by Regina Duke
Meanwhile, she’d been so busy adjusting to her teaching duties, she hadn’t had time to think about it, but upon learning that Jake Farmer was trying to learn, all her musical yearnings returned in force. It wouldn’t hurt to look around a bit. She didn’t expect to find much—people usually traded up for better pianos because their resale value was so high—but she couldn’t stop thinking about Jake (and his handsome father), so she ambled through the store, running her fingers over every chair and couch and desk, until she found the music section way in the back.
“Oh my.” The Yamaha electric keyboard took her breath away. It looked brand new. That couldn’t be right. She approached cautiously, afraid it was an illusion that would evaporate if she got too close. But here it was on a folding stand. She peeked behind it and saw it was plugged in, so she turned it on. The power light worked. But surely there was something wrong with it.
She had to know. She pulled up a chair with an orange sticker on the seat that read “$5.00” and sat down, her fingers poised over the keyboard. She pressed down with a C chord, which came out perfectly, and gave a little squeak of delight when she realized the keyboard was weighted to feel like an acoustic piano. She let her hands take over and played “Mary, Don’t You Know” with her eyes closed.
When she finished, five listeners applauded. “Wonderful!” “You play beautifully.”
The store clerk was one of them. “You need that keyboard,” she said. “Can you play ‘Oh Come All Ye Faithful’?”
Tatum obliged, letting her fingers caress the keys and feeling the music soothe her soul. An hour passed as she played one Christmas favorite after another. When her back began to ache from sitting on the hard wooden chair, she stood up to stretch. There were now ten customers applauding.
“Thank you for letting me play,” she said to the clerk. “I miss my piano so much.”
The clerk said, “You should have this. You’re the first person who has actually sat down and made music on it. Really, it was meant for you.”
Tatum flipped the dangling price tag over and shriveled inside. Three hundred dollars. She shook her head. “I can’t afford it.”
The other customers began to wander away, and the clerk pulled a marker out of her pocket. She drew a line through the price. “What can you afford?”
Tatum’s eyes filled with tears. “I have one hundred seven dollars to last until payday.”
“Where do you work?”
“I’m a teacher at the Barnhart School. First year.”
The clerk smiled. “Do you believe in Christmas miracles?”
Tatum’s mouth opened but she didn’t have words. At last, she choked out, “Yes, I guess I do.” After all, she’d just met Braydon and her Sunday was going to be filled with fun and good company. “I definitely do.”
The clerk wrote $120 on the price tag. “Payable at ten dollars a month over the next year, or whenever you can pay it off.”
“Oh my gosh! You’re kidding!!”
“No kidding. It was brought in years ago by a professional musician who had acquired a newer model and wanted it to go to someone who would love it and play it.”
Tatum’s hands trembled as she pulled out a ten dollar bill. “Do I need to fill out paperwork?”
“No. You live and work here in the Village. I’ve seen you peeking in my windows while I’m stocking merchandise.” She gave an impish smile. “I trust you.”
Tatum laid her hands on the keyboard again. “How will I get you home?” she murmured.
“I’ll be here tomorrow,” said the clerk. “Between noon and three. Marking prices down for Christmas. Perhaps you have a friend who can help you? I’ll loan you a dolly and I’ll put the keyboard in its case.”
Tatum couldn’t help herself. She embraced the woman. “This is a Christmas miracle! Thank you, thank you! Oh. What’s your name?”
“Joy,” said the clerk. “Can I expect you tomorrow?”
“Definitely! And I’d like to look through your stash of music books,” she added.
“Take your time.” Joy pocketed the ten-dollar bill. “I’ll be up front.”
Tatum could barely contain her excitement. She was going to have a piano again! Well, an electric keyboard, but with weighted keys, it was every bit as good, and it would actually fit in her apartment. She fought back tears of gratitude as she looked through the rack of used music. The prices on the piano books were ridiculously low. And one of them, she just had to buy for Jake. Maybe it would get him a little more excited about his lessons. Besides, by helping Jake, she could feel a lot better about telling her father she was working with disadvantaged kids over the break.
She stopped at the cash register with ten music books in her arms.
Joy rang up her purchases. “Great choices. That will be ten dollars.”
Tatum handed over another precious ten. “You have just made my entire Christmas,” she said.
“Wonderful,” said Joy. “So you’ll come shop here again?”
Tatum laughed with delight. “You can count on it.”
She spent the rest of the day rearranging her meager furniture to give the keyboard a place of honor when it arrived. She hoped Braydon wouldn’t mind helping her move it.
She dug through her closet, looking for the last scrap of wrapping paper. She’d sent most of it to her family, carefully taped around their gifts. But she had one piece left, a bright red print with reindeer and Santas on it. She used it to wrap the book she’d found for Jake.
She cooked rice for dinner and settled in front of the TV to watch “A Christmas Carol.” Her library books sat unread on the tiny kitchen table.
CHAPTER 4
Sunday morning, Braydon left Jake at the breakfast table with a box of cereal and instructions to practice for thirty minutes before Tatum arrived. Then he ran downstairs to check on his kitchen and make sure all was well in the shop. He got caught up in re-stocking candy barrels, some of which had been seriously depleted by his offer of barrel candy with any purchase of homemade chocolates. When he glanced at the clock, he realized he hadn’t heard any piano playing while he was downstairs, and it had been nearly forty-five minutes.
He found Jake sitting cross-legged in front of his PlayStation, stuffing dry cereal into his mouth whenever he lost a life in his game.
“Jake, you promised you’d practice. And why aren’t you dressed yet? We’re going out with Tatum today.”
“I’m so close to the next level, Daddy. Just a few more minutes.”
Braydon shook his head. But he couldn’t be angry. Instead he removed the cereal bowl from Jake’s lap, then picked his son up in a fireman’s carry and headed for the boy’s bedroom.
Jake laughed and screamed as they went, and it all ended in a tickle fight on his bed. The game was cut short by the front door buzzer.
“She’s here,” said Braydon. He selected a couple of items from Jake’s dresser. “Put these on. I’ll go let her in.”
A few moments later, he was at the side door of the shop, which led up the stairs to the apartments above. He didn’t have a jacket on, so he jogged to the corner and caught Tatum’s attention.
“We use this door for our living quarters,” he said, waving her over. She looked fantastic. Her red scarf framed her dark hair and complemented her red glasses. Her down coat covered her jeans all the way to her calves. “Gosh, you’re beautiful,” he sighed.
Tatum’s cheeks reddened. “I think I like you,” she said teasingly. “You can tell me I’m beautiful any time you want.”
“You must hear that a lot,” he said, holding the wooden side door open for her. The staircase was brightly lit, and he led the way upstairs.
“Actually,” said Tatum, “I’m the plain one in the family.” She shrugged. “Boys don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses. Remember that from junior high?”
Braydon laughed and ushered her into his apartment. Only then did he realize what a mess the place was. Jake’s toys were everywhere, his bowl of cer
eal sat in front of the TV, and most alarmingly, a carton of milk sat precariously on the piano. Braydon grabbed the milk carton, sighing with relief that Jake hadn’t knocked it over. “Sorry about the mess,” he said.
Tatum shook her head. “No apology necessary. I understand. I have a whole roomful of kids Jake’s age, remember? I spend at least thirty minutes straightening up before I leave for the day.”
“Don’t you have janitors?”
“Sure, but they do the floors and empty the trash. I pick up books and pencils and crayons and tubs of paste…the usual.”
Braydon grinned. “Jake is getting dressed. May I take your coat? I promise to hang it up out of reach.”
Tatum grinned and unzipped her coat, revealing a skinny package wrapped in Christmas paper. “I brought Jake a present.”
Jake’s voice called from the other room, “I heard that! I’m coming!”
His clothes were on, but he was still barefoot.
Braydon stopped him. “Socks and shoes first. Go on.”
Tatum studied Braydon with a practiced eye. “Can I borrow you for my class? I have a few kids who assume all my instructions are for everyone else.”
Braydon hung her coat in the entryway closet, the tidiest part of the apartment. “Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it. You have to sound tough, but be sweet enough that they want to please you.”
“Is that what you do?”
He closed the closet door and considered her question. “Well, I’m pretty good at sounding tough. Trouble is,” he said, lowering his voice, “Jake knows I love him so much, he can almost get away with anything.”
“That’s a great quality in a father. Mine is like that, too.” She looked away and fell silent, folding her arms across her chest.
Braydon was puzzled. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Oh, no, of course not.” Tatum unfolded her arms and moved to the piano. “I just told my dad a little bitty fib to keep him from scraping up airfare for me for Christmas. I guess I feel a little guilty about it.”
“Don’t worry,” said Braydon. “Those little white lies we tell to protect the people we love? That’s what angel wings are made of.”
CHAPTER 5
Tatum smiled. “I never thought of it that way.” She marveled at what a sweet man Braydon was. She sat down at the piano and let her fingers drift over the keys. They seemed to want to play “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” and she let them take over.
Jake’s voice startled her. “You close your eyes when you play.”
Tatum turned to him. “You will, too, someday. Your fingers will make friends with the keys and you won’t even have to look at the music.”
Braydon leaned an elbow on top of the piano. “Right now, he and the keys have more of a karate chop relationship.”
Tatum laughed. “That’s a good one.”
Jake persisted. “You said yesterday that my piano is a precaution…I mean, a percussion instrument. I tried to look inside but nothing moved.”
Tatum said, “That’s because it’s sort of a puzzle box. You have to know the secrets before you can open it.”
Jake’s face lit up. “No kidding?”
Braydon echoed, “No kidding?”
Tatum stood up and flipped the top of the piano open.
“I got that far,” said Braydon.
“I’m too short,” said Jake.
Tatum gave them an all-knowing look. “If your dad will let you stand on the piano bench so you can see, I’ll show you the secrets.”
“Yay!” Jake was already on his knees on the bench. Braydon caught his arm to steady him as he stood up.
“This should be interesting,” he mused.
“Didn’t you ever watch your piano tuner?” asked Tatum.
“Um, no, not really.”
She found the catch inside the front panel and popped it loose. “This one is heavy and takes two hands.” She lifted it carefully and set it on the sofa.
“Wow!” Jake stared intently at the strings and other wooden parts. “What are those?”
“Those are hammers.”
“Really? They’re made of wood,” said Jake in disbelief.
“Metal hammers wouldn’t sound as good, and besides, they might break the strings. Go ahead and play a note.”
Jake did so.
“See? When you press a key, you’re really hitting the strings with a drumstick. Kind of.”
“Oh, I get it. Cool. Look at all those strings. Like a big guitar.”
“Like more than thirty guitars, actually.”
“Neat-o!”
Tatum smiled. “And there’s another secret underneath. Braydon, would you help me put the upper panel back, please?”
“Sure.”
Once it was secure, Tatum said spookily, “Are you ready to see the rest of it? Or is your mind already blown?”
Jake giggled. “Show me, show me.”
Tatum glanced up at Braydon and was caught off guard by the affection she saw in his eyes. She cleared her throat. “Here goes. You can get down now. I need to move the bench.” She proceeded to unfasten the lower panel.
“What are those long things?” asked Jake.
“Those are called the trapwork. When you press one of the pedals, they move the levers to make the sound louder or softer.” She gave Braydon a little shrug. “That’s a simplification, but you get the idea.”
Jake was squatting to get a better look at the workings of the piano. “Awesome,” he said softly. “It’s like I’m playing a Transformer, only it’s not a car.”
“I like that,” said Braydon. “And lucky for you, Jake, because you’re too young to drive.”
Tatum refastened the lower panel. “Now do you feel better about your piano?”
Jake nodded eagerly. “And you brought me a present?”
Braydon rolled his eyes, but Tatum matched Jake’s enthusiasm.
“Yes, I did! Look what you can play…someday…with a little practice.”
Jake ripped the paper off the music book and squinted at the cover. “Oh my gosh! Star Wars! Does it really sound like the movie?”
“You tell me,” said Tatum. She opened the book and began to play.
Jake was ecstatic. “When can I start? Why doesn’t my piano teacher give me good stuff like this?”
Tatum beamed. “I’m glad you like it. We can start today, but I need to ask your father a favor.”
Braydon nodded. “Anything.”
“I found a keyboard for myself at the One-Two-Three, and I need help getting it to my apartment. Joy said she’ll be there between noon and three.”
“No problem.” He tilted his head. “You mean you play like this and you don’t have an instrument?”
“It was my parents’ piano. And it wouldn’t fit in my suitcase.”
Jake thought she was hilarious.
Braydon glanced at the time. “Why don’t we start with breakfast? Or brunch? After that, we can go move your keyboard.”
The rest of the day flew by. Tatum found Braydon so easy to talk to. And he seemed to feel the same way. For every story she told, he told two. By the end of the day, she felt like she’d known him all her life.
They bought Jake a Christmas tree and spent three hours decorating it. Then they went ice skating on the Village pond.
“Don’t worry,” said Braydon. “It’s artificial. No one falls through the ice here.”
Tatum found ice skating a challenge, but Jake thought she was the funniest skater ever, and Braydon had lots of opportunities to pull her into his arms, as she flailed about on the ice. She’d grown up in California. They didn’t ice skate much.
After hot dogs for dinner, and Tatum’s confession that she was down to eighty-seven dollars until payday, they headed home. Jake was ready to be carried, and Braydon hefted him up on one arm.
They stood in front of her apartment building. It was getting dark, and Jake was asleep on his father’s shoulder.
Braydon said softly, “I
had the best time ever.”
“Me, too,” said Tatum, letting him squeeze her hand. “I think Jake had fun, too.”
“I’ll probably pay for letting him have that extra hot dog. I expect a tummy ache at three a.m.”
“Oh, what a dear. He’s got the greatest personality.” She dropped her eyes shyly. “Just like his dad.”
Braydon bent at the knees and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on her lips.
The spark that rushed through her made Tatum’s eyes glow with feeling. “Wow.” She put a hand behind his head and kissed him softly back.
“Double wow,” whispered Braydon. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
“I’m free until school starts. But you have a candy store to run.”
Braydon nodded, then brightened. “How would you feel about a part-time job during the break. I need counter help in the worst way. You’d get some extra cash, and I’d be able to find out…”
“Find out what?”
“Find out whether you can stand to be around me all day at work.”
Tatum felt like another miracle had fallen into her lap. “What time shall I arrive?”
CHAPTER 6
The next five days made Tatum feel she’d made the right decision about not letting her dad fly her home. In the morning, she was up at six, playing her keyboard. At nine, she was selling candy. Some of the customers were parents of the kids in her class, and that made for great conversations.
Braydon’s teenage helper took over at one every day, and Tatum had Jake waiting impatiently at his piano, desperate to learn some Star Wars music. His regular music teacher had taken December off, so she didn’t feel like she was stepping on anyone’s toes. Besides, Jake needed some help to make him fall in love with his Transformer. She taught him some riffs and a boogie-woogie beat. Her talent for teaching extended to music, and after giving lessons for four years during college, she had a lot of tricks up her sleeve to use on the young ones.