Lynn’s cell phone played the opening bars to ‘God Bless America.’ She touched 'talk', said only ‘No’, looked my way, excused herself, went into the hall closet and closed the door.
I sat frozen on the piano bench and waited as patiently as I could for her to come out but ten minutes was all I could take. My knocking on the closet door brought no reply. This called for action. I opened the door and there she was, sitting on the floor, her head on her bent knees, her body shaking with sobs. Lynn motioned for me to go, get out, leave her alone. That I could not, would not, do.
Instead, I sat down on the slightly worn carpet next to her, put my arm around her shoulder and locked my lips. We stayed like that, swaying a little for a long time. ‘You can’t help me. Robbie’s commanding officer informed me that Robbie has been injured but gave me no other information. Isn’t that a dumb thing to do, Sis? Go home.’ ‘I’m not leaving you now, Sis. You need me more than you did when you fell into the lake and didn’t know how to swim. Come on, get out of the closet. I’ll play piano for you and if you are good, I won’t sing.’
I took her hand and helped her back on her feet. The love songs she usually asks for and hums when I treat her to my clumsy playing wouldn’t be right. Classics are too somber, my repertoire too scant. I ran a riff of nursery rhymes, Here we go around the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush and Row, row, row your boat, stopped looked around for Lynn’s reaction and she wasn’t in the room.
She simply evaporated and came back in the kitchen. ‘What are you making? I asked even though I saw a pot of water boiling on the range and a box of raspberry Jell-O already torn open on the table. Trying to be light-hearted, I suggested she add some fruit, canned if she doesn’t have fresh handy. ‘I’ll be here when it sets,’ I told her.
Her cell rang again. Lynn was visibly shaken and knocked over the boiling water. Fortunately it only splashed on her shoe. From her expression I knew who was calling. ‘Yes, Colonel Kelley, this is Mrs. Robert Burrows. What has happened to my husband?’ Her voice and hands shook. ‘He’s not dead, is he? Please don’t tell me he’s dead!’ Lynn listened a moment, looked at me and shook her head ‘No.’ I breathed a little easier. ‘He’s a hero, Mrs. Burrows but I am not at liberty to tell you more now. He is in the hospital on base, has lost no vital parts and will be returning to the States next week. We are expecting him to reach Bethesda for rehab and you will be advised as to visiting days. He’s doing well and wants you to keep writing those lovely letters that he shares with his buddies.’ ‘Colonel, that means he isn’t blind, right?’ ‘Right.’
Linda thanked him, told me all that I had missed. She took a box of lemon Jell-O from the cabinet, set the water to boil again. With a teary twinkle in her eye she asked me to play ‘I’ll See You Again.’ I play it smoothly, almost professionally, I think. Linda hums, hugs me and suggests I take more piano lessons.
We laugh and go back to the kitchen to make the lemon Jell-O.
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