Songs without Words by Robbi McCoy

Maybe that was why Danny had become a priest. Maybe it was his way of rebelling against their father. And maybe that was why Harper had been able to question her faith from an early age, to view it critically and then to reject it.
    Her father seemed pleased with her accomplishments, but it was impossible for her to be reassured when their two disciplines of endeavor were so far removed from one another. He did sometimes say things that she thought were designed to bolster her confidence. “Art and science go hand in hand,” he had told her, “as the forerunners of human culture. Neither can flourish without the other. Both Einstein and Bach are equally relevant in the shaping of human evolution.” She had always felt that he was just being kind and keeping his deep disappointment hidden from her. Whatever else he said, the message she had gotten as a child was that if she couldn’t do calculus, she was mentally deficient.
    She thought it was odd the way her father was spending his retirement. After a career filled with intense mental stimulation, he now did almost nothing other than go fishing. He went almost every day, and he spent long hours at it. He had given up science and all types of study completely. His only explanation, when someone tried to engage him in a math problem or a discussion of quantum mechanics, was, “I’ve put in my time. Leave me be.”
    As was customary when her father was nearby during these phone conversations, he popped on the line briefly to say hello. He wasn’t much of a phone person, so he was on and off without ceremony. “Hey, Harper,” he said, dropping the first “r” in her name as usual. To his children, especially Neil, John Sheridan’s Boston version of her name had sounded like “Hopper” and had encouraged his kung-fu crazy son to nickname her “Grasshopper.” During the Seventies, Neil had often teased her with the condescending remark, “You still have much to learn, Grasshopper.” And, of course, when Danny was old enough, he picked up on the nickname too, even though he wasn’t familiar with the television series that had inspired it.
    “Hi, Dad,” she said, “how are you?”
    “Good, good,” he said. “How’s my little girl?”
    In a moment, after a few words about how glad she was to be on summer vacation, he was gone and Harper’s mother was back on the line.
    “Oh, I’ve been trying to remember to tell you something,” Alice said. “Peggy Drummond has moved back here.”
    “Peggy?” Harper was alert at the mention of her childhood friend.
    “Yes. Her mother has really gone downhill lately. Kate’s sort of senile, you know. She can’t live alone anymore.”
    “So Peggy’s moved in with her mother?”
    “Yes. Quite a surprise, isn’t it? I don’t think she’s even been here to visit once since her father died about, oh, four years ago now. And I don’t blame her, considering how Kate behaved at the funeral. You know, it was always Peggy’s mother who disapproved. It wasn’t her father at all. It was such a shame, I always thought, that Peggy and her father should be kept apart by Kate’s small-mindedness.”
    “How long has she been back?”
    “I believe they moved here in March.”
    “They?” Harper asked. “You mean Peggy’s partner is there too?”
    “Uh-huh. Do you think the sky is gonna fall? The three of them are living together, happy as clams. Peggy’s still looking for a job. Considering that she was a pricey engineer in California, that could take a while, unless she’s willing to take a significant pay cut. But her partner, I think her name is Christine or Kristin or something like that, she’s a registered nurse, so she’s already gotten on at the hospital. And that’s perfect, of course, for the situation. A live-in nurse when you’re old and sickly, well, what could be better?”
    “So have you seen her? Have you talked to her?”
    “Yes. I talked to her a couple of weeks ago. I told her you were coming