Piano Lessons

by Gail Sattler

  Next, she placed his hands on the keyboard and showed him the proper hand position, curving his fingers and placing them individually on the keys. He had wonderful hands for a man. His skin was soft, and she admired the little bit of hair showing from under the cuffs of his shirt. She tried to stop herself from blushing at noticing such a thing.

  “Now, Mr. Davies, you must maintain proper posture. Keep your back straight, no slouching. Elbows in, feet flat on the floor at all times.”

  He laughed at her seriousness. “Please, call me Jed. I’m not old enough for anyone to call me Mr. Davies. And I can see what Mark meant about you being strict. He isn’t very happy about you making him sit still and keep his feet on the ground.”

  Jillian tried to smile back. “I guess you should call me Jillian. I’d feel silly if you called me Miss Jefferson like the kids do. And Mark does very well sitting still and maintaining his posture when he is playing. He is very well-behaved.”

  Well-behaved? Jed remembered the plastic dog vomit and the subsequent chase around the living room on his first morning at the house. It would be years before he forgot that one.

  He sat still as Jillian opened the book and showed him the first few songs, all of which required only one hand, four songs in all. Before he knew it, the lesson was over.

  “This is it?” he asked.

  “That’s half an hour. Actually, we covered much more than I usually do in one lesson. Now you have to practice for a week, and come back and play these songs perfect for me.”

  Jed couldn’t believe it. Was that all there was to playing piano? “If this is all I get to do, can I have another lesson when I’m done, even if it’s not a week? I’ve got nothing else to do all day.”

  Jillian faced him. It was true, the first lessons were very simplified, but this series was a good progressive course. She wished he had brought a book more suited for adults. “Well, I don’t generally. . .but I suppose I could make an exception. When you’re ready, call in the morning and we’ll see if we can set something up.”

  Jed checked his watch, noticing that it was time to go to the school to pick up Betsy. “Great.” He stood. “I’ll do that.”

  Jillian’s heart beat far too fast as she escorted him to the door and watched him leave, taking long lazy strides as he walked. To say this was not what she expected would be a massive understatement. As hard as she had tried to concentrate, she’d found herself being distracted by his closeness as she tried to teach him the basics. Her face flushed as she remembered calling him Little Jed. Little Jed, indeed!

  Jed walked quickly once he rounded the corner on his way to the school. He didn’t know why he’d tried so hard to look casual as he left Jillian standing on her doorstep, but he could feel her watching him as he walked down the street. He just knew.

  How in the world was he going to learn anything with a teacher like that? Throughout the entire lesson, he’d found it difficult to concentrate on the lesson, hypnotized by her sweet melodic voice and gentle manners. He’d forced himself to listen to what she was saying, rather than how she was saying it.

  His lips tightened and his pace became more determined. He could not allow this distraction. If he ever got the urge to get back into the dating scene, Liz said she knew a number of nice single women at her church whom she wanted to introduce to him. When he was ready, that would be the route he would take. Later. Much later. Like when he graduated from college. And got a good job teaching in a big high school. And then, only after many years. Maybe when he became the department head. Or principal.

  If he could get past Jillian’s annoying sweetness, piano lessons were going to be fun. And he was going to have to speak to Mark about his definition of “old.”

  He arrived at the school with perfect timing to take Betsy home.

  ❧

  Mark raced out the school door and straight to Miss Jeffer-son’s house. He had remembered to put his music books in his backpack all by himself this morning.

  His teacher was waiting for him.

  “Hi, Miss Jefferson!” he called as he walked up to the piano, throwing his backpack on the floor beside the bench. “Was Uncle Jed here today? He said he was going to take piano lessons. He’s going to use all my old books.” He gazed up expectantly at her, but Miss Jefferson only smiled politely at him and nodded. “Yes, Mark. He was here.” She patted the bench and smiled again, so it didn’t look like she was going to thank him for showing Uncle Jed all the notes. “And did you practice those hard ones this week?”

  Mark didn’t want to pout like his little sister. “Yes,” he mumbled. “I had to practice lots to show Uncle Jed how much fun it was to play piano. He kept asking me to play stuff for him.”

  “Oh, really? Was he impressed? Did you do your best?”

  Mark nodded so fast his hair fell into his eyes. “Yes, I practiced real hard.” He sat straight and tall, both feet on the floor, and played his best for Miss Jefferson, showing her how well he had played for uncle Jed.

  Jillian was impressed as she watched Mark play. It seemed having his uncle take lessons was going to be good for Mark. However, the unsettled feeling his Uncle Jed had left might not be so good for her.

  “Very good, Mark, you passed them all! I can tell you worked very hard.” She placed a large colorful sticker on each of the pages as he grinned excitedly. “Now, let’s start the next page. I think it’s going to be a fun one.”

  Jillian continued on with Mark’s lesson, and tried to put thoughts of his uncle Jed aside. Would he really call before next Tuesday? Against her better judgment, she hoped he would.

  She sent Mark on his way on time and welcomed her next student.

  ❧

  Jed heard the door slam over the sound of running water as he washed the potatoes he was preparing for supper.

  Mark’s loud voice almost caused him to drop the knife. “Uncle Jed! Uncle Jed!”

  “I’m in the kitchen!” Jed shouted back. “What do you want? I have to get ready for work.”

  “Uncle Jed! I passed them both!”

  Jed wiped his hands so he could admire the new stickers in Mark’s book. Would he get stickers for passing? He hoped not. What would she do when he passed?

  The sound of a car pulling into the driveway made him rein in his thoughts. If that was Liz and Frank getting home, that left him ten minutes to make it out the door to be on time for work.

  Jed turned the heat down on the potatoes and gave the roast a poke with a fork to check its progress. Roast beef sandwiches for lunch tomorrow.

  Packing his lunch pail, Jed wondered if this was a good time to get some information out of Mark, who was sitting at the table admiring his new stickers.

  “So, Mark,” Jed said as he casually searched the fridge for the bag of apples, “Miss Jefferson seems like she’s a good teacher. She’s pretty too. But she really isn’t that old.”

  “But, Uncle Jed! Look at her! She has to be almost as old as Mom. I’ll bet she’s as old as you.”

  Jed straightened his back and cleared his throat. He swiped his hair back, then patted the top of his head, just to make sure there weren’t any thin spots he didn’t know about. As far as he knew, there were no gray ones either.

  When Mark stared up at him with a stunned expression, Jed couldn’t take it anymore. “Get out of here!” He stepped forward, pretending to chase Mark, lunch pail in hand. Mark squealed, prompting Jed to give chase for real, until he almost collided with Liz and Frank in the hall.

  “Hi, Jed.” Liz flattened herself against the wall as Jed skidded to a halt. “So, how was your piano lesson? You did go today, didn’t you? And what did you think of Miss Jefferson?” He watched Liz bite back a grin. “She certainly has a way with children.”

  Jed narrowed his eyes to stare at his sister. “I’m leaving,” he mumbled, just loud enough for her to hear.

  She pointedly ignored him as she peeked into the oven. “Have a nice night at work then. See you.”

  “Yeah. Save so
me for me, will ya?”

  “Bye, Jed,” Frank said absently as he walked past Jed and opened the lid of one of the pots on the stove. “What’s for supper?”

  Jed didn’t answer.

  As he drove to work, Jed anticipated the next afternoon. After he dropped Betsy off at the school, he could start practicing his piano lessons.

  ❧

  Friday finally came. Not that the beginning of the weekend made much difference, since Jillian scheduled a full day of lessons Saturday, making it her busiest day.

  She had just switched on the coffeemaker when the phone rang.

  “Hi, Jillian? It’s little Jed.”

  Jillian’s face flushed, and she was relieved he couldn’t see her. She had a feeling she would never be able to forget calling him that. “Yes, Jed?”

  “Got time for a lesson today? I’m getting bored with these four one-handed tunes.”

  Obviously he had no clue that every afternoon was open. “Yes, today would be fine. Same time?”

  “Yeah, sure. See you later. Bye.”

  Jillian dressed in her oldest jeans and rattiest T-shirt, deciding to keep to her original plan of scrubbing out her window frames, a job she had been putting aside for months. While she was in the process of dumping the dirty water down the drain, the doorbell rang. She cringed as she looked at the clock. If it was Jed, then he was early, and she was wearing her grubbiest clothes. But no matter. she couldn’t leave him standing outside just because she wasn’t ready.

  Jillian answered the door with her heart in her throat. So much for her dignified professional image. “Hi, Jed. Come in. I’m afraid I lost track of the time, and I’m not ready.”

  He stood at the door, also dressed in jeans, but he wore a neatly pressed cotton shirt instead of a stained old T-shirt, and he, at least, was clean. He shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry. I think I’m a bit early.”

  “Well, come in.” She couldn’t very well leave him in the living room while she ran off to change. They would have to do the lesson as she was.

  Instead of sitting beside her on the piano bench, Jed stood to the side, gripping his book with both hands. She followed his gaze, first to her accumulation of music books on her bookshelf, then to the praise book she had left open on the piano. She usually felt awkward about people seeing her church music, but thankfully Jed didn’t say anything.

  “Can you play something for me?” he asked, catching her off guard.

  Jillian bit her bottom lip. “I guess so,” she replied. “Any-thing in particular you’d like to hear?”

  “Well,” he drawled as he continued to study the pile of books, “how about something I could expect to be able to play a few years down the road?”

  Jillian didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she hadn’t a clue what level he could expect to be at. She had no idea if he had any real talent; after all, this was only his second lesson, and they hadn’t even started yet. How committed would he be? How much time did he intend to practice every day? There were too many unknowns. And what was a “few” years? Two? Three? Five?

  “That’s a tough one. Can I just pick a favorite number of my own that isn’t too difficult, and play it for you? If you work hard, you should be able to do this one in a few years.”

  Jillian selected a book and played a simple sonata by Mozart. “That’s about the grade five Royal Conservatory level. Or would you rather hear something more contemporary?”

  Jed’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Wow,” he mumbled as he scanned the open page. Jillian couldn’t tell if he thought the written music looked too complicated or not. “Will I really be able to play like that?”

  Jillian smiled, enjoying the opportunity to play for an appreciative student, rather than a parent who was merely listening to be polite. Although she had been asked to play piano for the worship service at church, she had declined, wanting to remain in the background. Never again would she be displayed in front of people, not even the moral and upright people at church. At least she knew the motives of her students, which was only to share her love of music and nothing more.

  She started playing another selection at the same difficulty level. Jed lowered himself to her chair beside the piano. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him leaning back, his long legs stretched out in front of him, smiling as she played, his eyes closed. She turned her concentration back to her music, before she completely lost her place.

  At the closing diminuendo, his eyes opened and he continued to lie back, a lazy smile lingering on his face. Jillian tried to ignore her unwarranted impulse to smooth his hair.

  “Do you really think I’ll be able to play like that someday?”

  She swallowed, mentally kicking herself for her thoughts. He was her student and nothing more. She swallowed hard and closed the book. “If you practice hard and keep at it, I don’t see why not.”

  “Can you play me one more before my lesson? A favorite of yours? Do we have time?”

  “Sure. This is called Moonlight Sonata.”

  The Beethoven classic was her current favorite, helping her to relax after a trying day. Jillian poured her heart into the music, and let the piano sing the melancholy melody. When she released the final chord, silence permeated the room.

  “Wow, that was beautiful. You play as well as you teach.” His starry-eyed smile made Jillian blush.

  She cleared her throat. “Maybe we should get on with your lesson.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Jed sat beside her on the bench, and he proceeded to play the first two-line song without making a single mistake. Jillian tried not to be too impressed.

  “Now play it again, and I’ll play my part down here.”

  The duet sounded as good as could be expected for the first lesson in the book. All four songs progressed in the same manner, without error, and Jillian found herself hard-pressed not to grin at his enthusiasm, as well as his sense of humor about having to learn the easy beginner selections.

  “I’m afraid that’s it.”

  “Yup. Time for me to go get Betsy. See you next lesson.”

  They stood simultaneously, and she immediately missed his warmth.

  “Yes, see you Tuesday, Jed.” She didn’t want to count the days until Tuesday. She accompanied him to the door.

  Jed closed the door behind him and walked toward the school, trying to appear calm and carefree. He wondered if she was as curious about him as he was about her. And what was that book that was open on the piano, before she picked that classical number? He had been too far away to read the words, but the title of the song seemed like something he’d sung in church. He wondered how he could find out more about her.

  But it didn’t matter. Jed’s smile turned to a hard frown. He’d learned his lessons the hard way, and he wasn’t about to have a repeat performance. From now on, he would concentrate only on his lessons, not on his teacher.

  three

  “I can’t play this!”

  “But it’s in the book. The book is progressive, and you should play everything in it, in the right order, for the maximum benefit from each lesson. Try it, you may even like it.”

  “I’m not playing ‘Pop Goes the Weasel.’ ”

  “You played ‘Willy the Whale.’ That one was fine.”

  Jed sat upright and folded his arms across his chest. “This is different. I’m a grown man. Grown men do not play ‘Pop Goes the Weasel.’ ”

  Jillian mumbled to herself, “And real men don’t eat quiche.” Up until now, Jed had progressed quickly with his lessons. An eager student, he had been more than prepared each lesson, even doing two lessons a week to hurry through the easy stuff at the beginning stages. In only a month and a half, they were nearly done with the first level.

  “What did you say?” he asked.

  “Nothing.” She stopped to think for a minute. “If you play ‘Pop Goes the Weasel’ without making any mistakes after only one lesson, I’ll promise not to tell anyone.”

  He balked.
“Not good enough.”

  “Well, then I’ll give you some homework on it. After you play the first part of the song, I want you to figure out the rest of it that isn’t written in the book, and play the entire song for me next week. It’s called ‘playing by ear’ and it’s good for you.”

  “My mother is the only one that can tell me what’s good for me,” he groused.

  “Jed.” Jillian tapped her foot, but it had nothing to do with the beat of the music.

  He grumbled under his breath again. “Mark was right. You are a slave driver.”

  Jillian narrowed her eyes to glare at him, but he returned her scowl with his dazzling white smile. She didn’t smile back. He could turn on all the charm he wanted to, he wasn’t going to weasel out of this one. And Jed really did know how to turn on the charm. Trouble was, she didn’t think he was aware of it. Aside from a few jokes and some very short conversations, he kept personal details of his life as private as she did. She didn’t know why, but it made her all the more curious about him, even though she kept telling herself she didn’t want to know.

  She tried to keep her mind on the lesson, where it belonged. “Tell you what. I’ll play it first. I’m an adult, and I have no qualms about it. Listen.”

  Instead of merely leaning over to plunk out the beginner version from the book, Jillian rose from her chair, sat beside him on the piano bench, and played an embellished version of “Pop Goes the Weasel,” exaggerating her demonstration with a rousing flourish of chord aggrandizement and brilliant accompaniment. Quite satisfied with her performance, Jillian folded her hands in her lap and turned to smile sweetly at him, hoping this would inspire him to greater things. His stupefied expression caused her to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

  “You amaze me. Will I be able to do that someday?”

  “I’m going to say the same thing I’ve said before. If you practice and work hard, then there is no reason why not. You just have to go through the book, learning each lesson step by step.”