I breathe in deeply, greedily. My fingers dance over the smooth keys, moving toward the last chorus, which rises like a storm—slow, steady, powerful. I look at Nev and feel something fierce. She is so young, yet so brave. So tiny, yet everywhere. Her fingers are balled into tight fists, but her spine is straight and her jaw soft. I loosen my own jaw.
Together we deliver the ending.
I’m a dreamer made of love. A dreamer made of thoughts.
An arrow made of feathers, and a rope made of knots.
I’m a girl made of dreams. A girl made of hopes.
A story made of rhythm, and a song made of notes.
Oh… a song made of notes.
And a song made of notes.
Like in a game of red light, green light, the world holds still around us. And then Mona, shaking her head, stands and claps. And then Mom, too, stands. She claps but keeps having to stop to knuckle tears from her cheeks.
I shade my eyes to see Ten. He doesn’t clap, but nods to me, and that subtle show of approval is more meaningful than any clap.
Nev’s hand wraps around mine. Devastating delight spreads over her face and falls in streaks over me. This is all she’s ever wanted… to be heard by the one person who’d never even tried to listen.
61
My Time
Nev walks off the stage, her head held so high and straight that her hair flutters off her face. I don’t follow her. I wait on the piano bench. When she reaches our moms, it’s mine who hugs her first.
But then Mona extends her arms, and Nev walks into her mother’s embrace. Mona’s red mouth moves, glinting in the stage lights. I hope she’s telling Nev that she’s proud; I hope she’s making plans to see her again now that they have something in common.
Ten hasn’t moved from his pew in the back, features tight. He’s worried, but will he ever not be? He raised his sister. He cares for her in a way that no one, not even his father, let alone his mother, does.
After another moment, Nev and Mona pull apart, and then Kara is tapping Mona’s shoulder, gesturing to the camera crew. Mona tips her head to the bench she was occupying, an invitation for Nev to sit, but Nev springs down the aisle before flouncing into the seat next to Ten. He seems as surprised as Mona that Nev decided to sit back there.
I’m not.
Their heads come together, and then he slings an arm around her shoulders and pulls her against him, and the tension blighting his beautiful features finally slackens.
I hope he realizes that Nev willalwayschoose him.
A calmness envelops me, as though the buildup of adrenaline is finally draining away, drip by slow drip. I play my song again, pouring everything I have into it this time.
I play it for all the young dreamers out there, those who dare to want something out of reach.
I play it for Lynn, and for my mom, the two women who got me to where I am.
I play it for Nev, to thank her for propelling me forward when I’d stopped moving.
And I play it for Ten.
Especially for Ten.
To prove to him that music can bring about emotions other than rancor and spite.
62
The Dotted Line
While Mom ushers Ten and Nev toward the buffet set up in the back, Mona and I take a seat to discuss the contract. I’ve already read through it with Jeff and Mom, so there are no surprises, just fancy, frightening words that make it sound as though I’m selling my soul instead of just words and an accompanying melody.
