I opened my little hand to show her.
“Walnut man,” I said with a proud smile.
It was a tiny figure I had put together with a toothpick body and a walnut for a head. One of its twig arms had already fallen off in my pocket, but it didn’t matter. I made it for her.
But Mommy didn’t say anything.
She just kept staring through the glass, out at the old walnut tree in the front yard. The one with the crooked swings that moved gently in the breeze, even when there was no wind.
“Mommy,” I asked, trying to climb onto her lap, “can you sing for me?”
Nothing. Not even a blink.
She sat so still. So peaceful. Too peaceful.
I looked up at her face. Her eyes were open, but they weren’tlooking. I raised my finger toward her, slowly, just to see if she’d move. Just before I touched her eye, her hand snapped up and grabbed my wrist.
I gasped.
“Mommy,” I whispered, “that hurts.”
Still, she said nothing.
She shoved my hand away, not roughly, but not gently, either. That’s when Daddy stepped into the room.
“Lenore,” he said, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me back. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to bring Walnut Man to Mommy,” I said, bending down to pick him up where he’d fallen. I held it out to Daddy in my open palm.
He took it, but didn’t even look at it, just held it there for a second.
“You have a piano lesson in ten minutes,” he said as he crushed the walnut in his hand.
I nodded.
I didn’t want to make him mad.
I never wanted to make him mad.
So I turned and walked toward the hallway, my loafers dragging against the wooden floorboards. I was afraid the house might hear me.
At the staircase, Vivienne passed by. Her skirt was shorter than before. I noticed.
I didn’t like it.
But Daddy did.
I kept walking.
At the bottom of the stairs, my piano tutor Dominic was already seated at the bench, his long fingers resting quietly on the keys. He looked up when he saw me and gave a nod.
I hurried toward him and sat beside him on the bench.
I tried hard to focus. Harder to listen.
Because Mommy played the piano once, too.
And if I played well enough, maybe she would remember how to sing to me again.
