Page 116 of Love You Like That (Excess All Areas 4)

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Zoe stroked the wooden tone plates of her marimba. “Come on, Miss Betty. It’s just you and me and Claudio Santangelo’s Symphonic Marimba with a million lateral runs. How hard can it be?”

The piece was demanding.

Challenging.

Technical.

And her head had been filled with nothing else since Boncaldo had told her to work on it. Except for the times she’d been distracted by Alex. They’d video chatted. His signing was getting better. Simultaneous texting helped. She lipread when she wasn’t so damn tired that she was ready to fall face-first into her dinner. And sometimes, actions had spoken louder than words, which meant she now knew that video sex was not as awkward as she feared. It was like porn, only there was no exploitation and contained a dick you’d actually had personal, enjoyable experience with.

Oh, and the time she’d spent working on the centre, because she couldn’t wait for it to open.

And the chats she’d had with Cerys, and the drinks she was having later with Chaya and Iz. Wow, out of nowhere she suddenly had a full life.

Tomorrow, she was headed to Wigan to see her parents for dinner, hopeful her mum wouldn’t gloat about being right. Because the hole, the one she’d not been able to fill no matter how self-sufficient she became, no matter how many friends she had, no matter how much she knew Alex’s feelings for her had tipped into love, was now closing.

Filled with hard work, a redefinition of sound, and raw energy to consume every piece and spit it out in a way that had never been heard before.

She went back to the first chromatic run, preparing to hit it again. The pencil notes on the sheet music glared at her accusingly for ignoring them on the last playthrough.

“Stance,” she muttered, feeling her arms getting a little high, her body crowding the marimba. It was fast. She reminded herself to breathe, focused on her hold such that the octave splits hit exactly where she wanted them to.

“Shit.” One missed note. The more she paid attention, the more she could feel the vibration and music. The more she felt confident in her ability to know when she screwed up, even without her hearing aids.

“Fuck me,” she shouted, as she felt the shaft snap against the block instead of the mallet.

When she reached the end, she paused, then let out a long breath. “That was better, Betty-Boop.”

Her soles vibrated and she looked up to find Boncaldo and Philip, her translator, stamping their feet, and waving their hands in the air for applause.

“Bravo,” Boncaldo exclaimed. “Bravo, bravo, bravo.”

Zoe grinned and pushed her hair back from her face. “Did you try to seek out a piece with the most lateral runs in it on purpose?”

Boncaldo grinned. “For someone with such articulate, crisp, and clean laterals? Yes, I did. And you nailed them. The triple laterals with one hand. Amazing. There was a moment here and there where your bottom mallet was a little hard, we need to work on the articulation so it isn’t quite so harsh. But the cross-handing at the end was flawless. And you were right to remind yourself of your stance. What can I say, Zoe? It’s a joy to have you back playing. But when are you going to re-join the full program?”

It took a moment to finish signing Boncaldo’s impassioned monologue. When Philip was done, Zoe tipped her head. “Thank you. Do you think it’s possible for me to catch up on what I missed?”

Philip grinned and violently nodded before Boncaldo had a chance to speak. “I’ve already volunteered to assist you,” he signed.

Boncaldo glanced at Philip. “What did you say?”

“I said I can’t wait to hear your answer,” he signed and spoke.

Zoe grinned.

“It’s been two weeks. You can catch up. I’ll make sure you get everything you need.”

She hadn’t realised she was still holding on to fear until the last of it eased from her body. And what replaced it was tears. “Jesus, I’m sorry,” she said, wiping them away swiftly.

But Boncaldo just looked at her like a proud father. “Like a good musical score, the notes laid down shift and alter in the writing process. Bars get added and removed. Chords are changed, rearranged, even returned to how they were at the very beginning. And life, much like those notes, sometimes ends up out of tune or off-key. And sometimes they simply soar.”

Zoe understood what he was telling her. “I like the analogy.”

“Good. It’s Friday. Go home, see your friends, then come to my office at nine on Monday. Everything you missed will be on my desk, as well as your new timetable. Philip will be there too. We believe in you, Zoe, and want to invest in you so I have a reason to go visit Berlin or Vienna to listen to their Philharmonic orchestras.”

“Thank you, Lorenzo.” She rarely said his first name, but occasionally, it felt like the absolute right thing.

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