Korean translations at the end of the chapter.
Saturday was Piano Day. The porch doors had been unscrewed from their hinges and were still lying flat on the sand after a morning spent with my heart in my throat, shepherding a team of piano movers carrying the polythene-covered piano diagonally into the sunroom, narrowly missing the doorframe. The sunroom sofa had been pushed into the living room, the two sofas sitting parallel in front of the TV like a mini movie theater.
I'd hovered around the piano all morning as the movers worked, checking for scratches and chips and marks to the maple veneer, but all looked as smooth and polished as it had done the first time Will and I had set eyes on it in the decaying grandeur of Millicent Lyons's house.
"Your place is nice." The piano technician glanced around the sunroom as he cut long strips of sandpaper out of a booklet. "Great loca-". He spied Mozhgan's little blue urn, and promptly turned his eyes resolutely back to his sandpaper.
"Oh...er...she died four weeks ago. We're gonna scatter the ashes in the State Park. Soon. When my friend gets better. He's ill in bed..." I trailed off before I sounded even more like a serial killer who'd just commandeered a house and a grand piano. "How's the piano looking?"
"Well, the soundboard and pinblock are fine. Hammers just need a little filing. She's been looked after. But if she hasn't been tuned to concert pitch for thirty years or so, then I might get her a semi-tone away from A to be on the safe side, and then bring her up to pitch in a few days. She'll drift pretty fast after the first tune anyways." I wasn't sure about referring to pianos as she. Sounded creepy. "Where did you get her from?"
"It's a family heirloom. Kinda."
"Lucky. Never seen a Bösendorfer like this girl."
The technician worked all morning, filing down the hammers and then mating them to the strings, before a lengthy voicing and tuning session. The morning was hot and breezy, and warm gusts lifted staff paper from the desk as he worked.
After two hours he finally invited me to test the pitch, and I sat on the dark green piano stool, my fingers tingling in anticipation after so many days away from the piano's glory.
I took a deep breath and played octaves across the whole keyboard: chords, thirds, sixths, tritones. The strings rang clear at each octave. I played a major tenth; the overtones sparkled. Will's piano was perfection.
Fawning over it like a lovesick fool, I'd left Will with no choice but to accept the piano from Charlotte. But I promised myself that I'd make every moment on the piano worth it for Will; I'd create fresh bright memories for him, washing away forever the ghost of the Senator's broken promise of a secret piano that never came.
Noon arrived and Sabrina and Emilia shot straight through the house and onto the beach, a quick "Hey, Uncle Zeph!" as they flew past, completely ignoring the grand piano. Charlotte and Guillermo followed them laden with a fruit basket and pasta.
"Sabrina and Emilia made this for Will," Charlotte grimaced as she handed over a plastic box. "It's spaghetti with olives. And carrots. And peas. It's not...up to Will's standard."
"Are you kidding? A meal cooked by his nieces? He's gonna love it."
"Is he awake?" Guillermo eyed the airline-style sofa arrangement with a bemused look on his face.
Aside from a few bandage changes, Will had been asleep for over twenty-four hours.
"We had to move the sofa to get the piano in. Will's sleeping a lot. I think his painkiller dose is too high. He hasn't eaten."
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The Sigma Asset 🏳️🌈 (bxb)║AMBYS WINNER 2022
Mystery / Thriller**AMBYS 2022 WINNER** He'll never play piano again. That's what virtuoso pianist Zephyr has vowed to himself after escaping Sigma, the sprawling criminal organisation that once held him--and still holds his friends--captive in California's mega-city...
