Duet (Readdie Family Book 1)

by Lizzie Lawson

  Lillian set up her piano stand on the apartment’s balcony and went back in for her piano and headphones. With everything set up, she grabbed her piano seat from the living room and put it in place. While she sat down, Lillian looked at the nearby trees. She paused for a moment to stare at a mother robin in its nest looking back at her before spreading its wings and taking to the air. After plugging in her headphones, Lillian put them on and pushed her piano’s power button. Her eyes sparkled when the displays and indicators lit up. Taking a deep breath, she put her fingers on the keys, closed her eyes, and began to play.

  The music became the only thing in her world. Her fingers danced up and down the white and black keys, drawing Lillian farther from reality. She loved how music made her feel. When she was in the moment, her worries and fears faded away. They'd come back to haunt her, of course, but Lillian just didn't care. She just wanted to play.

  Her senses picked up on someone to her right, and they were nearby. She stopped playing and looked over, her hands pulling the headphones off her head when she recognized the person sitting in the chair beside her. It didn't escape her attention that it was now well after sunset. She'd been playing for about three hours.

  “Hi, Aunt Judy,” she greeted, forcing a smile across her lips.

  The woman reached out and hugged her. “Hey, sweetie. How was your first day of school?”

  “It was alright,” she reported. “Nothing really exciting.”

  Judy leaned forward, wrapping a hand around Lillian’s. “What is it, Lil?”

  “Nothing,” she replied, hoping to downplay what was going through her head.

  “You never come outside by yourself unless you want some time alone,” Judy countered. “Something is on your mind.”

  Lillian sighed and looked down at the floor. She didn’t want to get into the conversation but knew just talking about it would help her feel better. “I saw someone at choir today. I ended up talking with two of her friends who want me to meet her. I just don't want to.”

  “Just tell them you're not interested,” Judy said. “And for that matter, they've got some nerve setting you up with another girl.”

  Her aunt’s words stung. Lillian preferred girls. Did Judy just tell her that if she came out she’d be banned from the house?

  “They weren't setting me up,” she said, struggling to maintain her composure. “They just wanted me to meet her since we both know a lot about music.”

  “Oh, so why don't you want to meet her?”

  “It's Monica,” she answered. “She was one of the three from that recital.”

  “I see.” Judy leaned back as her head showed her understanding. “How do you know she remembers you?”

  “I don't,” Lillian admitted with a quick shrug. “But if it were me, I'd remember me clearly and still be angry.”

  “If you're both in choir, it'll be hard for you to avoid her for two years. Even more difficult if you sit near a couple of her friends.”

  “It's just one year,” she countered. “She's a Senior.”

  “You know what I mean, doofus,” Judy told her with a playful shove on her arm.

  Lillian giggled and turned to her. “I don't want to be reminded of it. It's still embarrassing and makes me sick. It got so bad earlier that I threw up dinner.”

  Her aunt came closer and hugged her. “It was never your fault, Lillian.”

  “It still is,” she countered. “I didn't say anything.”

  Judy tightened her grip and Lillian began to cry again. “I know you're hurting, Lil, but you don't deserve to keep torturing yourself. This is tearing you apart. Don't let your parents’ actions pull you down. You're not defined by that day.”

  Lillian sobbed on Judy’s shoulder for a moment so she could rally her body into talking. “Yes, I am, Aunt Judy. I didn't have the courage to say something and allowed it to happen. I'm a scaredy-cat, a pathetic coward.”

  Judy pulled her in as tight as she could, cuddling her and rubbing the back of her head, which usually calmed her down. She turned her head up toward the stars and shook it slowly.

  “Deep breath, baby girl,” Judy said in her best motherly voice. “Come on, sweetie.”

  Lillian took a breath, but her cries resumed when she exhaled. Judy kept telling her to take deep breaths, and she struggled to comply. But over the next couple of minutes, she was able to start calming herself down. She continued to hold her aunt tight.

  “There you go, honey,” Judy said.

  “This is so hard,” she whispered back. “I know she’s going to hate me, and she has every right to.”

  “I bet it is hard, Lil. But you're never going to know what she thinks unless you say hi.”

  “I know. I’m scared to face her again.”

  Judy gave her another squeeze. “It won’t be as bad as you think. But either way, you’ll have your answer.”

  Off in the west, the sky lit up. Both of them looked in that general direction and sighed.

  “Will you help me bring my piano back in?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Judy answered.

  The duo had everything back inside in less than a minute. Their timing couldn’t have been better. No sooner than Judy closed the screen door, a gentle sprinkle began to fall.

  “Are you still hungry?” Judy asked.

  Lillian kept her gaze outside, listening to the sound of the rain and distant rolling thunder. “Yeah.”

  “Okay. I’ll go make us something quick.”

  She heard footsteps getting further away, but her focus stayed on the swaying trees outside. Lillian considered their conversation and knew what she needed to do. As soon as she resolved to talk to Monica, she talked herself out of it yet again. She huffed and closed her eyes.

  “Come on, Lillian,” she whispered to herself. “Just talk to her and get it over with.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Monica sorted through the stack of clothes draped over her arm. She went through each garment one-by-one, held it up, and looked at Erica. After the inspection, the garment went on one of two piles, one to keep thinking about, the other to put back on the racks. She sorted through the twenty items Erica selected, then matched tops and bottoms, separating the two sundresses. Handing three outfits to her friend, she nodded toward the fitting room entrance.

  “Try these first.”

  “Are you crazy?” Erica asked with a loud whisper. “There are other women in there!”

  She looked back and saw a couple of closed doors, indicating they might be occupied. “So?” she asked back, just shrugging her shoulders. “You’re a woman, too, right?”

  The nervous girl rubbed her hands together and sighed. “Well, yeah.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Monica reassured her. “I’m right here. If anything happens, I’ve got your back. And remember, come out after you have one on so I can see it on you.”

  Erica slowly took the outfits from her hand, and power walked down the row of rooms, darting into the last one on the right. Monica snickered and shook her head in amusement.

  “Hey!” Chloe called out from behind. “Has Erica made any headway with clothes?”

  Monica turned and grinned at Chloe as she sat next to her. “Yes, she has. She’s trying stuff on right now.”

  Chloe became giddy, lightly clapping her hands in anticipation. “Awesome! Fashion show!”

  The two girls maneuvered to fit on the small bench along with the remaining clothes that Erica still needed to try. Once settled, Monica took a deep breath and looked down towards the fitting rooms. It shouldn’t take this long for Erica to change clothes, but this was a new experience for her. It made sense that she was rather uncertain about being here.

  “Erica is nervous,” Monica said, keeping her voice down. “Let’s make this as easy as we can for her.”

  Chloe gave her a quick nod. “Got it.”

  “How’d she do in choir?” she asked.

  “She held her own,” Chloe replied. “Mr. Larson gave her both a
lto and tenor parts. She didn’t know which one to try.”

  Monica nodded and pulled her lips back to think about it. “I could see her staying with tenor, but it’s her choice. I’m drawing a blank on it, but there’s an actual name for a female tenor.” She tapped her finger on her lips as she tried to remember. “I can’t think of it.”

  Chloe smiled as if to poke fun at her for not knowing. “Contralto.”

  Monica’s face contorted into a mix of shock, perplexity, and disbelief. “That’s it! How in the world did you know that?”

  “The new girl me and Erica met at choir today,” Chloe answered. “You should meet her.”

  Chloe’s response stopped Monica dead in her tracks. Her shoulders dropped as she scowled at her friend. “Why are you trying to set me up, Chloe? You know how I feel about that.”

  “I wasn’t thinking that way, Monica,” she answered, sounding sincere. “I promise. Lillian knows a lot about music, just like you do. You don’t get a chance to talk to anyone about it beyond ‘hey, have you heard that new song by so-and-so?’ and I thought you’d like to meet someone who enjoys music as much as you do.”

  Monica sighed and looked at the floor. “I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to help me make friends since I don’t have many.”

  Chloe put a comforting arm around her friend. “I’m the one who’s sorry, Monica. I shouldn’t have made it sound that way.”

  Erica emerged from the dressing room corridor, wearing denim capris and a white, sleeveless tunic with lace. She saw Chloe and smiled. “Hey, Chloe! Did you find a new phone case?”

  “Not yet,” Chloe answered while Monica considered Erica’s outfit. “I like that outfit a lot!”

  “Me too,” Monica agreed, putting on a front for her friends. “I love that top on you! That can go with a lot of different pants, leggings, or maybe even shorts.”

  “You’re losing me, Monica,” Erica said. “Just like with the makeup stuff when you started talking about highlighting and contouring.”

  Monica grinned, remembering all too well how confused she used to get when it came to fashion. “It means your top will go with a lot of different things, including all the pants we picked out. That top will work with a lot of stuff. So that one is a yes. Let's see some more!”

  Erica took a deep breath, spun around on her heels, and walked away with her right hand on her hip. Monica and Chloe cheered her on until she slipped into the far left changing room again.

  “So you said her name is Lillian?” Monica asked.

  “Yep,” Chloe confirmed.

  “And you're sure she’s a music buff?”

  Chloe only shrugged her shoulders. “Pretty sure. I mean, she knew what a contralto is and can list off well-known contralto singers. That’s a ton more than I'll ever know about music.”

  Monica giggled and shook her head. “I'll track her down. If she’s new, I'll probably wait until she gets more settled in.”

  Erica returned from the fitting room, now wearing a sleeveless, yellow sundress with a floral print that came down to just above her knees. “I think it's too short.”

  “It's perfect!” Chloe exclaimed. “It helps you show off those sexy legs of yours.”

  “Yeah,” Monica agreed. “Flats will work just fine, and heels would be gorgeous with that.”

  Erica’s brown eyes blinked continuously. With each movement of her eyelids, her gaze shifted between Monica and Chloe. “Heels?”

  “You're going to need a pair for choir performances, hun,” Monica informed her.

  “No way. I've seen people almost break their ankles trying to walk in heels.”

  “Well, that's because they didn't have us as coaches,” Chloe said. “You've got an advantage. We'll have you walking in heels like a pro.”

  Monica read the worry in Erica’s eyes and smiled. “Don't worry; we'll get a pair with a shorter heel. They'd still work just fine.”

  The next thirty minutes saw Erica modeling outfits with Monica and Chloe offering opinions. Tops, pants, dresses. Red, yellow, orange, green, and other colors. Plain Jane, printed patterns. With help, Erica chose her favorites and paid close attention to Monica’s advice about being able to use clothes for multiple outfits. Monica helped carry Erica's new clothes to the counter to check out. The young lady at the register greeted them and scanned tag after tag, filling three sacks full of clothes to get Erica through the fall.

  “That'll be $374.52,” the cashier said. Erica handed her a card to pay, and they were out of the store.

  “Where to now?” Erica asked when they reached the mall’s corridor.

  “That's easy,” Monica told her. “Gotta get you some shoes, girl!”

  Monica fell onto her bed and started to cry. She understood that Chloe didn't mean anything, but the comment still stung. Regardless of how she tried to paint the picture, the truth hurt more than the innocent comment. She had problems with romantic relationships. Her counselor suspected it was because she was demiromantic, and she was determined to prove otherwise.

  Monica tried dating, and a couple of times she liked the other person very much. She did everything she'd seen others do—hug, kiss, cuddle, deep conversation, and fun activities. But it didn't matter what she did; she couldn't feel anything back. Once, she went as far as starting an argument to see if she could make a connection that way. On a starlit, full moon night, her last boyfriend said he loved her but she couldn't reciprocate.

  At that moment, the ugly truth she'd been trying to disprove was driven into her mind with a nail gun set at maximum. She couldn't deny it anymore.

  She did have problems developing romantic relationships.

  A soft knock on her door drew her attention away from her thoughts. She invited the visitor in and dried out her eyes. Evelyn Readdie stepped through and closed the door again. Walking over to Monica's bed, the woman sat down and pulled her daughter up into her arms.

  “It's okay,” her mom said, gently rocking her back and forth. “Push it all aside, honey. Let go of the negativity.”

  “How did you know?” Monica whispered in between cries.

  “Chloe texted me a few minutes ago,” she answered, rubbing her back to help soothe her. “She knows she triggered you, and I heard you come upstairs when you got home.”

  As much as she wanted to pulverize Chloe the next time she saw her, Monica knew she was worried about her. She always appreciated that from Chloe. That girl may rattle a chain or step over the line, but she always cared about her friends’ feelings.

  “It’s hard to stay mad at her,” Monica quipped. “She is a good friend.”

  Evelyn smiled and patted her shoulder. “You just haven’t found the right person, Monica. That’s all.”

  “I don’t know that I ever will,” Monica said. “I feel like some romantic outcast or something.”

  “Give it time, honey,” Evelyn said. “You’re trying way too hard. I wasn’t looking for romance when I met Debra. It just happened.”

  “It’s been two years, Mom. Why haven’t I found someone yet?”

  Evelyn’s smile helped her relax. “Monica, you’ll only be 18 in two months. You’re going to meet a lot of people in your life. Don’t let a limited number of people get you down. The person you’re looking for is out there. Trust me.”

  Monica nodded. “Okay. I’ll stop trying so hard.”

  “You be you,” Evelyn said. “You’re the only one who can do that.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “How’d school go? Was Erica okay?”

  Monica shrugged. “It was okay. Erica had a couple of struggles. Dylan was a jerk to her this morning. Choir confused her since she got both tenor and alto parts. Otherwise, I think she held her own pretty well. She’s nervous about P.E., though.”

  “I hope it goes well for her.”

  “Me too,” she said, thankful for the distraction from her thoughts.

  “Don’t give up hope, babe,” Evelyn told her. “You haven’t found that deep emotional co
nnection with someone yet.”

  Her eyes welled up again, and she quickly dried them out. “What if I don’t find it?”

  “The future isn’t set, Monica. Give it time. Sit back and see what happens. The right person is out there.”

  Monica felt a tear go down her cheek, and she wiped it away. “Waiting isn’t something I do easily.”

  Evelyn laughed and hugged her. “I know.”

  She happily squeezed her mom back. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “You’re welcome.” Her mom leaned back and looked at her stomach when its growl echoed throughout the room. “So, how does pizza sound?”

  Evelyn's nonchalant tone had Monica laughing hard. She could only nod in reply. When her mom left, she calmed herself down and got ready to leave.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Mr. Larson worked with each section one-by-one until they had the eight measures down pat. He had them go through that part together, and the united voices sent a chill through Monica’s body. She loved it when music made her do that. They rehearsed that specific section three times before Mr. Larson called it a day. Monica closed up her binder and put it on top of the piano with the rest of her things.

  The room cleared when the bell rang. Monica got up to leave with everyone else as well, but Mr. Larson called her over. She was a little confused about why but chalked it up to something about the major spring show in May.

  “What’s up?” she asked when she reached the office doorway.

  “Someone tried out for pianist,” he said, his gaze solely on her.

  Monica only stared back at him. This was the first time that someone tried auditioning against her. She wasn’t upset about it, but rather more surprised than anything else. “Really? Who?”