And the voice that came out of that man nearly knocked me off the bench.
My jaw dropped dramatically, though Reese couldn’t see with his eyes closed like that. Everything about that moment surprised me — the raspy, deep rumble of his voice echoing off the walls as he played, the way the lyrics melted with the music, the fact that Reese was singing in front of me. The lyrics spoke of no one knowing him like the piano in his mom’s house, and he sang on, moving with the dramatic notes in the music as he did.
His hair was pulled back, fastened loosely at the nape of his neck with the dark strands falling out of place to frame his jaw. That jaw was thick with stubble, the skin under his eyes dark like he hadn’t been sleeping. And as he bent and flowed with the music, singing each word like he felt it in his soul, I truly believed he did.
Reese Walker was only thirty-seven years old, but he’d lived a thousand lives. Of that, I was sure.
I was enraptured, pulled into that moment with him — like the music was a magic carpet that transported us to another world. And the longer I watched him, the more I wanted to reside in this world instead of the one we’d just been in before. In this world, I felt like I could hold Reese. In this world, I felt like he could kiss me.
In this world, we could lose ourselves between the strings of that piano forever.
When the song came to an end, he opened his eyes, bringing his hands to his lap as he turned to me.
“Reese… that was beautiful.”
His eyes searched mine, and for the briefest moment, it was the way he looked at me before. Before he knew. Before I’d said no, and he’d listened.
Reese cleared his throat, standing and crossing the room to his corner like he had to put space between us or he’d kiss me again.
Part of me wished he would.
The bigger part of me knew he couldn’t, that I wouldn’t let him.
“Thank you,” he said as he walked. When he was back in the corner, he turned, folding his arms over one another. “It’s called No One Knows Me by Sampha. Relatively new song, but when I heard it…” He swallowed. “It just hit me in a soft spot. And I feel like it will do the same for you.” He smirked. “Maybe help us get over this vulnerability mountain we’ve been climbing.”
I returned his smile, nodding gently before my hands found the keys. I read the music on the sheet in front of me, feeling out the new song, piecing it all together.
“Take that home with you,” he said as I played around with the music. “I want you to sing as you learn it, really listen to not just the music, but the lyrics. Okay?”
I pulled my hands away from the keys, reaching for the music to tuck into my messenger bag, instead. “Okay. But I’m going to tell Uncle Randall that it’s you to blame for the windows breaking when I sing.”
Reese chuckled.
Rojo lazily trotted into the room with us, drooling around a yellow tennis ball in her mouth. She dropped it at Reese’s feet and sat, looking up at him with her tongue hanging out.
“I know, girl. I know. We’ll go play soon,” he said, rubbing her head.
“She fetches now?”
He nodded. “When I lift outside, she likes to go out with me and play. At first, she just laid there in the sun, but now, she’ll bring me this ball and fetch it for a while. I was thinking about taking her to the dog park this weekend, get her out of the house a little.”
The image of Reese without his shirt on the day I’d come to tell him about Wolfgang was one I was sure I’d never get out of my head, and it was easy to picture him out back, sitting on the bench I’d noticed a few times with weights lining the bottom of it. I wondered if he did calisthenics, if the neighbors watched the sweat rolling from his hairline the way I had that day, following it in a trance as it slid down his temple, his jaw, his neck, chest, abdomen.
I swallowed, shaking the thoughts away.
“Can I come?”
The words were out of my mouth before I realized I shouldn’t have asked, shouldn’t have invited myself to hang out with Reese outside of our lessons. That was what I’d asked him for — those boundaries.
Now, they sort of felt like prison bars.
Reese furrowed his brows, scratching at his jaw as he considered my request.
“I’m sorry,” I said on a sigh, shoving my folder into my messenger bag along with my new assignment. “I just… I don’t get out much on the weekends, other than our Sunday lesson. But that’s not your problem. I shouldn’t have asked you that. It’s your weekend, I’m sure you’d like to spend it without the student you have to put up with all week.”
I was trying to joke, aiming for lightness in my voice that I somehow missed.
“I don’t mind if you join.”
I glanced up at him from the bench. “Are you sure?”
It seemed like Reese was at war inside that head of his, like he was battling between what he should say and what he wanted to. “Yeah. I’m sure. Rojo would love it.”
Would you love it, too?
I smiled, swallowing that question down. “Okay. As long as you’re sure.”
Reese
“Wait, wait, wait,” I said, still laughing around a mouthful of pretzels. “You’re serious? You used to fish?”
Sarah nodded, swallowing the last bite of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Mm-hmm. It was one of my dad’s favorite things to do on the weekends, and I was hell bent on being his fishing buddy. I’d help him pick out lures, hook worms, fix reels. The whole shebang.”
“You stuck hooks in worms, and now you’re vegan?”
She threw a pretzel at me. “I told you, I was young. I didn’t know any better!”
I was still chuckling as she smoothed out her long skirt, crossing one ankle over the other. We were both seated on an old blanket of mine, the shade from the dogwood tree we’d parked under offering reprieve from the hot sun. A cool breeze whipped in from time to time, blowing back the light, creamsicle-colored orange scarf Sarah wore around her neck. It was the brightest color I’d seen her wear, and it matched the gem stones in the small earrings adorning her earlobes.
She looked happy and free, and it was my favorite way to see her.
Rojo had played in the park all afternoon, but now she was sprawled out on her side, half in the sun and half in the shade on the other side of Sarah. I’d considered cancelling, telling Sarah I changed my mind and wouldn’t be able to take Rojo to the park like I’d planned. I knew being with her outside of our lessons was dangerous, a fire I shouldn’t play with or even stand next to for warmth. But, the temptation to spend more time with her won out, along with the dejected look on her face when she’d thought I was going to say no when she originally asked.
The truth was, I missed her.
I missed talking to her, missed her laugh, her jokes, her incessant need to give me advice on my life even though I hadn’t asked for it. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have Rojo — and that dog had become my everything within a month.
Sarah had brought light into my life, and when we’d put those boundaries between us again, it was like a thick, gray cloud had returned.
I just wanted a little time in the sun again.
“When I was that age, I’d do just about anything to hang out with my dad,” she said after a moment, her smile back as her eyes gazed off in the distance. “He was my hero. Then again, I suppose that’s every little girl.”