The Curse Оf Hollister House
- Автор: Дэйли Кэти
- Серия: A Cat In The Attic Mystery #1
- Год: 2019
- Язык: английский
- Год: Kathi Daley Books
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «The Curse Оf Hollister House». Краткое содержание книги:
“Who’s that?” Paisley had come up behind me, and now she pointed to a photo of my parents. “The lady looks just like you.”
“That’s my mother, and the handsome devil next to her is my father.”
“They don’t live here anymore?”
I slowly moved my head from left to right. “No. They don’t live here. They were killed in a car accident when I was four years old. Aunt Gracie raised me, which is why I grew up here.”
I slipped down onto the floor, crossing my legs in front of me. I slowly turned the pages of the old album, desperately trying to remember people I simply couldn’t. Sure, I was able to pull up small frames of memory, but the pictures in my mind were totally devoid of emotion.
“How was it being raised by someone who was not your mother?” Paisley asked after a while.
That seemed like a mature question to be coming from a ten-year-old.
“I don’t remember a lot of things from that time. I was only four, but I do remember being sad and scared. But then Aunt Gracie brought me up here and showed me all the magical things she had stored. I spent a lot of time up here pretending, and then, as time went by, things got better. I remember my childhood as being a happy one if that is what you are asking.”
Paisley sat down next to me. She leaned her head against my shoulder. “My grandma is going to raise me when my mom dies.”
I turned slightly to give the child my full attention. “I know you said your mom was sick. I didn’t realize she was dying. I’m so sorry.”
“Everyone is trying to protect me. They keep saying that the doctor is waiting on a miracle to help him know what to do to make Mom better. At first, I wasn’t worried, but then I heard Mom and Grandma talking. They didn’t know I was listening. Mom was telling Grandma that there was nothing more the doctors could do. She was telling her that it would be up to her to take care of me when she was gone. Grandma kept trying to tell her not to give up. She said they just needed a miracle and everything would be fine. I don’t think Mom believed her, though. She was crying like her heart was breaking.”
Oh, God. Now my heart was breaking. I fought the tightness in my chest. I knew that what I said at this point was probably going to be important, but I had no idea what it was going to be. I decided I had to speak from my heart. “I don’t know what is going to happen with your mother, but I do agree with your grandmother that sometimes when all hope seems gone, depending on a miracle is really all you can do.” I looked down at my hand. “During those first awful days and weeks after my car accident, the doctors told me I would never again have use of this hand. They said that all the nerves had been severed and I would never even be able to use my fingers.” I held up my hand and wiggled my fingers. “But see, they were wrong. Everyone said that it is a miracle that I have any use of my hand at all. My doctor said there is no medical explanation for the fact that my ability to use my fingers and manipulate my hand is slowly returning. Do you know what you have when something that is impossible happens?”
“A miracle?”
“Exactly. I don’t know why some people get miracles, and some don’t. To be honest, I’ve always struggled with the big questions. But I do know that if you define a miracle as the existence of something that should not have happened but did, then from my own experience, I know they are possible.”
Paisley wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “So even if the doctor thinks there is no hope, that doesn’t mean that a miracle can’t happen?”
“Exactly. And even if it doesn’t, even if your mom’s time here on this earth is up, I also know it is possible to find happiness despite the circumstance. I was happy here with Aunt Gracie, and I bet you can be happy with your grandmother. I’ve never met her, but I have a feeling she is nice. Very nice.”
Paisley nodded. “She is. And she smells good too. Like vanilla.” Paisley looked down at my hand. She ran a finger over my scar. “Does it hurt?”
“Not really. Sometimes it gets tingly, and that can be irritating, but the doctor said it is my nerves coming back to life. I might always have to deal with the tingly feeling, but if I can regain full use of the hand, it will be worth it.”
“So you can go back to work?”
I slowly shook my head. “No. I’ll never again be able to play the piano at that level. But it will be nice to be able to do other things like pick up a pin that has dropped to the floor.”
“Can’t you use your other hand to pick up a pin?”
“Well, sure. It’s just that… Oh, never mind. Let’s just say the more I can wiggle my fingers, the happier I’ll be.”
Paisley hugged me. “I’ll pray for a miracle for you too.”
I had to admit I was surprised by that. I hugged the girl back. “Thank you. I appreciate that, and I’ll pray for a miracle for your mom.” I slowly stood up. “In the meantime, I guess we should get back to this.”
Over the next couple of hours, Paisley and I worked side by side. We chatted and laughed, and I shared memories that were ignited by the contents of almost every box we came across. It was good to revisit the time in my life when I supposed I’d been happiest. I didn’t remember much of anything about the first four years of my life, and once I’d committed to a life as a concert pianist, happiness had been replaced with obsession, but for a while, as a child and a teen living here at the lake, I’d been happy. Really, really happy.
“Look at this,” Paisley screeched, breaking me out of my daydream. “It’s a piano.” She pulled the sheet aside and tapped out a few keys.
I crossed the room. “This is the piano I first learned to play on. Eventually, Gracie bought the piano that is in her living room now, but it was on this old piano where I first fell in love with the melodies that surged through my soul.”
“Can you play me something?”
I glanced down at my hand. “Oh no, I can’t. Not anymore.”
Paisley frowned. “Why not? Did you forget how?”
“No, I didn’t forget how, but my fingers, while on the mend, don’t work as well as they used to.”
Paisley ran her hand along the keys. “Can you do that?”
“Well, sure.”
“Will you?”
I took a deep breath. Would I? Well, that was a question I didn’t want to answer.
“Please.”
I pulled up the old bench and sat down. Paisley sat down beside me. I ran my fingers over the keys. “Happy?”
“Will you play a song? It can be an easy one. Mary Had a Little Lamb? That’s the song everyone starts with.”
“Okay, one song. One easy song.” I played John Lennon’s Imagine.
“Wow,” Paisley said. “That was so good. Play another one.”
“We agreed on one.”
“I know. But it was so good. And you were smiling. You liked it too.”
Did I? Was it even possible to find joy in music once again, given my limitations? Imagine was an easy song to play even with fingers that wouldn’t always cooperate.
“Please,” Paisley said.
“Okay. But I’m going to need your help.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Really?”
“Really. Sit here on my left side.”
She moved to the other side of the bench.
“I’m going to play the right side, and you play the left.”
“But I don’t know how to play the piano.”
“This song is easy. Just four notes that repeat in the same pattern. Here, I’ll show you.”
Somewhere during that afternoon, while Paisley and I came up with a way to work together to create what I thought was some pretty great music, I found the fire I thought had died. When I was a child sitting at this piano, I’d played horribly, but I’d played from a place of love and connection. Somewhere along the way, that love and connection had been replaced by dedication and the search for perfection. I’d enjoyed my career while I’d had it, but when I’d shut out the imperfect melodies created by the music in my soul in favor of mechanical perfection, I’d lost the connection to my heart. Maybe, after all this time, it was waiting to be found once again.