Stars Dancing [Dreams-To-Lovers Romance]

"Unnnngh," I winced at the morning light coming in through the windows.

"Drink every drop."

Nanna was holding a glass of water to me, so I obeyed, but made my way to the bathroom. DAMMIT. My hair was in Jolene's tell-tale braid down my back, and I tore it out in disgust, shivering and trying not to breathe in gasps.

No. Not here. Nanna was in the kitchen, coffee brewing. Breathe and forget it.

I ran my fingers through my hair and pulled it up in my usual bun. Better. After washing my face and rinsing my disgusting mouth, I headed for the kitchen and coffee.

"And now is the moment you talk, Sam."

I nodded. No way around it, Nanna needed the truth. Every humiliating word.

I looked at the table and bit my lip.

"I— got fired," I whispered.

"Janelynn let you go?"

I nodded.

"Hot damn! Great!"

My head jerked up. "WHAT?!"

"That job was a nightmare, and you know it. Their family is a train wreck, so you're better off with it in your taillights, Sam. I think the preschool at the Methodist church can use you."

"Gods, Nanna. I can't do kids all day every day. I could barely stand it with Joey and Mal. How can—"

"Doesn't mean it's forever, Sam. One step at a time. You don't have to do it today. Take a few days to sleep this—" she waived at my state of duress, "off, and get your head back on straight. Things will look clearer once you're past the shock of it. You went and had a little bender of self-destruction, but at least you came here instead—"

"I danced with her. It wasn't good, Nanna," I eeked out, shame lacing every word.

"I have no doubt that she saw her favorite snack drunk off her rocker and thought she could resume her role as conquerer, but you aren't that child anymore, Sam—"

"What if I am?" I whispered, seeing only the tablecloth before me.

Tears spilled down my cheeks as my head split open and nothing made sense, and all I wanted was the oblivion at the end of a bottle again. Nanna jumped up and pulled my face to her stomach, wrapping her arms around me.

"Go on, Sam. Go on. Let it out, honey. You'll feel better once it's purged."

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Part of me still wanted it. To go home with Jolene and forget about everything except what she demanded. It would be fun. It would be hot. It would be so good.

Until it was not.

When she became the only thing, and I was no thing.

When I was not.

I shook my head against Nanna. No, no, never again. I was NOT hers. Not now. Not then. Not ever.

Spent, I raised my head and Nanna handed me a tissue.

"Finish the coffee. Then, maybe a shower? Filly and Rhoda will be here shortly—"

"WHAT?!"

Nanna rolled her eyes.

I darted to the bathroom, but it was too late. There was already a tiny hand knocking at the front door. I pulled my hair out of the bun and flipped it around my face. No way I could let Rhoda see me red-eyed, swollen, and foul.

"See you, Nanna! So busy! Can't chat!"

I darted away towards freedom.

"Coward! Such a fucking coward, Samantha Mooneyhan!" I ran, rain boots slamming against the sidewalk.

Have you ever run down a sunny sidewalk in your rain boots with a shoulder bag slapping you in the face, and hair looking like a night of bad decisions?

It's a great way to get people out of your way as you stumble towards the Methodist church.

Unlocked. Brilliant. There was a way to lose myself for hours that didn't involve liquid courage that led to disaster.

The piano awaited me, but my shoulder bag held no music. Only my pad. There were unread messages, but I ignored them and flicked on the video recorder, setting the pad on a seat behind the piano.

There were always musical scores in the piano bench, so I lifted the lid and right on top was a colorful sheaf. A girl with pigtails and a blue dress next to people in costumes of metal and some sort of animal. A swirling script at the top of the page read "Somewhere Over The Rainbow." Never heard of it.

I sat at the bench and opened the page. Right hand to keys, I picked out the melody, humming gently. An octave in the first word. Not simple. I smiled, wondering how Cora would sound singing it. Good. Damn good, I bet.

I heard footsteps approaching and wondered if I should stop and turn, but a presence slid next to me on the bench and a metal hand waved for me to keep going.

Pastor Dan's left hand played the notes I was leaving out as I continued to pick out the fingering of the right hand.

Dan's right hand was made of metal, and he rested it in his lap as we played through the piece, then he slid off the bench and motioned for me to scoot over so I could play the lower notes.

We started the song from the beginning, and his metal fingers danced over the upper register as easily as mine had.

This is a talent you might not recognize, but it is something more precious than gold. Few cybernetics learned the fine control to be able to do things those with two hands take for granted like typing on a key pad, but Dan had mastered more than one musical instrument with his metal hand.

When he played piano, you'd never know his fingers were no longer human.

I had no trouble playing the left hand, and when we finished the song, Dan stood up and said softly, "You've got it, Sam."

So I scooted over to the center of the bench and played "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" with my two very human hands.

I didn't really want to sing the song, but I couldn't help lingering over the words, "And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true. Some day I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me. Where trouble melts like lemon drops, away above the chimney tops, that's where you'll find me. . ."

I played it through again, lost in the notes and the feeling of flying beyond rainbows and the words that someone had written about dreams coming true.

And, for that moment, it was enough. I rose on quiet, reverent feet and turned off the video recording. Slipping back into my rain boots, I headed home for a shower, a nap, and some sanity.