“I may even have a potential buyer for you,” Ben added. “Mrs. G’s goddaughter is looking to move to Langley Park.”
“And don’t forget about me. I’ll be looking to buy in this area,” Nick Kincade said as he and Zoe joined the gathering in the foyer.
Em looked from Ben to Nick. Nick was wearing the same Star Wars sweater as Ben.
“See,” Michael said with a wry grin. “I told you they took this Star Wars thing seriously.”
“This happened purely by chance,” Nick said, shaking Michael’s hand.
“And by chance,” Zoe said, “he means totally on purpose.”
Kate put her hands on her hips and pulled on Kathy’s sleeve. “If we’re going to stay in the foyer for the whole party, can I go get the candy bowl?”
Kathy clapped her hands. “Kate’s right! Come on, everybody. Let’s join the other guests.”
Michael pressed his hand to the small of her back. “Are you doing okay?”
Em smiled. “I’m good.”
They entered a large kitchen area that opened up into a spacious living room. Kathy’s husband, Dr. Neil Stein, waved from across the room. He was speaking with an older woman who looked vaguely familiar.
“Em! Michael!” Neil said, gathering her into a warm embrace. “I’m so glad you made it.”
“This is Eve Medina,” Neil said. “I’m not sure if you remember her.”
“Dr. Eve Medina,” Michael added. “the soon-to-be medical internet sensation.”
The woman shook her head. “It’s so good to see you, Em. We met many years ago. I performed your tendon repair surgery.”
Em searched her memory. Her time at the hospital was almost as much of a blur as the night she was injured. She took another look at Dr. Medina. Some gray was woven into the woman’s jet-black hair now, but she did remember the woman’s reassuring brown eyes.
“Dr. Medina,” Em said, taking the woman’s hand. “It’s so good to see you. I wasn’t at my best the last time we met.”
“I don’t remember it like that,” the doctor said. “I remember you being a very brave young woman. May I?” She gestured to Em’s injured hand.
She held up her hand for Dr. Medina’s inspection.
“I do remember it was a clean cut.” She flexed and bent Em’s ring finger. “Did you keep up with physical therapy? It appears your tendon has healed beautifully.”
“Not really,” Em answered. “I left for Australia shortly after I was injured. I did some therapy, but nothing regularly.”
“Huh,” Dr. Medina said, continuing to manipulate her finger. “May I ask what kind of work you do? I remember hearing you were a musician.”
“After I was injured I stopped playing music and went to work at a school for hearing-impaired children.”
The doctor narrowed her gaze. “Did you use sign language?”
“Yes, every day.”
Dr. Medina shared a look with Neil. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Neil smiled. “Your time working at the school and signing every day is probably what strengthened your finger and allowed you to regain full use. Sound about right, Eve?”
Dr. Medina nodded. “I would agree with that assessment, Dr. Stein.”
Em swallowed back a lump in her throat. “That’s amazing! All that time, I thought I’d lost my ability to play.”
“And the whole time you were helping your tendon heal,” Michael added.
“May I steal him away from you for a moment,” Dr. Medina said, gesturing to Michael.
“Eve’s looking into posting some of her surgeries on YouTube,” Michael said. “I’m reviewing some of the language in the disclaimer.”
“Michael is doing me quite a favor. Give me a ruptured extensor tendon, and I know exactly what to do. But when it comes to legal jargon, it’s all Greek to me.”
“I’ll just be a second,” Michael said, then followed Dr. Medina into the kitchen.
Neil gave her a knowing smiling. “Things have a way of working themselves out, don’t they?”
Em swallowed back another lump. “They do.”
Neil gestured to the violin case. “I was hoping you’d play for us this evening. Do you have anything in mind?”
“I do,” she answered.
He patted her shoulder. “Everyone! Everyone, can I have your attention?” he called out as conversations quieted. “We’ve got quite a treat for you tonight. Our own Em MacCaslin has brought her violin and will be playing for us tonight.”
Em scanned the room for Michael, but her gaze found Tom and Mindy Lancaster first. They had just arrived and were still in their coats.
Tom gave her a reassuring nod while Mindy remained frozen in place.
She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, Michael was moving toward her through the crowd of people who had gathered around her.
She opened the case and retrieved her violin and bow. “I thought I would start with a piece I haven’t played in a very long time,” she said, willing her voice not to crack. “This is a piece by Niccolò Paganini. It’s titled Nel cor più non mi sento.”
28
Em closed her eyes. Someone once asked her what went through her head before she played a piece of music. She could never answer the question because what happened didn’t just happen in her mind. Before she struck the first note, her whole body ceased being a collection of blood and bone and organs. When she held a violin, she disappeared into a place where only sound and vibration dwelled.
She opened her eyes and met Michael’s gaze before she vanished to that faraway place. Then, like an artist drawing the first brushstroke of paint across the canvas, she played the piece. Her fingers remembered each note and each pluck of the strings. Paganini’s music poured out of her like the rush of a flash flood over the sunbaked Serengeti. The bow wasn’t just bits of wood, ivory, and horse hair. It was the living extension of her right arm. The rules of time seemed to bend. She could have been playing for five seconds or five hours when, with one final stroke, the piece came to an end.
She exhaled. She wasn’t even sure if she had breathed while she’d played. Opening her eyes, she gazed down the length of the violin. The scar on her ring finger peeked out at her like a star athlete begging to be back in the game. Up until now, this scar had been the unwavering proof of her failure. Now, it was the unmistakable mark of her triumph.
She held the violin at her side and found Michael in the crowd. The entire room had gone still as if they weren’t sure if what had happened was even real. He smiled and nodded to her, his sage green eyes glassy with emotion. He closed the distance between them and kissed her in front of the entire party.
She was home.
Michael pulled back a fraction. “You are amazing,” he whispered against her lips before pressing another kiss to the corner of her mouth.
The room erupted in cheers. Em scanned the crowd. Zoe and Kathy were holding onto each other, tears streaming down their cheeks. Tom Lancaster met her gaze and patted his heart just as he did the last time she had played this piece over twelve years ago when she had performed at the symphony benefit before her ill-fated trip to Sadie’s Hollow.
She stared down at her violin.“I did it. I really did it.”
“Everything you went through has brought you here,” Michael answered.
Tom joined them, and his teary-eyed grin spoke volumes. “I’ve never heard Paganini’s piece played with more depth or with more emotion. The last time you played this piece—don’t get me wrong—it was technically flawless. But now, now your music has an emotional component second to none.”
The heat of a blush crept up her neck. “It felt different. I felt…”
“Grateful?” Tom offered.
She nodded. That was it. Before her injury, her gift was something she’d always had. From the moment she woke, to the seconds before she drifted off to sleep, her gift was with her like an inseparable twin. But after the accident, for the first time in her life, she was comp
letely alone, stripped of her constant musical companion.
“Yes, I am grateful,” she said. “I never thought I’d get it back. I thought I’d lost it forever.”
“Your gift is still there. In fact, I don’t think you’ve ever sounded better,” Tom said.
“He’s right,” Michael added. “Listening to you play—it was like being transported to another world.”
Tom nodded. “I think we should get you back on stage. I can talk to some people at the symphony.”
“I agree,” Michael said. He turned to Tom. “Em and I have been working on some music. It’s a blend of classical pieces mixed with electronic and techno elements. It’s cutting edge stuff. There’s a huge following for that online. Many internet musicians have snagged lucrative recording contracts starting this way.”
Tom nodded. “I’ve started listening to this kind of crossover genre. It’s fascinating stuff, and really engaging the younger generation to explore classical roots.”
Em’s gaze bounced between Michael and Tom like she was watching a tennis match. The flurry of their words made her head spin.
“Hold on,” she said, setting her violin carefully on an end table. She looped her arm through Michael’s and leaned into him.
“Are you okay, Em?” he asked.
She was lightheaded. “It’s all a little overwhelming,” she answered, concentrating on her breath. “I’m not ready to play with the symphony right now. And I’m definitely not ready to be some internet sensation.”
“Of course, Em,” Tom said with the same gentle smile he’d given her as a child. “But you should know, it will all be there when you’re ready. Just say the word. I’m not sure when you’re heading back to Australia, but—”
Kathy Stein cut in and tapped a spoon to a glass of champagne. “I think this is as good a time as any to make a toast.”
The room quieted as Neil, Ben, and Zoe passed out glasses of champagne.
Kathy smiled at her guests. “We have many things to be thankful for, don’t we, friends?”
The room buzzed with murmurs of agreement as Neil put an arm around his wife.
“We’re thankful for all your love and friendship. We’re thankful for the many gifts life gives us each day.”
Em looked up, and Kathy met her gaze. Kathy’s eyes held a question. Em knew what she was asking and nodded.
“We’re thankful to have Em home. I’m happy to tell you, she has decided to stay in Langley Park.”
The room shifted its focus from Kathy and onto her. Michael wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple.
Kathy blinked back tears. “Sweetheart, it’s so good to have you home. Let’s all raise our glasses, and, with profound gratitude in our hearts, let’s toast to Langley Park. It’s not just where we live. It’s where we love.”
The tinkling of glass filled the air, and Michael tapped his glass against hers. “I guess it’s official. You’re here to stay.”
She gazed around the room. Sam had arrived and was holding Kate in his arms. The pair gave her bright smiles and two thumbs up. Zoe was standing next to Ben and Jenna.
Her friend wiped away a tear and mouthed, “Love you.”
Em mouthed back, “Love you, too.”
She set her champagne down and rested her hands on Michael’s chest. “It’s good to be home,” she said, pushing up on her toes. He met her in the middle and pressed another kiss to her lips.
* * *
“I have a few last minute things I need to do before we head over to the Senior Living Campus,” Michael said, zipping his coat. “And one of those things may or may not involve a certain Christmas present for you.”
Em curled up on the sofa in Michael’s living room. Her stomach was acting up again, but she didn’t want to worry him.
“Lucky for me, I finished my shopping two days ago. You’re cutting it close, aren’t you? It is Christmas Eve.”
They had gotten a tree from a vendor in Langley Park’s town square a few days ago, fished out all their favorite childhood ornaments from dusty boxes, and hung their stockings over the fireplace in Michael’s Foursquare. She’d purchased Michael’s gift—a fancy keyboard for them to use in the carriage house recording studio—a few days after the Stein’s holiday party. But she had no idea what he had in store for her.
“You can’t put a time limit on perfection,” he said. He looked her over. “Is it your stomach, again?”
“It’s nothing,” she said, patting Cody who was snoozing away on the couch next to her.
He gave her a dubious look. “I’ll work as fast as I can. If I can get a few things squared away today, I won’t have to do a lick of work for the next week.”
She walked him to the door. “I’m sorry, did you just say lick?”
He bent down and pressed a kiss to her lips. “When I get back, we aren’t leaving my bed for the next week.”
She cocked her head to the side. “What about food?”
“Completely overrated. But with your stomach, we better make a couple of platefuls of grilled cheese. We can leave them next to the bed.”
She shook her head. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
“I may be a little longer than that. I’ll work as fast as I can.” He dropped a kiss to her forehead. “You should check out that old box I found in your carriage house when I was looking for the Christmas ornaments. I think it had some of your old music books and possibly a diary or two.”
Em’s eyes widened. “I certainly hope you didn’t read anything.”
“I think they’re just your old practice logs.”
She swatted his chest. “You did read them!”
“No, you know I wouldn’t do that, Em,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Take a look. I left the box in the kitchen.”
Michael left for the office, and she padded into the kitchen. The old box was brittle and sun-bleached on one corner from where it must have sat exposed to the light over the last decade, maybe longer. She opened the box and waved away a puff of dust.
“Look at these,” she said as Cody joined her in the kitchen. She had loved using datebooks to log not only her practice time but just about every aspect of her day. From the time she was eight and until her accident, she studiously recorded all her daily activities.
“I was a pretty thorough kid, Cody.”
The dog tilted his head from side to side as if he understood.
“I recorded everything: when I woke up, when I practiced, even my—” She stopped her narration and ran her finger along a series of red dots, each appearing over five consecutive days.
“Oh my gosh,” she whispered. Her periods had been irregular since she was a teenager. The red dots were her not so subtle way of tracking her cycle. She’d started taking birth control pills to combat this when she was eighteen, shortly after she moved to Australia. Then a realization nearly knocked the breath out of her.
She ran into the bathroom and rummaged through her cosmetics pouch where she had kept her pills. She’d stopped wearing heavy makeup and had barely touched the bag over the last few weeks.
Back in Australia, she had a set routine. First, she would take her birth control pill. Next, she’d apply her mask of makeup. But now that she was in Langley Park, that routine had been thrown off. How long had it been since she had even unzipped the pouch? She examined the pack. Nearly full, and it should have been almost empty.
Despite being on the pill, she had always insisted on using condoms with her sexual partners.
But she hadn’t with Michael.
Em looked at herself in the mirror. Turning to the side, she stared at her abdomen. She didn’t look any different. At least, she didn’t think she did. She drummed her fingers on the sink and tried to think. Her last period started the day after Halloween and ended a few days later. She hadn’t had one since then.
She closed her eyes and tried to organize her thoughts. She’d had bouts of nausea. She preferred herbal tea to her espresso
laden flat whites, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had wanted a sip of alcohol. She opened her eyes and surveyed herself in the mirror.
“Wow,” she breathed, pressing her hands to her abdomen.
* * *
The timer beeped. Em looked on as another bold pink plus sign bloomed under the strip of clear plastic. Ten home pregnancy tests had all come to the same conclusion: Mary Michelle MacCaslin was pregnant.
“Cody, you’re going to be a big brother.”
The dog tilted his head, and Em laughed, then cried, then laughed some more.
“A baby,” she said, unable to stop smiling. She had never even considered motherhood. But the thought of having a baby with Michael only made her heart burst with joy.
“Should we call Michael?” she asked the dog. Cody tilted his head. “Oh, you’re no help,” she said, scratching between his ears.
“No! We’ll surprise him.”
Em collected all ten pregnancy tests and hid them throughout the house as Cody watched her with a perplexed expression.
She held up the last one. “We can’t forget the carriage house.”
She pulled on her boots and walked the short distance across the backyard. She flipped on the carriage house light, and a warmth bloomed in her chest. Sheets of paper scribbled with musical notations were scattered across the desk next to their digital audio workstation equipment.
She wanted to hide this last pregnancy test under the sheet music for their Chopin Nocturne 20 remix, but an orange piece of paper stuck to the side of the workstation caught her eye.
Upload all files of EM project
She plucked the note from the desk. Crushing anger replaced the rush of joyful euphoria. He had promised he wouldn’t do anything with their music until she was ready. She grabbed a pencil and wrote a message on the bottom of Michael’s note:
So much for being BETTER TOGETHER!
Angry tears blurred her vision. Rubbing her eyes, she left the note and the pregnancy test on the desk and ran out of the carriage house. Her gaze bounced between the two American Foursquares. All their shared history closed in around her. Suffocating her. Smothering her with his deception. He had gone behind her back. He’d lied. She shook her head. It couldn’t be true. Michael wouldn’t do that. Would he?
The Sound of Home Page 23
