Sydney sat, arms outstretched before her, caressing the keys on family piano while Elisa, Jane’s infant, lay silently napped in her bassinet beside her. Eyes closed, Sydney swayed her head gently to the ethereal melody entangling itself in the serene midday rays of sunlight washing the room.


       Jane stood studying her slow deliberate movements. Her gentleness. Her vulnerability. Aside from her profession and indifferent veneer, this is who she was…. indulged, strong-minded, infinitely patient when given a chance to prove herself and endearing to those around her.


       “Bravo,” Jane clapped, shaking Sydney from her trance. She sat on the sofa in front of Sydney.

“I didn’t think anyone was here,” Sydney offered, brushing slight tears from her eyes.


       “Everyone has gone out. Please keep playing. It’s been a long time since someone has played that thing,” she yawned and reclined. Sydney continued.


       “What time is everyone coming over for dinner?”


       “Howard and Margret and her husband Ian will be here around seven o’clock but I’ll have Howard’s sons with me for the day. Are you ready to meet them?


       “As ready as I’ll ever be I suppose. I’m glad Mark’s friends are coming over. I like them. There are times I wish I had childhood friends,” Sydney focused on her fingers.


       “Don’t we all,” Jane pulled her thick blonde hair back into a bun, “Mark mentioned that you were musically inclined. Is that one of your pieces?”


       “No, it was composed by Patrick Doyle. It’s entitled “My Father’s Favorite”


       “It’s beautiful,” Jane paused for a moment. “Was it a favorite of your father’s?” she ventured, hoping to lure Sydney into talking about herself.


       “Yes, he would play it often. It was composed around the poem “Weep No More Sad Fountain”. He father was a man of the classic.”


Jane covered her legs with a throw blanket and drifted with Sydney’s melody. “Mark also told me your mother was a singer,”


       A short-lived reluctance to open up rose and gave way. “My mother was a great singer. I have most of her records, I’m still missing a couple…they’re difficult to find and before she passed, she misplaced the only copies we had. I’ll find them one day,” she felt at ease talking with Jane. It was too easy. “I always wanted to be like her. Her voice was hypnotic,”


       “You can’t hear her voice anymore, can you?” Jane spoke softly, meeting Sydney’s gaze with a light smile. “Mark said you visit your parents once a week. You talk to your father but you can’t hear your mother,”


       “You think I’m crazy. You mock me.”


       “I don’t mock you. The parental bond is timeless. Just because one passes it doesn’t mean the ones left behind can’t feel them especially with the individuals they were closest to,”


       “Then why won’t she talk to me? Why can’t I hear her?” Sydney fingers graced each key with delicate reserve.


       Jane blow a thoughtful breath. “I can say for certain. I can only speculate,”


       “And what’s your opinion?”


       She thought for a moment. “Well, I imagine that you were very young when she passed away, so this is why you don’t have a clear recollection of her speaking voice. But I also think that you can’t hear her because you doubt yourself. You fear that you haven’t lived up to her expectations,”


       Elisa stirred. Sydney’s protective eyes fell on her and she picked her up in her arms, rocking her back to sleep. 

       Jane smiled. “I’ve watched you with her these last few days. You’ll make an excellent mother,”


       “How?” Sydney laughed. “I can’t even shop for myself. How can I raise a child?” 
 

       “When the time comes, your mother will be there every step of the way and you will hear her voice loud and clear. That’s the way we mother work…we step in when we’re needed, the same way you did just now with Elisa. She was in distress and, without prompt; you went to care for her,”


       “Yeah, I did, didn’t I? Sydney nodded.


       “Yeah, you did,” Jane watched her. “Sydney, your martial instinct is there. Don’t doubt it,”


       “Janey, you are the sweetest person I know,”


       “Thank you. So are you.”


       Sydney say rocking Elisa, lines creased her forehead.


       “What is it?” Jane questioned.


       “What does your faith say about people like me and Mark?”


       “Do you believe in a God?”


       “Yes, but I don’t wear my religion on my shirt sleeve,”


       “That’s good enough,” Jane grinned, her eyes softened more than usual. “My faith teaches me that as long as a person has a belief, that it all that matters. Our belief in a higher being is the common thread that connects us all as humans. Only our expressions of our faith are different,” she shook her head softly. “It doesn’t matter what faith you are, you just have to believe in something outside of yourself,”


       “I love you, Jane,” Sydney offered, covering Elisa’s ears.


       “Well, I am Mark Bryant’s sister so it’s rather difficult to hate me,” she teased. “He is a God amongst men,”


       “He is, isn’t he?” Sydney could barely contain herself.