Dark of the Moon by Parrish PJ

Author:Parrish, PJ [Parrish, PJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: USA
Publisher: New York : Kensington Books
Published: 1999-10-05T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Abby paused at the top of the staircase. Music…piano music. Maybe it was the maid; she often played the radio when she cleaned. But then again, she always listened to the country station, never classical.

Shifting the load of books in her arms, Abby went down the stairs to the library. She stopped abruptly at the entrance.

Grace was seated at the piano. She was playing a melancholy tune that Abby did not recognize. Abby stared at her mother; she hadn’t seen her play for years. She never played when her father was around. But this afternoon, he had left abruptly and hadn’t returned. Who knew where he was? Abby sighed. It was Friday. He was probably out boozing, getting a head start on the weekend.

Grace had her eyes closed, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. She was swaying slightly as she played, the setting sun filtering through the big bay window, turning her hair to gold. The sight of her mother like this was so unexpected, so lovely, that Abby felt tears sting her eyes. When was the last time she had seen her mother look like that?

A distant memory pushed its way forward. It was that day— she had been only twelve—when the two of them had driven to Jackson to visit Aunt Ellie. The three of them had gone out shopping and there had been a street festival of some kind, with booths of food and artists selling their work.

Grace had walked toward the festival, as if magically drawn there. Abby remembered feeling surprised; her mother never lingered in such places. Grace had walked up to a man who was playing the piano. “Days of Wine and Roses”—Abby remembered it clearly. Grace had stood at his side, as if mesmerized. He finished, and got up for a break. And then something even more extraordinary happened. Grace sat down at the piano, and in that perfect white linen dress and pristine white gloves, she had put her hands on the keyboard and played.

She played “Moon River.” Abby remembered it so well. She had just seen the movie Breakfast at Tiffany’s on television and she remembered how sad Audrey Hepburn had been looking for that damn cat in the rain. Her mother never watched movies. Her mother never paid attention to popular songs. But she played “Moon River” that afternoon, sitting in the sunlight, played it like it was the saddest song on earth.

The house fell silent. Grace had finished. She looked up, as if coming out of a trance, and saw Abby standing at the library entrance.

“Don’t stop,” Abby said. “Please.”

Grace said nothing. She closed the keyboard and rose stiffly. She stared at Abby in such a way that Abby felt herself coloring, but she didn’t know why. She went quickly to the bookshelves and began replacing the books she had taken out last night in her search for the poem. She hesitated as she slipped the poetry book back in its place, thinking about Louis.

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