Opus One

Chapter 4: Trio

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When Richard got back to his room that evening, Jer was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling.

“Where have you been, man?” Richard asked.

“Huh?”

“I thought you were coming into the city with us this morning.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot I had a lesson,” he said.  He sat up and rubbed his face.  “At six I woke up to take a piss and remembered.  So I went to practice.”

“Close one.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jer said dismissively.

“Would’ve sucked if you missed your first lesson.”

“Nah.  Mr. Barnes is cool.”

“My teacher would have kicked me out of her studio, probably.”

Jer just shrugged.  “What’ve you been up to?”

“Just hanging out with a couple of girls.”

“The ones you went into the city with?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Cool.  I’m gonna go and hang out with Jenna, want to come?”

“Who’s Jenna?”

“Just some girl I know from Gybso.”

“Gybso?  What’s that?”

“Greater Boston Youth Symphony Orchestra.  She’s cool.  We used to go out.”

“And now?”

“Eh, sometimes we fool around, but we’re not attached, you know.”

“Mm.  Well, thanks for the offer, but I think I’m going to hit the sack.  Long day.”

“Cool.  See you later.”

Jer slipped out into the hallway, and then came back in.  “Hey, some guy left a message in some weird language.  I wasn’t sure if it was for you, but I left it on the machine anyway.”

Richard chuckled.  “Yeah, probably my dad.”

“All right, later.”

There was indeed a message on the answering machine from Richard’s dad.  They had gotten home safely, and were anxious to hear how the first lesson with Ms. Tertychnaya had gone.  Richard’s mom got on near the end to give her greetings.

Richard smiled as he listened.  If they only knew the fun he was having.

The next morning Jer was not in his bed again.  Richard wondered if he was practicing on his bass, or practicing on Jenna.  If he had come back the night before, Richard sure didn’t remember hearing him.

He dialed up his parents, hoping to catch them before they went to work.

“Allo?” Vittorio answered the phone.

“Papa,” Richard greeted.

“Riccardo!  How are you?  Did you get our message?” he said.  The conversation proceeded in Italian.

“Yeah, I did.  Everything is great here.”

“How was your lesson?”

“Good.  I played the Liszt for her.”

“And?”

“And we worked on it.  She showed me some things to do with it.”

“Good, good.  How is your roommate?”

“He’s nice.”

“What’s his name?”

“Jer.”

“What?”

“Jer.” Richard said again.

“Chair?” Vittorio repeated awkwardly.  English was never easy for him. 

Richard laughed.  “Yeah, Chair.”

There was a pause.  “Like what you sit on?”

“Yeah.”

Another pause.  “Strange name…”

“How’s Mama?”

“Good.  Here, she wants to talk to you.  Ei!  Riccardo, remember to practice a lot!  That’s why you are there.”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Good.  Here’s Mama.”

There was a pause as Richard’s mother took the phone.

“Allo, Riccardo?” Angelina said.

“Hi Ma.”

Richard smiled as he again answered all the same questions his Dad had just asked him. 

“I’m going to go practice now,” Richard said.

“Okay, Riccardo, we love you.”

“Love you too, Ma.”

Richard hung up.  He was hungry, and he realized he hadn’t made any plans to eat breakfast with Sandra and Emily.

On his way downstairs, he stopped by their room.  Sandra was doing some vocal exercises.  Richard knocked during a pause.

“Oh, hi Richard!” Sandra said brightly after she opened the door.

“Hey.  Sorry to interrupt.”

“No, it’s fine.  I don’t really feel like practicing yet anyway.  Way too early to sing.”

“Have you eaten yet?”

“No, you?”

“Nah, me neither.  Is Emily practicing?” Richard asked.

“Yeah, she went to the practice rooms.”

“Let’s swing by on the way to the cafeteria.”

Emily had just gotten out her horn when Richard and Sandra found her in one of the practice rooms.

“Hey, girl, want to go eat?” Sandra said.

Emily laughed.  “I was going to play some before eating, but you two look like you’re ready to go.”

“You don’t have to come, if you really feel the need to practice.”

“And miss the first cafeteria meal?  You’re joking, right?”

“We’d give you a full report,” Richard said.

“Then I’d probably never want to eat there.  Give me a minute to pack up.”

I’m glad they came to find me, Emily thought.

The walk to Tapler cafeteria was about five minutes.  Far enough to be annoying if one just wanted a quick snack.

“God, this sucks,” Richard said.  “Looks like everyone had the same idea.”

The place was mobbed with people. 

“So what’s today’s exciting activity?” Sandra asked, as they waited in the long line for omelets.

“I think today is the tour of Crantz Hall,” Emily said.

“That should be neat.”

“Yeah, it’s a cool place.  I visited a few years ago, when my Dad guest conducted.”

“Does your Dad travel a lot?” Richard asked.

“Yeah, he has guest slots all over the place.”

“Did you get to travel with him?”

“Nah.  I did go to school, you know.”

“Mm.  What’s your Mom do?”

“Nothing.  She died.”

“Oh, I’m really sorry.  I’ll shut up now,” Richard said.

“No, it’s okay.  It was a long time ago.  He’s been through a bunch of wives since.”

“A bunch?”

“Yeah.  I never liked any of them.  Obviously he didn’t either.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Well, such is life.”

Jer appeared out of nowhere, with a short blonde girl tagging along.

“Yo, Richard, what’s up?” he said.

“Hey, Jer.  How’s it going?”

“Good.  Can we cut in here?”

“Sure, I don’t care.”

“This is Jenna,” he said, gesturing to his companion.  Richard nodded at her.

“Hey, I saw you three in the city yesterday,” Jenna said.

“Oh, were you on the bus?” Emily said, grinning.

“Yeah, I never went on the tour last year.  But that sucked!  It was so hot on that bus.  You guys had the right idea.”

“I’m Emily, by the way,” she said, giving Richard a look.

“Oh, yeah, sorry, and this is Sandra,” he said quickly.

“Jenna, nice to meet you.”

“And my roommate Jer,” he added.

After greetings were exchanged, there was an awkward pause.

“I heard the food here is supposed to be better this year,” Jenna said.

“We’ll see.  I hope so,” Richard said.

“Last year it was pretty bad.”

“Are you a sophomore?” Sandra asked.

“Yeah.  We called this place Crapler.”

“Great,” Richard groaned.

They ordered their omelets and eventually found a table.

“Why are you still in the dorm if you hate the food?” Emily asked.  Richard smiled slightly at her directness.

“I was going to get an apartment with someone, but they chose not to come back.”

“I thought she got kicked out,” Jer said.

“She did,” Jenna laughed.  “Her only choice was not to come back.”

“This could be worse,” Jer said, waving a piece of omelet around with his fork.  It slipped off and flew onto Jenna’s plate.

“Jer!  That’s gross,” Jenna exclaimed, picking the offending piece off and tossing it back onto his plate.

“I didn’t chew it!  Chill…”

“What did your almost-roommate do to get kicked out?” Sandra asked Jenna.

“She didn’t cut it in the theory department, and she had a falling out with her teacher.”

“She didn’t practice, either,” Jer said darkly.

Richard felt his stomach twitch nervously.  I haven’t practiced in two days.

 “I think I was a bad influence on her,” Jenna added.

“How?”

“She was my roommate in the dorm.  She came from this really religious family.  She was like real straight-laced, didn’t drink, smoke, swear, nothing.  If I said ‘damn’ in front of her, she’d close her eyes and turn away.  I mean, we couldn’t be more opposite.  But, you know, I liked her.  Beneath the straightjacket her parents put on her, she was a cool person.”

“So you corrupted her,” Emily said.

“Well, it wasn’t like I was on a mission to do that, but she was around me a lot.  Eventually she gave into… temptations.”  Jenna chuckled.  “Over Christmas break she had a huge fight with her family, and then spring semester she did an about flip.  She went way overboard though.  She always had trouble with theory, and she kind of let that go.  Then she called her flute teacher some names when he got tough on her.”

“She went down in flames, basically,” Jer said.

“Now she’s looking for work on the Broadway scene in New York.  So that’s why I’m still in the dorm.”

“Crazy story,” Sandra said.

“Yeah, but not uncommon.  More than a few people crash out of this school,” Jenna said.

“Are the theory classes really hard?” Richard asked.

“Depends who you have.”

“Dobra and Connelly.”

“Heh heh.  Dobra is an ass,” Jenna said.  “Connelly is pretty lenient, though.”

Sandra wailed.  “Why do I have to have Dobra for both classes?”

“Oh, you’ll probably do well,” Jenna dismissed.

“Why?”

“Because you’re pretty.”

“What?”

“People say he has a soft spot for good looking girls.”

“Eew, now I really don’t want to be in his class!”

“Just don’t go to his office, and you’ll be fine,” Jenna said.

“Unless you’re failing,” Emily said with a snigger.

“Emily, that’s nasty!”

“Better than failing out of school.”

“No way.”

“Hey, if I had to screw Ms. Connelly to pass, I’d do it,” Jer said.  Jenna backhanded him on the arm.

“Why, is she hot?” Emily asked.

“She’s not bad.  She administered my placement test when I auditioned.  If I was failing...”

“She’d probably fail you for sure after screwing you,” Jenna said.

“Ouch!” laughed Emily.

The rest of them guffawed as Jer glared at Jenna.  He had no comeback, though.

“Dude, when you invited me on the city tour, you didn’t tell me your friends were hot,” Jer said, when he and Richard were back in their room.  Richard smiled as he collected his music to go and practice.

“You had a lesson,” Richard said.

“So?  I would have ditched.”

“You’re with Jenna.”

“Not really.  We’re kind of loosely not together, sort of.”

“Whatever the hell that means!”

“Which one are you with?”

Richard looked at Jer.

“I don’t know,” he finally said.  “Both?”

“Hog.  I knew you were going to say that.”

Richard laughed.  “I’m gonna go practice.  Later.”

“Later.”

Richard found a practice room fairly quickly, and it was a nice piano to boot.  The one he had practiced on a few days earlier was somewhat unresponsive.  He noted the practice room number.

After warming up with some scales and arpeggios, he pulled out the Liszt piece and threw his mind back to the lesson.  Ms. Tertychnaya had said so many things, he didn’t know where to start. 

Start in the music, he heard her say in his head.

He started from the beginning, and as he played the first section, her words started coming to him.  He stopped, and restarted.  In the early phrases, she wanted more melody.  But how? 

Richard experimented with playing the first phrase over and over again.  He used different combinations of pedal and fingerings to try and make the chords sing melodies. 

After a half-hour, he had new appreciation for how much he had to learn.  Richard knew he had technical skill on the piano.  He was gifted with it and demonstrated it from an early age.  Fast runs and intricate passagework were no problem for him after some practice.

But already in one lesson, Ms. Tertychnaya had shown him a different look at technique.  For the last thirty minutes he had been exploring the subtleties of tone and fingering, and found that it was every bit as hard to reproduce consistently as the fancy and the bombastic.

It was a bit frustrating, too.  Every time he thought he finally had gotten the passage just right, the next pass was a step back.

But this is why I love music, he reminded himself.

The tour of Crantz Hall was impressive.  Even Emily was affected by the atmosphere, and was unusually reserved.  The concert hall was a mix of classical ornate and modern oblique.  Not unlike the art museum, Richard noted, wondering if the buildings were related. 

The tour guide started in the entryway, and then took the students into the hall to sit in the audience section as he gave some of the history and facts about the hall. 

Backstage was all business:  lighting boards, curtain controls, and a myriad of cables running up into the heights.  They faded in and out of the shadows as the students walked behind the moveable backdrops.

The tour guide led the group out onto the stage, and had them face out into the empty rows of chairs.  He sang out a clear note, and then cut it off.  The group listened as the reverberations lasted over three seconds.  He said a loud orchestra chord could be heard for over five seconds.

The silence was impeccable.  Richard imagined standing there in front of the thousands of people who would fill the hall, clapping, on their feet…  What a feeling that would be!  One day, he thought, one day.

“You know, the food at the cafeteria isn’t that bad,” Richard said.

“No, it’s actually edible,” Emily admitted.

“My pasta was good,” Sandra said.

The three of them were headed back to the dorm after dinner.  Jer and Jenna were going to a party.  Emily had not wanted to go, so they split up.

“What are we doing tonight?” Richard said.

“Scrabble?” Emily said cheerfully.

“And get our asses whipped again?  I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet,” Sandra said.

“I have this other game called Taboo,” Emily said.

“Taboo, huh?” Richard said with arched brow.  “Sounds naughty.”

“Don’t you wish, Richard,” Emily said.  “It’s a word game.”

“Great,” Sandra groaned.

“No, not like Scrabble.  If it were a card game, it would be more like Spit, not Bridge.”

“Oh, all right, that sounds better.  Have any wine left?” Sandra asked.

“You two are such mooches!”

“What?  We offered to cover our share, and you didn’t let us!” Richard protested.

“Chill, I was just kidding.  Of course I have some wine left.”

Once they had settled into the girls’ dorm room, Emily poured some wine into three glasses and put on some music.

“What is this?” Sandra asked.

“Nine Inch Nails.”

Emily dug the game out of her closet.

“So how does this game work?” Richard asked.

“It’s better in teams of two, but we can still play.  For each turn there are three roles.  One person takes a card.  You have to describe the word on top, without saying the word or any of the other five words on that card.  The second person has to guess the word on top.  Like here we have ‘wedding.’  I have to get Sandra to say ‘wedding.’  But I can’t say any of the other words on the card: ‘marriage,’ ‘bride,’ ‘groom,’ ‘nuptials,’ or ‘honeymoon.’”

“Sounds easy enough,” Richard said.  “What does the third person do?”

“Checks that I don’t say one of the taboo words.  That’s what this annoying buzzer is for.  It’s my favorite part,” Emily said evilly, as she demonstrated.  

“So then what?  Say I guess ‘wedding,’” Sandra said.

“Once the person guesses, then the reader takes another card.  Times up when the hourglass timer is done.  So we’ll rotate who does what.  Reader and guesser get one point per card, reader loses a point for each mess up.”

“So you can say anything you want except the words on the card?” Sandra said.

“Yeah.  Or any form.  You can’t say ‘wedlock,’ or ‘bridal,’ for example.”

“All right, this is easy.  Let’s go.  I’ll read first,” Richard said.

“I’ll guess,” Sandra offered.

Emily flipped the hourglass and Richard pulled up the first card.  “Okay, this is a thing that you… shit, um…  you take this out on the road and – ”

Bzzzzzzt!

“What?” Richard exclaimed.

“Can’t say ‘road’.”  Emily pointed to the word printed clearly on the card.

“Oh, shit.  All right.”  Richard took another card.  “Okay, you use this in the… room that you… prepare… stuff you… um... put in your… mouth…”

“Kitchen!  Oven?  Dishwasher!?” Sandra guessed.

“No, um… ice can go in it, to ch—mince it up.  Damn, this is harder than I thought!”

“Keep going!” Sandra urged, as she continued to guess.

“Um… It has knifelike things in it, that go around.”

“Blender!”

“Yeah!  Next.  All right, this is something that you… place… inside of…  Shit.  Um, when, when you take…”

“Time!” Emily cried out.

“Already?”

“Yeah.  Let’s see, Sandra gets one point.  Richard, you have zero, since you fucked up on ‘car.’”

Emily noted the score on a paper, and then took the stack of cards.  “Let me show you how it’s done.  I’ll read to Sandra.  Ready?”

Richard flipped the timer, and grabbed the buzzer, ready to get Emily back.

“Okay, Sandra, what did you have for lunch today?”

“Pasta?”

“What kind?”

“Um, spaghetti?”

“Ding!”  Emily flipped another card.  “Name some mammals that live at your house.”

“Mammals?  Uh, dogs, cows, pigs, chi – ”

“Ding!  Pig.  Next.  Let’s see.  All right, if electricity goes out, we can see by setting a Zippo to…”

“Candles.”

“Yeah!  Next.”

Richard grinned as Emily racked up seven points with Sandra.

“Looks like another game we’ll be getting our asses kicked in,” Richard groaned, as Emily notated the score.

“Drink more wine, then, Riccardo,” Emily said, patting his leg.  “It’ll numb the pain.”

Much later, the trio were still playing.  Richard and Sandra had learned some tricks by listening to Emily read, and had regained ground.  The wine was also making everyone a little careless, and Emily had drawn some hard words.  Their glasses were empty, since they had gone to swigging straight from the bottle when they opened the second one.

“All right, last game,” Sandra announced.  “Richard’s turn to read to me.  How many points do I need to win?”

“Um, let’s see.  Three points.  Richard would need, uh, twelve.”

“Come on, Richard, we can do it!” Sandra urged.

“No way,” Emily said.  “Three is doable, not twelve.  My best ever was nine.  But good luck.”

“Ready?”

“Go!”

Richard turned up the first card.  “This is what you do when you want to… beat some one up.  Um, let’s see… You can do this with your, your fists.  Um, punch, or pound.” 

Why aren’t any of those words on here? Richard wondered.  What does ‘horse’ have to do with it?

“Hit?  Smack?”  Sandra guessed wildly.

Emily was smiling mischievously.

“Um, like that, keep going,” Richard urged.  “Name some other things, like hitting.  Pounding.”

“I don’t know.  Bitch-slap?”

Emily burst out laughing.

“Shh!  Uh, I don’t know, when you beat the crap out of someone, you do this.  Pound.”

“Richard, I don’t know!  Beat up, fight?”

Richard eyed the timer.  It was most of the way out.

“Pummel?” Sandra said.

“Yes!” Richard yelled.  He moved to take the next card.

“That’s not the word,” Emily said. 

“What?”

“That’s not the word on the card.”

Richard looked.  Pommel… 

“Fuck!” he yelled.

“Time!” Emily said a second later.  Her mouth was twitching.

“What do you mean?” Sandra said.

“The word was pommel, like pommel horse.  Didn’t you wonder why none of the words on the card had to do with punching, Richard?” Emily asked, as she showed Sandra the card.

Richard just shot daggers at her with his eyes, but when Sandra started laughing, he joined in. 

“Damn, I could have won!” Sandra said.  “Richard messed it all up.”

“I’m sorry,” Richard said.

Sandra patted his knee.  “No, no, I was just kidding.”

Emily passed the wine bottle around.

“Woooo!” Sandra yelled.  “That was fun.  I’m really feeling this wine.”

“Me too,” Emily admitted.

Sandra lay back on the rug, stretching herself along the base of her bed. 

“Are they really saying what I think they’re saying in this song?” Sandra said.

Emily laughed.

“I want to fuck you like an animal!” Sandra sang along with Trent on the CD.

“Okay,” Richard said, louder than he intended.  He immediately felt heat in his face.

Sandra lifted her head and frowned at him, and then started laughing.

“I think we need to cut Richard off,” Emily said, taking the wine bottle from him.

Richard stood, and steadied himself on the table.  “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” Sandra asked.

“Um, the bathroom?  Is that all right?”

“Oh, okay.  You’re not going to bed yet, are you?”

“No, I’ll come back.”

“I want my head massage.”

“Me too,” chimed Emily.

“Don’t fall down the stairs, or I’ll be really mad,” Sandra said.  “And sad,” she added.

Richard chuckled as he closed the door behind him.  He ran up the stairs to the men’s room, and splashed some water on his face. 

Once he was back in front of the girls’ door, he ran his hands through his hair, breathing deeply.  His body was loose from the wine.  He wondered what was going to happen when he went back inside.  Sandra was giving him some looks that made him want to… to what?  What about Emily?  I really like her too.  I know she feels the same way. 

The previous night when Sandra had stepped out to the bathroom, Richard and Emily had been so close to kissing.  They were inches apart as they cleaned up the dinner plates.  Emily had moved in, surely to kiss Richard, but then had suddenly started talking about modeling for the art class again.  Why didn’t she kiss me?  Does she want me to be with Sandra?  Surely she can see the way Sandra is flirting with me.  Does it bother her?

It was no use trying to think about it.  Every time Richard tried to analyze the relationship he had with Sandra and Emily, it slipped away, like water through his fingers.

He sighed and opened the door.

Richard walked in, looking a little flushed.  Emily watched him from her bed.  She had switched the music to a Jacques Loussier CD.

“What’s this?” he asked, gesturing to the stereo.

Emily told him.

“Pretty interesting.  Is the whole CD like this?”

“Yeah.  All Bach.  All played as a jazz trio.”

“Hmm.  It’s really cool.  I may want to borrow this sometime.  All right, who’s first?” he announced.

Sandra was still lying partly under her bed.

“I’ll wait.  I can’t move right now.”  She hummed the tune to the Nine Inch Nails song.  The line about fucking like animals.

Emily smiled.  That girl really reacts to the wine.  A few more sips and she’ll be all over Richard.

Emily slid off the bed and leaned back against it, as Richard sat on the edge behind her.  As he began his work, she closed her eyes, relaxing into his touch.  His fingers lit her up, making pleasurable waves spread through her torso.  And he was only touching her scalp.  She wished he would move his hands all over her body. 

But Sandra!  I like her too much to steal Richard away from her.  She’s so flirty with him sometimes.  Especially after some wine!  Why didn’t I find him sooner? Why didn’t I kiss him last night?   I just want to…

The word ‘Taboo’ stared up at her from the game box.  Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the late hour, but the word pulsed in the dim light.

Taboo.

Taboo.

Sandra watched as Richard worked through Emily’s hair.  She had her eyes closed, and Sandra could see the pleasure on her face.  She imagined the touch of his fingers on her own hair.  She could almost feel it.  The gentle circles he was making with his finger, and now the long lines down the part, adding one finger at a time to the movement, and finishing with a flourish before adding more pressure again and massaging her temples.

She watched Richard, now imagining his hands in places on her own body that they were not visiting on Emily’s.  Her shoulders, her neck.  Lower still.

Richard caught her look, and gazed back at her.  Sandra smiled openly, invitingly.  Richard returned the smile, his gaze unwavering.

For a long time they looked at each other’s eyes, as Emily let out a murmur.  Richard moved his hands down to Emily’s shoulders.  Sandra felt a tingle run up her spine as she watched his hands do their work.  I hope he does that to me.

Finally Richard finished.  Emily crawled onto the bed with a quiet thank you, and Sandra got up unsteadily, moving to take Emily’s place between Richard’s legs. 

She almost shuddered when his hands touched her head.  He touched her differently than he did Emily, she could tell.  Gentler.  Maybe he thinks I’m more delicate.  If he ever comes to my farm he’ll see otherwise, she thought.  But she liked the gentle touch.  His hands worked their magic on her. 

Suddenly, Richard’s fingers slowed.  Done already?  Part of her wanted to grab them and put them back to work.  He’s probably tired; next time I’ll go first, Sandra thought. 

Richard’s hands moved around distractedly for a few seconds.  Then they resumed their original touch, and Sandra relaxed again.  The touch was more sensual now.  It was much less a massage, and much more a caress.  She loved it.

All I need now is his hands on my shoulders…

Richard had his eyes closed as he massaged Sandra.  He felt a hand on his cheek.  It gently pulled his face around.  He could sense Emily kneeling on the bed behind him.  He almost opened his eyes, but the moment was so surreal that he chose not to shatter it with reality. 

Emily’s lips materialized out of the darkness and pressed themselves against his.  Her tongue wasted no time moving into his mouth.

He breathed deeply as the world spun around him for a moment.

Is this a dream?

He then remembered his body.  His hands were absently tracing Sandra’s hair.  He regained some sense and returned to caressing her head, as Emily kept his mouth occupied with her delicious tongue.

Sandra let out a slight moan as he lowered his hands to her neck.  Her skin felt slightly damp as he ran his palms over her shoulders.  Richard felt some movement from Sandra, and then the two thin ribbons of her tank top straps were no longer on her shoulders.

Emily broke off the kiss absolutely silently. 

Richard opened his eyes, and found himself looking into Emily’s eyes not six inches away.  She was smiling sexily at him.  She glanced down at Sandra, and then put a finger to her lips.

Emily disappeared behind him as she lay down on her pillow again.

Her arm snaked around Richard’s waist.  Richard watched it glide across his thigh, in slow motion.

Sandra hoped she hadn’t been too bold in lowering her straps, but she was beyond caring anymore.  She didn’t like the way the straps were separating part of her body from Richard’s hands.

As Richard worked her shoulders, she felt like she could be there forever.

The touch almost made her jump.  She had to concentrate to realize that Richard still had both his hands on her shoulders.  Then is it… Emily that’s massaging my head?  It has to be.   The realization came suddenly.  Her touch is different than Richard’s.  But no less caring. 

For a moment Sandra struggled with the meaning of this third hand on her head.  But like wine through a sieve, it slipped away.

All she felt was ecstasy.

Emily felt Richard’s hands work their way back up onto Sandra’s head.  His fingers intertwined with hers, and their three hands worked as one.

Emily closed her eyes, smiling.  She stopped moving, stopped directing her arm.  Richard took control of her hand and guided it through Sandra’s hair.

Emily was drifting off.  She wondered what the morning would bring as she tried to hold on to her consciousness.  But like sand through an hourglass, it slipped away.

“Goodnight,” she whispered.

Forward to Chapter 5

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