“Barnes?” I repeated as I shook her tiny hand. “As in Caitlin Barnes? Is she your mother?”
She nodded. “Uh-huh. She’s talking to Mr. Sean right now. She’s really sad because there was a fire at the shelter and the people living there lost all their stuff.”
I was shocked into silence for a moment. How did such a young child know about a homeless shelter? “That is sad,” I said carefully. “Did you have friends there?”
She shook her head. “Not anymore. They left.” After a moment’s pause, she asked, “Can you teach me?”
I blinked at the sudden change in the conversation. “Teach you?” I glanced back at the Steinway. “You mean teach you to play the piano?”
“Yes,” she replied, nodding vigorously, the beads in her hair clicking. “I want to learn, but Mommy said lessons are too expensive.”
“That’s certainly true.” I looked down at her thoughtfully. I was her age when I started playing, but my parents could afford to get me the best teachers money could buy. I wasn’t going to be around here all that long, but I could get her started, and if she showed promise, I could fund her lessons. “Sure. Why not?”
I offered her my hand and led her to the piano when she took it. With her permission, I lifted her onto the bench and sat beside her. “Have you played piano before?” I asked.
“Some at school,” she answered with a cute little pout. “But the piano is just for them to play for the chorus. They don’t have anybody to teach us how to play.”
I sighed softly. Most kids didn’t get the opportunities I had, and a lot of schools didn’t value the arts at all. I looked down at her earnest little face and smiled. “Okay, first thing—the white keys are whole steps and the black keys are half steps. Every key matches up to one of eight letters—A, B, C, D, E, F, or G. Today, we’ll only be working with the white keys.” I rested my fingers in the center of the keyboard and then pressed down with my right index finger. “This is middle C. To start, let’s see how much noise you can make with these keys.” I ran a simple five-note scale. “Just do that to see how it feels.”
Maya had to do it a few times before she got a feel for how hard to press the keys. Once she did, I had her do it with both hands. She got very excited when she was able to do it perfectly. “I did it!”
I smiled at her enthusiasm. “Okay. I’m going to show you how to play a simple song.” I played through it once and asked, “Do you know what song that is?”
She looked at me and rolled her eyes. “Duh. That’s ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.’” I stared at her with a raised eyebrow. She looked down at her hands and said, “Sorry, that wasn’t polite.”
“No, it wasn’t. I appreciate your apology.” I stilled for a moment when I realized I was channeling my first piano teacher. I smiled and shook my head. Some things never changed.
“Now,” I continued, “let’s see how you do.” I played the tune once more and then rested my hands on the keys. “I want you to put your hands on these keys, just like mine.” She put her fingers on the correct keys, but they still needed some adjusting, as did her posture. “Is it okay if I touch your hands and your shoulders?” I asked.
She looked at me thoughtfully before she answered, “Hands and shoulders are okay.” I adjusted the position of her fingers and pulled her shoulders back slightly.
“All right, let’s see how you do.” I talked her through the song, helping her even out her touch on the keys. It was rough, at first, but it didn’t take her long to get the hang of it.
The first time she got through it without any mistakes, she squealed and clapped her hands. “I did it! I did it!”
Her unfettered joy sparked something in me. I recalled my own excitement at finally learning my first piece of music and other times when I felt that surge of joy at some accomplishment. It occurred to me that I hadn’t felt that in a long time. When had I lost it?
I heard raised voices and the sliding door between the dining room and the bar opened. “There you are!” Caitlin exclaimed. She rushed over to us with Sean hurrying behind her. “I was so worried about you. You know you’re not supposed to go off on your own.”
I put a reassuring hand on Maya’s shoulder and rose to meet her frantic mother. “Caitlin, I apologize. I should have texted Sean to tell him Maya was here.”
“Except I don’t think you have my cell number,” Sean said with a wry smile.
I blinked and stared at Sean, aghast. It was true. I hadn’t gotten his number because I hadn’t needed it. I felt my face turn red. “I…” Maya interrupted my fumbling explanation.
“Mommy, Mommy, listen! Mr. Jeremy taught me how to play the piano!” Then she played “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”—quite well for having only learned it fifteen minutes before.
Caitlin looked bemused, almost shocked. “She learned that just this morning?”
I nodded. “Yes. She’s got a good ear and picks things up quickly. She’s very smart.”
Caitlin rolled her eyes. “Don’t I know it. Chris and I are trying to figure out how to keep her interested in school. She learned how to read by the time she was four.” She sighed softly, speaking over the third repetition of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” “Everything is so expensive. Chris and I are just getting back on our feet.”
I glanced over at the little girl joyously playing the instrument I loved. “I’d like to propose a possible solution.”
Sean smiled like he already knew what I was going to say. Caitlin looked dubious. I forged ahead, already working on countering her objections. “I’m here until the middle of June. I can give her lessons until then. If it seems like she’s got potential, I’ll pay for her lessons moving forward.”
Caitlin’s face was the picture of shock. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
