Piano Lessons
Page 8
“You’re welcome. And on that note, I should go. I have to get up early to get Mark off to school, and it’s already well past midnight.”
“How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Work so late every night and then get up early. When do you sleep?”
Jed felt his ears heat up. “I’ll admit to the occasional afternoon nap after I get back from dropping Betsy off at school. But I still practice my piano lessons.”
She smiled but didn’t say anything, which was just as well.
“See you for lunch tomorrow, then?” Jed mumbled as he stepped into his cowboy boots. For a second, his heart clenched when he thought she was going to say no. He released his breath when she nodded and opened the door.
“Good night, Jillian.” He leaned toward her, but she backed up a step. Jed didn’t want to push his luck, so he nodded back and stepped outside.
“Good night, Jed. See you tomorrow.”
Jed walked to his truck and started the ignition. He knew he wouldn’t fall asleep quickly, and he knew it wouldn’t be from too much caffeine.
❧
Not being one to tempt fate, Jillian was ready and wearing a sweatshirt, jeans, and sneakers when Jed arrived to pick her up.
She never did figure out what went wrong, but the chance to tell him that she wouldn’t be seeing him outside of lessons had never come up during their late-night conversation. Today would be different.
As she vaulted herself up into his truck, without his assistance this time, Jed started the conversation by teasing her about her jeans and the pink lace around the pockets. To top it off, when she complained and defended herself, he threatened to make her walk, then laughed at her when she became flustered. By the time they arrived at the local hamburger joint, she was laughing so hard she couldn’t bring herself to spoil the mood.
Despite the questionable quality of the hamburger and fries and the bad coffee, Jillian couldn’t remember the last time she had so much fun. They laughed and joked and teased each other throughout the entire meal, and stayed far longer than necessary in a fast-food establishment.
For some reason, she was hesitant to leave. To her dismay, especially since she didn’t want to like him too much, Jillian discovered they shared much in common. Jillian had been fascinated, listening to Jed as he shared his funny stories. He ended with his dreams to study literature and his goals when he became a teacher.
Curiosity having got the better of her, she asked enough questions to find out what happened to make him move in with his sister. Apparently, he had been working at a goodpaying job out of town, trying to put enough money aside for college, but he hadn’t quite made enough when the mill closed. However, when he told her about the last few months at the mill, Jillian was left with the impression he purposely left something out, because at one point he became distant and evasive. Then he had changed the subject so fast she didn’t know what hit her.
Before she knew it, Jed had jumped to his feet and pointed out the time, obviously worried that he would be late picking up his niece from kindergarten. Before she had time to think, he grabbed her hand and they dashed out the door, running hand in hand through the parking lot. He mimicked Betsy’s reaction to seeing her Uncle Jed pick her up in the truck instead of walking, because he always walked, even in the rain. He described Betsy’s own special umbrella with little yellow ducks wearing raincoats on it. Even though Jillian had never met Mark’s little sister, she could picture her, cute as a button.
She stared at his taillights as he rounded the corner on his way to the school, wondering not only where the afternoon had gone but also how the opportunity never came up to have that serious little talk with him.
She inserted the key into the lock. Jed’s next lesson wouldn’t be until after Christmas; he’d had to cancel his Tuesday lesson because of something going on at the school. She found herself humming “Pop Goes the Weasel,” then forced herself to switch to a Christmas carol.
❧
“Hi, Jed. You’re right on time, as usual.”
Jillian watched as Jed toed off his large cowboy boots and pushed them onto the mat with his foot. Trying to be discreet, she checked his boots as he hung his jacket on the coatrack, and bit back a smile when she noticed that the right boot had a prominent and permanent scuff mark on the back. As she did every lesson, Jillian sat in the chair beside the piano bench and smiled at him with her practiced teacher smile.
Jed turned to her with an animated grin. “I practiced, Miss Jefferson!”
Jillian wondered when he could possibly have found the time during the hectic holiday season, but she said nothing. Everything had been such a rush for her as well. She had delivered a small Christmas gift to all of her students, and as usual, some of them had given her small token gifts in return.
She had been surprised to receive two gifts from the Edwards household. Mark had given her a chocolate Santa, and Jed had given her a small Christmas tree ornament that played an electronic Christmas carol when a small button was pressed. She would never again hear “Silent Night” without thinking of him. But the tree was down now and the Christmas decorations all put away, and now lessons could start with renewed enthusiasm for the new year.
Just to see what kind of response he’d get, Jed raised his hands to the keyboard, smiled playfully at Jillian, and winked. He’d missed her. Even though he’d phoned a number of times, with all the rush and bustle of the Christmas season they never did have a chance to get together. And until today, when the kids had gone back to school, he’d had to stay home to baby-sit. But he’d had plenty of time to think about her.
“Jed, you’re slouching. Holidays are over, and it’s time to concentrate.”
Jed grinned, straightened his back, and returned his thoughts to the music in front of him. Mark had been right. Mark warned him that “Miss Jefferson gets superstrict about sitting still after the holidays are over.” Unlike Mark, though, he had no trouble settling down and keeping his feet on the floor.
“Come on now, Jed. Don’t forget your proper hand position.”
He tried not to laugh. He had no trouble with his hand position either. Most of the time he placed his hands wrong on purpose, just so she’d touch him. He noticed at some point she saw through him, and started to verbally remind him instead of actually repositioning his hands. She called it a “friendly reminder” when he playfully complained about her nagging.
He sucked in a deep breath to help focus his concentration. If he did these three songs to her satisfaction, including the dreaded “Pop Goes the Weasel,” he would pass Book One. He had tried his best to practice with everyone home, but he’d had to battle Mark for the piano. The noise and activity nearly drove him to distraction. At least Betsy had been interested enough in a new video he had bought for her to let him practice uninterrupted for a while this morning.
He made a few mistakes on the first song, but she took him at his word that he had played it perfectly at home, and she passed him anyway. Of course, playing it by himself at home would never compare to the duet during lesson time. He always enjoyed the fancy stuff she played an octave lower to fill out the sound, once he got it right. She promised that one day he would be able to do the same.
Jed managed to play the second song without error, but Jillian still pointed out his uneven timing and a number of other inconsistencies, which he knew without her “friendly reminder.”
He tried not to be disappointed. “Does this mean you’re not going to pass me? It wasn’t that bad, was it?” He wanted to pass Book One so bad he could barely sit still. He was so sick of the kiddy stuff; he wanted to play something good.
“Of course, it wasn’t that bad, but I know you can do better. As an adult, my expectations are higher for you than the kids, even Mark. You have to remember that no matter how good you do at a song, you will never, ever, achieve perfection. There will always be something you feel you could have done better. Music is personal. No matter how near perfe
ct you get it, every time you play it, it’s different. Sometimes it changes with the mood you’re in at the time. Am I making sense?”
Jed thought about it. Maybe he could see her point with the complicated stuff that Jillian played, but he didn’t see how that affected “Pop Goes the Weasel.” “I think so,” he replied uncertainly. “I know I’m playing these kiddy songs different here than at home with Mark and Betsy running around screaming. At home I was annoyed and getting mad at them, and here I’m nervous.”
Jillian crossed her arms and stared at him. “They’re not ‘kiddy’ songs. They’re ‘beginner’ songs. And what do you mean, I make you nervous?”
He grinned back. “I guess it’s this thing I have from back in high school. Teachers are so intimidating.”
“But you want to teach high school literature.”
“And I should be good at it. I can be very intimidating too if I want to be.”
Jillian stared blankly at him, and he couldn’t even begin to guess her thoughts. “That’s enough,” she said. “Let’s get back to the lesson. It’s almost time for you to go, and I’m still waiting in anticipation to hear your favorite song.”
He knew which one she was referring to without asking. Jed grimaced. “It’s not my favorite song. And I don’t have to worry about the time today. Betsy is going to a birthday party after school, and I don’t have to pick her up. If you don’t mind, I thought I’d stay for Mark’s lesson.”
First, she grinned, then her smile quickly dropped to a frown. “Good. Then you can see how well Mark behaves at his lesson. Often he runs here from school; I can tell because he’s panting, but he won’t admit it.” She sat back in her chair, tapping her chin with her pencil, waiting for him to play.
He couldn’t stall any longer. “Here we go,” Jed said flatly, taking a deep breath as he positioned himself properly. “ ‘Pop Goes the Weasel,’ the whole thing, adding the missing verse, playing by ear.” He hesitated, then destroyed his proper posture by turning and sitting almost sideways on the bench to look at her. “You know, I’ve been humming this stupid thing all weekend, trying to figure out the whole song, so I hope you’re satisfied with yourself.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned back to the piano and repositioned himself in a huff.
Jillian tried unsuccessfully to repress a smile. “Temper, temper. Remember, the mood you’re in affects the way you play the song.”
“Then this weasel is going to really go ‘pop,’ ” he grumbled under his breath, “and it will serve him right.”
Jed prepared himself to start playing one more time, resigning himself to the fact that she really was going to make him play the silly song. He had the unwritten part all figured out and memorized at home, and now he would see how well he did under pressure, with Jillian sitting behind him, her arms crossed, listening and analyzing him.
Jillian listened to a meticulously played “Pop Goes the Weasel,” the missing lines perfectly filled in. She really couldn’t justify his constant complaining about it. She’d been humming it to herself all week, too.
“That was great, Jed! Now I’ll play the accompaniment.” As happened every time she played her part of the duet, her leg pressed up against his as they sat side by side on the bench. Even though this happened twice a week, she still found the sensation unnerving, not to mention distracting.
Together, they played the song again, Jillian following his lead, making a rousing musical “pop!” at the end of the song.
“Do I pass now?”
“You sure do.”
Jed lifted both hands in the air in triumph. “Yippee! I’ve finished the kiddy songs!” He turned and gave Jillian such a heart-stopping smile, her breath caught. Slight crinkles at the corners of his gorgeous blue eyes emphasized how genuine his smile was. “So, what do I get for passing the book? You never gave me a single sticker. Mark shows me his stickers every week, you know.”
“I don’t know,” Jillian gulped. “Suggest something.”
Jed wiggled his eyebrows, only adding to the allure of his wide smile. “Dinner?”
“Dinner?” she echoed weakly.
His eyes twinkled. “Name the place. Your treat.”
“My treat?” She wondered what she was getting suckered into. “I’ll think about it.”
The smile dropped to an exaggerated pout. “What do you mean, think about it? What do I get for passing?”
Jillian reached over and patted him on the head like a dog. “Congratulations, you pass. Good boy.”
They both burst into peals of laughter, her hand still resting on the top of his head. His hair felt wonderfully thick and soft, and she twirled a few strands in her fingers, amazed at the feel of it. Wavy and untamed, the gentle shade of light brown blended perfectly with his clear blue eyes. Her fingers played with one of the flowing waves, which always seemed to have a mind of its own. No matter how she twisted it, it always sprang back to where it wanted to go. Strong and unfettered, it suited him.
Jed’s eyes drifted shut, and he automatically leaned his head into her hand. As much as she liked to look into his dreamy blue eyes, with his eyes closed, Jed’s expression became totally unguarded. The sweet half-smile on his face along with his unconscious sigh was Jillian’s undoing.
She felt herself shudder as his hands slipped around her waist. She closed her eyes and leaned into his solid chest as she continued to play with his hair.
At the same moment, they both opened their eyes and murmured each other’s names. Her eyes drifted shut again as she welcomed his kiss. The part of her that warned her against becoming involved with Jed lost the battle as his kiss deepened and he stroked her back, sending hot shivers all the way through her.
Jed pulled away first, and Jillian immediately missed the contact. Rather than separate from him completely, she remained still, only inches from him.
When he kissed her again, Jillian melted completely into him. Her heart pounded as he showered her with countless short, gentle kisses.
“Eeewww! Gross! Uncle Jed! Miss Jefferson!”
Jillian and Jed bolted apart. Mark stood in the hall entrance, staring at them with his mouth hanging open.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jed running his fingers through his hair to brush it back off his face. “Guess what, Mark?” Jillian noticed a quaver in Jed’s voice as he spoke. “I passed Book One.”
Jillian’s brain refused to function, and words would not form. Her best student had just caught her sitting at the piano kissing his uncle Jed, and not just a peck on the cheek, either.
Mark didn’t move. He clutched his book to his chest and stood stock-still, his eyes wide. “Well, forget it. If you ran out of stickers, you’re not kissing me!”
Jillian was mortified. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
Jed jumped to his feet. “It’s okay, Mark. She only kissed me because I asked her to. Right, Miss Jefferson?”
Trying to regain her composure, she looked up at Jed. “Um, yes, Uncle Jed. That’s right.” She sucked in a deep breath and wished she could settle the frantic thumping of her heart. “Don’t worry, Mark, I still have lots of stickers. Come on, have a seat and let’s get started.”
She couldn’t face Jed as Mark sat on the bench, watching her out of the corner of his eye as he squirmed into position, apparently still not certain if he could trust her. Jillian tried to control the shaking of her hands as she smoothed her hair back, then settled into her own chair beside the piano bench. Jed sank down onto the couch reserved for parents who stayed to watch the lessons.
Coming down from the adrenaline rush, Jillian’s knees trembled as she tried to concentrate on Mark and his piano lesson and not on his uncle Jed, who patiently listened as Mark diligently played the songs he had practiced so hard.
When she wasn’t watching him, Jed watched Jillian as she struggled to maintain her dignity with Mark. However, he could tell by her shaking hands and slight tremble in her voice that she wasn’t entirely successful.
If he were alone, he would have retired to a quiet place to pray for guidance. Since he couldn’t, he did his best to calm his mind and ask God for help, and then, most of all, for wisdom.
Jillian pointed out a few more things for Mark to work on, then dismissed him. Her next student was waiting.
Jed wished he could say something before he left, but Mark already had left the piano. The next student was settling in, so Jed followed Mark to the shoe tray and stepped into his boots. He tried to make eye contact, but Jillian avoided him.
Very politely, Mark opened the door in silence. “Come on, Uncle Jed,” he said in a stage whisper, beckoning to him. “It’s time to go!”
As Jed closed the door behind him, he finally met Jillian’s eyes. She wasn’t smiling.
eight
Jed walked home, his steps heavy, as Mark hopped along beside him, bouncing with his excitement over the new stickers in his book. Jed did not share his enthusiasm.
“See, Uncle Jed, I passed, and she didn’t have to kiss me,” Mark chattered. “And now you’re all done with Book One! That’s so totally radical, Uncle Jed! When we get home, I’ll get Book Two out for you. There’s way better songs in it. I’ll show you the best ones, and show you my cheater notes. Just don’t tell Miss Jefferson about them. And then we can. . .”
Jed did not feel very radical. He let Mark prattle on, barely paying attention to what the kid was saying. All Jed could think of was Jillian. He was falling hard and fast, despite his resolution to avoid getting involved in a relationship. Time and time again, Jillian proved she was nothing like Brenda. Jillian was in a class by herself. Professional, dignified, intelligent, and beautiful. And honest and unselfish. And from what he had seen so far, a dedicated Christian. No one could compare.