Songs without Words (28 page)

“Do you really want to have to deal with this for the next four weeks, Harper?” he asked. “You don’t know what kids are like.”

“We can give it a try. If it gets bad, I’ll send her home. I have that luxury.”

“I hate to reward her for running away,” he said, but in the end, he gave in. Sarah was ecstatic. They sat down with a map of California and a guidebook and began planning where they might go together. Before long, though, Harper’s attention drifted back to the question of Chelsea and where she was.

As if reading Harper’s mind, Sarah suddenly said, “Oh, but what about Chelsea? Will she be coming with us? I can’t wait to meet her.”

That’s right
, thought Harper, startled.
Sarah thinks Chelsea and I are still together
. Mary had not explained anything to her, preferring to avoid the subject altogether.

“Unfortunately,” she said, “Chelsea and I broke up two years ago.”

“Oh,wow,”she responded.“No wonder Mary was so surprised when I showed up.”

Harper nodded. “No damage done.”

“Oh, that’s so sad.”

Harper could tell by Sarah’s expression that she had given Harper and Chelsea a happy ending in her imagination.
People do so want a happy ending
, Harper thought, recalling something Chelsea had once said.

“So, is Mary Chelsea’s aunt or something?” Sarah asked.

“No,” Harper said. “Not a relative. They were, uh—”

Sarah’s eyes widened. “Oh,” she said, understanding. “Oh, shit, that’s even worse. Oh, God, Aunt Harper, I’m sorry. I’m such a moron.”

“Chelsea has apparently broken up with Mary now too,” Harper said.

Sarah perked up. “Really? So she’s available? You can hook up again.”

“I don’t know. I don’t really know what her situation is now.”

“Why don’t you call her?”

“I have, actually, a couple of times. No response.”

“Do you still love her?”Sarah asked, her tone almost comically sympathetic.

Harper nodded.

“Well, then, you must go to her!” Sarah said dramatically, her eyes flashing.

Sarah was suddenly no longer concerned about sightseeing, it seemed. She wanted to do something far more interesting— reunite two lovers.

Harper wished she knew if Chelsea still wanted to see her. Even if she did, Mary’s threat loomed. Her certainty of her hold on Chelsea was chilling.

“I think she must have an apartment here in town,” Harper said, “but I don’t have her address.”

“Well, she isn’t there anyway,” Sarah said nonchalantly.

“What?” Harper asked. “Why do you say that?”

“When I asked Mary if Chelsea was home, she said she was gone away on vacation. I thought she meant that she had gone away with you.”

“So that’s why you were waiting for me there? Why you thought I had come back with Chelsea?”

“Right. Anyway, I asked Mary where. Mendocino, she said.”

“Mendocino,” Harper repeated. “Her brother has a vacation home there.”

“I told Mary I was your niece and that I was looking for you because you weren’t home. She was confused. She asked me why I was asking where Chelsea was if I was looking for you. I began to think that maybe it was a secret, you know, you and Chelsea, and that I was outing you guys or something. I mean, I’m still thinking that Mary is her aunt or her landlady or even her mother. So I got freaked out. I don’t even know what I said after that, something about you and Chelsea being traveling companions or something.”

“Traveling companions!” Harper said, laughing.

“I know, it was so lame! She started asking me all these questions about you and Chelsea, and I told her I didn’t know anything, that I’d just arrived from Cape Cod. So then she said I could wait for you at her place. And you know the rest.” Sarah looked sheepish. “Anyway, now that you know where Chelsea is, you can go to her.” Harper sighed. “I don’t know,” she said. Sarah’s view was so optimistically simple. “Look, I’m going to run to the store. Give me a list of things you like, what you normally eat and drink, you know.”

Sarah stayed home downloading some of Harper’s music onto her iPod while Harper shopped. Apparently, Mary had introduced her to classical music and now she was totally into it. Her brief stay with Mary, however strangely it had come about, had actually done her quite a bit of good, mused Harper, adding three cans of water-packed tuna to the carton of yogurt and jars of organic green tea already in her cart. Consulting the list, she saw that Sarah had written “caviar” on it. She smiled.
No way, kid
.

She pondered what she should do, if anything, with the information that Chelsea was in Mendocino. She couldn’t believe Chelsea had gone by herself to that romantic town. The fact that she hadn’t called was probably evidence of that.

Harper’s heart was heavy as she drove back home. She wished, more than ever, that she had returned Chelsea’s call immediately. Two weeks was time enough for anything to happen—enough even to fall in love with someone else on a wind-swept ocean bluff overlooking a rugged coastline.

Oh, God, Chelsea
, she thought, clutching the steering wheel in despair.
Please don’t be lying in another woman’s arms because I waited to return your call
.

Chapter 23

JUNE 28

Sarah had taken charge of the mouse at Harper’s computer. They were working together on the background music for the Carmen Silva film. Sarah already knew a bit about editing music files, although the style of music that populated her iPod was entirely different from the sonatas, rondos and concertos they were now trying to fit to the weaving scenes.

Harper had played the documentaries of Mary Tillotson and Catherine Gardiner for Sarah the previous day. She’d been impressed by them and had gained a new appreciation, it seemed, for both Mary’s and Harper’s talents. Having seen the videos, she finally realized too what a remarkable event she had been a part of when Mary and Catherine had let her tag along for their lunch date. She wanted to be a part of this new film, and Harper was glad to indulge her. It was turning out to be a fun day, even if they weren’t making much actual progress.

“I love that!” Sarah exclaimed, hearing
Moonlight Sonata
for the first time. “Can we use it?”

“Maybe,” Harper said.

“Who wrote it?”

“Beethoven.”

“All I ever knew about Beethoven was da-da-da-dum.”

Harper smiled, recognizing the first notes of the
Fifth Symphony
. “Some of his shorter pieces are...”

“Sublime?” Sarah asked, grinning at her own word choice.

“Yes, exactly.”

“Didn’t you use one of those in the other film, the one about Mary?”

“Yes. I put a bit of
Appassionata
in there. This one is
Piano Sonata no. 14
. It’s known as the
Moonlight Sonata
. Very recognizable. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing for the film. The music is there to create a mood, not detract from the subject.”

Sarah looked thoughtfully at Harper, then rewound the video and started it again. They watched the monitor as Carmen Silva worked her loom. Sarah started playing the music as they watched. “It has the right sound, don’t you think?”

“You’re right. It lends a hallowed atmosphere to the weaving process. It’s almost as if Carmen were playing the music. Her hands move like those of a harpist or pianist. But she’s moving faster than the tempo of the music. Can you hear that, how the music is so much slower than her movements?”

Sarah listened again, a serious expression on her face. “I think I get it,” she said.

“We might be able to use it in another spot, though. How about this?”

Harper fast-forwarded to a section of film taken in front of the home where all of the blankets were lined up on racks. A series of stills focused on each blanket in turn, showing its colors and patterns for a few moments and then moving to the next one. Harper started the film and the Beethoven sonata simultaneously.

Sarah cocked her head slightly, listening, and Harper thought of Chelsea, remembering that day six years ago when she had played that gorgeous piano at Mary’s house. Chelsea’s eyes had flashed with delight at the title of the song—
Appassionata
—just as Sarah’s were flashing now as she listened to a brilliant piece of music that fit into the scene like a dovetail joint.

This is what Mary gets from teaching,
Harper thought,
the sheer delight that becomes so elusive as you get older, except second hand through the eyes, mind and heart of a young person who is receptive and unselfconscious.

“Aunt Harper, that’s so beautiful it almost makes me want to cry.”

Harper smiled, more than happy with that response.

“Are you going to use it?” Sarah asked.

“Sure. It’s perfect.”

Sarah played the piece over three times, satisfied with her contribution. “Will we be able to watch this on TV?” she asked.

“No, I’m afraid not. It will air here on a local channel. That’s it. At least for the foreseeable future. But I’ll send you a copy of the final product. You can show your family.”

“If it’s not on TV, they won’t care,” Sarah said, dejected. “They won’t get it.”

“Well, maybe they won’t. That’s how it goes with families. They love you, but they don’t always appreciate the same things you do, nor will they necessarily be able to share the things that matter to you. Do you realize, not a single member of my family has ever seen me perform with the symphony?”

Sarah grew thoughtful. “I never thought of that,” she said. “It’s important to you, isn’t it, being in the symphony?”

“Of course, but the reason they don’t attend is distance, not lack of interest. The couple of times Mom and Dad have been out to visit, the timing wasn’t right. I’d like to share that with them, you know.”

“I’d like to come.”

“Thank you. Unfortunately, you will be long gone when the season starts in the fall.”

Sarah frowned, reminded of her impending return to the Cape. “Live classical music is a really different experience from recorded,” Harper said. “And on these speakers, well, if this makes you want to cry, you’d bawl your head off if you heard it performed live.”

“Can you play it?” Sarah asked. “
Moonlight Sonata
?”

“Sure, I’ve played it dozens of times.”

Harper, getting the point, led the way to the living room and the piano. She played the piece while Sarah sat on the sofa listening. When it was finished, Harper turned around on the bench to face her. “What do you think?”

“Awesome!” Sarah said. “So, that file we were listening to on the computer, was that you playing?”

Harper shook her head, amused. “No. That’s a professional recording.”

“Oh. But you’ll play this for the final cut, right? The background music on the film, it will be you playing?”

Harper hesitated, taken by surprise at this assumption. “It never occurred to me,” she said finally.