Piano Lessons

by Gail Sattler

  He seemed not to notice. All his attention was focused outside the large windows. “This is quite the bird’s-eye view from here. I wonder if we’ll be able to see Liz’s house.” He turned and grinned at her. Jillian’s heart skipped a beat. “Or your house.”

  Before she could reply, the waiter returned to inquire about bar selections and present them with their menus, allowing Jillian time to compose herself. They both ordered coffee to start, and the waiter left.

  She reached across the table, brushing her fingers against his arm as she spoke. “Order whatever you want, Jed. This is my treat, and the sky’s the limit. You deserve it. I’ve never heard ‘Pop Goes the Weasel’ done so well in my life.”

  Jed grunted. “Come on now, Jillian, I feel silly playing all that kiddy stuff. And you’re going to be sorry you said that. What if I ordered the most expensive thing on the menu? You’re going to wish you had simply given me a sticker.”

  She laid her menu flat on the table. “Don’t feel silly; everyone has to start somewhere. It’s not so simple when you’re first learning. I played all that kiddy stuff too, you know.”

  “I know you did,” he grumbled, “but when you did it you were probably eight years old. I’m a little older than that.”

  “I was six. As you can probably guess, I poured my heart and soul into the piano as a child. And that’s beside the point. If it’s any consolation, I admire you for starting now, as an adult. You’ve got guts. I hope you stick with it.”

  Jed turned his head to look out the window. “What every man wants to hear from a woman,” he mumbled. “He’s got guts.”

  Just like a little boy who didn’t like being told he couldn’t have a cookie before dinner, Jed’s head lowered, and his lower lip stuck out. In all his masculine attire, Mickey Mouse tie aside, Jed’s image presented quite a contrasting picture to his little-boy pout. Jillian bit her lower lip, but failed to control her laughter. First, she giggled, sputtering to hold back, then she covered her mouth with both hands. In the end, she burst into laughter, anyway. At that moment the waiter arrived to take their orders, giving her time to collect herself.

  Resting her finger on the menu, she gave the waiter her order between giggles, then watched him write down both orders. When he left, Jed was staring at her.

  “I love to watch you laugh. You know, you’re as pretty as your name.”

  She couldn’t help it. She blushed.

  “Your name is so delightful. Jillian Jefferson. It suits you. What’s your middle name?”

  Jillian’s cheeks heated up even more. “It’s silly. Forget it.”

  “No, come on, tell me.”

  “June. My full name is Jillian June Jefferson.”

  “Alliteration. Effective. And beautiful.”

  Jillian’s mouth gaped. She ignored the “beautiful” comment—but alliteration? She hadn’t heard the term since high school. Up until now, she couldn’t imagine Jed teaching high school literature. Maybe it wasn’t so far off after all. “Well, what’s your middle name? And I’ll bet Jed is short for Jedediah.”

  He sighed and closed his eyes. “Jedediah. Beloved of the Lord.”

  “Come on, Jed, your middle name. I told you mine, so you can tell me yours.”

  “Ezekiel,” he mumbled. “It means strength of God. My mother really did her homework.”

  Jillian snickered. Jed shrunk in his chair. “Jedediah Ezekiel Davies. Your initials are J.E.D., the name Jed. I like it.”

  “My mother thought it was cute.” He sneered on the word “cute.”

  “Yes, it is cute.” Jillian tried not to giggle again, but failed. “It suits you.”

  Jed straightened, sitting tall in the chair, emphasizing his size and the masculine width of his shoulders. “Get serious. Do I look ‘cute’ to you?”

  All she could do was stare. He was a long way past cute.

  Jed lowered his head. “Let’s change the subject,” he mumbled.

  Her eyes softened, then became misty. “You’re a nice man, Jedediah Ezekiel Davies.”

  Fortunately, their dinners arrived, sparing him the need for a response. The only time anyone ever used his horrible name was when his mother was furious at something really stupid he’d done, but when Jillian said it in that honey sweet voice, it was different. Her words and tone rushed over him, piercing him all the way to his soul. And his heart.

  Jed said a short prayer of thanks over their meal. By the time they finished dinner and dessert, they had indeed made one complete revolution, just as the waiter promised.

  When the bill came, Jillian scooped it up before he had the chance to touch it. Before he could protest, Jillian silenced him with a look that would have stopped a herd of wild elephants, then smiled sweetly at the waiter and handed him her credit card.

  She turned to him when the waiter left. “I told you this was my treat, Jed. You deserve it. Now, don’t insult me by trying to be gallant.”

  Jed tried to smile and hoped it didn’t look as phony as it felt. He really hadn’t been serious, nor had he thought she would take him seriously. “Next weekend, will you let me take you out and it’ll be my treat?”

  She shook her head. “No. I didn’t do this to take turns. I wanted to treat you because you deserve it for all your hard work. Now be quiet and quit complaining.”

  Jed tried to appear casual on the outside, but inside, he was all choked up. Of course, it was only dinner, but this was the first time a woman had ever treated him to anything other than small birthday gifts. Brenda certainly never had.

  At the time, he thought he’d fallen in love, and he thought Brenda loved him back. At first, they’d had fun together, and he gladly shared everything he had with her. Before long, she started asking for things, small things, then more expensive items she claimed to need, and then later, she claimed to be desperate and asked him for what she called a small loan, just for a few months. Since he was saving for college, however, the loan had not been small for him.

  The next day he stopped by Brenda’s house after work to discover Brenda and everything she owned—and everything of his she’d borrowed—were gone. Even though she’d asked for it, he hadn’t given her the key to his condo, and he was glad now he hadn’t, or else she would have cleaned that out, too. He hadn’t been able to find her. No one, not even her parents, knew where she went, but her neighbor, a supposed friend of hers, a man, mysteriously packed up and moved out the same day.

  She’d said she loved him, and he’d believed her. From that day on, he swore he’d never allow himself to be used like that again. She had bled him dry from both his heart and his bankbook, at the same time, forcing him to postpone his dream of a college education. The next day, he’d been told the plant was closing, and as corporate secretary, Brenda would have known that beforehand. Half the town, himself included, was suddenly unemployed. Through God’s grace, he found another job quickly, except he had to sell his condo and move quickly. If it wasn’t for Liz’s needing a sitter, he could never have saved enough money for college while paying for a place to stay in Vancouver, where accommodation was far more expensive.

  The waiter returned with Jillian’s credit card and the receipt for her signature. Jed couldn’t help but stare as she tucked it into her wallet, then back into her purse.

  Jed was flabbergasted. What he felt for Brenda could in no way compare to how he felt about Jillian; he really hadn’t been in love at all, he realized now. Friends, yes, and she’d played on his sympathies and tugged on his heartstrings to get what she wanted. But that was all. His feelings for Brenda were nothing like what he felt now for Jillian.

  All his defenses came crashing down as Jillian smoothed her skirt, then folded her hands on the table, and smiled sweetly. His throat constricted. His last excuse was gone. He had no choice left but to admit to himself he was helplessly and hopelessly in love with Jillian Jefferson, the piano teacher.

  “Ready to go?” she asked, completely unaware of the confused state of his heart. Jed
stood and escorted her to the elevator door.

  “How would you like to go up a floor and walk around the observation deck?” Jed asked as they waited for the elevator. He needed time to think. He couldn’t let the evening end yet.

  Jillian smiled and pressed the “up” button.

  When the elevator door swooshed shut behind them as they entered the observation level, Jed gently grasped Jillian’s hand. She didn’t pull away, so he slowly led her around the perimeter, gazing out the window at the bright lights of the city shining below.

  Alone in the semidarkness of the observation deck, talk was unnecessary, allowing Jed to enjoy Jillian’s company in silence. They walked slowly, hand in hand, looking out the window of the observation room. No noise disturbed them, no appointments loomed, no schedules needed to be met. Except for the slight drone of the restaurant under them, they could have been alone in the universe, the city lights stretched out beneath them, miniature cars inching their silent way on the streets far below.

  Jillian stopped to point out a few of the older landmark buildings in the area. When she leaned on the rail, then touched her finger to the glass, Jed slipped his hands around her waist. She didn’t protest. He wanted to never let her go. She slid within the circle of his hands until she faced him, then rested her palms on his chest, keeping them a respectable distance apart. Jed didn’t feel like being respectable.

  His voice came out much lower pitched than it should have. “Is this where I’m supposed to thank you for a lovely evening, or do I wait until we get home? I’ve never had a woman take me out before, and I’m not sure what to do.” He forced himself to smile. “And I’d like to know what you’re going to do to top this when I pass Book Two.”

  Jillian’s voice also came out soft and husky, doing more strange things to his insides. “I don’t know. We’ve barely started.”

  His fingers found their way into her hair. “That’s true, we haven’t really.” Jed couldn’t believe the direction of their conversation. The lesson book was the furthest thing from his mind. The thing foremost in his thoughts was Jillian’s sweetness, the silky feel of her hair, and the slight herbal fragrance of her shampoo. As he ran his fingers over the silken strands, Jillian’s eyes drifted shut, and before he could talk himself out of it, Jed closed his eyes, lowered his head, and kissed her. When her arms floated up around his neck, Jed wondered if he’d died and gone to heaven. In the background, soft music played, adding to the atmosphere of romance.

  He’d never been the romantic type, but Jed couldn’t stop his emotions from spiraling out of control. Before someone walked in on them, Jed reluctantly ended the kiss, but rather than let the moment end, he held her tight. She fit just right in his arms, her head neatly tucked beneath his chin. Deep in his heart, he knew tonight was special.

  Ever since she’d lost control and poured out her sad story to him, he’d found himself praying for her at the oddest times. At some point, his prayers had changed. Rather than only wanting to provide comfort and stability to her, he had started to pray that she would respond to him on more than a mentor level, that she would see him as a friend, then as more than just a friend, as the soul mate to share his hopes and dreams and his future. He wanted so much to pour his heart out to her, to shower her with words of love and devotion, but he doubted she was ready to hear them.

  He ran his hands up her back, then released her. “I think it’s time for me to take you home.”

  More than ever before, Jed impressed Jillian with his manners, both when he escorted her back to his truck, and when they arrived at her house. He appeared at the door of the truck, extending his hand to help her out before she even realized he was there. He’d been strangely silent on the drive home, but more than silent, what little he did say was ominously serious.

  Although unsure of whether or not to invite him in, she didn’t want the evening to end, so Jillian invited Jed in for a cup of tea. He graciously accepted, without commenting on how much he hated her favorite blend. The omission worried her.

  As she poured the water, she peeked over her shoulder at him. His size dwarfed her small kitchen. She compared his appearance today to the last time he had been in her kitchen. On his way home from work that night, he hadn’t looked like this. In contrast to his almost elegant attire tonight, his clothes then were worn, torn, and dirty. But it wasn’t his garments that made the difference; it was something else, something she couldn’t put her finger on.

  “Relax, Jed, you’re making me nervous,” she quipped, trying to sound light. She wished she could figure out what it was.

  Jed leaned back in the chair, raising his arms, linking his fingers behind his head. He rested his feet on one of the chairs, crossed his ankles, and grinned. “Better?”

  Jillian stared. Even the silly pose could not undermine his size and attractiveness. His dimples and white smile nearly made her heart stop. The usual lock of hair dangled rakishly onto his forehead, magnifying his good looks. “You have big feet,” she stammered.

  “What?” His grin dropped, he wiggled his toes, then smiled again. “At least you didn’t say I have a hole in my socks.”

  Jillian waited for the kettle to boil, then poured water into the teapot to steep, and after a few minutes, poured the tea into two cups. The entire time, Jed said nothing, a sure indication that something was up. Slowly, she raised her teacup, hoping she could control the shaking of her hands as she gently sipped her tea. Jed straightened in the chair, following her lead.

  On his first cautious sip, he grimaced, squeezed his eyes shut, and shook his head. “Yuck! This is that boiled straw again!” He opened his eyes and set the teacup on the table. “First, you make fun of me; now, you’re trying to poison me.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Jillian gently lowered her cup to the saucer. His sour expression did indeed indicate he seriously thought he was being poisoned.

  Jed closed his eyes and shook his head again. The one stray lock of unruly hair bounced with his movement. “This is the same putrid concoction you gave me before.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. The old Jed was back.

  As if trying to save face, he took another cautious sip, then again grimaced in distaste. “This brew rates up there with ‘Pop Goes the Weasel.’ Just so you appreciate me, I’ll let you know, I’m only drinking this to be polite.”

  Appreciate him? Jillian appreciated him in ways she dared not admit. To distract herself, she took another sip of her tea. “For your information, it’s good for you. It’s a special blend, a selection meant to be enjoyed, an herbal mixture meant to aid relaxation. And don’t tell me that only your mother can tell you what’s good for you. I’m your teacher, and don’t you ever forget it.”

  “Oh, so you’re not trying to poison me, you’re trying to put me to sleep.” His eyes twinkled as he spoke.

  “If you do go to sleep, at least I’ll know it’s the tea, and not that I’m boring you,” she retorted, unable to suppress a grin.

  Jed lowered his cup to the table, then reached across to cover both her hands with one of his. His large hand dwarfed hers completely. “You’ll never bore me, Jillian.”

  Unable to respond, she yanked her hands out from under his, but in doing so, her elbow caught the edge of her teacup. The cup rattled against the saucer, then tipped, spilling the tea, sending a large puddle flowing over the tabletop. Jed jumped to his feet a split second before a waterfall of hot tea cascaded onto his chair, then dribbled onto the floor.

  Jillian raised both hands to her lips. “Ooh, Jed, I’m so sorry!” She tried to stand, but Jed stopped her by resting one hand on her shoulder, preventing her from moving.

  “Missed me by a mile. You stay there, I’m already up. I’ll get it, before this wonderful substance strips the finish off the table.”

  Using her dishcloth, Jed carefully wiped up every drop, rinsed the cloth, and hung it over the faucet. He pulled down a section of paper towel, and dutifully wiped the chair and floor. “Done,” he stated
simply, wiping his hands on the towel.

  Jillian’s face flamed. Not only had she been so clumsy and spilled her tea, but she sat and watched while her guest cleaned up after her.

  “Want me to pour you some more?” He picked up the teapot and sloshed it around. “There’s still some in here. You didn’t have a tea cozy on it, but it’s probably still warm enough.” He rested his hand on the outside of the teapot, feeling its warmth, then nodded. “I think I can sacrifice not having a second cup if you want it.” He grinned and started pouring it without waiting for her to reply.

  Sitting in the chair, Jillian’s throat constricted as she watched him carefully pour the tea. She didn’t know how to handle her time with Jed. He spent time with her because he enjoyed her company, and he sincerely didn’t want anything she wasn’t willing to give. Totally undemanding, he was fun to be with, but yet he had a serious side, both dependable and respectable. His faith in God was solid and secure, and he lived his life to honor God to the best of his ability. Although in an unconventional way, he was an invaluable support to his family, committing himself to the long term. He could be trusted. Unconditionally.

  Slowly and innocently, he had worked his way into her heart. “Thank you,” she choked out in a whisper. Hopefully, he couldn’t hear the strain in her voice.

  He rinsed out the teapot and set it upside down in the drain board. Jillian didn’t want the tea, but she forced herself to drink it. Jed resumed his position in the now-dry chair, pushed his cup to the center of the table, and watched her as she sipped in silence.

  “You know, I never realized how late it was. I guess I’m used to being up in the middle of the night, working the hours I do.” He stood, pushing the chair in. “I should be going.”

  “Yes, it is late.” Despite the lateness of the hour, and the supposed soothing effect of the tea, the last thing Jillian felt like was sleeping.

  She walked him to the door. He stepped into his shoes, then turned. “Good night, Jillian.”