The Song of David(30)

There is no end to being;

There is no death above.”



When they finished, Amelie sat back and sighed. “I’m all about girl power, but there is nothing like men’s voices. They knock me out every time. The sound makes my heart ache and my bones soft.”

“Is it the words you love? It was a beautiful song.” I was still thinking about the words.

“I love that particular one. But no. It wouldn’t matter if I couldn’t understand a word they were saying, and there have been days when Mr. Sheldon doesn’t attend or he forgets to open the window, and the music is muffled, even more than it was today. And I still love it. I can’t explain it. But love is like that, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It is.”

“Did you like it? Now you’ve heard two of my favorite sounds.”

“I liked it a lot. I wish I would have worn my sweats instead of this damn suit coat. But hey, at least I didn’t have to actually go to church.”

Amelie reached toward me, feeling along the lapels of my coat and up to my collar. “Yep. I got you good. I can’t believe you agreed to come.”

“You’re wearing a skirt!”

“Yep. If I’d worn pants you would have known something was up.”

I stood and pulled her up with me. “You’re a smart aleck and a tease. I don’t know if I like you, Silly Millie.” I was smiling as I spoke, and she grinned with me before reaching for my lapel once more, as if asking me to wait.

“I want to feel you smile. I can hear when you’re smiling. I love the way it sounds. But I want to feel it. Can I?” she asked sweetly.

I brought her hands to my cheeks and laid them there, dropping my hands to my sides.

“Are you smiling?” she asked.

I realized I wasn’t, not anymore. But she was, her pink lips parted slightly over pearly teeth, her eyes on a distance she would never see. I smiled down into her face, accommodating her, and her hands immediately fluttered over my lips and her fingers traced the grooves in my cheeks. I’d always used those grooves to my full advantage. When her left thumb slid into the notch on my chin, her smile grew even wider.

“You have dimples in your cheeks and a cleft in your chin.”

“My mother dropped me on my face as a child. I’m severely dented. What can I say?”

“Ah. I see.” One hand flitted up and traced the bridge of my nose. “Is that what happened here, too?” she asked, tracing the bump that I’d earned over and over again.

“Nah. My mama’s not to blame for that one. That’s a product of my favorite pastime.”

Her hands moved to cradle my face, melding to the shape of my cheekbones and my jaw. As she pulled her hands downward, the tips of her fingers touched the hair that brushed my neck on either side, and she paused in her exploration. She fingered the curls thoughtfully and a groove appeared between her dark brows.

“Haircuts with Henry tomorrow, huh? That’s very sweet of you. But don’t cut it all away, okay?”

“You like the Scottish highlander look?” I tried for a Scottish brogue, but didn’t quite make it. My heart was pounding and I wanted to close my eyes and lean into her hands. Her explorations were erotic without meaning to be, sensual without sexual intention, but my body didn’t seem to know the difference.

“I don’t know. Maybe? I’m not sure what a Scottish highlander looks like. But I like your face. It’s strong . . . full of character. And the hair suits you.” She was staring up into my face, describing me, and yet she couldn’t see me at all. I stared at her mouth and wondered what she would do if I pressed my lips against hers. Would it startle her or would she recognize the sensation immediately? Had she ever even been kissed? She wasn’t shy and she was beautiful, and at twenty-two she should have had her fair share of boyfriends and kisses. But she was blind, she had a dependent brother, and she spent her free time listening to men’s choirs and babbling brooks. Somehow I suspected she wasn’t all that experienced with men. She dropped her hands and stepped back from me, almost as if she could hear my thoughts.

“Let’s get some ice cream,” she said, and I shook myself awake, pushing away thoughts of kisses and linking her arm back through mine.



(End of Cassette)





Moses




“I WANTED HIM to kiss me. But he didn’t. And I was convinced that he didn’t like me that way,” Millie said sheepishly, her face flushed. I kept expecting her to turn off the tape recorder and ask us to leave. Hearing Tag’s inner thoughts and feelings was downright embarrassing, and when I saw him again, I was going to punish him for making me sit through it.