Catch

I look down at the doorbell app on my phone to see the live stream of Maren standing on my stoop.

She’s wearing a white dress that stops just below her knee. It’s buttoned up the front with a lace collar.

She’s clutching a bunch of fresh flowers in her hand. The stems are tied together with a pink ribbon.

I didn’t think to give Stevie flowers tonight. I’m glad Maren did.

I want this night to be perfect for both my niece and Maren.

Stevie comes skipping towards me, wearing flat white shoes. “I heard the doorbell. Are you going to open the door, Keats?”

Glancing over to where my brother is standing, I wink. “It seems that our special guest has arrived.”

“It’s Maren.” Stevie jumps up and down in place. “She’s our audience.”

“What am I?” Berk shoves his hands into the front pockets of his black pants.

“The best daddy ever.” Stevie blows him a kiss.

He does the same in return before he looks at me. “Get the door, Keats.”

I do.

I walk across the floor and swing open the door.

A quiet sound escapes Maren as she takes me in. I slicked my hair back tonight, put on my best cologne, and tied my bowtie perfectly.

“You look great,” she says quietly.

I smile. “You look better than great.”

She fists the skirt of her dress. “The ticket said to wear a fancy dress, so I did.”

“You sure did.” Stevie peeks around me. “You look beautiful.”

Maren takes a step forward, holding out the pink and white flowers in her hand. “You look like a princess. I brought you these.”

“For me?” Stevie’s voice quakes. “Really?”

Berk steps in place beside her. He strokes his hand over her hair. “That was very kind of you, Maren. Thank you.”

“Yes.” Stevie’s head bounces up and down. “Thank you.”

Maren sucks in a deep breath. “You’re welcome.”

“Come and sit.” Stevie grabs hold of Maren’s hand and yanks her forward. “I set up two chairs by the piano. One for daddy and one for you.”

Maren glances back as she’s pulled toward the living room.

“You’re falling hard, Keats.” Berk chuckles.

I don’t argue. How the hell can I argue with the truth? I look at him. “She’s different, Berk.”

“I see it.” He nods. “Stevie does too.”

I turn to face him. “Maren is scared.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, but I sense it.”

“If you like her, it’s your job to find out why and then chase those fears away.”

I can do that. I’ve chased my own fears away since I met Maren. Tonight, I start showing her that there’s nothing for her to be afraid of when it comes to me.***Maren and Berk jump to their feet at the same time for a standing ovation.

Stevie beams in the adoration. She should. She hit every note on the mark. I’ve never heard Mary Had a Little Lamb played at that slow of a tempo, but dammit, it doesn’t matter.

My star, and only, pupil made me proud.

“I did good?” She glances up at me. “Did I do it right?”

I pat the top of her head. “I couldn’t have played it better myself.”

Her smile tells me that she knows that’s a fib. I’ve been playing the piano since second grade. I was forced to at first. Berk was too, but he switched over to the guitar.

Since Sinclair doesn’t have a musical bone in her body, my parents insisted I stick with the piano. They didn’t want their investment to go to waste.

It hasn’t.

I kept up with the lessons, and when I bought this townhouse, my parents had the piano moved here as a housewarming gift.

Their granddaughter just belted out a tune tonight during her first private recital. I only wish they could have been here to see it.

My folks were bit by the same travel bug as my sister. They are currently RVing their way across the southern states.

By the time they drive back into Manhattan, they will have visited at least one city in every state.

Stevie yawns. “That was exhausting.”

Berk, Maren, and I laugh in unison.

“It’s time to go home to bed.” Berk points at the flowers Maren brought. I put them in a vase I found in a kitchen cupboard before the recital started. “I’ll carry that home if you carry Budley.”

Stevie turns to me. “You’re the best teacher.”

“You make it easy. Do you know why?”

“Because I’m the best student?” She grins.

I drop to one knee to gather her into my arms. “You’re the best student and the best niece anyone could have.”

“Will we start on a new song tomorrow?” she asks as she messes up my hair with her fingers.

“I can’t promise it will be tomorrow.” I kiss her forehead lightly. “But it will be soon.”Chapter 43MarenI watch as Keats closes the door behind his brother and his niece.

Moments like this make me wish I had a sibling. I’ve often wondered if the bond between siblings is as strong as I imagine it to be. I’m close to Arietta and Bianca, but we didn’t grow up together. We don’t have the shared history that Keats has with his siblings.