His mouth fell open, and his eyes went wide. He looked past me again, and I realized immediately that he was thinking I had somehow materialized out of thin air. It brought a smile to my face, too. "A taxicab brought me," I explained.
"Oh. I didn't hear it," he said. "My wife was playing the piano."
"Who's there, Brice?" I heard a woman call from the living room.
"It's Celeste Atwell," he called and stepped back. "Come in, come in," he urged.
"Who?" I heard, and looked at the living room doorway to see Pru Farley. She was a very pretty woman about my height. She had green eyes the shade mine often took, and dark brown hair. Her features were small, but she had full lips, and a sharp angle to her jawbone made her high cheekbones seem even more prominent. She was slimmer than I was, and longer legged. Her hair lay softly, curling up at the ends.
"It's our landlord," Brice said with amusement. "Celeste Atwell."
"Really?" Pru said, stepping toward me. "How did you get here?"
"She said a taxicab," Brice explained. "Come in, come in," Brice continued, taking the suitcase from me.
"Yes," Pru said, stepping back. "Come into the living room."
I saw them look at each other with expressions of amazement and confusion.
I paused as soon as I stepped into the living room. The furnishings were different, but the piano was the same, and sat exactly where it had always been. A cream-colored area rug had been placed beneath it.
"Please, sit anywhere," Pm said.
I nodded, but I had to walk to the piano first and put my hand on it.
"That sheet music was part of the collection we found here when we moved in," Pru said.
I kept my hand on the piano. Just for a few seconds, I closed my eyes, and a melody played up my arm and into my heart. It brought tears to my eyes to remember Mama playing and Noble and I sitting on the sofa, listening. After another moment I sucked in my breath and sat on the new soft, light brown leather settee, one of a pair facing each other.
"Can I get you something cold to drink?" Brice offered.
"How about some soda, juice?" Pru suggested.
"I'm fine."
They both stood there gaping at me, until Pru realized first what they looked like.
"Oh, sorry," she said, sitting on the settee across from me quickly. She looked up at Brice, and he sat beside her. "It's just that this is so unexpected."
"What brings you here now?" Brice asked. "We know most of what everyone else knows about what went on here, of course, and how long you've been away."
How do I begin? I thought.
And then, as if the words were always there in the house, just waiting like ripe fruit to be plucked, I started to tell my story.
Nearly three-quarters of an hour later, after we all had had some cold drinks, I had brought the events up to date, and they both sat looking stunned and saddened.
"How horrible," Pru said. She turned to Brice. "I can understand why the poor girl came here. It's the only real home she's known. We have to do
something."
"Yes," Brice said, and then pulled himself up firmly. "First," he began, "you'll move in here with us immediately. I'll take care of getting you transferred to my school, so you can finish achieving your high school diploma. I'll contact the agencies involved and arrange for us to take charge. We can ask your attorney, Mr. Deward Lee Nokleby-Cook, to help with that. Pru works for him."
"I know. The taxidriver told me," I said, and they both laughed.
"It is a small town, you know. Anyway, we'll do all those things first."
"But I didn't come here to throw myself on you, or anyone else, for that matter."