Missing Dixie(24)

“Sounds good.” I close the door behind Leandra and usher Maisey over to the piano bench. “Show me which piece you’ve been working on.”

For the next half hour I work with Maisey. Her mom arrives a few minutes before her lesson is over and we play a mini-concert complete with a curtsy.

In the hour before my next lesson, I sit and I wait.

He’ll be here. He always is.

He won’t ring the bell or knock. He’ll just wander almost aimlessly up to the porch and stand there until I let him inside.

It took him two weeks to come inside and a third week before he told me his name.

Liam.

I don’t know what his story is, or why he shows up here, but I always make sure to have a snack and a beginner piano lesson ready.

Today is the same as before. I listen for him, opening the door once I hear him on the front porch.

The sight of him breaks my heart and yet again, I don’t see a car in sight that could’ve dropped him off. His clothes are stained and threadbare and his hair is oily as if he could use a good bath. I want to offer him more than cookies or a sandwich or a piano lesson but I can’t find the words that would make this appropriate. So I just stick to our routine. For now.

“Good afternoon, Liam.” I’m careful to keep my voice low. He’s got the demeanor of a cornered animal that might flee the room at any time.

“Hi,” he says just as quietly.

“Come sit,” I say, pulling out the piano bench. “I picked out ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’ today. It’s a good one.”

His eyes narrow like they always do, as if he’s waiting for this to be a lie or a trick. Liam is a dark-haired little boy with matching eyes that darken when he gets frustrated, which happens often. He reminds me of another broody musician I know. I contemplate asking Gavin to give him drum lessons because piano, violin, and even guitar pretty much just piss him off. I want to love and hug Liam the same way I want to smother Gavin with love to help guide him out of the darkness, but that would likely piss him off, too.

Liam keeps a shield up, an impenetrable one I’m almost envious of.

He stumbles through the song with my encouragement two full times before telling me he’s done.

“Okay, that was good. Did you want to try any other instruments today?”

He shakes his head and stares at the floor.

“Whew, playing piano is tiring work. You want a sandwich and some pretzels or something? Tea? A soda?”

Liam’s eyes lift and lighten for a few seconds before he shrugs. “That’d be okay I guess.”

Once I’ve retrieved the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and pretzels, I set them down on the table along with a sandwich for myself. I grab both a grape soda and a glass of iced tea, not sure which he’ll prefer. He reaches for the soda and downs almost all of it in two drinks.

Watching him eat makes me lightheaded and heartbroken. He eats like he hasn’t eaten in months.

I slide my plate in his direction. “You know what? I messed up. I put grape jelly on my sandwich and I only like strawberry. Think you could eat mine, too, so it doesn’t go to waste?”

He barely takes a breath before nodding and inhaling the second sandwich.

Every week I tell myself I’m going to find out what this kid’s deal is, who’s neglecting him this way. Every week I get scared that if I push him he’ll disappear. Asking about his parents has been a major failure each time. His mom is dead, he says, and his dad doesn’t like “no one in their business.”

I decide to take a different approach.

“Liam? Can you tell me about your house? What it’s close to?”

He wipes his mouth with his sleeve and takes a long drink of soda. “Where the big trucks are. It’s by where the big trucks get gas.”

I rack my brain for a few seconds. There’s a truck stop beside the highway . . . but the only houses out there are run-down and mostly condemned. I tell myself he can’t possibly be crossing the highway alone to get here.

Can he?

“Can you tell me what your house looks like? Does it look like this one?”

His chair scrapes the floor as he backs up quickly to stand. “I gotta go. I’ll get in trouble if I don’t get home soon.”

I stand as well. “Can I drive you home? You could show me the way. That way I’ll know—”

“No,” he says, coming the closest to shouting as I’ve ever seen him. “My daddy doesn’t like people on his property. Says it’s trespassin’.”

“Okay.” I nod and walk slowly with him to the door. “You come back anytime, Liam. Okay? Tonight, tomorrow, whenever you want.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers as I open the door for him.

After he leaves and I’ve composed myself a bit, I remember to check my phone and am surprised to see two messages from Dallas. One says to call when I can and the other asks what I think. What I think about what?

Jag texted and asked me if we could have dinner to talk. I assume he’s planning to ask Cassidy out and I find it mildly amusing that he’s asking me, queen of disastrous and impossible relationships, for advice.

I text Jag back and tell him to let me know when and where and then I dial Dallas, praying he doesn’t answer out of breath and totally gross me out and ruin my lunch break.