Porcelain Keys (26 page)

He turned his face into my hand affectionately. “Why do you love me?”

“Because whenever I see you walk into a room, I can’t help but smile. Because you make me feel safe, like you would never hurt me. Because every time I hear you play, I am completely mesmerized. And my life would be dull and drab without you.”

“So then marry me.”

“Devin, I just . . . don’t feel ready. I’m only nineteen.”

“My parents were eighteen when they got married, and they just celebrated their thirty-fifth anniversary.”

I nodded slowly and turned to gaze out the window. Again, he was right. Did it really matter how old two people were as long as they were right for each other? And Devin and I were certainly right for each other. We got along, we enjoyed each other’s company, we had everything in common. So what caused my hesitation? A face appeared in my mind, with dark hair and bright blue eyes, giving
me the answer I already knew. I could never give my whole heart to Devin until I knew what had become of Thomas. But how would I find the answers I needed? Maybe when I got back to New York, I would renew my search efforts. I would call Richard again, and any other relatives I could find. In fact, maybe I would call them when we got to Dad’s house and I had a moment by myself. If I still didn’t find any answers, I would call hospitals and police departments and search online databases. Maybe I would even look into hiring a private detective. Though I had no way of paying for it.

I felt Devin’s hand wrap gently around mine, pulling me back to our unfinished conversation. “Aria,” he said, “you don’t have to answer me now. I just want you to think about it.”

I took his hand and pressed his open palm against my cheek. “I love you, Devin.” I gave a rueful sigh and leaned against his shoulder, looping my arm through his. “I’m sorry I’m not ready to give you an answer. But I promise I will seriously think about it.”

He kissed me on the head. “That’s all I ask. And, remember, you already know how I feel about you. So when you feel ready, let me know and I’ll drop down on one knee.”

“You’re too wonderful, Devin,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said. “That’s why you should marry me.”

A few minutes later, we pulled into Dad’s driveway. His truck was gone, but a black sedan was parked on the gravel, and I figured it was Vivian’s. We parked next to it and got out. The outside of the house looked much the same as the last time I’d seen it, including the white snow shrouding the roof and yard. While Devin pulled luggage from the trunk, I climbed the steps to the covered porch and
knocked on the door. There was no answer, so I turned the doorknob and found it unlocked. Slowly, I opened the door and stepped inside.

My first reaction at seeing Dad’s transformed living room was a sense of disorientation, like I’d stepped into the wrong house. My second reaction was to smile. Vivian had certainly brought an element of warmth back to the house, but it looked like she’d had to work around the things Dad wouldn’t give up. Harriet and Ned, the two quails, now shared their tree branch mount with bursting cherry blossoms, and a matching floral swag hung over their heads. Ann the fox was untouched on the side table, but she now sat on a white lace doily. Dad’s old couch had been replaced by Vivian’s floral sofas, and her glass knickknacks were lined up on the fireplace mantel. But the most notable difference was that Knox the wolf was missing. I wondered how Vivian had convinced him to give up his most prized possession.

“Hello?” I called out as I stepped further in.

There was no answer.

“Where should I put these?” Devin asked in the doorway, towing his suitcases behind him.

“Oh. Probably in the downstairs bedroom. It’s the only spare room with a bed.” I led him down the hall to the spare bedroom and flipped on the light. A large gray wolf with bared teeth welcomed us, and I jumped back into Devin and gasped. “So this is where she hid him.”

Devin paused in the doorway and stared at Knox with wide eyes.

“I told you,” I said, “my dad likes to hunt.”

“Yeah, but I was thinking ducks or deer or squirrels. How am I going to sleep with that thing staring at me all night?”

“Sorry, I didn’t know it was in here. It used to be in the living room.”

Devin dropped his suitcase by the bed. “I’m a big boy. I’ll be fine. Where’s your room?”

“Upstairs.”

“I’ll go get your suitcase.”

He left the room, and I wandered back into the living room. Through the window I saw Vivian pull into the driveway in a white pick-up truck. She got out and started talking to Devin. I was about to go out to greet her when my eyes were drawn to the parlor.

The parlor door was wide open, and the afternoon sun spilled out of the room. I slowly approached the parlor and stepped inside. Mom’s piano stood, as always, in the center of the room. But the last time I’d seen it was after Dad had taken a crow bar to it. Now the lid was reattached and open with the lid prop. The broken keys had been replaced, and the shiny lacquer repaired. So this was the surprise—Mom’s piano mended and made new. What did this mean? Did it mean that Dad was finally ready to have music in his home again? That his heart was finally healed enough to hear me play? Or did he just feel so guilty about everything that had happened that this was his way of making restitution? Regardless of the reason, I was overcome with emotion. With tears brimming on my lashes, I sat at the piano. I played a few keys and was pleased to hear it had been tuned.

Sinking gently into a Debussy piece, my ears and heart rejoiced at the rich, familiar tones of Mom’s piano. It had been over two years since I played it, and it sounded just as sweet. Only my hands had grown more competent, making it easier and more natural to play. I breathed my
soul into the neglected instrument, and it came to life and welcomed me back like an old friend.

Halfway through the piece, I sensed someone behind me. I glanced back to see who it was, and my hands froze on the keys. I stood with such swiftness that I knocked over the piano bench behind me.

It wasn’t Dad. It wasn’t Vivian or Devin.

Whether ghost, illusion, or flesh and blood, Thomas Ashby stood at the threshold of the parlor, his bright blue eyes fastened on me. His face, adorned in the ethereal afternoon light, was wistful and uncertain.

My mind couldn’t seem to wrap itself around the scene before me. It could not accept the image my eyes were attempting to transmit.
You’re lying,
my mind said to my eyes. But it didn’t matter what my mind said. My heart received the message with foolhardy eagerness.

“Aria,” he whispered, taking a step toward me.

At the sound of his voice, my heart lurched violently inside my chest and my knees started shaking. Maybe it was because I wasn’t breathing, but I suddenly felt lightheaded. I leaned back on the keyboard to steady myself, and the upper keys made a discordant crashing sound.

The front door opened, and Devin walked in carrying my suitcase. Vivian followed close behind, holding a paper bag full of groceries. “Goodness, Aria,” Vivian said in a delighted voice. “Why didn’t you tell me you were bringing a guest?”

I stared at Vivian with wide eyes, but I couldn’t manage to get a single word through my lips. Luckily, she took control of the situation. She glanced at Devin.

“Devin,” she said, gesturing to Thomas, “this is Thomas. He’s an old family friend. He’s going to be staying with us for a few days.”

My mouth dropped open but still no words came.

Devin gave a small wave. “Hey. Nice to meet you.” He nodded to my suitcase. “Where should I put this?”

“Oh,” Vivian said. “Upstairs, second door on the left.”

He carried my suitcase up the stairs, and Vivian turned to Thomas. “Thomas, honey, could you help me bring in the groceries?”

“Of course,” he said, and after a quick glance at me, he turned and headed for the door.

I floated to the parlor window and watched him as he walked across the driveway to Vivian’s truck. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from him; it was like watching a ghost.

“Devin, honey,” I heard Vivian say, “would you help Thomas bring in the rest of the groceries? There’s something upstairs I need to show Aria.”

Through the window, I watched Devin walk outside and meet Thomas at the truck, where they pulled bags of groceries from the bed. Devin was saying something to Thomas, but I couldn’t hear what.

“Aria!” I swung around to see Vivian halfway up the stairs, waving for me to follow. I peeled myself from the window and followed her upstairs.

When I first stepped into my old room, I didn’t recognize it. My antique white furniture was the same, but the walls were covered in gold and purple damask wallpaper, and the bed was buried beneath a skirt of flounced purple satin and a mountain of ruffled, embroidered pillows. Matching curtains hung over the window, and Vivian’s doll collection was scattered about the room, on my desk, dresser, nightstand, and window seat. But my room didn’t matter. There were more important issues at hand than my old room being transformed into a doll museum.

I sat beside Vivian on the bed and unleashed all my questions. “Why is he here? Where has he been? When did he get here?” My breaths were shallow, and I still felt light-headed.

“Calm down, sweetheart.” She put her arm around me and pulled me close, speaking with quiet urgency. “All I know is this. He showed up here last night, and believe me, I was as surprised as you. He and your daddy went back into the guest bedroom and they talked for a long time. And they talked so quiet, I couldn’t hear what they were saying, even with my ear pressed to the door. And when I asked your daddy about it later, he was not very specific about what they’d talked about. But what I did find out from Thomas is that he’s been in the Netherlands these last couple years.”

“What?” I asked incredulously.

“Yeah. I guess he was doing some kind of fishin’ or somethin’.”

“Fishing,” I repeated in disbelief. “In the Netherlands.” An unexpected surge of anger pulsed through my veins. I had spent the last two years in anguish over him, wondering where he was, worrying that he was dead, and he was
fishing?
“Well, why is he here then?” I hissed.

“He said something about needing to finish up some business.”

The words only added fuel to my burning rage. So he was here on business, and he wanted to drop in and say hi. “But why is he
here
? In my dad’s house?”

“Well, he was stayin’ in a hotel, but your daddy insisted that he get his stuff and stay here.”

“
Dad
insisted? Why?”

“I don’t know why. But he’s staying in the room right next to yours.”

“But there’s not a bed.”

“There is now. We had so much extra furniture when we moved all my stuff in here.” She let out an anxious sigh. “Oh, honey, I didn’t know you’d be bringing Devin, and I thought you’d be happy to see Thomas. Do you want me to just tell him to go?”

“I . . . I don’t know.” I pictured Thomas leaving, and the thought made me panicky. “No. I need to talk to him. Did he say why he didn’t call, or write, or let me know where he was?”

“No, I haven’t had much chance to talk to him at all. He was gone this morning when I woke up, and then I went shopping, so this is the first time I’ve seen him today.”

“Where did he go this morning?”

“I don’t know, honey. But, listen, what do you want me to tell Devin? I mean, who should I say Thomas is?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. I mean, he is an old family friend, I guess.”

“Done.” She patted my knee and stood up to leave. “I better go get dinner started.”

“Vivian,” I said, standing and holding open my arms. “It’s good to see you.”

She took me in her arms and pecked me on the cheek. “It’s good to see you too, darlin’. You look wonderful, by the way.”

“Where’s my dad?”

“At work until tomorrow morning.”

I had to admit, I was more than relieved I wouldn’t have to deal with two awkward reunions in the same day.

Vivian went downstairs, and I fell back on my bed and stared at the ceiling, marinating in my anger. Every tear I’d cried, every pain I’d suffered over Thomas had been made
in vain by four little words.
Fishing. In. The. Netherlands.
A storm of emotion gathered inside me, building pressure with each quickening breath.

I heard Devin’s voice downstairs, and I wondered how long it would be before he came upstairs for me. I didn’t want him to see me this way. A major meltdown was on its way, and I needed some privacy. I jumped up and flung open my suitcase, grabbed some clothes and toiletries, and rushed across the hall to the bathroom, where I locked the door behind me. There was only one place right now where I wouldn’t be disturbed. I turned on the shower and stripped off my clothes, then stepped in and sat in the cold porcelain tub. I pulled my knees to my chest and let the water run over me. It grew warmer, and gave me the cocoon I needed to grieve in secret. I lowered my head into my arms and released quiet sobs, letting the water wash away my tears.

How could I have mistaken his feelings for me? He must not have cared about me as much as I thought he did if he could so easily brush me off and leave the country without a word. Two years without a word. Two years without a thought of me. While I spent countless tears and sleepless nights on him. I felt betrayed and deceived, stupid and gullible for believing that he loved me. I was relieved that he was back, to know that he was okay. But I was furious that he let me believe that he loved me and that he would return to me. He had returned, but a year and a half late, and only to take care of business. The sharpness of that truth stung me to the core.

I cried until the water grew cold, then I forced myself to stand and quickly wash my hair. I got out and wrapped a towel around me, then looked in the mirror and took a
deep breath. I would be mature about this. I didn’t know why he was here, but I didn’t want him to know how much he had hurt me. I wanted him to see that I was happy with Devin, and that he would never have the ability to hurt me again.

Wanting to postpone the awkward dinner I knew was before me, I took my time getting ready. I put on a fitting red sweater with elbow-length ruched sleeves and dark jeans. I dried my long hair with a diffuser to bring out the natural waves, then made sure my bangs were swept perfectly across my forehead. Makeup was next, followed by simple silver earrings. I took one last look in the mirror, pleased with how pretty I looked.