Page 62 of Sensing Selma
ON MY SECOND DAY ATMajor Cooper’s London townhouse, Susan forcibly sat me down in front of the piano.
“Enough of this pity party, Holly. Life goes on.”
“You have no idea how much a heartache like this hurts,” I shot back at her.
“I have no idea?”It was the first time she’d raised her voice at me since my rainy trip to London. She was positively livid.“Just because I don’t lounge around having my every need met by those who wish to console me doesn’t mean that I don’t know what it means to be heartbroken, Holly. You do not have the monopoly on that brand of pain.”
I stared at the piano keys. I knew very well that she’d been hurt by Bradley. But my pain was so intense, and still so present. I simply couldn’t imagine anyone else going through anything like it.
“Play.” She grabbed my wrists and set my hands over the keys.
“Susan, please. I don’t want to play. I just want to get back to bed.”
“No.You will play. You will play, and you will write, and you will practice, and you will have the music for this movie ready on time. People are counting on you, Holly. Keely is counting on you.”
I pressed down on a key, the middle C, then another and another. Just that sound. That wonderful, rich sound that only a good and finely tuned piano could produce.It resonated in a way that reached down into my soul.
“That’s it,” Susan said as I played on.
I closed my eyes, letting the emotions play out through my fingers. It was a song I’d begun working on that day at the pond. I’d put it aside, too preoccupied with Damen to bother finishing it.
But now, the rest of the song came easily, all on its own. The ebb and flow, the high and low, the soft and strong...it all came so effortlessly.
“That was beautiful, Holly,” Susan said. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you play with such passion, with such depth of emotion.”
I looked up at her. “You’re just trying to make me feel better.”
“I do want you to feel better, but I would never lie to you.”
I smiled. “It is a nice song, isn’t it.”
She put her hand on my shoulder. “I really do have to get back to Moon Manor. Not only do I have my work, but Mother is alone now. Ayra has promised to tend to her, but I doubt Mother is pleased with that, no matter how much she likes Ayra.”
“I understand. As much as I would like to have you stay a few more days, I understand.”
“Will you be all right?”
I hesitated. The ache was still there and the urge to cry was always so close. But I felt stronger than I had the day before and had to believe that I would feel stronger in the days to come. “I know with certainty that I will cry again, but...yes. I’ll be all right.”
We said our goodbyes and I then found myself alone in Major Cooper’s home. I stood still and breathed. The silence caught me off guard. Moon Manor was always such a flurry of activity.
I opened my eyes and, before returning to the piano, I strolled through my new abode, really looking at it for the first time.In contrast to Moon Manor with its traditional architecture and somber décor, Major Cooper’s townhouse was bold, slightly eclectic and very much a surprise.
The artwork on the walls were filled with color. There was a beautiful Picasso, a colorful, almost whimsical landscape by a local artist, Morgan Bila, and a portrait that, while it somewhat resembled Major Cooper, it was so abstract that it was difficult for it to be certain.
Susan had mentioned that we were in an older, yet elegantly refined part of London. But looking around, that was hard to believe. Yes, there were the twelve-foot-high ceilings and the architecture retained a bit of that old world feel, but the townhouse was luxurious with so many post-modern elements. The colors on the walls were vivid, with little trim and no adornment. Lighting fixtures were streamlined and elegant. The furniture was at times bold, like the golden yellow armchair set by the fireplace but there were a few interesting antique pieces, like the fabulous desk in the office, and the old-style lamp on the nightstand in the bedroom.
The overall style was bold and masculine, but something about it made me feel at home. I felt protected and safe.
In the modern and fully equipped kitchen, I opened the refrigerator door to find it filled with fresh produce and fine foods. There was plenty with which I could make a good meal, but as I opened the freezer, I also found prepared meals.
I smiled. Whether depressed due to heartache or not, I’d never enjoyed cooking much, making the prepared meals a must.
However, in that moment, I did have the capacity to make myself eggs and toasts, which was what I did.
Despite my good intentions, I only managed to eat a few bites before giving up, although I promised myself to eat more for dinner.
Finally, I was ready to face my work again. I returned to the piano, sat down and spent the next three hours pouring my soul into every note.
