How Do I Love Thee (10 page)

“Don't wear out the keys,” her mother said, passing through the living room.

“I want to be sharp for state competition,” Dana said.

“But that's not until spring.”

“And it's my best chance to get noticed by the Juilliard people.”

“It's still a long way off.”

Dana turned on the piano bench. “Most mothers are begging their kids to practice. I didn't mean to annoy you.”

“Whoa. I never said you were annoying me. I was just wondering why you were driving yourself today. Did you and Bobby have a fight?”

Her mother knew Dana's habit of playing when she was upset or needed space to work out a problem, so Dana wasn't surprised by the question, only annoyed- “Bobby and I are fine. His brother's home from college having some medical tests run, and his family's concerned.”

“What's wrong with him? “

“He's been having really bad headaches.”

“That's too bad, but I don't see how it concerns you.”

Dana hit discordant keys on the piano, pushed back the bench, and stood. “I'm Bobby's girlfriend, Mom, and he's worried about his older brother. Why wouldn't it affect me? I think the world of Bobby.”

Her mother looted startled. “Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. Just keep playing. Pretend I never interrupted.”

Dana shook her head. “I'm finished.” She headed up the stairs to her bedroom. She felt anxious and tense. Since her conversation with Steve, her mind had been in turmoil, her in-sides in a knot. She still adored him; the old feelings hadn't changed. Except that now she was Bobby's girl, and no amount of piano
playing was going to chase away her predicament.

Bobby asked Dana to a family cookout on Sunday. “Steve's cheeking into the hospital at six, so this is the big feast before he begins a diet of hospital food.”

“I—um, have to study.”

“The cookout won't last long.”

“I can't.”

Bobby lifted her chin and stared into her eyes. “Hey, what's wrong? You haven't been yourself the past couple of days.”

“Nothing's wrong. I've just got a big test this week I need to study for.”

Bobby looked hurt. “You're not getting tired of us, are you?”

“Why would you ask me that? Why are you so insecure? I have a test. Can't I be thinking about something else besides
us
all the time?”

“Low blow,” he said, throwing up his hands like a shield. “I guess because I think about you all the time, I want you to think about me all the time toa But you've got a point. It's not fair and I'm a jerk and f m sorry. Forgive me?”

He looked so appealingly pathetic that she
had to smile. “I didn't mean to sound angry,” Dana said. “Terry would kill to have her boyfriend think of her instead of soccer season, so I'm not complaining.”

“And I didn't mean to come across like some kind of desperate dope. This thing with Steve's got me down. His headaches are scary, Dana. I heard him moaning through my bedroom wall last night because his head hurt so much.”

She shuddered. What she really wanted was to be with Steve. But she'd forfeited that privilege. “Why don't you come over after Steve checks in? We'll sit on the porch swing and talk.”

“Will you hold my hand?” Bobby looked winsomely optimistic.

“Maybe.” Her irritation melted. She just couldn't stay mad at him.

“Will you let me kiss you?”

“Don't push your luck.”

He dipped his head, kissed her quickly on the mouth, then bounded off the porch. “Too late,” he called. “The kissing
bandito
strikes again.” He got into his car. “See you tomorrow.”

She watched him drive off, her thoughts returning to Steve. She wasn't sure how she was going to get through the next few days, but she would. And she would do everything in her power not to hurt Bobby, unwittingly caught between two people who loved him and who, because of him, could never be together again.

“
should be at the hospital with Mom and Dad.” Bobby caught Dana in the hall between classes Monday morning.

“Why aren't you?”

“Dad made me come to school. Said I'd just be in the way. Like lean concentrate on classes when my brother's going through all that.”

Hank Harrod's insensitlvity toward Bobby irked Dana, but she didn't want to worsen Bobby's already glum mood, so she kept her thoughts about him to herself. “How long will Steve be in the hospital? You can visit him after school, you know.”

“I know, but I'd wanted to spend the day with him. What's so hard about my dad understanding that?” Just as the tardy bell sounded, he said, “Come with me today.”

“To the hospital?” Dana froze.

He gave her a puzzled look. “Well, yeah, to the hospital.”

“I don't think—”

“I'll pick you up at the south entrance at three. I'm out of here!”

With a sinking feeling, Dana watched him sprint down the hall. He hadn't even heard her begging off. She realized that she'd have to go with him, and she both wanted it and dreaded it. She reminded herself that in a few
days
, Steve would be back at FSU, and she wouldn't have to think about seeing him again until the holidays. Maybe by then she could get him out of her system once and for all.

“Hey, bro.” Bobby sauntered into Steve's room that afternoon, Dana by his side.

Steve's face lit up. “Hey yourself.” He was sitting up on the side of his bed, flipping through TV channels with the remote. He wore jeans, the usual hospital gown that tied behind his neck, and a blue plastic bracelet that
identified him as a patient. He looked tanned, fit, and healthy, “Pull up some chairs.”

“Where're the folks?”

“Cruising the cafeteria.”

“You remember Dana, don't you?”

Steve swept her with his clear blue eyes. “How could I forget her?”

Bobby slid two chairs alongside the bed and sat in one. Dana nervously took the other. “Do you know anything yet?” Bobby asked.

“The neurosurgeon Mom wants on my case had an emergency today but he's supposed to stop by in the morning with some sort of information about my tests. After that, I'm coming home.”

“Sorry I couldn't hang here today. Dad made me go to school.”

“It would have been totally boring,” Steve said. “Nothing but blood work and an MRI and a whole lot of waiting in between. I'll bet they took a hundred shots of my brain.”

“You have one?” Bobby deadpanned.

“Not the size of yours.” Steve grinned, then turned his attention to Dana. “What did Bobby promise to make you come see me? Dinner at McDonald's?”

She cleared her throat. “I wanted to come, I wanted to see how you're doing … wish you luck.”

“Very nice of you.”

She heard a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“You ever get those SAT scores back?” Steve returned his attention to his brother. “I know you have a lot riding on them.”

“Not yet. Probably in a few months.”

“You'll do well on the test. Better than I did, for sure.”

“Not that it'll be noticed like if I played football.”

Steve groaned. “Give it up. Brains always wins over brawn. Don't you think so, Dana?”

She started, not having expected Steve to talk to her, much less put her on the spot. “Talent is talent,” she said after a pause. “The area doesn't matter, only drive and determination.”

Bobby winked at her.

Steve said, “You know, there's a piano in die rec room downstairs, I'd like to hear you play, Dana.”

She felt her face redden. Why didn't Steve back off and stop baiting her? She stood. “Sure. I can do that.”

Bobby sprang up beside her. “You're really going to be impressed, Stevie.”

“I'll leave a note for Mom and Dad.” Steve scribbled a message on a piece of paper and propped it on his pillow.

The three of them went down the hall, took the elevator, and found their way to a spacious recreation room. Dana was seething, but she stared straight ahead, refusing to meet Steve's eyes even while Bobby told him about her goal of attending the Juilliard School after she graduated.
He already knows
, she thought, wishing Bobby would drop her as a topic of conversation.

In the rec room, several patients were reading. Two others were playing a game of cards.

“Would any of you object to some piano music?” Steve asked boldly.

They all nodded consent and Dana sat at the piano, determined to focus on the music and not her anger. She ran the scales and was surprised to hear that the instrument was tuned. “Any requests?” she asked, looking Steve in the face for the first time that evening.

“How about the
Moonlight
Sonata?”

She stiffened. That was the piece she was
playing when he'd first met her at Hilton Head. “Beethoven called it
Sonata quasi una fantasia,”
Dana said “He wrote it in 1801 when he first learned he might be going deaf. Is that the piece you mean?”

“She knows everything,” Bobby whispered to Steve, obviously pleased by Dana's quick response and thorough knowledge of classical music.

“That's die piece,” Steve said.

“You shock me, Steve. I thought you only listened to heavy metal and rock,” Bobby kidded.

“I developed a taste for classical a few summers ago. I just never told you.”

Dana struck die keys, pulling the melody out of her mind and fingers and pouring it into the old piano. Instantly the music filled the room, swept the air with its haunting notes. Soon she forgot everything except the magic of Beethoven's wonderful melody. She played it start to finish, and when die final notes faded into silence, she heard the sound of applause behind her. She turned and was shocked to see that a small crowd had gathered.

“Heavenly,” a nurse said. “I was just walking down the hall, and I had to come inside and see who could make this old thing produce such music.”

An elderly man wiped his cheeks.

“What a gift you have,” said another man.

“Thank you,” Steve said softly, simply. “It was beautiful.”

Dana felt self-conscious.

“Her name's Dana Tafoya,” Bobby announced to the listeners. “And someday she'll play at Carnegie Hall. Just wait and see.”

“I'll buy a ticket,” Steve said.

Dana lost sight of him as people gathered around her, enthusiastically congratulating her on the impromptu performance. A man in a business suit thrust a business card into her hand. “I'm the volunteer coordinator here. Have you ever considered being a volunteer? If you'd come in even once a month and play for our shut-ins, it would make a world of difference for them.”

“I—I—”

“Will you please consider it? Call me anytime and I'll set it up. I know it's not Carnegie
Hall,” he said with a laugh, “but you could do our patients a whole lot of good with your musical talent.”

Bobby slipped his arm around Dana's waist. “I'm her manager.” He grinned, “And we'll get back to you.”

The group laughed. Dana smiled toa It felt good to have her work enjoyed. Isn't that what she'd always wanted? To play concerts and have people appreciate beautiful classical music? “I'll see what I can work out,” she said.

When the people had drifted away, Bobby hugged her. Over his shoulder, she saw Steve staring at them. She closed her eyes, wishing that the brothers could trade places, knowing it would never happen. She was Bobby's girl now.