Page 79 of Mercy (The Sins Trilogy 3)
“Not silly,” Yuna says from the baby grand. “I was nervous too.” She lays her hands on the keys, then quietly plays some Bach.
I recognize the piece—“Schafe können sicher weiden” specially arranged for a solo piano. The lyrical melody starts to calm me. I slowly walk toward the digital piano Yuna bought for our Rachmaninoff duet and turn it on. Then I sit in front of the instrument and play it with Yuna, even though “Schafe können sicher weiden” isn’t technically a duet piece and I don’t remember performing it before. It’s as though my fingers know exactly what keys to hit at what tempo.
A beautiful brown-eyed brunette comes out of a homey kitchen with a humble Formica counter and gives me a hug. A sunny yellow Tweety Bird winks at me across her chest.
“Welcome home, sweetie!”
I burst into tears.
She squats down. “What’s wrong?” She runs a gentle hand over my hair, then along my arms and legs. “Are you hurt?”
“Some kids in my class said I’m adopted!”
She gives me a puzzled look as she wipes away tears on my cheeks. “So?”
“That means I’m not your daughter, right?”
“Oh, sweetie.” She pulls me toward her and wraps me warmly within her arms. “Of course you’re mine.”
“But I’m not yours for real,” I say, needing to confirm that I’m truly wanted and loved. “We aren’t really family. There’s no blood tie. That’s what Zoe said.”
“Nonsense. Of course we’re family. Family is more than that. Love is what makes people family.”
I don’t believe her. She’s just being nice. Zoe isn’t adopted like me. She looks just like her mom.
“Your dad and me. We aren’t blood relations.” Mom shudders. “Thank God,” she adds quickly, then continues, “But we’re together because we love each other very much. He and I are a unit. A family. Then we decided to add you—another person we love—to our family.”
“Really?”
“Cross my heart. You can have family without blood ties. But without love, there’s no family, Ivy. Don’t let the silly kids in your class upset you. You believe Mommy, don’t you?”
I think for a moment, then nod. She’s always right. And she’s an angel. Everyone says so. She plays the most beautiful piano and sings better than the people on TV.
My hands stop. I blink and realize I reached the end of the music. Squatting by the bench, Tony dabs at my cheeks, drying the tears I didn’t know I was crying. Embarrassed, I look away.
Without saying a word, he continues to dry my face, then presses a soft kiss on my forehead.
He always seems to know exactly what I need.Just like that, my embarrassment vanishes, and I want to share what I discovered. “I remember my mom. She was so beautiful.”
He hugs me, kissing the tears from my eyes.
I lean into him, missing my mom and grateful for the slice of my past I glimpsed in the music. I wish she were here to meet Tony. She would’ve adored him.
Yuna comes over and squeezes my hand.
“I don’t know why I remembered her with Bach, though,” I say. “I was never able to, no matter how hard I tried.”
“It was one of your favorite pieces when we were at Curtis,” Yuna says. “You said your mom used to sing it. Maybe that’s why.”
I didn’t know that, but it makes sense. “Schafe können sicher weiden” is actually a soprano vocal piece. I wish I could recall Mom singing it, but that’s probably being greedy. I should be satisfied that I finally know what my mom was like, not through stories others tell me, but through what’s buried in my mind.
“I’m so happy that you remember her, Ivy,” Tony says, his voice tender.
“Me too.” And I miss her dreadfully. She was such a beautiful woman. I turn to Yuna. “And thank you. Without that Bach, I might’ve never remembered her.”
The monk I met in Austria said memories are really about people, and he was absolutely right. None of what I remember would mean anything without the people I care about. And slowly, I’m not only regaining my memories but love and friendship.
You can have family without blood ties. But without love, there’s no family.
I look at Tony and Yuna. When my parents died, I thought I might never have a true family again. That belief was cemented when I couldn’t feel a particle of familial warmth toward Sam or Marty. But now it’s happening.
Gratitude and joy fill my heart. I get off the piano bench and give Tony and Yuna a tight group hug. I’ve always had family. I just didn’t know it.
