Chapter 6 - A Piano Nobody Wanted Sold
“No, baby.”
Luca turned Sophie gently toward him.
“Your mother could never be something I wanted to get rid of.”
She looked at the listing in Miriam's folder.
“Then why does it say that?”
He swallowed.
“Because somebody wrote it without asking us.”
Sophie looked toward the piano.
“Can you cross it out?”
Luca took the paper.
Then drew a line through the sentence.
“There.”
She watched him.
“Does that mean it's not true anymore?”
“It was never true.”
He held her close.
“And I should've told you that a long time ago.”
The piano remained beside the restaurant fireplace.
Daniel had instructed the staff not to release it to anyone.
But Miriam still had to resolve the sale.
The buyer arrived shortly before noon.
Her name was Marisol Vega.
She directed a small after-school arts program on Chicago's West Side.
She was in her fifties, with short dark hair and a practical manner.
When she saw Sophie sitting beside the piano, she stopped.
“Oh.”
Luca approached her.
“Mrs. Vega?”
“Marisol, please.”
He introduced himself.
Then explained that the piano had been offered for sale without his knowledge or permission.
Marisol looked toward Miriam.
“I was told the family wanted it donated to a good cause.”
Miriam looked embarrassed.
“The listing said the family wished to release it permanently.”
Marisol nodded.
“That's why I bought it.”
Luca frowned.
“You knew whose piano it was?”
“Of course.”
She glanced toward the instrument.
“I remembered Anna Moretti.”
The restaurant became quiet.
“You knew my wife?”
“Not personally. But years ago, she organized a Christmas music afternoon for some of our students.”
Luca stared at her.
“I didn't know that.”
Marisol smiled sadly.
“She was very kind to them.”
Sophie looked up.
“Mommy taught kids?”
“A few of them, yes.”
Marisol crouched.
“And she never made anyone feel embarrassed about playing a wrong note.”
Sophie smiled faintly.
“That's what she told me too.”
Marisol looked at Luca.
“When I saw the listing, I thought it would be wonderful for another generation of children to learn on her piano.”
Luca lowered his eyes.
For a moment, I watched him struggle with two feelings at once.
He wanted to protect the instrument.
But the woman standing before him hadn't done anything cruel.
She'd wanted to use it for something good.
“I'm sorry,” he said. “I can't let it go.”
Marisol nodded.
“Then it belongs here.”
Miriam agreed to cancel the transaction and refund the deposit.
Before leaving, Marisol turned toward Sophie.
“Keep practicing, okay?”
Sophie nodded.
“I will.”
Then she asked, “Could kids from your school come hear me someday?”
Marisol smiled.
“I think they'd like that.”
Luca looked at his daughter.
For the first time that morning, she seemed excited about something.
Not frightened.
Not guilty.
Simply excited.
After Marisol left, Luca sat beside Sophie at the piano.
“Would you show me what you've been practicing?”
She hesitated.
“Right now?”
“If you want to.”
She placed her fingers on the keys.
Then stopped.
“Daddy, you used to leave when I played Mommy's song.”
Luca went still.
I remembered those afternoons.
Sophie practicing in the sitting room.
Luca walking past the doorway.
Sometimes stopping for a moment.
Then continuing down the hall.
I'd always assumed he was busy.
Now I wondered if Sophie had interpreted those departures differently.
“Did I?” he asked quietly.
She nodded.
“I thought you didn't like hearing it.”
Luca stared at the keys.
Then his eyes filled.
“Sweetheart, I loved hearing it.”
“Then why did you leave?”
He took a breath.
“Because it reminded me how much I missed her.”
Sophie looked confused.
“But I miss her too.”
“I know.”
He swallowed.
“And I should've stayed with you instead of going somewhere to be sad by myself.”
She rested her head against his arm.
“Can you stay next time?”
“Yes.”
“Even if I play it badly?”
He laughed softly.
“Especially then.”
That afternoon, Sophie's maternal grandmother arrived.
Rose Bennett was seventy-two, with soft gray curls and a gentle voice.
She'd been invited by Luca after he realized how much Sophie needed someone who remembered Anna before she'd become a wife and mother.
When Rose entered the restaurant, Sophie ran toward her.
“Grandma!”
Rose caught her in a hug.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
She looked toward the piano.
Then at Luca.
“I heard about the concert.”
His expression fell.
“Rose, I'm sorry.”
She touched his arm.
“We'll talk about that later.”
Then she looked at Sophie.
“First, I want to hear about your medal.”
Sophie brightened.
She showed it to her grandmother.
For several minutes, Rose listened while Sophie explained the solo.
Nobody interrupted her.
Nobody told her she was being dramatic.
And nobody made her feel foolish for being proud.
After lunch, Daniel returned from St. Bridget's Secondhand Center.
He'd checked the donation transfer records in person.
The center had received several boxes from Lakefront Estate Exchange.
Among them was a small wooden music box with painted flowers.
Sophie jumped from her chair.
“They have it?”
Daniel hesitated.
“They received it Friday.”
Luca noticed his expression.
“What happened after that?”
“It was placed in their repair collection.”
“Why?”
“The mechanism wasn't working when they examined it.”
Sophie shook her head.
“But it worked when I played it.”
Daniel nodded.
“I believe you.”
He continued.
“The center sends damaged musical items to a local volunteer workshop.”
“Can we get it back?” Luca asked.
“We're trying.”
Daniel placed the transfer record on the table.
Beside the description of the music box was a second notation.
Rose leaned closer.
Then covered her mouth.
The box had been assigned a workshop category that meant its usable parts could be removed for repairs to other donated items.
Not stored.
Not sold.
Not returned.
SALVAGE FOR PARTS.
Sophie looked at the words.
May you like
Then at her grandmother.
“Grandma, does that mean they might take Mommy's music out of it?”
