lake hadn’t flushed her out. Shit. He’d embarrassed himself by kissing her and didn’t get the end result he wanted. He’d have to stay away now. No more flirting with Goldy. Soon she’d leave and he’d become someone else.
Scanning the perimeter, he noted that something was different but couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Everything looked the same. He left the grocery bags in the truck, and silently crept to the side door of the house. With his ear to the door, he listened.
A faint murmur of voices came from inside. There’d been no sign of a vehicle on the property. Stealing along the side of the house, he peeked over the window ledge knowing he’d left the drapes open on this side. And there they were. Standing in the middle of the kitchen. Waiting for him. Three bodies looking drastically out of place in the rustic log house.
When he barged through the door, they looked like cornered rabbits and he knew at that moment it would be easy. Easier than the others.
****
Nikki positioned herself with a ham and cheese sandwich at her elbow and watched the scene in the film she was both looking forward to and dreading. The music she wrote for this part of the movie would determine the film’s entire score. It was the pivotal moment in the story and she hoped to draw a melody from it, a hook to haunt the entire film. The audience would walk out of the theatre humming it and when it played at the Academy Awards, the poignancy of the music would insure tears. Nikki had to make it memorable.
She studied the scene on her computer, playing the piano as it progressed. Nothing came that reflected the emotion needed. She had to put herself in the main character’s place, to feel the horror of the woman who’d been asked to give her child to another woman to save her town’s decimation. The childless wife of the Nazi commander had made a deal with her husband to spare the people of the town if the prisoner woman gave them her baby. She had to.
Thinking about Quinn, Nikki remembered how sweet she’d been as a baby. One of the hardest things she’d ever done in her life was to leave her child in a nanny’s care for days on end, in order to fulfill her obligations as Goldy. Poor Quinny had had such a rotten mother. No wonder her child had experimented with drugs at the age of fifteen, gone to rehab at sixteen, and had her own sponsor at AA at the age of seventeen. Thank God she’d been sober and drug-free for the last nineteen months.
Nikki found herself sympathizing with the anguish of the heroine. From deep within, the pain of the mother’s choice gripped her heart and twisted it until notes poured out of her and filled the room with emotion. As she played, she found something lingering on the edge of her mind. She repeated it and continued, playing the eight bars over and over then built on it, filling in notes where necessary. Working it over, adding notes, slowing it down, repeating passages. Finally she hit the record button to lay down a rough track of what she hoped would be the base of the melody. After years of writing, Nikki no longer questioned how she found the music. Notes arrived from somewhere she couldn’t explain and, as they surfaced, she played them.
Finished for now, she laid her head down on the cool, polished surface of the Steinway, her tears pooling where they fell beside her face. In her half-slump, Nikki’s hand went to her belly. She wanted this baby with everything she had in her heart. These tears had nothing to do with the music she’d just written, they were filled with the knowledge that her child would be the heart of who she was and nothing would take that away from her. Not this time. Burn had given her one child and they’d agreed that was it. Goldy’s focus on work had been necessary to too many people back then for her to have “a brood of kids running around,” he’d said.
Nikki walked down the grassy lawn to the dock, watching the moon’s ascension from the
Scanning the perimeter, he noted that something was different but couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Everything looked the same. He left the grocery bags in the truck, and silently crept to the side door of the house. With his ear to the door, he listened.
A faint murmur of voices came from inside. There’d been no sign of a vehicle on the property. Stealing along the side of the house, he peeked over the window ledge knowing he’d left the drapes open on this side. And there they were. Standing in the middle of the kitchen. Waiting for him. Three bodies looking drastically out of place in the rustic log house.
When he barged through the door, they looked like cornered rabbits and he knew at that moment it would be easy. Easier than the others.
****
Nikki positioned herself with a ham and cheese sandwich at her elbow and watched the scene in the film she was both looking forward to and dreading. The music she wrote for this part of the movie would determine the film’s entire score. It was the pivotal moment in the story and she hoped to draw a melody from it, a hook to haunt the entire film. The audience would walk out of the theatre humming it and when it played at the Academy Awards, the poignancy of the music would insure tears. Nikki had to make it memorable.
She studied the scene on her computer, playing the piano as it progressed. Nothing came that reflected the emotion needed. She had to put herself in the main character’s place, to feel the horror of the woman who’d been asked to give her child to another woman to save her town’s decimation. The childless wife of the Nazi commander had made a deal with her husband to spare the people of the town if the prisoner woman gave them her baby. She had to.
Thinking about Quinn, Nikki remembered how sweet she’d been as a baby. One of the hardest things she’d ever done in her life was to leave her child in a nanny’s care for days on end, in order to fulfill her obligations as Goldy. Poor Quinny had had such a rotten mother. No wonder her child had experimented with drugs at the age of fifteen, gone to rehab at sixteen, and had her own sponsor at AA at the age of seventeen. Thank God she’d been sober and drug-free for the last nineteen months.
Nikki found herself sympathizing with the anguish of the heroine. From deep within, the pain of the mother’s choice gripped her heart and twisted it until notes poured out of her and filled the room with emotion. As she played, she found something lingering on the edge of her mind. She repeated it and continued, playing the eight bars over and over then built on it, filling in notes where necessary. Working it over, adding notes, slowing it down, repeating passages. Finally she hit the record button to lay down a rough track of what she hoped would be the base of the melody. After years of writing, Nikki no longer questioned how she found the music. Notes arrived from somewhere she couldn’t explain and, as they surfaced, she played them.
Finished for now, she laid her head down on the cool, polished surface of the Steinway, her tears pooling where they fell beside her face. In her half-slump, Nikki’s hand went to her belly. She wanted this baby with everything she had in her heart. These tears had nothing to do with the music she’d just written, they were filled with the knowledge that her child would be the heart of who she was and nothing would take that away from her. Not this time. Burn had given her one child and they’d agreed that was it. Goldy’s focus on work had been necessary to too many people back then for her to have “a brood of kids running around,” he’d said.
Nikki walked down the grassy lawn to the dock, watching the moon’s ascension from the
Similar Books
