Page 63 of The Time It Takes
“Mom,” I interrupt her before she says something that will make me scream. “We work together. Of course, he’s smitten. I’m smitten with him as well. It’s called respect.”
This is clearly news to her. She has no clue what I’ve been up to in life. She brushes it off easily.
“Besides,” I say. “It’s not like you’ve met him.”
“Honey, that boy is in love. I just don’t understand why—”
“Enough.” My voice comes out sharp and Frank sets his fork down causing it to clink on the plate.
My mother sighs, unfazed as she looks over at Colleen whose face hardens with sudden concern as she looks at me. “Darling, I don’t know why you’re so repulsed by love.”
I scowl at my mother. “I’m not repulsed by it,” I say tightly, rolling my shoulders.
She fixes me with a look that’s full of ignorance. “You just don’t want it, is that it?”
I open and then close my mouth. If I could breathe fire, I’d be doing it. She can’t defeat me in private, so she chooses to humiliate me in front of an audience. I, for one, have always had more respect for her than she has for me.
“I’m not discussing my love life with you,” I say quietly as I take a sip of bitter red wine. A sip quickly turns into gulping until all the burning liquid is down my throat. “How’s the real estate business, Colleen?” I ask, attempting to get all the attention off myself.
“You never do, we see how well keeping it all jumbled up inside has gone for you in the past,” my mother snips.
I wince at her degrading words. My breathing quickens and I feel like I’m being dragged down into the very pits of Satan’s sanctuary, which seems to be today’s theme.
That is until I feel Oliver press his knee into mine.
“To be fair, I don’t think anyone should retrieve advice from a woman who’s been engaged three times but never married.” Oliver’s words catch me off guard. I look up at him, my eyes wide in shock. Oh, he went there. He doesn’t look at me, but his knee presses harder into mine. He’s taking up for me. Something warm and gushy forms in my heart. It’s familiarity. It’s hope. I don’t dare hold it too close.
At the other end of the table, Frank chokes on a laugh. My mother fixes him with a look that quickly shuts him up. As if thinking of something to say, the scowl on her face grows harsher as she faces Oliver. She opens her mouth to speak, but I don’t let her.
“Don’t,” I warn.
Colleen quickly starts to tell Frank all about the new recipes she’s found on Pinterest. I don’t even think he has to pretend to be interested. Eventually and reluctantly, my mother joins them. I try to give Oliver an appreciative glance, but he still won’t look at me. While our mothers catch up, he keeps his knee against mine as we both focus back on our dinner. He could have moved it away if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. I try not to read too much into it.
After dinner, I help Colleen clean up and put away leftovers—which she insists on giving me some. I don’t have the heart to refuse.
We’re all sitting in the living room like we used to. Except we’re missing two very important people. My heart clenches. We all seem to keep talking to a minimum by only discussing present matters and everyday occurrences. Everything else still feels too sensitive, even after all this time.
My eyes fall on the piano sitting adjacent to where we all sit. It looks just as I remember it. Still untouched.
“Go on,” Colleen says, pulling my attention to her. “I miss hearing you play.” Her eyes dash over to Oliver briefly. “We both do. Show us what Juilliard taught you.”
I only hesitate for a moment before scooting to the edge of the couch and standing. I know she’s speaking for him, and it puts a knot in my stomach. I don’t need to be coddled, but it feels nice to know she still cares. She always has.
“Any requests?” I ask Colleen as I take a seat on the bench.
“Whatever you want.”
I don’t need the sheet music; I’ve played it a thousand times before. As I play it now, I keep my eyes closed to the feeling of awareness it sends down my spine. My fingers connect to the keys and begin playing ‘golden hour’ by JVKE.
When I played it for Julian the first time, he told me it inspired one of his shows. That was the first time he had me play during one of his exhibits. I’ve been his sidekick ever since.
When I finish, I’m breathing rapidly, and a tear falls down my cheek. I wipe it away quickly.
For so many years, this piece was a reminder that he isn’t mine to hold anymore, despite how desperately my arms ached to reach out.
I finally open my eyes and the one person they went to find isn’t there. Seeing the disappointment on my face, Colleen tells me softly, “He went upstairs.”
I nod and some force greater than anatomy has me walking up the stairs to find him.
