them, and she treasured it more than anything else she owned.
With a sniff for her less-than-agile fingers, she re-stacked the sheet music, wondering briefly if Elsie knew how to read music. No matter. Melvin had often said Veronica Liantro could teach a willing lamppost to sing, and Elsie was no lamppost.
Picking one of her favorites, Vero began to hum. It was a simple tune, well suited to a beginner.
Then she heard footsteps in the hallway and turned to greet her student. "Hello, Elsie. Welcome to our home." She ignored the awestruck eyes - the grueling reality of voice lessons would make that fade soon enough. "I hope your trip here was uneventful." It would be a very cold day before she let herself be zapped through a computer, but it was a fine way for younger people to travel.
Elsie took a deep breath, looking down. "I think so - hopefully all of me has arrived."
Vero chuckled, rich and deep. "Now there's something you don't hear said every day."
Elsie's giggle seemed to surprise her. They would need to work on that. To sing well, the singer must first feel.
And obviously small talk wasn't going to help the poor girl relax. "Right. Let's get started, then." Vero turned to the piano and touched a key. "I'm just going to sing some very simple notes to warm up. I want you to repeat them after me."
She could barely hear Elsie's voice at first, and what little did come out sounded like a tortured cat. Vero just kept playing and singing simple runs of notes, trusting the music to do its work. As Elsie relaxed, her voice got stronger - untrained, for sure, but clear and true to the notes, and the girl had quite a nice range for a beginner.
Vero dropped her hands to her lap. "You have a lovely voice, dear, but your diaphragm is entirely wimpy. Let's work on that, shall we?"
"I'm so sorry." Elsie looked horrified. "I've never taken singing lessons before. I don't have any idea how to do things correctly."
"Of course you don't." And it was a sin that the girl had never been properly taught. "That's why you've come to see me. I'm considered a bit of an expert on fixing wimpy diaphragms."
Elsie wrung her hands in dismay. "You're a genius. I really appreciate you offering to teach me, but I'm not remotely qualified to be your student."
A successful opera singer could pull emotion on a moment's notice, and Vero never missed her cues. She rose from the piano stool, summoning a healthy dose of wrathful indignation. "Are you saying that Veronica Liantro isn't qualified to pick her own students? That I can't pick where to share my genius - I could choose Pavarotti, but I can't choose you?" That last might be a bit over the top, but she'd always loved a good rant.
Elsie couldn't even manage a stutter. She tried several times, and then just shook her head. That much, Vero had anticipated. What she hadn't expected were the fascinated eyes.
"Good." Vero swirled back down to the piano stool, knowing even as she sat that it was not doubt that most haunted her student - it was desire. Well-covered, terrified desire. And that, she could most certainly work with. "Then let's try a song, shall we? Tell me the name of one of your favorites."
"I can't sing them!" Elsie practically squeaked. "I just like them. I didn't know I was supposed to pick ones I could sing."
Vero reached out a hand in comfort. "No one can sing at their first lesson, cara mia. But your choices will tell me something about your musical soul." She smiled. "I believe that's had more practice than your voice."
Elsie stared - and then finally pulled a piece of paper out of her bag. "I've been listening all day. These are my favorites so far."
Vero read the list. Interesting. Mostly soft, pretty things - emotive, but only in a small range. She wondered if Elsie was aware of the thread of safety running through all of the songs she'd picked. Then she noticed one at the bottom that had been scratched out. "What's this last one?"
Elsie flushed. "Lizard played a song for me this morning, and it was wonderful. But I wasn't paying enough attention to the name, and I can't figure out how to make my computer play it again."
And yet she'd tried to put it on the list. "We don't need a computer, love. You heard the song