, I’m not the same person I was six years ago. Lillian lost her parents to the tornado that hit Parkersburg and she’s living with her aunt now. She may look like that girl now, but from watching her interact with Erica and Chloe, it’s like I’m watching a much happier person.”

  Tricia nodded and looked thoughtful. “Why did you stop talking to her?”

  Monica huffed and shook her head. “I was stupid. We’re supposed to work together on a piece for choir and we got into an argument. I caught a glimpse of her old self and just said I was done. Heck, I even texted Mr. Larson and said that I was resigning as the choir pianist.”

  Tricia’s look bordered on murderous. “You’d better still be the choir pianist, Monica. You’ve worked too hard for it to just hand it over to Lillian on a silver platter.”

  Monica put her hand up. “Relax, I decided against it. I’m still on the bench.”

  With a sigh of relief, Tricia folded her arms in front of her. “So how long ago was this?”

  “About two months ago,” Monica said.

  “So what’s been stopping you from talking to her? I’ve never known you to hold a grudge, and it seems out-of-character for you to start now.”

  A set of shoulders shrugged in response. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m having a hard time accepting she changed.”

  Tricia put a hand on Monica’s shoulder. “Monica, I can’t believe I’m about to say this about Lillian, but what if she has changed? Losing both parents at the same time had to be a huge shock for her. I mean, do you honestly believe her aunt wouldn’t be able to make some kind of impact on her life and personality?”

  “It’s possible, I guess,” Monica said. “I suppose the only way I’ll know is if I start talking to her again.”

  Tricia gave her a hug. “Why not start now? Even if it’s just a simple text saying ‘Merry Christmas’ or something like that.”

  It was Monica’s turn to nod. “Yeah, I suppose it’s long overdue.”

  Tricia’s lips curled into a warm smile, and she patted Monica’s leg. Without another word, she got up and left the room.

  Monica took a few moments to look at her phone, wondering what to say. For that matter, she also wondered if Lillian would even read it. She’d been horrible to her that afternoon. She let her emotions take control. What could she say after two months? Why did she even snap like that? Did the events of that recital six years ago still hurt?

  With more questions flooding her mind, Monica sighed
, put her phone on the nightstand, and left the bedroom.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Two days later, Monica strolled down the upstairs hallway past her grandparents’ bedroom. She planned on taking a nap since she was still tired from their family game night and staying up well past midnight. A soft cry got her attention, and she paused to investigate. She tracked it to the corner bedroom, the one she shared with Kendra.

  She peeked around the door and found her lying on her bed, curled into a ball. It was just like the first day of school when she found her after they got home. Kendra didn’t want to talk then. Today, Monica wouldn’t let her shrug everything away. There was something on Kendra’s mind, and she was determined to help.

  “Hey,” she said, slowly entering the room. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Kendra said, just like before. “I’m fine.”

  “Nope,” Monica said, sitting on the bed next to her. “I let you get away with that in August. That won’t fly with me today. Something is bothering you, Kendra. I want to help.”

  Another sigh escaped Kendra’s lips. She rolled over and dried out her eyes. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “Okay, I’ll stay here.”

  Kendra sat up and looked at the floor. “That’s not what I mean. I don’t want you to do what Tricia did.”

  Monica’s brows went up in curiosity. “What did Tricia do?”

  “She left,” Kendra said, wiping away another tear. “She went off to college and just doesn’t talk to us or come back. My birth family treated me like I had leprosy or something when I came out to them. They didn’t want to be seen with me. I’m afraid of what will happen when my sisters leave for college. I already had one set of brothers and sisters abandon me. I don’t want you and Tricia doing it too.”