artwork on the walls, making sketches.
I, the jack-of-all-trades, apparently had no hobbies to call my own, not like the others did, and so I was left at loose ends. It would’ve been a good chance to flirt with Laurie, but somehow that would’ve felt weird with so many other sisters in the house. Jo would probably call me on it if I tried anyway, accusing me of breaking the pact. So I had to be satisfied with smiling at him as we came and went, and introducing dude to him as a form of address.
Only Beth stayed away, in spite of Jo’s description of the piano. She was too shy of the old man, too shy of life.
Monday, it was off to the wretched Kings again with Meg.
Tuesday, it was off to wretched Aunt March’s with Jo.
It was Wednesday when things began to change.
On Tuesday night, alerted by Jo to Beth’s specific fears about his heavy eyebrows and fears of him in general, Mr. Laurence paid us a visit. As Beth listened, clinging fearfully to her limbless and headless doll—whose name I’d since learned was peculiarly Joanna—he told Marmee that he could really use someone to play the piano and help keep it in tune since Laurie so rarely played. And whose fault was that? I wondered. Mr. Laurence assured Marmee that anyone who was kind enough to keep the piano in tune need not worry about being bothered by the rest of the household. In fact, that person could simply come and go as she pleased.
What an awesome invitation. For the first time in my life, I wished I played the piano. Too bad the only musical talents I’d ever possessed had been the sort to elicit “You suck” pronouncements from my real sisters.
But it was a perfect opportunity for Beth. And for once, it seemed she wanted something enough to let go of her fears. Slipping her tiny hand into the old man’s large one, she offered up her services as pianist.
It was quite a thing to see, the way this gruff and stiff old man melted into a puddle around Beth.
But then it was Wednesday and there was Beth steeling her courage to walk across to the Laurence estate. I went with her and we entered quietly by the side door, and discovered the simple sheet music that I was sure the old man had deliberately left out for her.
Beth took a seat at the piano, touched the keys in awe, breathed a happy sigh.
“You needn’t stay any longer, Emily,” she said. “It was so kind of you to accompany me this far, but I can manage from here.”
“Are you sure?”
She was. And then it occurred to me: she wanted to be alone, wanted her first time at this piano to be exactly as Mr. Laurence had promised her it would be—without fear of bothering anyone and no one bothering her.
I went out the music room door, thinking I might find Laurie. Perhaps we could have a little chat, maybe get to finally know each other better without nosy Jo around.
But as I moved to close the door, and Beth began to play, I saw Mr. Laurence open his study door to listen, and then I looked up the winding staircase, and saw Laurie standing guard there, warning the servants away. How sweet was that? It was so sweet.
Still, I realized then that this wasn’t the place for me, or at least not at that moment. It was Beth’s moment, Beth’s day.
It was time for me to find something else to do with myself, outside of intruding on other people’s stories.
What I should do, I thought, lame as it might be, is go home and do Beth’s share of the housework as well as my own. That would be the nice, sisterly thing to do. But I didn’t want to do that.
I decided to walk into town.
So far, I’d only been to the Hummels’, the Kings’, the Laurences’, and Aunt March’s, and it was high time I saw something else. The other sisters had all bought Christmas presents for Marmee somewhere, so there must be at least one store around here, some sort of town center perhaps.
But, I wondered, arriving at the street, which way was town?
Hmm … the traffic on the street, such as it was, the few carriages in sight, all seemed to be heading … that way.
Figuring that must be where the action was, and hoping there really was action and that it wasn’t