Page 44 of One Last Regret

She bursts into tears. Gabriel holds her close and gives me a bleak look. I sit next to her and say, “None of this is your fault, Amelia.Noneof it.”

“Yes it is,” she insists, rubbing tears from her eyes. “I just… I was sobored. I hate being here in this stupid house with all the stupid people talking about music and business and asking us all the time about Grandpa… like… it’s just annoying! We’re kids! We’re cooped up here doing nothing, and…” she sniffles and wipes more tears from her eyes. “I just thought it would be funny. I know everyone talks about the legend of the curse, and when I saw you holding the cursed piece, I thought it would be funny to have Gabriel play it and watch everyone freak out. But then Claudedied, and…”

“Henri threw the sheet music away,” I blurt out. “It’s gone.”

They both look at me. Amelia’s eyes are wide with hope. Gabriel’s with horror. I take note of that, but I’ll deal with it later.

“Really?” she asks. “It’s gone?”

"It's gone. He threw it away. You'll never have to worry about it again." I put my hands on her shoulders and say, "but listen to me, Amelia. The music was never the problem. There is no such thing as curses. There is no such thing as vengeful spirits. What happened to Claude was a terrible accident. What happenedduring Mardi Gras was the result of my very irresponsible decision to take two grieving children out to a party that they had no business attending. And what happened to Audrey is only a tragedy. Grief affects people terribly, and we often fight to look for explanations, but sometimes there is no explanation. Sometimes bad things just happen. It’s horrible, painful and tragic. But it’s not magic.”

She looks away from me, her lips trembling. I tilt her eyes back up to mine and say, “I’m glad the music is gone, but you need to realize that bad things will happen whether or not there’s a cursed piece of music to make it happen. But guess what? So will good things. So willgreatthings. The wonderful thing about life is that there is good along with the bad. And just like we can't stop all of the bad things, we can't stop all of the good things either. Those, too, will happen whether we want them to or not. So let's enjoy the good things, like ice cream, movies and good company."

She smiles at me, a half-smile but a real one. Then she throws her arms around me and squeezes me tightly. I hold her just as tightly and feel a great deal of my own fear disappear. When I release her, I bring the ice cream to the children, and we finish the movie. The racecar eventually learns his lesson, of course, and decides to move to the small town with his new friends. It’s a simple, silly, heartwarming story, and it’s exactly what these children need.

***

After the children are asleep, I head downstairs and make myself some tea. This time, I need soothing warmth rather than rich boldness.

Rain is falling outside. A thunderstorm has moved in after sunset, but it is the soft, soothing kind of storm. The rainis steady but not torrential, and the lightning and thunder is distant.

I take my tea to the parlor and sit on one of the couches. The room is clean now save for the charred husk of the piano. Things are moving back to normal. Even the rain feels as though it’s washing the memory of Mardi Gras away and giving New Orleans a chance to reset after what I’m sure was a trying night for many.

I am exhausted as well, but sleep won’t find me for a while, I fear. I reflect on what I tell Amelia earlier. Sometimes bad things just happen. Sometimes there is no explanation. Sometimes thereisan explanation, and we’re just not meant to know it.

I hate that. I hate that I might never know what happened to Annie or ever truly understand why she left. I hate that I might have to accept that I’m wasting my time looking for the truth.

But what can I do, really? When I look back on my life, I have to admit that I’m happier accepting than I am searching.

I suppose what makes it difficult is accepting that Annie was happier living without me than with me. My memories lately have all been of the worst of our childhood, but most of the time we spent together was good. Most days we weren’t rivals or enemies. We were friends. We were companions. We were sisters. And it hurts me immensely that Annie preferred to live her life without her sister.

A loud thunderclap causes me to flinch and spill some of my tea onto my lap. The heat shocks me out of my melancholy. I grimace and set my tea on the coffee table in front of me, then utter an oath that would amuse Sean greatly if he heard it.

I stand so I can return to the kitchen for a napkin, but before I can take a step, another thunderclap sounds, and the house is bathed in darkness.

For a frightening moment, I think that I’m having another nightmare, but when I start to flee and only succeed in bangingmy shin on the coffee table, the pain assures me that I am very much awake. This isn’t a nightmare, just a thunderstorm. The power has gone out.

I hiss and rub my shin, cursing softly at the pain. After a moment, I stand again and very carefully move around the coffee table. Amelia and Gabriel are sharing a bed again tonight, but if they both wake and find the power out, they will be frightened. I’ll stay in their room tonight.

I reach for my cell phone, but when I try to unlock the screen, I find that it’s turned off. I frown and turn it back on, but all I receive is a brief, dim low battery symbol before it dies completely.

That’s odd. I’m certain I charged it earlier.

Well, I’ll have to make my way upstairsverycarefully. And I’ll have to make myself aware of where the flashlights are in the morning.

I take a step forward, and the song starts playing. The same damned song. It starts with the romantic first movement, but there’s a jocular undertone behind it. The notes are played with a taunting character that mocks the romance. It’s as though the piece is gloating.

My shin still radiates pain, so I know I’m not asleep. I can’t understand how the piano is still making noise, but it’s clear that it’s not the storm because thunder and wind couldn’t approximate the soft chords and arpeggios of the music.

I head toward the piano, but after what feels like a full minute, I still don’t reach it. I frown and feel around, but I feel nothing.

This makes no sense. It shouldn’t bethisdark. There should be light from the city outside, at least.

Then I hear the children scream.

My heart falls to my feet. I burst into a run, crouching low with my hands outspread to catch whatever furniture or wall I encounter. I will find the stairs eventually and reach them.

I feel nothing. I run for far longer than I should need to, but I feel nothing.

---