Another Story

“Daddy? … Daddy!” Michaela exclaimed, trying to catch her father’s attention from across the breakfast table.

“What, love?” Theodore responded mechanically without looking up from his laptop.

“Will you take me to the park today?” she asked, grinning hopefully. She’d lost a front tooth just days before, but that didn’t stop her from grinning with all the might a 6 year old can muster!

“Cant,” Theodore said curtly, as he entered more numbers into his spreadsheet.

“Sweetie, you know your father has work,” Michaela’s mother said, gently brushing the hair from her daughter’s face.

“But it’s Saturday and he is always working!” Michaela protested.

Theodore hit the enter key and watched as all of the numbers on the screen updated.

“There it is,” he thought, with a pleased expression.

Satisfaction washed over him as he confirmed each field. The numbers were perfect. He was confident this would close the deal.

“Let’s tame this mane!” Michaela’s mother growled playfully, holding a hair tie. Michaela squirmed and giggled, splashing milk and cereal on the table as her mother began to gather up wayward hair from every direction.

Despite all the commotion, Theodore wasn’t bothered. He’d learned how to tune out distractions. No doubt this was part of the reason he’d moved up to senior partner at his large development firm so quickly.

His phone buzzed with a text from his driver.

“Right on time,” Theodore thought.

A few hours in the office would help him get a jump on next week’s meetings. Preparation is key.

The drive into the city was beautiful. They lived in a quiet, affluent neighborhood near a lake and a sprawling golf course. Theodore was a member of the club, of course, but he rarely used the facilities.

As they passed by the lake, the driver slowed to a stop, waiting for a trail of ducks to meander across the road.

Before Theodore could complain, his phone rang.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Hi. May I speak with Teddy?” a polite voice inquired.

“This is Theodore,” he barked, his brow furrowed in visible annoyance, “What can I do for you?”

“I’m so sorry, sir. There’s no easy way to say this,” the voice continued calmly.

“Your grandmother has passed away. I’m the executor of her estate.”

Theodore was stunned. His grandmother had helped raise him. His father was never in the picture, and his mother loved him dearly, but she had worked two jobs most of his childhood in order to support them. If it wasn’t for his grandmother—or Mama Mae, as she had everyone call her—he would have been on his own most of the time.

“She has some rather specific instructions that she asked me to carry out as soon as possible. Are you able to come in today?”

Theodore paused for a moment to collect himself.

“Send me the address,” he said.

The lawyer’s office was small—certainly much smaller than those in the city. In lieu of a skyline view from the 75th floor, it bragged one small window with an untrimmed tree branch blocking any view there may have been. The branch was so close, in fact, it scraped the glass when the wind blew, making a high pitched screeching noise.

Despite this, the office reminded Theodore of his Mama Mae’s house. The decor was old, but it was well kept. She never had much, but she always told him, “A beautiful home isn’t the stuff in the house; it’s the love inside it.”

As Theodore sat down in the brown-leather backed chair, the lawyer pulled an envelope out of his desk drawer.

“I’m so sorry about Mama Mae. She was so proud of you.”

“You knew her?” Theodore asked.

“It’s a small town,” the lawyer laughed, adjusting his gold rimmed glasses, “She was always pulling me into new volunteer programs. She loved children.”

Theodore’s eyes began to feel misty. He cleared his throat, quickly regaining his composure.

“Is that for me?” he asked, gesturing toward the envelope.

“It is,” the lawyer responded, pulling out a letter and a small black object. “She asked me to give you this letter.”

Theodore began to read.

My dear child,

I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you. I know you’re doing great big things! I’m very proud.

I wish we had more time to see each other, and I sure miss that beautiful daughter of yours.

I know you’re busy, and I don’t have much, but I want to leave you something precious as you are to me. My favorite memories are our piano lessons together after school. Child, you got so good, I was sure you’d be playing concert halls before you were grown!

I have two precious things for you. The first is precious to me—I’m leaving you our piano. The second is precious to you. If you’ll indulge an old lady, I need you to do one thing first.

Theodore’s eyes drifted from the page as he thought about the work he’d planned to do. He had already lost half the day with the long drive. He loved Mama Mae, but there was so much to do. Sighing, he kept reading.

Don’t argue with me, child! You know Mama Mae takes no backtalk. Tom will give you what you need. I love you, and you tell that family of yours that Mama Mae loves them too.

Theodore let the page fall to rest in his lap and looked at Tom, who smiled reassuringly. His face almost shone with that familiar light that Mama Mae had. It was clear that this man was not just an associate—he was a friend.

Theodore was not surprised. Mama Mae somehow even made friends of enemies. Even ornery Old Man Johnson from across the street warmed up to her. It took her three years, but after that, he came over every week for tea. He eventually even ended up telling stories to the kids who’d show up on her porch for lemonade.

“That woman was a miracle worker,” he thought, chuckling to himself.

“The next step is in here!” Tom beamed, handing the small object to Theodore.

Theodore took it, his eyes narrowing. It was a little black notebook.

“Go to her house, sit at the piano, and open the book.”

Theodore thanked Tom, who surprised him by getting up from behind his desk and bringing him in for a quick hug.

“She touched a lot of lives,” Tom said, his voice cracking slightly. “She will be remembered.”

As Theodore stepped into the living room of the old home, a rush of emotions filled his soul. The plain floral wallpaper and shelves meticulously decorated with knick-knacks remained unchanged from when he was a boy. He remembered the sound of the neighborhood children laughing as they played on the floor. Mama Mae was the neighborhood sentinel, always watching over children who needed a safe harbour.

Although the home looked the same, the place suddenly seemed so empty and small. It was as if the perpetual sound of laughter and music somehow transformed a small home into a vast, magical kingdom where possibility knew only the bounds of imagination. Somehow, there was always room for one more.

Yet now, what remained of the kingdom was just a small room, empty and devoid of sound.

Theodore sat down at the bench before the old, black upright piano. The fallboard creaked as he opened it, as if letting out a groan. The body was scratched and keys were worn from years of playing. Some of the tiles were missing, exposing unfinished wood where an ivory surface once was.

Gathering his thoughts, Theodore opened the small black notebook, greeted by Mama Mae’s beautiful cursive handwriting.

Thank you for taking what’s precious to me. I also wanted to give you what’s precious to you, so I’ve been working on that for some years now.

I only want one last thing from you. Please play our favourite song just one more time.

Theodore choked back his emotion as he read his grandmother’s words. He turned the page in the little black notebook to see if there was anything else written. To his surprise, he found that page after page was filled with song names and a little check mark next to each. He recognized the songs, immediately. These were the songs Mama Mae taught him during lessons.

He flipped through the book, which was filled with hymns, classical pieces, and even the occasional boogie woogie—Mama Mae always said God wouldn’t give us a shaker if we weren’t supposed to shake it every now and again.

Each page brought on so many memories of the great lessons and times spent with this precious woman. She didn’t just teach him songs; she taught about life, family, and love. By now, his hands were trembling. The numbers that normally danced in his head were nowhere to be found. For perhaps the first time in years, Theodore was present.

Nearing the end of the book he came to a song that he couldn’t remember. He turned to the next page and the next. He didn’t know these songs. He looked closely and noticed that there was no checkmark next to the names.

In that moment, Theodore realized that the little black notebook wasn’t new. This was her lesson plan for him. When he went away for college, they never got to finish it.

Setting the book on the old piano’s music rack, he began to play Mama Mae’s favorite hymn.

As he played, the music notes swept him away. He finally lost his composure and began to weep. The piano was a little out of tune, and some of the keys were dead, but that little house suddenly became a sprawling kingdom again.

As he reached the final note on the highest C, no tone rang out. Instead, he heard a clicking noise and a motor whirred to life. Suddenly, the top of the piano popped open. Standing to inspect it, he opened the lid and discovered a wooden box.

Inside the box was a note sitting on top of stacks of one and five dollar bills.

The note read:

I wanted to leave you something special to you, so I saved up. I’m sorry it isn’t more.

But remember child:

You can’t take your money with you when you go. This I know. But I always believed music is another story. Music lives in your soul.

Theodore fell to the bench and wept silently.

“Well! Good afternoon, lazy!” Theodore’s wife teased, as he walked into the kitchen rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“It’s Saturday!” he winked.

“Michaela’s waiting for you in the den,” she said, giving him a kiss.

“Oh, and the community center called. They wanted to thank you for the new building and to let you know that the Mama Mae music program will be ready to go when school starts.”

“That’s great!” he said, “They did quick work!”

“They must have had a good numbers man,” she laughed, “They hinted—not so subtly—that they need another piano teacher three times a week.”

“Tell them I’m in,” he said as he set off for the den.

“Hey you!” Theodore said to his daughter.

“About time!” she said, sitting at the piano bench, eagerly awaiting her lesson.

The old piano sat next to the fireplace, now fully restored and gleaming proudly. Mama Mae’s $20,000 had restored it like new and brought it into perfect tune.

“’Music is another story’,” Michaela said, reading the engraved plaque on the piano’s body, “To Mama Mae. Love Teddy.”

“Who is Teddy?!” she demanded mischievously.

“Do we have to do this every time?” he asked. “Teddy is daddy!”

Michaela giggled.

“Play me something first, Teddy Daddy!”

He picked up the little black notebook from the music rack and thumbed through the pages, stopping on the second to last page.

“We’ll play this one,” he said. “Sometimes you need a little boogie woogie.”