Part 4 (1/2)

”One for my master, one for my dame, and one for the little boy who lives down the lane,” I continued.

”What do I have to do to make you stop?” Amelia asked.

I stopped singing. ”Play Monopoly with me,” I said.

”Just one game?”

”One game,” I agreed.

”And if I do, then you'll let me practice?”

”Yes,” I said, adding, ”At least for today.”

”Fine,” Amelia said, spitting the word out. ”I'll play one stupid game of stupid Monopoly with you.”

”Good,” I said sweetly. ”I'll set the board up on the kitchen table.”

Thirty minutes later, I owned most of the real estate on the board, and had built at least one hotel on each property. Amelia was playing, but without any enthusiasm or effort. She rolled the dice and paid whatever fines she accrued, but didn't buy a single property. It was pretty obvious that her goal was to go bankrupt as quickly as possible in order to end the game.

”Pa.s.sive-aggressive Monopoly,” I said as she handed over the rent on the luxury property I'd built on Park Place. ”This is fun. Is it my turn?”

Amelia didn't reply. She'd stayed mute throughout the game, keeping her lips pressed together in a tight, white line.

I rolled the die. ”One, two, three . . . oh, look, I landed on Community Chest.”

The game was over in a record forty-two minutes. Amelia paid over the last of her rent money to me, and then, still not saying a word, she stood, turned, and marched back to the living room. A moment later, the sound of piano music drifted back into the kitchen.

As I stared down at my Monopoly empire, I couldn't help thinking the whole exercise had been pointless. True, I had gotten Amelia away from her piano for a while. But it hadn't been the bonding experience I'd hoped for. In fact, if anything, I'd just alienated her even further. With a frustrated sigh, I swept the pieces of the Monopoly game back in the box.

After that, the rest of the day pa.s.sed much as the day before had. Amelia spent all morning and afternoon practicing, breaking only for lunch, which she ate in silence. We ate lunch together, but Amelia refused to speak to me.

No matter how hard I tried to concentrate on my writing, my thoughts kept drifting away like puffy clouds in a blue summer sky. I wondered what would happen between Dex and me if I decided to move to London to live with Sadie. Would we stay together, or break up? We hadn't been dating all that long, and I'd heard long-distance relations.h.i.+ps were hard to sustain even between people who'd been together for a while. Then I thought of Charlie, and how she'd lost herself when she was dating Mitch, and that I didn't ever want to be that sort of person-the kind who puts her boyfriend ahead of everything else in her life.

I shook my head, trying to dislodge all thoughts of this dilemma. I had to make a decision soon, but I didn't have to figure it out today. I redoubled my efforts with my story, but no matter how hard I tried to concentrate, I found myself instead listening to Amelia's music. The song she was playing was absolutely beautiful, slow and soothing. I wondered what it was. Another Haydn piece? I tried to figure out if it sounded like what she'd been playing earlier, but quickly gave up-I just didn't know enough about music to distinguish one cla.s.sical piece from another.

I stood, abandoning my writing, and walked back to the living room, irresistibly drawn to the music. I didn't think Amelia had noticed my arrival. I stood behind a wing chair and out of her line of sight, and listened to her play. The song grew in intensity, unfolding as she coaxed the melody out of the keys. I'd always thought that cla.s.sical music was boring. But this certainly wasn't. As I listened, the fine hairs on my arms stood on end. Amelia finished the piece and sat so still for a moment that I wondered if she'd fallen under her own spell.

I clapped. ”That was amazing,” I said.

Amelia started, and turned around. Her expression was wary, suspicious that I was here to coerce her into partic.i.p.ating in another nonmusical activity.

”What's the name of it?” I asked.

”It's Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata,” Amelia said. ”It's a really famous piece.”

”I can see why. Look at my arm.” I held it up. ”I have goose b.u.mps. But I think that might have more to do with your playing than anything else.”

I wasn't humoring her. Amelia was an extraordinarily gifted musician. She played with such grace and feeling, the music soared inside me in a way I'd never experienced before, and especially not with cla.s.sical music.

Amelia bowed her head. ”Thanks,” she said, almost begrudgingly.

”Play me something else,” I suggested.

Amelia looked up. ”Really?”

”Yes.”

”What do you want to hear?”

”You pick. Anything,” I said. I sat down on the white wing chair and folded my hands on my lap.

Amelia considered my request, and for a moment, I thought she was going to refuse. But then she shrugged one shoulder, lifted her fingers to the keyboard, and began to play. This piece was quite different from the last. Her fingers danced over the keyboard, teasing the song out, while I leaned back in my chair and let the music wash over me.

Chapter Six.

”I'm impressed. I had no idea you were so devious, Miranda,” Dex said that evening.

We were sitting in the theater while we waited for our movie to start, sharing a large popcorn with extra b.u.t.ter. One of the many things I liked about Dex was that his appet.i.te was as large as mine. I could never be one of those girls who claim to get full grazing on lettuce leaves and carrot sticks.

”What do you mean?” I asked, reaching for a handful of popcorn.

”You totally played Amelia,” Dex said.

”No, I didn't,” I said.

”Sure you did,” Dex said. ”She wasn't talking to you before, right? But then you complimented her, schmoozed her up, and ta-da -now you're best buddies.”

”Ta-da? There was no ta- da,” I said. ”First of all, we're not best buddies. We've only just gotten to the point where she'll stay in the same room with me. And second, I wasn't trying to manipulate her into liking me.”

”Deny it all you want,” Dex said. ”But it's hard to argue with results. Didn't you say she agreed to go to that pottery painting place with you tomorrow?” He smiled at me in a way that made my stomach flutter. ”That's definite progress.”

Amelia had agreed to go to the pottery studio with me, which I considered a minor victory. I hadn't expected her to go along with the idea when I proposed it, but she surprised me.

”Sure,” Amelia had said, shrugging. ”It's better than stupid Monopoly.”

I now reached for another handful of popcorn, tossing the b.u.t.tery kernels into my mouth one at a time. ”I was going to suggest we go to the pool, but Amelia can't swim.”

”Really?” Dex frowned. ”That's not very safe, especially when you live in a town surrounded by water.”

”That's what I thought,” I said. ”You're a lifeguard. Do you ever give swimming lessons?”

”I could. Does she want to learn how to swim?” Dex asked.

I shrugged. ”Probably not, but I'll ask her. Although considering how contrary Amelia is, I'd probably have better luck if I use reverse psychology. I'll tell her that under no circ.u.mstances is she ever allowed near a pool. She'll be swimming laps within a week just to prove me wrong.”

”See? You are devious,” Dex said.