Philidosia

Un, Deux, Trois

Eliza's fingers dance across the piano keys as she and Philip sing, "Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf." Eliza pauses her playing and nods approvingly at her son."Good." Philip looks up to his mom proudly and smiles toothily. Eliza laughs at the gap where his two front teeth should be, and ruffles his curly black hair. She places her hands back onto the keys. She once again begins playing the French piece. Philip starts singing in a small voice, and then Eliza joins in. "Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf," they sing together. She lifts her hands from the piano.

"Your turn," Eliza murmurs softly into Philip's ear. They switch spots, Eliza standing gracefully beside the bench where Philip sits. He begins striking the keys clunkily. The melody is noisy, but overall correct. Philip looks up at Eliza expectantly, waiting for her to praise his good work. She nods, and begins singing. Philip accompanies his mother, playing sharply and somewhat off rhythm. A couple of wrong notes ring around the room. Philip smiles shyly, embarrassed, then pulls his hands away from the piano.

Eliza stands behind Philip, and leans forward to gently place her hands over his. He looks up at Eliza, and for a second they both smile lovingly at each other. An undefinable moment passes between the two, and Eliza realizes how lucky she is to be alive right now. She has everything that she could ever want.

Philip's mother guides his hands over the keys, but his fingers have a mind of their own. They play a new melody, jumpier and happier than the minor song his mother had taught him previously. Her eyebrows raise, but allows Philip to continue. After he finishes, he looks up at his mother and smiles goofily. Eliza shakes her head, but laughs.

"Alright, Phil," she says, "Now we're going to sing a round. Remember how that works?" Philip nods in anticipation. "I'll play the piano, but you can start," Eliza adds as the two quickly swap places again. Philip takes a deep breath, and sings," Un, deux, trois."

Eliza started after in a beautiful, powerful voice, drowning out her son. Philip begins to sing louder, and the two belt out a wonderful song. Half way through a note, they are interrupted.

"Be quiet, you two! I'm trying to work here!" A loud yowl from down the hallway interrupts their piano playing. "Could you please stop your racket? It's terrible and hurts my ears." Alexander yells impatiently. Eliza pauses hesitantly, and tears start dripping from sensitive Philip's eyes. She reaches up with her thumb, and slowly wipes them away. Eliza looks down the hall where Alexander's office is located and sighs heavily. Philip buries his head in Eliza's silk gown, and she pats his back gently. She stands up and makes her way down the hall. Philip can hear low murmurs coming from Alexander's office. Finally, the murmurs cease, and Eliza comes out with a slightly annoyed look on her face. Philip sits down on the piano bench expectantly, but Eliza shakes her head. "Philip, I have to make supper," she says.

"Can't we play a bit longer? I want to show you this song I made up," Philip pleads.

Eliza shakes her head slightly and starts towards the kitchen. She turns her head and says over her shoulder as she walks, "Your father wants me to get supper ready. He is very hungry and has been working very hard in his study. I think he deserves a good meal tonight. You do understand, don't you, dear?"

Philip pouts and stares at the floor bitterly. "I don't like Daddy anymore. That's not fair for me."

Eliza turns abruptly and her face turns red. "Don't you say that!" Both Philip and Eliza are surprised at this anger coming from the usually calm and sweet mother. But Eliza is both mad at her husband and son, and something seems to take control of her. She snaps at Philip again. "Your father is a hard-working man and he loves you very much. He is putting food on the table by doing his job. He can't take a break until he gets his plan through Congress."

"Mommy..." Philip whines, but closes his mouth at Eliza's disapproving look. The seemingly angry spell has fanished, and her brown eyes glitter with love and joy again. Philip's scowl turns to a shy smile as his mother bops him on the nose playfully. "Also, aren't you hungry?" 

"I guess," Philip shrugs. Eliza sighs, and pats her son's shoulder. Philip turns back toward the keys passively, and begins plunking away as Eliza steps into the kitchen, her dress swishing across the shiny wooden floor of the music room. "I hate Daddy's job," Philip mutters to himself as he strikes a few keys at random. He plays a chord with his left hand, and adds a matching note with his right. Nodding approvingly to himself, he moves his hands and his fingers press down on three keys to create another chord. I sound pretty good, he thinks to himself. He plays a D minor chord, and it instantly reminds him of a song he knew with all his heart like the back of his hand. Philip's fingers play from memory a song Theodosia taught him, a sad song Theo had never named but said she had heard played in a dream of hers. Philip instantly stops playing and stares into space, a smile curling the corners of his lips. Theodosia. Saying her name brings back so many happy memories. Suddenly, Philip pushes the piano bench back and slips off. He races to the kitchen, tripping over his own feet. Peeping his head through the door carefully, he sees Eliza is stirring something in a large metal pot with a wooden spoon. The scent of carrots, beef, and wheat bread make his mouth water. I guess I am hungry, he thinks absent-mindedly. Philip steps slowly into the room "Mama?" he whispers, not wanting to startle her. 

Eliza turns her head with a smile. "Yes, Phil? I see you are done practicing on the piano."

"Well, I was just wondering," Philip says nervously, wringing his hands, "if Theo can come over today so we can play."

Eliza laughs, the sound echoing through the kitchen like Christmas bells. "You mean Aaron's daughter? Theodosia Burr?"

"The only Theodosia we know, Mother," Philip says sharply. Eliza ignores his impatience, and turns back to her cooking. 

"I guess she could come over, if she desired to," Eliza drawls, stalling the conversation. Philip can tell she is playfully poking fun at him, and he doesn't like it. "You would have to ask your father," Eliza says as an after thought.

"But I don't want to!" Philip explains, crossing his arms like a little boy. He narrows his eyes. "I'm mad at Father, and I'm too embarrassed to go talk to him right now."

Eliza speaks a little harshly. "You're ten years old, Philip. Get over it. If you want to play with Theo, you'll need Alex's permission. Go along now, Phil. I need to finish cooking." She blows him a kiss, then shoos him away with her hands. "Good playing, by the way.

"Thank you," Philip grumbles, and starts down the hallway to Alexander's office.