"She's Julliard material," he clarifies.
I hold my breath at his words."For her, showing this much talent at this age needs encouragement and nourishment with the utmost care and guidance from an expert."
Alisha touches my hand."Cole, you need to check on your mom.She hurried out of here, crying."
I shrug."Oh, she'll be fine."
Jeremy clears his throat and crosses his arms in front of his chest."Please tell me you didn't intend to shock your mother with the news of her granddaughter inheriting the piano gift?"
When I don’t respond he sighs."Cole, your mom has changed a lot in the last few years.Please talk to her."
I raise my brow at his surprising words.I glance back at Samantha, who's playing her last notes.
"You go to your mother.I'll stay here with Samantha and the others," my girl offers while giving my hand a short squeeze.
I let out a tired huff, but nod and stroll towards the kitchen.Why is Alisha worried about my mother when she doesn't treat her with the respect she deserves?And Jeremy, since when is he choosing my mom's side?I halt when I step over the threshold.I shake my head to be sure my eyes are correct in their observation—but they are.
My mom's standing near the kitchen sink.Her shoulders hang, and her eyes are glassy with layers of tears.They drip from her eyelids as she blinks and roll down her cheeks.She bites her bottom lip tightly to hide any sound trying to escape.When she sees me, her lower lip quivers as words make their way out of her mouth."She…" she begins, yet what follows comes with a tremor."S-She can play.Why did you lie when I asked you?"
I snort at her accusation."She has kept it hidden until recently.Her mother told her it could upset her father and his family, and she made her promise to hide it until she was eighteen."
"What?"
"When I met Jessica, I told her about my talent, and I explained to her that if my child would have a gift for playing an instrument, I would protect it from my family and other controlling people."
A new flood of tears slides over her cheeks, as she walks my way.My heart throbs in my throat when she hugs me and whispers, "I'm so sorry, Cole."
My mind deals with surging perplexity.One moment, she's the distant mother I've had most of my life, and the next, she transforms into an emotional being, who is crying and hugging me.
I swallow a few times to remove the lump in my throat.WhatamIsupposedtodo?My body ignores my chaotic mind and reacts by placing my arms around her.
Hugging my mother like this is foreign, but I've longed for this simple act of endearment and closeness since I was a child.
"I'm so sorry, Cole.I did it because I love you."
My body temperature rises at my mom's weird words."What do you mean?What are you sorry for, Mom?"I ask.
She removes her arms from around me, and as she takes a step backward, she fumbles with the silver heart-shaped locket she once received from my father.I wait as my scrambling thoughts try to figure out what she means.
"When Jessica came here, I was still grieving and assumed she was lying."
My mind spins, but when my brain puzzles it together, I stumble backward until my back hits the doorpost.JessicacametoBoston?
35
CARMEN
Fifteen Years Ago
The silencein this house devours everything - even memories.Each empty room echoes with phantom sounds: Gregory's laughter bouncing off marble floors, the whisper of his fingers across piano keys, the gentle clink of his ridiculous espresso machine at dawn.Now there's only this freezing wind trapped in my heart, an ache that comes and goes but always returns in the still moments, when the quiet becomes too loud to bear.
My fingertips stroke the polished lid of his piano, the wood smooth and cold beneath my touch.Once, this instrument sang with life under his hands.Under Cole's.Now, like everything else since the funeral, it stands as a monument to what we've lost.Wrong.Empty.Dead.
Every memory of you, my love, plays like a song in my head.An endless loop of moments I can never get back.The final kiss.The last smile.The morning you didn't wake up.
Months have passed, but grief still rampages through my limbs, my mind, my soul, like a wild animal I can't tame.I lift our favorite photo, speaking to him as if he might answer, my fingers tracing his dazzling smile in desperate hope it might ease this suffocating pain.
"You should be here, Gregory."My voice cracks on his name."Making your ridiculous espresso in that absurdly expensive machine, complaining about coffee bean prices like they're a personal insult.You should be here to hug me goodnight, kiss me good morning.I need to touch your lips, stare into those bright blue eyes while you tell me you love me.Just one more time.Please, just one more time."
