by Karen Ferry
“See you soon.”
Quickly, I went to the very back of the house where the old library-slash-Gramps’-bedroom was. The door was ajar, letting out a soft glow from his bedside lamp, and I knocked softly.
“Come on in, girl,” Gramps’ tired voice called out.
I pushed the door and quickly scanned the room, checking to see if he had everything he needed, and walked closer. He was sitting up in his bed, pillows tucked behind him, that was in the middle of the room. He held a book in his hands, and his legs out before him. It was my favorite room of the house, and when he’d first wanted to move down here when taking the stairs had become too much for him, I’d done what I could to make sure he’d feel right at home.
The old, wooden desk had been moved to the side, old maps littered on the surface, and I knew the drawers held countless journals of his travels because he’d let me read them whenever I came to visit as a child. His globe sat on top of the desk, free of dust, because that’s how I liked it. I liked order, but I didn’t dare tidying the desk too much, not wanting to overstep Gramps’ boundaries.
I moved my eyes to him. Seeing him in his usual pinstriped pajamas comforted me, albeit it filled me with a twinge of regret, too. I remembered a time not that long ago when he’d still been able to walk briskly, holding my hand as he tried to persuade me to take over the Montgomery vineyard when I got older. Even then, I knew that the family business wasn’t for me, and I’d told him over and over until he finally believed me. I still wasn’t sure where I fit in the world, but maybe I’d have the answer after the year was over.
“I just wanted to see if there’s anything you need before I head to bed?” I took his hand as I sat down on the chair next to his bed. I smiled fondly at him. Gramps might be getting on in years – he had just turned eighty-five years old – but he could still get himself dressed despite the problems with his knees. Old age and arthritis were hell on a man who’d been used to exercise every day.
He removed his reading glasses and shook his head.
“I’m fine. Ethan’s staying the night?”
“Yeah.” I looked down at his weathered hand in mine.
“And you’re okay with that?”
I raised my eyes and tilted my head at him.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Gramps chuckled as he squeezed my hand.
“You can’t fool me, girl, but I’ll respect your privacy.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
He sighed. “You’re as hard-headed as your dad. Always have been.”
“Thank you,” I beamed at him.
“There’s something I want to speak with you about, and I won’t hear any protests or arguments after I’ve finished. Agreed?”
I leaned forward in my seat, alarmed by his words.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes, yes, everything’s fine.” He looked down at our entwined fingers and pursed his lips, seeming to gather his thoughts. “I want you to answer a question first.”
“Sure.”
“Do you have enough funds for your trip?”
I tensed up immediately.
“Yes. I wouldn’t go if I didn’t.”
His fingers slipped out of my hand and he crossed his arms on his chest, staring me down. I tried not to cringe but then gave in to his hawk-like gaze.
“All right, I have enough to scrape by for the first six months or so,” I muttered.
“And then? What’ll you do when you run out?
“I don’t know. But I’ll be fine, Gramps.”
Or, at least I thought I would be. I’d been reluctant to really think through that part even though I knew I should.
He raised an eyebrow at me as I deflated in my chair.
“I thought so,” he muttered. “I know your grandmother left you a bit of money when she passed away, and I have no problem whatsoever with you spending them on your big adventure. Lord knows she’d be happy you did since it’s been your dream to see the world for so long. She always knew that.” He smiled sadly at me and my nose started to prickle with suppressed tears. “You’re just like me and your father…and your grandmother, too. You have wanderlust, my dear. It’s in your blood.”
“Itchy feet,” I forced the words through my dry throat.
“Exactly. But I don’t want you to scrape by, as you call it. An adventure will always be clouded if one worries about money all the time. So, I’ve spoken with my lawyer, and I want you to get a part of your inheritance from me now instead of waiting until I’m lying in the cold ground, rotting away.”
I gasped. “What?”
“You heard me, Penelope.”
Startled, I scrambled to find the right words.
“Gramps, I can’t…I don’t…”
“It would mean a great deal to me if you’d accept my gift, girl,” he said softly. “It would please me to no end knowing that you were out there in the world enjoying yourself instead of worrying about money. Make an old man happy, Penelope.”
That was the third time tonight that someone had foregone my wishes and called me by my real name.
“Pippa,” I corrected him automatically.
He sighed and shook his head at me. “Not anymore. You’re a grown-up now.”
I wet my lips and thought about his offer.
“You’re not going to let me say no, are you?” I smiled weakly at him. “I know you, Gramps – once you get an idea in your head, nothing will stop you from going through with it.”
“Pot meet kettle,” he deadpanned.
“Ugh.” I hated to admit it, but he was right. Gramps might say I resembled my dad, but we both knew the truth: I took after Gramps the most. We were so much alike it was uncanny, but that didn’t stop me from trying to do things my way instead. “Might I suggest a counter-offer?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?!” I cried out. “You haven’t even heard what it is yet.”
“I don’t need to because I already know it.” He tapped my nose with his index finger. “You’re going to suggest that you’ll call me if you need extra cash while you’re away, but here’s the thing, girl: I know you. You won’t ask for help.”
I grabbed his hand and placed his palm on my cheek. I knew he’d defeated me.
“I’ve been saving for this trip for years, Gramps. I wanted to do this on my own.”
His eyes gentled.
“I know, but don’t cast aside help when it’s offered freely. You’re a proud woman, and I admire it – except when you’re wrong.”
I nodded again as I looked down. He was right – again.
Damn it.
“Good girl,” he sighed and leaned back in his bed. “I’ll call Arnold tomorrow, make the arrangements for the money to be transferred to your account as quickly as possible.” His eyes lit up with excitement. “Do you want to know how much it is?”
“Oh, gosh, no!” I laughed though my tears, warding him off with my hands in front of me. “I’d rather not.”
He chuckled again and yawned. “All right, then. I’m ready to sleep now, girl. Goodnight.”
I stood from my chair and bent down to kiss his cheek.
“Thank you,” I whispered against his warm skin. “For everything.”
I felt him nod as he patted my arm. I straightened my back and took his book, placing it gently on the bedside table before I turned out the light. Mind reeling, I left him alone, shutting the door softly behind me.
Blowing out a long breath, I leaned my back against the hard wood, needing a moment to myself before I went upstairs to Ethan.
3
The Past - A Special Boy
Pippa & Ethan – ages ten & thirteen
The sound of piano music pulled me from my book and I cocked my ear. No one had played the old thing in ages, so to say that it was unusual to hear the slightly off-key notes on this plain, boring Sunday would be an understatement.
I looked
at Mama from my perch at the bar in the kitchen. She was baking again, a task she did when she was feeling worried about something and wasn’t ready to talk about it. The puzzled look in her pale green eyes gave way to astonished warmth.
“Mama, who’s playing?” I set aside my book and leaned my arms on the table.
“I’m not sure,” she mused as she set down the tray filled with cinnamon cookies in front of me. She blew a lock of her blonde bangs away from her eyes. “It’s been years since Max played, so it can’t be him. But maybe you can go take a look?”
I scratched a mosquito bite on my ankle. “It has to be Ethan, doesn’t it?”
She tilted her head at me. “If you already know the answer, why do you ask?”
I shrugged and hopped down from my seat. “Just had a hunch, I guess.”
She shook her head. “You’re too clever for your own good, baby girl.”
Grinning, I went to the sitting room at the back of the house. As I came closer, I bent down to take off my shoes, afraid Ethan would hear me if I wasn’t careful. After I’d slipped them off, I tiptoed closer and stopped at the doorway. Cautious, I kept most of my body hidden behind the wall and peeked inside the room.
He was sitting down, head bent, while he tested out the notes with what appeared to be all his fingers at once, and while I didn’t recognize the piece he was playing – it was so sad and melancholy – I recognized the beauty of it.
But what turned out to be even more beautiful was the boy playing. His eyes were closed, and as his lips tilted up at the corners, serenity passed over his features for once, and I was captivated by how relaxed he seemed, lost in his own world and playing a work of art that, despite its sadness, seemed to make him feel at ease. I was so tempted to walk inside and sit down next to him. I wanted to listen to him play for hours. Maybe, if we’d become friends like I’d hoped when he’d moved into our home two months ago, I could’ve done that, but all my attempts at befriending him had been in vain, and he kept to himself most of the time. Molly and Sam had become his shadows, and they were the only creatures he allowed close to him – and there they were, snoring at his feet. Mama and Daddy even allowed them to sleep in his room every night, even though they’d always told me no when I’d asked; but I didn’t resent him for it. I knew there must be a very good reason for them to allow it, and maybe they’d tell me when they were ready to share it.
So, I didn’t walk inside. Instead, I leaned against the door frame and watched the afternoon sunlight filter through the big windows as it bathed his whole body in a warm, comforting glow. I tried to remember if Ethan had ever shown an interest in the old piano before now, but I couldn’t. Then again, he still rarely spoke unless someone asked him a direct question that needed an answer beyond “yes” or “no”, and he spent most of his time in his room. But that wouldn’t be possible for much longer. School would start up soon, and Mama had told us to keep an eye on him when we could.
I didn’t mind. He was a mystery, after all, and one I hoped I’d still find a way to solve. I hadn’t given up on him. Somehow, I knew I never would.
I closed my eyes, mesmerized by the music. I’d give myself another few minutes of the lovely tune he conjured with his hands before I’d sneak back to the kitchen and help Mama tidy up the kitchen. But abruptly, the music stopped, startling me. My eyes popped open.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” Ethan’s anxious voice interrupted the peace and I cursed inwardly for not paying more attention to him.
“I heard the piano,” I whispered as I straightened my back and took a step inside the room. “I couldn’t resist finding out who was playing.”
His eyes started flitting around the room, as if he was trying to find an escape route, and I frowned.
“It was beautiful,” I kept talking, trying to put him at ease. “I wish I knew how to do that, but Mama always says I’m too impatient to learn it properly. Who taught you to play?”
Instead of answering, he bit his lower lip and closed the lid. Disappointed, I looked down at Sam who’d woken up from his slumber. Clucking my tongue at the dog, I felt more at ease when Sam yawned and rose. But instead of coming my way, he placed his head in Ethan’s lap. That was strange. But it seemed to pull Ethan free of whatever place he’d gone to inside his mind, because his hands started to stroke the dog’s head.
“I…my mama taught me before she died,” Ethan murmured and looked down at Sam. “It’s the only piece I know, though. It’s called The Moonlight Sonata.”
“I’m so sorry, Ethan.” The words seemed trite, but I didn’t know what else to offer.
Not knowing what to say to this strange boy, I turned on a low sigh, admitting defeat again.
“Pippa?”
At the sound of my name, I stopped and turned slowly to look back at him.
“Yes?” I held my breath, silently marveling at the fact that he’d approached me for the very first time.
A faint blush crept up his neck and cheeks, and my heart skipped a beat when he looked down again, his long eye lashes fanning his cheekbones, but then I snapped out of it. What on earth was that? I didn’t have time to examine the strange workings of my heart, because when Ethan spoke up again, I kept my eyes riveted on him, careful not to miss anything he wanted to say.
“Do you want to stay a while? I can play it again, if you’d like?”
Relieved that he wanted my company, I beamed at him.
“Yes! Let me just go grab some cookies. Mama just finished baking, and you have to try her cinnamon cookies.” I backed away slowly, worried he’d disappear if I didn’t hurry up. “Don’t move, all right?”
A small smile met me as he nodded and turned to open the lid again, and I stormed out of the room and ran down to the kitchen.
“Mama!” I panted as I skipped to a stop. “Quick! Cookies.”
Her eyes shot up in surprise. “Excuse me, young lady? You know better than to talk like that. I’m not a maid.”
“Sorry, but you don’t understand.” I waved my hands at her and tried to explain as quickly as possible. “I was listening to Ethan playing, and suddenly he discovered me, but instead of bolting like he usually does, he asked me to stay! And I thought that offering him some cookies would make him relax even more. So, I came out here to get some.” Anxious to get back to him, I bounced lightly on the heels of my feet.
Mama’s mouth quirked with amusement, but she only leaned against the tabletop and crossed her arms. Her eyebrows raised, she kept her silence and I knew then and there that my explanation wouldn’t sway her. Good manners, on the other hand, would.
“May we please have some cookies, Mama? Please?”
Her full lips stretched in a wide grin and she nodded. “Already made a plate for you, baby girl.”
My eyes widened, and I came closer to the counter, my mouth salivating at the sight of them behind her back.
“Thanks, Mama.” I grinned up at her and then quickly took the plate before I darted back into the hall. When the front door opened, I barely acknowledged Daddy, Parker, and Max as they came home from their fishing trip.
“Hey, where’s the fire?” Daddy laughed as I brushed past him.
“Playing the piano.”
“What?” I looked back and caught the deep frown. “Who’s playing the piano?”
“Wait, are those Mama’s cookies?” Parker yelled after me. I nodded quickly at him, but I didn’t have time to answer Daddy’s question, figuring Mama would fill him in.
“Hey, you need to share them.” Max was hopping around on one foot, struggling to get his waders off, but I just rolled my eyes at him.
“There’s plenty of cookies to go around,” Mama said as she joined us in the hall, but my patience had run out, and I resumed running back to the sitting room. I was consumed with spending time with Ethan now that he seemed to want my company, and I couldn’t get to him quickly enough.
The rest of that summer was spent with Ethan. Every day, he’d tell me more about himself,
and we could spend hours outside in the garden up in my treehouse that Daddy had built years ago. Sometimes, Parker and Max joined us, but even though they were closer to Ethan’s age than I was, they didn’t want to spend all their free time with their little sister.
Fine by me.
I had Ethan, and he had me.
4
Hurt Hearts
Present Day
Exhausted in both mind and body, I fell down on my bed after having taken a quick shower. My pillow felt like heaven and yet I couldn’t fall asleep.
The night had been a whirlwind of emotions, all raging for first place in my head, and now, I was wondering if I’d been better off taking Ella up on her offer and head to her place after my failed date ended.
Then again, if I had, I wouldn’t have seen Ethan and gotten the chance to clear the air between us.
Well, if you could call our argument and our subsequent truce clearing the air.
Now that I was alone, my thoughts veered off to many moments in our childhood, running through me in flashes of images as if it was a movie.
Ethan smiling excited at me the first time Dad took us out on his boat that first summer when he came to live with us.
Ethan climbing an apple tree in the orchard because I was too scared to do it myself, handing me one delicious apple after another.
Ethan helping me with my math homework when I was twelve, and I couldn’t figure out geometry. To this day, I still felt it was a complete waste of my time.
I grabbed a pillow and placed it over my head, the urge to scream in frustration difficult to overcome, but I didn’t want to risk waking up the house so all the sound I let out was a muffled grunt.
A knock on my door made me spring up in bed, my long hair crackling with static.
It had to be Ethan knocking on my door at – I glanced at the clock on my bedside table – almost midnight.
When the knock came again, this time a bit louder, I pushed my hair away from my lips.
