Page 75 of Tell Me Goodnight

“Jonathan, do youremember spending Christmas Eve with us and playing this old thing?” Aliceasked, running her fingers over the gorgeous and pristine, antique Steinwayupright piano. She spoke of it like it wasn’t worth twelve-grand, even in poorcondition.

“Yeah.” I nodded,leaning forward and smiling. Iactually usedto see itas them treating me as a trained monkey, snapping their fingers and demanding Iperform for their friends and relatives. Now, I wondered if it was just theirway of showing off their son-in-law in the only way they knew how. What elsedid I really have to offer?

Charles cleared histhroat and crossed an ankle over his knee. “How would you like to have it?”

I imagined I could heara collective gasp resonating throughout the room. The mouths of my parents andJeff hung open, and beside me, I felt Tess’s eyes pin to the back of my head.

All I could do was staredirectly across from me and ask, “W-what?”

“Well,” Alice satbeside her husband, “there’s nobody here to play it. You’re the only personwe’ve ever known who could play the piano, and now that you have this new job,we figured …” And finally, she revealed the sadness she carried. “We figuredElizabeth would’ve wanted you to have it.”

Unable to just acceptthe generous gift, I blinked repeatedly and shook my head. “I-I don’t even havea place to put it,” I stammered weakly, despite wanting so badly to finally owna piano—arealpiano—of my own.

Charles swirled the icein his glass and watched the cubes spin as he said, “Well, we thought you’d bemoving to a place more suitable for your family, once the money starts comingin.”

Moving. God,I hadn’t thought about it before, but I suspected they were probably right. Wewere never meant to stay in that apartment this long, let alone forever, andnow that the promise of real, good money was heading my way, I had no realreason to stay.

“We can hold onto itfor you, until you have a new place, of course,” Alice threw in, and I nodded.“It’s the least we can do. After everything.”

“I really don’t knowwhat to say,” I replied, wiping a hand over my chin and realizing that movingon really did require some letting go.

“You say thank you,”Tess spoke up, her voice gentle and calm.

I held onto thatstrength, held onto her support, as I faced my former mother- and father-in-lawand said, “Thank you. So much.”

***

We left with the promise of seeing eachother more often, to help in forming a relationship between them and the girls.They were all they had left of their daughter, and there was no reasonableexplanation as to why they didn’t see them more often. I suspected it was thepain of losing Beth that had kept them away for years, but it seemed they wereready to put it behind them. We all were.

I drove in silence forthe first ten minutes from their house. Tess didn’t dare speak, even as shegently bopped her head along with the song on the radio—The Cure’s “Friday I’mIn Love.” Her lips moved soundlessly as she stared out the window, and Imanaged a smile, shaking my head as I knew she was dying to sing along.

Checking in therearview mirror, I saw the girls were still asleep, and I took the opportunityto nudge Tess’s arm. Startled, she turned to me and I offered her a crookedsmile.

“You can change thestation, if you want,” I said, for the sake of saying anything to get aconversation going.

Her brows shot to herhairline. “But this song isamazing.”

“Okay, okay,” Ichuckled. “I was just offering.”

“I love the 90’s,” shecommented airily, tipping her head to rest against the window. “Best decade formusic, hands-down.”

“I don’t think there’ssuch thing as a best decade for music.”

She stared at me, incredulous.Like I’d just told her Santa Claus wasn’t real. “You’re kidding, right?”

It was my turn to gawk.“Every decade has its garbage, Tess. Even the 90’s.”

“Oh, yeah? Name onesong.”

“’Tubthumping,’Chumbawumba.” I lifted a brow, impressed with my ownchoice, only to glance at her and find she was staring back at me with ahorrified expression painted to her pretty face.

“Shut. Up. Are youserious? That song is aclassic, Jon,” she hissed, disbelieving.“Oh, my God, I can’t believe you just said that. I feel like I don’t know youat all.”

“O-kay… What about Len, ‘Steal My Sunshine?’” That time, she didn’teven respond. She simply shook her head, rolled her eyes, and reached over tokick the volume up on the radio. “Youlikethat song? Tess, come on. Now you’re just playing Devil’s advocate to prove apoint.”

I stole my eyes awayfrom the road for a second, just to watch as she bit her bottom lip andgiggled. “I can-notbelieve I sleptwith y—” She caught herself, cutting her words off before mentioning the thingneither one of us would bring up. Her lighthearted giggling came to a halt andshe pulled in a breath as her hands fidgeted in her lap.

Instinct told me topush the conversation. It’d been a long time coming. I remembered that nightagain—the acting on impulse and desire, the brief conversation afterward, andthen, the quick scurry from my room back to hers. At the time, I had feltdisappointed, unsure of what exactly I’d been expecting but knowing it wasn’tthat. It irked me that we hadn’t spokenof it since, like it’d been swept under the rug, along with every other secretand shameful act either of us had committed in our lives. And I wasn’t sure itbelonged there.

---