five-dollar bill. “I understand it will take many hours of your time and I am grateful.”
Leland looked at the bill but shook his head. “I won’t be able to start on the desk for at least two months, but I’ll do my best. I can’t take any payment now. Perhaps you can come by in a few weeks, bring your wife if you’d like and choose the stain for the wood.”
“Thank you, I will do that,” Shunsaku said. “Emika, we’re ready to go now.”
“The pretty ballerina is still dancing, Daddy.” She pointed and stood on her tiptoes again for a closer look at the music box.
“She will dance for you again next time, okay?” Leland said.
Emika smiled and took her father’s hand. With a wave, she walked out of the shop. Leland stood in the doorway watching the father and daughter walk down the street. Emika skipped and giggled as the wind blew dark strands of hair around her face.
Once they were out of sight, Leland’s cheeks trembled against his firm jawline. Wiping his nose with the sleeve of his flannel shirt, Leland let the door close and turned to face the music box. His chest constricted as he thought about Shunsaku’s words, “We do not dwell on the past.”
The gold embossed edge of the music box was covered with the fine grit of sawdust, and Leland knew this was no place for it, but he had his reasons. The side compartment opened noiselessly. Leland stared at the bent corner of the red velvet paper. It felt fuzzy under his fingertips like the back of one of those fat black caterpillars. He knew the words, but he looked anyway, studying the careful scripts of two different people who knew about loss. “Don’t die with me.” “Forgive yourself—allow God to forgive.”
“I’m doing better, Jessie—Rhonda. I’m doing better now.”
Chapter 9 ~ The Performance
March 1945 ~ Evelyn
Ever the businessman, Frank took advantage of the hour and a half before Evelyn sang to have her work her regular duties as hostess. She stood in front of a flashy poster announcing “Tonight, our debut talent will be your lovely hostess Evelyn!”
Her cheeks grew warm from the gushing excitement of family and friends who had come to hear her sing. A flutter of anticipation stirred in her stomach, and Evelyn hoped she would be able to keep her voice from trembling with anxiety.
“LaRue, I need to go get ready in about twenty minutes. Can you tell Philip?”
“Sure, hon, we can’t wait to hear you.” She patted Evelyn’s arm as she sashayed by. “You’ll do great.”
“Thanks,” Evelyn murmured. She straightened the menus and made notes on the reservation list until she heard the squeaky hinge on the door. Her eyes crinkled with a smile when she saw Sterling shuffle in with his guitar case. He held out a rose.
“I wanted to wish the most beautiful lady good luck tonight.”
Evelyn took the rose and tucked it into the glass vial holding her pencils. “I might get stage fright and my accompanist will have to do a guitar solo,” she teased.
Sterling grinned. “Are you ready to practice?”
Before she could answer, a boisterous group of three men entered and approached. One with blond hair and wearing his dress uniform whistled when he saw her. “Hello, I thought the name of this place was just for fun, but looking at you I can see you’ve got to be my silver lining. What time do you get off?”
Evelyn smiled the way LaRue and Frank had instructed her to and replied, “Not till late. Do you have a reservation?”
The blond man jostled his buddies and chuckled. He lurched forward and grabbed Evelyn’s hand. “Late is good for me. What time can I meet you?”
She looked down at the tablet where her fine handwriting indicated the expected guests that night. A group of three for seven o’clock caught her eye. “Let me guess, you must be Harlan, Michael, and Blaine. Can I show you to your table?” She raised her head and caught the blond with a simmering gaze.
“I’m Harlan, and I’d like
Leland looked at the bill but shook his head. “I won’t be able to start on the desk for at least two months, but I’ll do my best. I can’t take any payment now. Perhaps you can come by in a few weeks, bring your wife if you’d like and choose the stain for the wood.”
“Thank you, I will do that,” Shunsaku said. “Emika, we’re ready to go now.”
“The pretty ballerina is still dancing, Daddy.” She pointed and stood on her tiptoes again for a closer look at the music box.
“She will dance for you again next time, okay?” Leland said.
Emika smiled and took her father’s hand. With a wave, she walked out of the shop. Leland stood in the doorway watching the father and daughter walk down the street. Emika skipped and giggled as the wind blew dark strands of hair around her face.
Once they were out of sight, Leland’s cheeks trembled against his firm jawline. Wiping his nose with the sleeve of his flannel shirt, Leland let the door close and turned to face the music box. His chest constricted as he thought about Shunsaku’s words, “We do not dwell on the past.”
The gold embossed edge of the music box was covered with the fine grit of sawdust, and Leland knew this was no place for it, but he had his reasons. The side compartment opened noiselessly. Leland stared at the bent corner of the red velvet paper. It felt fuzzy under his fingertips like the back of one of those fat black caterpillars. He knew the words, but he looked anyway, studying the careful scripts of two different people who knew about loss. “Don’t die with me.” “Forgive yourself—allow God to forgive.”
“I’m doing better, Jessie—Rhonda. I’m doing better now.”
Chapter 9 ~ The Performance
March 1945 ~ Evelyn
Ever the businessman, Frank took advantage of the hour and a half before Evelyn sang to have her work her regular duties as hostess. She stood in front of a flashy poster announcing “Tonight, our debut talent will be your lovely hostess Evelyn!”
Her cheeks grew warm from the gushing excitement of family and friends who had come to hear her sing. A flutter of anticipation stirred in her stomach, and Evelyn hoped she would be able to keep her voice from trembling with anxiety.
“LaRue, I need to go get ready in about twenty minutes. Can you tell Philip?”
“Sure, hon, we can’t wait to hear you.” She patted Evelyn’s arm as she sashayed by. “You’ll do great.”
“Thanks,” Evelyn murmured. She straightened the menus and made notes on the reservation list until she heard the squeaky hinge on the door. Her eyes crinkled with a smile when she saw Sterling shuffle in with his guitar case. He held out a rose.
“I wanted to wish the most beautiful lady good luck tonight.”
Evelyn took the rose and tucked it into the glass vial holding her pencils. “I might get stage fright and my accompanist will have to do a guitar solo,” she teased.
Sterling grinned. “Are you ready to practice?”
Before she could answer, a boisterous group of three men entered and approached. One with blond hair and wearing his dress uniform whistled when he saw her. “Hello, I thought the name of this place was just for fun, but looking at you I can see you’ve got to be my silver lining. What time do you get off?”
Evelyn smiled the way LaRue and Frank had instructed her to and replied, “Not till late. Do you have a reservation?”
The blond man jostled his buddies and chuckled. He lurched forward and grabbed Evelyn’s hand. “Late is good for me. What time can I meet you?”
She looked down at the tablet where her fine handwriting indicated the expected guests that night. A group of three for seven o’clock caught her eye. “Let me guess, you must be Harlan, Michael, and Blaine. Can I show you to your table?” She raised her head and caught the blond with a simmering gaze.
“I’m Harlan, and I’d like
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