“Yes, she is.” Ryan knelt beside her and put his fingers to the painted keyboard. “Can you hear my song?”
At the sound of her daughter’s sweet voice, humming along to what Ryan played, Sara’s headache was forgotten. Ezreal stepped closer, shifting to a bass harmony to Janna’s song. Sara moved beside him, her attention now on Ryan’s strokes, comparing them to what her daughter was singing. They were almost dead on.
“Wow,” Ryan said when they’d finished.
“She’s gifted,” Ezreal said quietly. “Have you started her on lessons yet?”
“I’ve been waiting for her to ask. I didn’t want to push them on her.”
Janna looked up at them. “I don’t have to wait for the group lessons?”
“Oh, sweetheart, of course not.” Sara let go of Ezreal and squatted down to her daughter. “If you don’t want me to be your teacher, I’ll find someone to give you lessons.”
“I want Ezreal to be my teacher.” Janna grinned at him. “He hears the music too.”
At the twinge of jealousy, Sara sighed, irritated with herself. “He’s too busy to give little girls—”
“I’d love to teach her if that’s what she wants.” Ezreal put his hand on Sara’s shoulder. “Sometimes it can be hard to be taught by a parent.”
“What did you think of my song?” Ryan asked hesitantly.
“You definitely hear the music too,” Sara said.
“Play it on a real piano.” Ezreal glanced at Sara. “If that’s all right.”
Was he going to take over Ryan’s lessons too? Sara had to fight back the familiar sense of inadequacy.
“I’m not looking to take on students,” Ezreal said softly, seeming to understand. “Only Jannaifyou’re okay with it.”
“Let’s hear Ryan play his song.” Sara smiled at the creative synergy that was happening in front of her.
Ezreal looked at the boy and pointed to the single electronic piano in the room. Ryan didn’t need another invitation and slid onto the bench. He turned it on and started playing.
“You could hear that in your mind while you watched his fingers on a painted keyboard?” she asked Ezreal, keeping her voice soft.
Moving one hand with the tempo of the music, he nodded. “Can you imagine a harmony to it?”
“Yes.” Sara often did that when listening to instrumental music, especially when she was involved in a mindless task. It made boring work pass faster.
“Will you hum it now?” Ezreal, his eyes narrowed, continued to watch Ryan play.
Self-conscious, she began softly.
“Yes,” he breathed, his hand movements getting larger as though he were conducting an orchestra. “Louder. Ryan, repeat it when you finish.”
Janna slid her hand into her mother’s as though she understood Sara needed the encouragement. She hummed louder. Ryan began again, and it was easier this time since she was familiar with the song. Ezreal started to hum a baritone line, and a sweetness swelled inside her at the beauty of their voices weaving in and out of Ryan’s lilting melody. When the boy ended that time, they all stopped and stared at each other as the music faded.
“It was so pretty,” Janna said. “Can I learn to do that?”
“Yes,” Sara and Ezreal said together. The four of them laughed.
“You wrote that?” Ezreal asked.
Ryan nodded, his cheeks still flushed with excitement.
“Are you sixteen yet?”
“Next month.”
