“Did you think about me at all, away in the big city?”
“I thought of you every day and wished you were with me.”
“I want to hear all about it, every detail,” I said.
“You’ll hear everything you need to know when the record is done.”
“I will?” I asked.
His mouth lifted into a lazy smile. “You know what I mean. Everything’s there in the music. All the love and longing and beauty in the world, right there, in the notes. These musicians, Fi, they were indescribable. For the only time in my life, I didn’t feel out of place.”
“Why?”
“They’re all outcasts, like me. Men and women of color.”
“Oh.” My heart sank. He’d found new friends, ones perhaps he enjoyed better than me and my family. “Is it lonely for you here?”
“Sometimes. Never with you, of course. But it’s hard to be one of the only people in town who looks like me. It’s only Fai and Grandmother and me. I have a feeling Fai might not come back to us, so then it will be only two.”
Li was a descendant of hopeful Chinese men and women who had come to Emerson Pass before it was a town and merely a destination for the mining of gold. After his parents and grandfather had perished from a terrible illness, he and his sister, Fai, and their grandmother, Mrs. Wu, had come to live with us. Papa had found the three of them living in what remained of the gold mining operation, practically starving as they faced a cold winter. My father had brought them to our house and offered them rooms downstairs in our staff quarters. He’d insisted Fai and Li attend school with the rest of us. I’d been only three years old that year and couldn't remember a time when they did not live with us. They were as much a fabric of my life as my siblings.
Mrs. Wu had helped Lizzie in the kitchen, adding delightful nuances to our very English culinary menu. As children, we thought nothing of the differences in our appearances from the Wu siblings. They were our friends and classmates, and family, just as Jasper and Lizzie were.
“Was it strange to be away, making music with someone besides me?” I watched him carefully. Had he met someone to replace me? What about women? Had there been any? The thought made my stomach hurt.
“It was strange to be away from you, yes.” He smiled at me, fondly, as if I were his little sister, I thought. Not the way Viktor smiled at Cym or Phillip when he looked at Jo.
“Why the sad eyes?” Li asked. “Perhaps you didn’t miss me as much as you thought you would and wish I’d go back?”
“That’s not what I’m thinking and you know it.” I lightly smacked his shoulder. “I was hoping you hadn’t replaced me with anyone, that’s all.”
“Fiona Barnes, you are many things, but replaceable is not one of them.”
My stomach fluttered. “I’m glad. I couldn’t bear it if you found someone else to make music with.”
“I enjoyed my time, but here is my home. In fact, certain aspects of my life became very clear to me while I was away.”
I wanted to ask for clarity, but Mrs. Wu, Li’s grandmother, appeared on the porch. Li’s face lit up at the sight of her. “Let’s go see Grandmother.”
“You’ll tell me more later?” I asked, cringing at the neediness in my voice. Goodness me, I needed to let the poor man breathe. “Or whenever you have a chance.”
“I’ll tell you everything tonight at the club. Between sets.” We were playing at my brother’s underground club later. The regulars, of which there were many, had been asking me for a week if Li would be back soon. As much as they enjoyed my singing, the music suffered without Li. He and I were better together, at least when it came to playing jazz and blues. We were a melodious duo, making music together as if one person. I sang while he played various instruments. Sometimes, I would play piano and sing while he accompanied me on the violin. Other times, he would play the violin in the tradition of the fiddle in harmony with my piano and my voice, which could change direction with only a mere nod from my musical partner.
Then, later, when we were older, we began to compose music together. We spent hours together, plucking away at notes until we had a song. Li took it all for granted, the way we could create something beautiful from nothing. He seemed to understand his talent better than I. Or perhaps he accepted it as part of who he was, whereas I thought of it as whispers from the divine. God was good to me. He spoke the notes to me, gave me a voice that people compared to angels, as if they’d ever heard one sing. Once, when I told my sister Cymbeline how grateful I was to God for my voice and musical ability, she’d said, “We’re the ones who should thank God, dear sister. For we’re the ones who get to listen and dance to the music you make for us.”
Cymbeline loved to dance. And ski and run and make trouble for herself. I loved her madly.
I had to tell Li of my feelings. I’d waited for a long time, knowing that he was a man of integrity and conscience. He would not love me until I was old enough. I’d decided I would tell him about my feelings on my twentieth birthday.
I’d told my siblings already. They’d been appalled and worried, made me promise not to tell anyone else. Not even Li himself.
“There’s nothing good that can come of it,” Jo had said. “You must forget all of this.”
Theo had nodded, his brow creased with worry. “She’s right, Fi. This is just a crush anyway. Once you’re older and meet the right man, you’ll see this was just a childhood fantasy.”
Flynn and Cymbeline had exchanged a look between them. One that said they knew my conservative siblings were incorrect. Growing up, I’d often thought of the four of them divided into two sets: one good, one terrifically wicked. They were like a good and bad angel on my shoulder. I responded better to the naughty devils. As much as I loved Jo and Theo, it was Flynn and especially Cym who helped me make sense of things. They understood my wild heart, my endless capacity for love.
After getting his suitcase from the back, Li took my arm as we walked up the icy steps to his front porch. Mrs. Wu held out her arms to hug her grandson, then stepped back to get a good look at him. “I’m glad to see you.”
“I’m glad to see you,” Li said. She smiled, sending the lines of her face into a hundred winding roads, before beckoning us inside the house.
The warm air felt like a sudden blast of hot wind. A fire crackled in the hearth and cinnamon scented the air.
Mrs. Wu squeezed my hand and then took my coat to hang in the closet. “You’ll stay for tea, won’t you?”
“If it’s not too much trouble,” I said. “I’ll help if you need it.”
“Nonsense. I’m old but not dead.” Mrs. Wu nodded toward the kitchen. “I have the tea already made, and Jasper brought by a box of Lizzie’s scones and cakes. She’s afraid I’ll starve out here all alone.”
“Have you been all right?” I asked. “We miss you at the house.”