Page 74 of Vinny

He held her at arm’s length, his own eyes teary, and peered at her wanting to ascertain for himself that she really was alright. His gaze roamed her face before lowering to her shoulder, where the raw stitches stood out in stark contrast to her pale, smooth skin.

Clearing his throat, he asked how she was.

She answered, smiling, “I’m okay, Dad. I’m really okay. Especially now that you’ve come.”

He stayed and visited for a few minutes, but she noticed he never mentioned Easnadh. He took his leave as she began to tire and Vinny walked him to the door.

“Thank you for not saying anything,” Vinny said softly so that she could not hear. “She’s thankful to be alive, but not having her harp hurts her deeply.”

Stewart O’Brian nodded thoughtfully as he thanked Vinny for taking care of his daughter.

Several weeks passed, each day finding Annalissa growing more restless. She was physically healed and stayed busy with trips out with Jennifer and Sherrie and her nights with Vinny. Long nights filled with worshiping bodies, whispers of love, and promises of forever.

But she had not practiced. She had not picked up an instrument. The music was silent, both in reality and in her heart.

Finally answering a call from Maurice, she went to visit him and Mrs. Baxter. She had not seen him since the night of the gala, although they had checked on her. As usual Mrs. Baxter pulled her into a tight hug, clucking the entire time, inquiring about her health and harrowing adventures. Annalissa could not keep the smile off of her face as she was enveloped in the plump woman’s embrace.

“Well, come on through. Mr. Feinstein is in the back, of course, and I’ll go fix a pot of tea.”

Walking down the familiar hall, she admonished herself.It’s time to get back into practicing. Perhaps a trip to Ross’ school again would be just the thing.

Opening the door to the music room, she was stunned to see her father sitting with Mr. Feinstein, both with smiles on their faces as she walked in.

“Hi,” she said hesitantly. “Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all, Malyshka,” Maurice enthused. “Stewart and I were just visiting while waiting for you.”

“Oh. Um…okay,” she said as she moved over to the settee. Bending to kiss her father’s cheek, she turned to greet Maurice, when she saw what was sitting on the stand behind him.

Easnadh. Whole. Restored. Beautiful.

Dropping to her knees at the feet of the instrument, a sob tore from her body, as she covered her mouth with her hands. Tears ran unashamedly down her cheeks as she lifted her fingers to strum a few strings, the familiar sound reverberating all around.

She turned to Maurice, throwing herself at him, her arms wrapped around his neck. “Oh, my God,” she cried. “You did it. I had no idea you were even trying, much less able to restore her.”

The old man patted her back gently, murmuring in her ear as she cried. Finally, as she lifted her face to look up into his, he said, “Your father brought her to me.”

At this, Annalissa’s gaze flew to her father’s face, seeing the usually stoic man fighting tears himself.

With a shrug he said, “Mr. Malloy brought the instrument to me after that night and I brought it to Maurice to see what he could do.” His voice cracked as he continued, “No one should lose something so beautiful. That makes such music.”

Nodding, she said softly, “Yes. She is wonderful.”

Her father’s smile faded as he gazed down at his daughter on her knees at the feet of her beloved teacher and harp. “No, my dear. You misunderstand. I meant you.”

She peered deeply into his eyes, not understanding.Me? He means me?

He stood and pulled her into his arms, saying, “Youare so beautiful and the music you create would have made your mother so proud.” Father and daughter stood quietly a moment as the tears flowed. “So for you, I begged Maurice to work his restorative magic, and he did.”

Smiling up at him, she turned toward the beautiful harp once more, this time inspecting the repair. It was flawless. Hearing a noise behind her, she glanced over her shoulder to see Vinny leaning against the doorframe, Mrs. Baxter smiling behind him. Pulling in her lips to keep from crying more, she lost the battle and the tears overflowed once again.

Vinny pushed off the wall, stalking over to her and wrapping her into his arms. Those arms that protect her from harm, cradle her when she is hurt, and hold her as his body rocks into hers with love. After a minute of letting her cry once more, he gently pushed her back. Looking down, he said, “You ready to make some music, princess?”

Nodding, she walked over to the chair and settled Easnadh onto her lap as he went to sit next to her father. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the muse flow back into her soul. And then her fingers matched her soul, allowing the music to pour forth.

Vinny watched, choking back the emotion. The harp. Once broken and bloody, now restored. The woman. Once injured and bruised, now creating the sounds that allow a man to feel. To heal. To love.

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