Page 117 of Our Own Light

“I’m not really in the mood for a beating.”

Floyd pouted. “Why won’t no one play with me?”

“Let’s play something we’re equally talented at instead. Or, well, not equally talented, exactly, but something trickier for us to compare ourselves to each other.” Ollie held out his hand to help Floyd up. “Music?”

Floyd took Ollie’s hand. “I’d like that.”

While Floyd tuned his banjo, Ollie set himself up at the piano. Josephine walked back and forth between them.

Effie asked her, “Which one do you want to learn first?”

“I can’t choose.”

Floyd had a feeling that Jo wanted to learn piano. Sometimes, he’d catch her sitting at the bench when she thought no one was looking, pressing on the keys real lightly, probably hoping that no one would hear her. He couldn’t hardly blame her for wanting to learn piano. It was a real impressive-looking instrument, and Ollie played it so well. It was likely that Jo was afeared of hurting someone’s feelings if she chose, especially if she chose Ollie. Jo had been choosing Ollie more and more often.

Many nights, she’d request for Mister Oliver to read her a bedtime story. Sometimes she’d pick him to play checkers with, too. Not only was Jo choosing Ollie a lot, but Effie had been spending a bunch of time with Ollie, too. Ollie had been teaching her a little piano here and there, and the two of them still really liked to play chess.

But Floyd wasn’t bothered by none of this. It made him happy to see them take to Ollie so much. After the lonely life Ollie’d had, he needed to be chosen first sometimes. Or maybe a lot of times.

“Jo, you can sit with Ollie tonight,” Floyd said, nodding over to him. “It’s easier to share a piano than a banjo.”

Jo smiled. “I can?!”

“Yup.”

She ran over to the bench, but paused, and then whirled to hurry back over to Floyd. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. He squeezed her back.

“Go on,” he said, releasing her.

For the whole next hour, Floyd and Ollie played songs together. Or sometimes Floyd and Ollie and Jo, with Jo being responsible for hitting a couple of notes here and there, while Effie put her feet up and relaxed on the couch. Sometimes, Ollie looked over his shoulder and threw Floyd a wink, which was real sweet, and one time, Jo noticed and copied, which was even sweeter, though it seemed like Jo was trying to tease them.

Eventually, it was time for Jo to be tucked in, and this time, she asked Effie to read to her. Floyd and Ollie had to stop playing so they wouldn’t keep her awake, but luckily, they had set up the new phonograph in the back room, on the opposite end of the house from Jo’s bedroom, and if they closed the door, they could play some music without bothering no one.

After Ollie wound up the phonograph, which was a newer portable type that looked more like a wooden suitcase than a listening device, he came over to Floyd and took his hand.

“Come on,” Ollie said. “Dance with me.”

“Can’t we cuddle up on the loveseat instead?”

“Nope,” Ollie said, placing a hand on Floyd’s shoulder.

At first, the two of them tried a Foxtrot, but Floyd still had some trouble not crushing Ollie’s feet, and so, they eventually started swaying instead, resting their heads together and moving more slowly than the song called for.

“Feels more like we’re trying to rock ourselves to sleep,” Floyd teased.

“I like it,” Ollie said, with a wistful kind of tenderness in his voice that made Floyd’s heart melt a little.

Floyd hummed and said, “Yeah, it ain’t bad, I suppose.”

After a moment, Ollie said, “I’m so happy, sweetheart.”

“Me, too.”

Soon enough, Ollie was yawning.

“I think you were right about us rocking ourselves to sleep.”

“Early morning tomorrow. We ought to head up soon.”