Page 42 of My Sweetest Temptation

“Exactly. And what is the purpose of the staff?”

“It represents a different pitch,” Sam answered.

“Right. Let’s start with the lines on the treble clef. Do you know which notes they represent?” I asked her, pointing to the music sheet.

“E, G, B, D, F,” Sam replied.

“That’s right. And what about these?” I prompted, using my fingers to trace the lines from the bottom to top.

She grinned. “FACE!” Sam exclaimed.

“Great job!” I laughed. “F, A, C, and E. Let’s try something a little different. Can you spot a sharp note on this page?”

Sam inched forward, the lines in her forehead creased as if she were searching for Waldo. “Um...is it this one?” She pointed to the sharp sign to the left of the note.

“Yes, that’s right. Now, using your violin, can you play the F sharp?”

Sam positioned her fingers on the strings and plucked the note. “Did I do it?”

“Yes, you did! Let’s combine some of these notes.”

Sam and I played the notes together for “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” until she was comfortable playing on her own.

I watched as Sam began to play, her bow gliding smoothly across the strings. The notes came out unevenly at first, but with each repetition, she grew more confident.

When she finished, I clapped enthusiastically. “That was fantastic, Sam! You’re going to be a pro by the end of our session.”

Sam beamed, her earlier anxieties thrown out the window. “That would be so awesome!”

Sam grew more confident after a few more readings of the music notes. By the end of our session, she could play the entire song without any issues and all on her own.

I slid the bow across the strings of my violin, letting the familiar notes of “Hallelujah” wash over me. As I closed my eyes, I felt myself drifting through a sky filled with memories. I saw the day Dad taught me how to ride my bike, his patient smile as I wobbled and fell. Then there was Mom, her face lighting up when she brought home my first violin, her laughter in my mind like a sweet melody. I missed her smile, her laughter, and those quiet moments when she’d hold me close as if she could read my heart and knew I needed her without me saying a word.

The memories shifted, and suddenly, I was with my father again, his steady hand guiding me through life’s little adventures. I missed those lazy afternoons spent watching his favorite football games, the sound of the crowd cheering echoing in our home. And then there was that time one spring break when we ran through the rain after a long day of fishing, soaked to the skin but laughing like fools. He taught me how to cast a line and about the joy of watching a kite soar, the string slipping through my fingers as the wind caught it just right.

I pressed down on the highest string, letting the bow dance along with the notes, following the rhythm as it guided me. I repeated the motions a few more times until the last notes faded into the air. When I finally opened my eyes, the tears that had been building spill over, rushing down my cheeks like a dam had broken. The pain and heartache of losing my parents haunted me, a relentless shadow.

“I am so proud of you.”

“You will always be my daughter.”

“Please remember that your father and I did everything we could to protect you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t prepare you for when this day would come.”

“I need you to stay alive.”

“I love you.”

A loud, persistent knocking at the door broke my thoughts into a thousand pieces. I set the violin down, wiping my face before walking to the door. The knocking came again, more insistent this time. When I finally opened it, Tabi and her little boy, Tristan, stood there, grinning like they had just won a prize they were eager to share.

“Hey,” I said, forcing a smile. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We came to invite you to go out to eat with us. Right, Tris?” Tabi glanced down at her son.

He nodded enthusiastically, his little grin stretching wide. “Yep!”

“Come in,” I said, stepping aside.

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