“Good,” Shane said, and they talked about how to sit properly with his back getting the support he needed so that he wasn’t completely exhausted at the end of his concert.
Just then a man walked up and went straight to the piano. They watched in fascination as he opened it right up.
Shane asked, “Are you supposed to be working on that?”
The man, surprised to hear somebody talking to him, turned, looked at the two men, and said, “Oh, hi. Yeah, I’m here to tune it. Sounds like somebody here wants to play it, so they hired me to get it fixed. Looks like it’s been a while.”
Lance could feel something really bloom inside him. “Did Dani do that for me?” he asked Shane.
Shane slid him a sideways look. “Everybody here cares about your recovery,” he said. “It’s a simple-enough thing to do, and, yes, it sounds very much like her,” he said, laughing. “So, enjoy. I don’t know when it’ll be ready for you to play, and I doubt you can just sit down and run off a few songs, but it’s something for you to consider. Maybe next weekend?”
Lance really wanted to walk over there and place his fingers on the ivories. It had been years since he’d played the piano, and it had always been one of the best mediums for him. It was a completely different kind of instrument from the guitar and even the trumpet. He loved them all, but, at the same time, something was just so special about playing a piano. As it was, his session with Shane was almost over, and it was hard to leave, but, as he wheeled away from the piano tuner, he turned and asked him, “When will you be done with that?”
“I’ll be a good couple hours here yet,” he said, “but definitely by the end of day.”
“Perfect, thanks,” he said. He looked up at Shane. “I guess Dani would know if it’s me, wouldn’t she?”
“Most likely, if you’re any good, yes,” he said, laughing. “But you can bet this may flush out a few other guys who want to sit down and pound on the keys. And some of them may be good too.”
“That would be amazing,” he said. “I love sitting down and playing impromptu sessions,” he said, “just jamming with a few friends. There’s nothing like it.”
“Sounds like my version, minus the musical instruments and your talent, with a couple guys hanging around the barbecue with a couple beers,” he said.
“Almost,” he said, “I’ve had lots of friends over the years who played, but I don’t know anybody right now who does.”
“That’s okay,” Shane said, “maybe you’ll meet one or two here.”
Chapter 11
As it neared four o’clock, Jessica got nervous. Maybe she shouldn’t have started this. Maybe he wasn’t ready. Maybe she was pushing him? She didn’t know why she was so nervous, but she was. She walked into the cafeteria to see Dennis handing out ice cream cones again. She looked at him and said, “You know that it wouldn’t be so hard to keep the weight down if you would stop feeding us so well.”
He laughed. “There’s no such thing,” he said. “If you just added a little exercise or walked a little more,” he said, “you could afford a few hundred more calories.”
“The trouble is,” she said, in a low whisper, as she accepted the ice cream cone, “a hundred calories is a cookie. Something as delectable as this,” she said, as she held up the cone, “has got to be more like five or six hundred calories.”
He grinned. “A little less, but yeah,” he replied.
She rolled her eyes at him. “As if I could resist ice cream. I’ve been trying to stick to veggies and protein as it is,” she said.
“Well, whatever you’re doing, it’s working,” he said. “I haven’t seen you gain an ounce since you got here. Of course, you’ve also been working at a dead run day in and day out too.”
“Well, there’s that. But most of us staffers are aware of how easy it would be to pack on the pounds, courtesy of your kitchen, so we’re extra mindful,” she said with a laugh. Taking her ice cream, she walked back to the common area and realized a few of the chairs had been rearranged to not only allow for wheelchairs to come in but also for people to sit and just listen. And the piano was open and had been polished. She walked over and ran her fingers over the beautiful white keys. They made a lovely set of scales, but she had absolutely no idea how to play. Wouldn’t it be nice if she did?
She sat down on the piano bench, facing the room, and enjoyed her ice cream cone. A few people arrived at about a quarter to four, and she wasn’t sure if they were coming for the concert or if they were just coming because it was the common room and available when they wanted to be away from their rooms. She understood that very well.
By the time the scheduled concert hour neared, her ice cream was gone, and she’d slipped out and picked up coffee. She was seated once more on the piano bench, when she watched Lance roll his wheelchair to the front, then carefully shift over to the chair he had picked to use for today. He had the guitar with him, he looked over at her with a smile and said, “Well, I guess it’s time, isn’t it?”
She nodded.
