She still loved London of course, and they took the children there often, staying in the beautiful house they’d bought in Putney. But she no longer felt the yearning, the desperation to get away from New York. Even though they lived in Connecticut now, she often traveled into Manhattan for meetings or to do some shopping.
“Mom, Mom, look who’s here!” Lily came running out of the trees again, pointing her finger in the direction of the car park. “It’s Uncle Shake!”
“Lily Larsen!” Hanna scolded. “I’ve told you not to call him that.”
With his strange tics, and inability to keep his hands still, the children chose the nickname for Daniel Maxwell. It didn’t make Hanna happy about it, though.
“He said he likes it,” Lily retorted, her red hair flying everywhere as she changed direction and ran toward her uncle, throwing herself into his unsteady arms.
Daniel put his arm around Lily and they walked toward Hanna, a grin splitting his face as she hugged them both.
“We missed you.” Since they bought their house in Connecticut in 2013, Daniel had been a regular visitor, staying for months at a time, living in the small cottage set back in the grounds so he could have some privacy. She’d grown used to having him around, and when he went away—which he did at least four or five times a year—she hated to see the empty cottage where he used to be. He was still a wanderer at heart, and she suspected that the specter of his addictions hadn’t quite been conquered. But he was still a dear part of their family and loved by them all.
“I missed you, too.” He squeezed her waist. “Any news from Richard?”
“He should be here soon,” she replied. “His plane was due to land by three. Matty’s beside himself with worry.”
“Is he ready for his big day?” Daniel asked, his eyebrows knitting into a frown. Matty had been playing the drums since he was six years old, and Tom had offered for him to be the drummer for Fatal Limits’ opening number. His nerves had been growing by the day.
“He’s scared to bits,” Hanna confessed. “If Richard isn’t here soon, I don’t know what he’ll do.”
“I’ll go talk to him.” Danny was already walking across the grass, his right leg dragging as he strode. He cut a strange figure; looking like a young boy even though he was nearly forty. She was thankful he was here, along with Tom, to lend Matty some support.
Checking her watch, she decided to join them at the stage. She was ready to start the sound check, needing to know everything was going to plan. Backstage was a hive of activity as everybody tried to ensure that all the last minute preparations were complete. From the electricity, to the sound, to the lighting, everything had been planned to go off without a hitch.
“Hanna,” Tom whispered, wrapping his hand around her upper arm. “Can we have a quick chat?”
She looked down at her clothes. She had about half an hour to get showered and changed into the dress she had hanging up in the office. The ratty cut-off shorts and band t-shirt she was wearing really weren’t suitable for greeting donors.
“Sure.” She allowed herself to be dragged to the side of the stage.
“Matty’s refusing to play. He’s suffering from a severe case of stage fright.” Tom’s face was colored with sympathy.
Hanna felt her heart clench. She knew how important today was for her boy, how excited he’d been to play alongside his hero. To know the jitters were stopping him from fulfilling his dream broke her heart.
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“I’ll speak with him.”
Tom brushed his hand across her cheek. They both shared the privilege of being married to Larsens, and their familiar friendship had been maintained over the years. He and Ruby were named in her will as guardians for her children should something happen to Richard and her.
Hanna found Matty sitting under a maple tree, his arms wrapped around his knees as he rocked in time to a silent beat. She guessed he was hearing music in his head; he was constantly singing or tapping out rhythms. Even at the age of ten, music was his life.
He was like his mom in that respect.
She flopped down beside him, mirroring his posture. He glanced at her, his eyes bright with tears.
“Hey baby.” She nudged her elbow against him. She didn’t want to ask him what was wrong. She knew from experience it was best to let him volunteer.
Matty grunted and dipped his head between his knees. His rocking continued, and she reached out a hand and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, wriggling on the ground until they were closer.
They sat silently, and she closed her eyes, wishing she could absorb all his fears and take them away from him. She hated this part of being a parent; watching her child go through pain and fear and not being able to make it disappear.
“I don’t want to play.” His voice was low when he finally spoke.
“You don’t?” She asked.
“I’m scared.” He said it like he’d committed a crime.