A Soft Piano Melody on a Rainy Day by Isabel Ingersoll
I hear it, this soft piano melody on a rainy day.
I knew it was him immediately. I waltzed right into that room, not caring that he might want to be alone, I felt called to be near him, to listen to the beautiful music that his hands played.
His hardened, large hands fly across the keys in a grace that I didn't believe a man so usually stiff could have. A soft smile spreads across his face as he plays. He looks positively at ease and at home in that seat behind the piano.
As he plays, my hips begin to sway with the rhythm and I glide around the room, closing my eyes and letting the music consume me. I had never heard anyone play like him. It was ethereal. He didn't feel real.
That smile that appeared on his face when he looked up from the keys to see me dancing was something I will never forget. This usually rigid man with walls built up so high that I could have never imagined to see over the top, so quickly let his wall tumble down and break before me. I was perplexed.
I stopped my dancing and stared back at him in awe. His smile was beautiful. I wanted to see that smile everyday for the rest of my life.
“What?” He asked and stopped playing. His smile slowly slid away as he became insecure as I watched him. He would always avoid my eye contact.
“I've never seen you smile before.” I remarked. Not sure what else I could say to him. I couldn't very well tell him what was really on my mind.
“Well… you make me happy.” He whispered almost so softly that I couldn't hear him. I looked up at him to see his cheeks reddening and his eyes turning away from my direct gaze. He moved his face back toward the keys and I tried unsuccessfully to contain the large grin my face automatically went into. I loved making him blush.
I stood there with that goofy smile on my face, wondering how far I could push him today. This was already the most emotion I had ever gotten out of him.
Deciding to push my luck I slowly made my way over to where he was still sitting at the piano, eyes shyly looking down at the keys.
With one last deep breath I sat down at the edge of the bench. Then slid a little closer and closer and closer once more until our shoulders were almost touching. I could see his whole body stiffen from the side of my eye.
“Could you teach me to play?” I asked him lightly. For once scared that I might have gone too far. I felt like I had to be cautious around him, like one hasty movement might scare him away. I didn't want to scare him away. I wanted to be around him, always.
He didn't say anything at first. I was scared to even look over at what his face might reveal.
But when I looked over at him I saw that his eyes were looking not even at me, but into me, it felt like he could see my every emotion and longing. I felt like he could read my every want when he looked into my eyes with those soft, honey colored, sweet eyes that everyone always saw as hard and unbreakable. I didn't see him that way. He was… different around me.
“What do you see in me?”
“What?” I couldn't believe he even asked me that. It was probably the most flat out, honest he has ever been.
“I don’t know. I just see you. How could I not see all that you are? I see a man deserving of patience and compassion. I see a man with so much talent that deserves to be shared with the rest of the world. I see a man with kind eyes and a soft heart but a hard exterior that he puts up to try and protect himself. I see a man with so many walls put up around his heart that he doesn't believe he deserves any of the love the world has to give him. But you do deserve it. You deserve all the wonderful things that the world has to give. You deserve all the things that you want for yourself that you may have thought you would never get. So you asked me what I see in you and all I see is you. I see you for all that you are.”
I couldn't believe it. I just went on this tangent to this man whom I love but I couldn't possibly tell him that, but I feel as if my words have already exposed my true feelings. I felt a panic rising inside of me. I felt like running out of the room. I never wanted to see him again, but also I never wanted to be away from him. I couldn't possibly handle these conflicting feelings that this love had bestowed upon me.
I couldn't look him in the eyes. I couldn't look at him at all.
Then I suddenly felt his calloused hand push back a rogue hair and place it gently behind my ear. I looked up at him in shock. He was looking at me with so much emotion and love in his eyes, I couldn't believe my luck.
“You're too good for me.” He said.
“Nonsense.” I replied.
He chuckled at that and his laugh made me feel like nothing bad could ever happen. I wanted to be the reason he laughed, the reason he smiled. I wanted to see this kind side of him and be there beside him to see what made him smile and what made him laugh as well as what made him angry or sad to keep those away from him. This man had enough sadness in his past. He deserved to smile for the rest of his days. And I selfishly wanted to be one of those reasons that he smiled.
He reached out hesitantly and grabbed my hand and placed it ever so delicately on the keys of the piano. When our hands touched I felt like screaming inside. Never did I think that this man would be grabbing my hand, I had hoped and dreamed but never did I think it would be really happening.
“I'll teach you to play it.” He said lightheartedly, with so much of the past nervousness and tension left from his body. He seemed almost carefree in a way I was not used to seeing him.
I smiled at him, not able to contain the joy that I felt just being in his presence.
He placed his hand over mine and taught me the first few keys. Then a few more and a few more. Then before I knew it I had done the whole song, not very well I'll admit, and definitely not as beautiful as he did, but I still did it. He told me I was a natural. I smiled at that.
When it had gotten late and I had to leave him I didn't want to go. More than anything I wanted to stay by his side and feel his hand on top of mine, patiently teaching me more and more songs.
He glanced over at the clock and he and I both knew I had to leave. He grasped my hand from the bench and gently pressed his lips against the back of my hand, his lips barely touching my skin but still a shiver went through my whole body. I felt goosebumps scatter across my skin and my cheeks began to pinken.
“Until we meet again?” He said it almost like a question. As if this one perfect night was all that we were allowed to have. I wouldn't allow him to think that way.
“Until we meet again.” I said it matter of factly. Looking him dead in the eyes. Trying to communicate through my eyes that I wasn't going anywhere.
It seemed like he got the message cause he grinned down at me and got up from the bench to offer me his hand. I grabbed it tenderly and felt my body drift closer to his as we walked down the stairs and to the front door.
I couldn't believe how closer it felt that we'd become in just this one afternoon. Both physically and emotionally I felt so much closer to him, it felt like he finally understood at least a little bit of how deep my feelings for him were. And I could tell that he cared deeply for me. His eyes gave his whole heart away.
He opened the door and we looked at eachother, smiling one last time. We said nothing. There was nothing left for us to say. I felt like we had said it all and what we hadn't said we had so much time to. Reluctantly my hand slipped from his and I left down the front steps, glancing back to see that he watched me walk all the way until he couldn't see me anymore.
I was not capable of controlling the smile that took over my whole being. I felt like skipping home, the joy was so abundant it was about to burst out of me. That was the best day of my life…
Now I sit here, and I play that same melody, and the rain hits the window panes like it did all those years ago. But he's no longer here. He no longer sits next to me as I closely watch him play. Our shoulders don't shyly brush up against each other as they once did. No longer will I see that smile that made me giddy as a young girl all throughout our marriage.
I close my eyes and try to imagine that his hand is still resting on top of mine as he guides my fingers to each key. But the ghost of his hand is all that is there and I am alone on this bench playing a sad piano melody on a rainy day.
Isabel Ingersoll is an undergraduate student at Emerson College currently studying writing, literature, and publishing with a minor in psychology. She writes both fiction and poetry and you can see psychological themes throughout all of her work. She has published fiction most recently in the Icarus Writing Collective and poetry with Anti-Heroin Chic.
