Page 47 of Fa-La La-La Land
Stella sits taller and lays down her fork. “Do you have a song for Winter Lights? Can I hear it?”
“Not for Winter Lights. Just messing about with something.” I push away from the table and pick up my empty plate as I reach for hers. “You finished?”
She hands me her plate, then grabs Mum’s and Dad’s before I can. “But you recorded it? Can I listen? Will you play it for me?”
I glance at Mum, who gives me an apologetic shrug while holding back a smile. I shift my gaze to Dad, but he’s no help either.
“Been a while since you’ve played anything new for us,” he prods.
And there’s the nail in the coffin. I can’t tell Dad no. His progress has slowed since we got back from Brisbane, and everything about him looks a bit weaker. A bit older. Every day I expect him to bounce back, but he hasn’t yet.
I take the dishes from Stella and carry them all into the kitchen. With a sigh, I set them in the sink, then go back to face the lions.
“Righto. Quick listen, then dishes and a film,” I say, then grab the handles to Dad’s wheelchair and push him into the studio. “All right, Dad. Just the track, yeah?”
No way am I playing this song live for Stella. I’m not ready for her to know it’s about her. It’ll be a miracle if she doesn’trealize it, but at least I won’t be stumbling over words or worrying about getting emotional in front of her while I sing.
I queue up the track. Stella sits on the couch next to Mum, and I hit play. I stay at the soundboard, trying not to look at Stella while the first verse plays and she listens to the words I wrote about her eyes.
They’re cinnamon wrapped in silence,
Eyes dark as midnight above snow,
You looked at me and somehow,
Made December feel like home.
No blinking lights, no perfect script,
Just your laughter in the glow,
I never saw December,
Until you let it show
But then the chorus comes, and my eyes keep bumping into hers.
So stay right here in the quiet,
Where the tinsel doesn’t shine,
Where the world forgets to hurry,
And your heartbeat’s keeping time.
I don’t need a crowd or carols,
Just your hand wrapped up in mine,
You’re the only kind of magic
I was ever meant to find.
My face burns each time she catches me looking at her. The second verse starts, and Stella stares ahead, listening intently, but I can’t make out what she’s thinking when she hears me sing:
The city hums with silver bells,
But I only hear your name,
