Melodic Dreams

by Walters, Janet Lane;

  “Yes.” Jamie pumped his fist in the air. He grabbed the chair and pushed, nearly crashing Maria into the door frame.

  “Whoa, son, don’t be in such a rush.” Jay realized what he’d said and wondered if Maria had noticed. He grasped the handles and carefully maneuvered her from the kitchen down the hall to the suite that had once been a ballroom.

  When he opened the door into the sitting room, Jamie clapped his hands. “We got a TV bigger than Uncle Carlo’s.”

  “I see that but you’re not parking in front of it the way he does. Remember what I say.”

  “Boys who just sit and watch TV get fat. Then they get lazy.”

  Jay laughed. “Interesting theory.”

  “You should see my brother,” Maria said.

  Jamie nodded. “Uncle Carlo watches TV all day and goes to the bar to drink beer at night. He’s mean. He even…”

  Maria touched his arm. “Enough.”

  Jay wondered what the boy had planned to say.

  Maria turned her head. “Show us the bedrooms. I’ll help Jamie unpack and we’ll set up the keyboard.”

  “And I can play?”

  “For half an hour after your bath.” She touched Jay’s arm. “He would play for hours if I let him.”

  Jay gulped a breath. Jamie definitely was his son. He wished someone had encouraged him to have other interests other than music. He’d spent hours trying to impress his concert pianist father. Hadn’t happened. Not until high school had he found other interests.

  While Maria and Jamie unpacked he assembled the keyboard. He had just finished when Maria wheeled into the sitting room.

  “Where’s the bathroom?” she asked.

  He opened a door between the bedrooms and studied the space. “Hope this will work.”

  Maria peered inside. “Maneuvering the chair will be tricky. Could you start the water for Jamie’s bath? If he doesn’t bathe now there won’t be any play time.”

  Jay rested his hand on her shoulder. An urge to haul her into his arms and kiss her grew stronger. Not going to happen. He couldn’t become involved until he was sure of her motives for being in Fern Lake. He moved into the bathroom, turned on the water and tested the temperature.

  A nude Jamie pushed past Jay and climbed into the tub. “This is better than Nana’s and nicer than the ones at the motels on our trip.”

  Maria attempted to turn the chair to reach the tub with no success. “Darn.” A stronger word hovered on her tongue but not when Jamie listened.

  “What do you need?” Jay asked.

  “To wash his hair.”

  Moments later, Jay sat on the edge of the bed rubbing shampoo into his son’s soft curls. After rinsing, he lifted Jamie and wrapped the small body in a towel. He carried Jamie to the smaller of the two bedrooms.

  “Thanks.” Maria wheeled behind him.

  An image of lifting Maria into the tub and assisting her with a bath sent his cock pressing against his jeans. He shook his head to dislodge the image. He gestured to the bathroom. “How will you manage?”

  “By standing on one foot and using the sink for a sponge bath. It’s only for a few days.”

  The sounds of music flowed from the keyboard. Jay recognized the theme song from a children’s program played perfectly. “He’s good. Did you teach him?”

  Maria’s laughter reminded him of a rushing brook. “No musical talent. He taught himself. After he’s heard a melody several times he can play it. That’s why I chose the Academy. They start music in the pre-school program.”

  “I know. I went to school there. My parents sponsored the music program.” He wheeled her to the sitting room. “After he’s in bed we need to talk.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  Jay walked to the door. “Would you like a glass of iced tea? Tomorrow I’ll have Mrs. Greene stock the mini-fridge with whatever you’d like.”

  “I’d enjoy a glass. I’m sure she and I will talk.”

  Jay left the room and walked to the kitchen. He needed to tell her Jamie was his son. What would he say if she asked him to take custody? He wasn’t anywhere near ready for that step. He could offer to help her find a larger apartment and to pay for Jamie’s medical needs.

  When he returned to the suite, he set the glasses and pitcher on the coffee table. His son’s giggles drew him to the doorway of the small bedroom. Maria closed a book. “Did you like the story?”

  Jamie laughed. “It was silly.”

  She kissed the boy’s forehead. “Night.”

  “Love you, Aunt Ria.”

  “Love you back.”

  Jay edged into the sitting room and sank on the sofa. Emotions churned. No matter what her intentions were, she loved her nephew. The difference between Maria and her sister seemed stronger than their surface resemblance. He yearned to be enclosed in such a circle of love.

  Scenes from his childhood appeared in kaleidoscopic glimpses changing almost before he saw them. His father’s egotistic manner. The man’s frequent absences from home. His mother’s involvement in the family charity trusts. Her air kisses and stiff hugs. The nannies, Mrs. Greene, Manon. Until his mother’s illness there’d been no closeness with either parent. No wonder he had an arid emotional life. He envied his son.

  Marie moved the wheelchair and halted near the coffee table. She grasped the glass of iced tea he poured. “Thanks.”

  Jay leaned forward. “Jamie is my son. That’s been confirmed. Why didn’t Delores have the abortion?”

  Maria shrugged. “I was in school full-time and working part-time. I know she and Mama fought. I’ve a feeling my brother invented some scheme to milk you for money. Delores usually listened to him.”

  “I see.” But he didn’t. He raised his glass. “For the next few days I’ll be in the studio. Help yourself to anything in the fridge and freezer. Mrs. Greene will arrive tomorrow around eight. Stays until three or four. I’ll leave a note for her.

  Maria washed one of the pain pulls down with the iced tea. “We’ll be fine.”

  He rose and bent to brush his lips over hers. The impact sizzled over him. Dumb move. He bolted from the room. Taking more than a brief taste of temptation boded trouble.

  Chapter 5

  Maria transferred from the wheelchair to the sofa. She turned on the TV and searched for something to take her mind off that kiss. Not a wise move for either of them. She opened the bottle of pain medicine and took one tablet with a drink of the iced tea. She poured the remainder from the pitcher into her glass and stared at the screen.

  As the pain in her ankle turned from acute throbbing to a dull ache, she returned to the wheelchair, managed to pull the cold pack from the mini-fridge and wheeled to the bedroom.

  As she settled on the bed and drifted in a half sleep, music flowed through the screened window. Lush sounds made her remember the music she’d found in the attic. Delores’ name had been scribbled above a blackened area. No way had her sister written any music. Had Delores planned to claim them as her own compositions? After that discovery, Maria had begun to question her sister’s tales of her husband’s cruel nature.

  Maria’s wandering thoughts morphed into thoughts of Delores’ performances in high school musicals and the church choir. The people of the small town had praised her voice. Carlo had egged her toward heading to a bigger town. He’d planned to become her manager and rake in money but Delores had gone to New York City and left him behind.

  Mama had been the cash cow for the pair. Nothing Maria had said had changed Mama’s opinion that her twin angels could do anything wrong. Forcing Delores to remain pregnant had been the joint effort of Mama and Carlo.

  Her thoughts rolled forward to the day after her mother’s death, a week after graduation. Carlo had wanted to find Jamie’s father and extort money for returning the boy.

  No way would that happen, not when she was Jamie’s guardian. She’d found the papers in the attic and searched using the computer at the college. She’d planned. The day Carlo flew to New York, she
had accepted the OT position in Fern Lake where she hoped Carlo wouldn’t find them.

  Like she’d used a remote to change her thoughts, Jay’s acknowledgement of Jamie as his son pleased and saddened her. Though she’d hoped the man would play a bigger role in his child’s life, she feared being pushed aside.

  The day she’d seen the four pound infant in the incubator, she’d fallen in love. His will to survive had been strong. Seeing him today no one would believe he’d been a preemie. She would fight to remain a vital part of his life.

  With a yawn, she capped her thoughts. The lush strands of what must be a love song wove scenarios in her head. Jay. The kiss. The brush of his lips over hers flowed with the music. She sighed. There’d been a connection. He’d pulled away. Had he thought of Delores? She wanted to cry. The music lulled her to sleep.

  Bright sunlight and an excited Jamie woke her. She glanced at her watch. She’d slept until past nine. Maria eased into a sitting position and winced. She’d forgotten the ankle.

  The music grew thunderous. Had Jay spent the entire night composing?

  Jamie crawled onto the bed. “Do you hear the song? I like the sound but there are so many notes.”

  “The music is nice and loud.”

  He kissed her cheek. “She made me pancakes that looked like Mickey Mouse. They were good.”

  She? Who? Maria rubbed her eyes and sought to clear the remaining fuzziness. “Good morning to you.” She eased from the bed onto the wheelchair. “Was the woman’s name Mrs. Greene?”

  “Yes.” Just then a woman with steel gray hair stepped into the room. “I’m sorry he woke you.”

  Maria smiled. “He let me sleep longer than usual. We’re early risers.”

  “You sleeped so long I thought you was sick.” Jamie’s green eyes flashed with fear.

  “Just sleeping long. The medicine Dr. Manon gave me was strong.” She pushed the chair toward the bathroom. “Thanks for feeding him.”

  “No problem. Made me feel useful for a change,” Mrs. Greene said. “Jay seldom appears for breakfast. Maybe a dozen times in the past year. I keep cold cuts in the refrigerator and cooked meals in the freezer. His diet is atrocious.”

  Maria edged the chair into the bathroom. “Jamie, get dressed. Then you can play the keyboard for a bit.”

  “Okay!” He ran off.

  Maria turned to Mrs. Greene. “I can’t close the door the entire way because of the chair.”

  “Got you. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

  Maria left the chair and grasped the sink for balance. She managed a sponge bath and returned to the bedroom to change clothes, choosing a skirt. She pushed the chair into the sitting room.

  Mrs. Greene rose from the mini-fridge. “Here’s your ice pack. I’ll heat the hot one in the microwave. Would you like breakfast?”

  Maria put the ice pack on her ankle. “Don’t go to any trouble.” As the cold penetrated the dressing, she sighed.

  “Won’t be. Pancake batter’s ready. Won’t take more than a few minutes to cook. Jay said I should help you with anything you need.”

  Maria nodded. She wasn’t used to being spoiled. She’d always been self-sufficient. For a few days she could let someone help her.

  Jamie popped from his room. “Can I really play this morning?”

  “While I have breakfast. Then it’s outside. Bring your top and a truck or two.”

  Mrs. Greene pushed the chair to the door. “He’s so much like his father. When Jay was his age and older he would spend hours at the piano. Someone should have pushed him to have a rounded life.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “His parents were happy with his obsession with music.”

  “Why?”

  “Mr. Lockley was a famous concert pianist. He had a dream of his children playing concerts with him. Jay and Manon had lessons from the day they could sit on the piano bench. Jay tried to please his father and failed.”

  “Why?”

  “He was interested in all instruments.” The older woman smiled. “He would start to practice a piece and wander off into variations or creating new melodies.” They reached the kitchen. Mrs. Greene pushed Maria to the table.

  “What about the mother?”

  “Lillian was involved with the family trusts and charities. Spent her days in her office.” Mrs. Greene poured batter into the skillet. “Jay never had a normal life until he rebelled in high school and started a rock band.”

  Maria frowned. Delores had said little about Jay or his family. Had her sister cared for him as more than a way to achieve her dreams?

  The older woman set a glass of orange juice in front of Maria and poured two cups of coffee. She flipped the pancakes and moments later she passed the plate across the table.

  Maria spread some of the cherry preserves on the pancakes and took a bite. “Why did Mr. Lockley want my sister to have an abortion?”

  "You mean Jay? Of course you do. He never brought her here and I’m sure he didn’t introduce her to his father.” She cradled her cup. “Jay would never make such a demand. More than a year after she left he came home looking like a wreck. Said he was grieving for his lost child.”

  The last of her sister’s rants crashed like a dropped mirror. “He never tried to find her or Jamie.”

  “He did. Hired an investigator. All he heard was a report of her death. No child was mentioned.”

  Maria swallowed more of the pancakes. “The investigator was incompetent. How he missed hearing about the emergency C-section and Jamie’s survival seems odd.”

  Mrs. Greene shrugged. “You’re right about that but I didn’t know anything at the time. Jay roamed the country. His career nose-dived. When he came home, he spent a lot of time just staring. Wasn’t until after his father died and Manon returned to town that he started working again.”

  Maria wished her mother could have realized Delores wasn’t the angel she portrayed. No wonder Jay thought Jamie’s arrival was part of a scam.

  Mrs. Greene rose. “I’ll be back in a few.”

  Maria’s appetite fled. She couldn’t eat another bite.

  The older woman returned with a CD player. “Jay wrote this when he learned about the pregnancy and added the ending the day he learned of her death.” She pressed a button.

  Music flowed from the machine. The first part was a lullaby that turned into notes so sad tears welled in Maria’s eyes. “Thank you for telling me about Jay and for sharing the music with me."

  “You need to understand so you can help him express love for his son.”

  Mrs. Greene was right. So many of the things her sister had said were lies. Maria rubbed her forehead. She needed time to digest all she’d learned.

  She backed the chair from the table. “I’d better pull Jamie away from the keyboard. He needs to be outside to play. Is there any way I can help you?”

  Mrs. Greene shook her head. “Most of the rooms are closed and the furniture covered. I’ll clean the kitchen and straighten the rooms you and Jay have used. I’m making chicken pot pies for dinner and will leave one out for you and Jamie and freeze the smaller ones.”

  “Won’t he eat with us?”

  Mrs. Greene laughed. “He eats when he remembers.” She cocked her head. “He’s still at it. I imagine he’ll be there for the rest of the day and maybe the night.”

  “He spends that long at the piano?”

  “He works until he can’t move his fingers." The older woman cleared the table. “Tomorrow I’ll grocery shop. Is there anything you’d like?”

  “Yes. Will you help me make lasagna for Thursday’s dinner? I promised. Manon and Rafe are coming for dinner and to check me out.”

  “If you instruct me. I’ve never cooked Italian food from scratch. Just opened a jar of sauce.”

  Maria smiled. “I’ll teach you. Hand me some paper and I’ll make a list.” She quickly included all the ingredients she would need.

  With the list finished she wheeled to the suite. Jamie picked out th
e notes of the melody his father played. “Excellent, but enough for now.”

  He thrust out his lower lip. “Don’t want to stop.”

  “Outside. See if you can find the cat.”

  “Come, too.”

  “I will.” She handed him the ice pack. "Put this in the fridge."

  * * *

  Jay placed the last note of the love ballad on the staff. He stared at the piano and flexed his fingers. Arrows of pain shot along his arms and caused him to gulp a deep breath. He was finished for an hour or two. He stared through the French doors and saw the night sky and the moon. How long had he worked? Since yesterday with several short breaks. His stomach gurgled. As he left the studio and headed to the kitchen, he wondered what had been left in the freezer. Didn’t matter. Something hot and filling would give him the energy to continue.

  Moments later he opened the freezer. He lifted the container and read the label. His hands spasmed and he nearly dropped his dinner. “Damn.”

  “Are you all right?”

  The soft spoken question turned the fumble into reality. The plastic dish thudded on the floor. He turned. Maria pushed the wheelchair into the kitchen. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “Came for a snack. You look like you need help.”

  “My hands. Cramps.”

  “No wonder. You’ve been working for hours. Not a wise choice. Hand me a plate and the pot pie. I’ll heat it in the microwave. While you wait, I know a way to help the cramps.”

  Why did she want to help him? The thought of her hands on him sent heat flowing to his groin. His cock stirred. He should refuse but he needed his hands loose and able to strike the keys. Flashes of caressing Maria’s body instead of the piano held him frozen.

  After drawing a deep breath, he retrieved the aluminum container and handed Maria a plate. She emptied the pot pie and set the timer.

  Jay yawned. Exhaustion threatened to make him crash. The throbbing of his hands and arms kept him awake. Maria raised hopes he shouldn’t feel and didn’t want. What was happening? He had to remember who she was and what her sister had done.