Death and Tea at Three

28 Harold and the Perfect Gift

Every nook and cranny of the house was filled with purpose and memories. Julia loved every bit of it. Oftentimes, she would catch herself just staring at the large wooden clock that hung from the living room wall. She would watch as the hands of the clock ticked around its large beige face, marvelling at the simplicity of time – how every second led to the next, and just as quickly as time came, it passed.

Julia would often sit under the large windowsill adjacent to the living room. There, she had set up what she called an art-reading centre. She would sit with her arts and crafts, or with her newest book, her windowsill being pelted with rain or the rays of the morning sun, as she admired the beauty of this world, her home, and the one she loved.

There was, however, something missing in this world of theirs. Julia recognized it first, and although Harold never mentioned it, she was sure he knew what it was. The painful thing was that Julia knew they could not afford it. As Harold would say, 'some things are the way they are'.

Julia did not abide by this mantra.

Julia had a plan. Plans were her specialty. And once said plans were in motion, there was no changing her mind. This was something that Harold both admired and found frustrating – especially when they argued.

It took two years for Julia to execute her plan. She put away a small portion of every paycheque – not so large that Harold would notice, but enough to make her feel as if she was making progress toward her goal. At first, it felt wrong, like a CEO embezzling from her company, but the closer she got to her goal, the more that feeling subsided.

It was a Thursday afternoon when the plan came to fruition. Harold had just come home from work, and he was surprised to see the door ajar. At first thought, he assumed someone had broken in. He walked up to the door quietly to avoid alerting any possible intruders. With his hand balled into a fist, he crept up to the door. As he gently pushed the door, it swung open abruptly. There stood Julia – smiling so large that Harold could swear he could count every one of her teeth.

Harold stood in the doorway, his briefcase in one hand, his hand still balled up in a fist. Julia jumped into his arms. His stiff stance relaxed as he began to melt in her arms – she always knew how to make him relax.

"What's going on?" Harold asked. "You left the door open, ya know? You have to be careful. Anyone could have walked in. I know we live in a safe neighbourhood, but..." Before Harold could finish, Julia pulled him into the house. Her hands wrapped around Harold's, she didn't say a word. She simply led him to where he needed to be.

It didn't take Harold long to realize what she wanted him to see. After all, their home wasn't very large, and what Julia's surprise took up most of the remaining space in the living room.

With its mahogany finish, it stood pushed against the far wall. In that moment, Harold felt a multitude of feelings. On one hand, he was overwhelmed to see a piano in his home. He had never owned his own piano before, as he practiced on keyboards or used the piano at the school. On the other hand, he felt concerned.

"How much did this cost? It doesn't matter, we can't afford it. How did you afford it? We're broke, aren't we? I don't deserve this..."

Before he could finish, Julia placed her index finger against his lips, and leaned her body against his. As she looked up at him with her doe-like eyes, she replied, "Don't worry, we'll be fine."

Harold didn't say another word, nor did he even think about protesting again. He held Julia in his arms, her head pressed against his chest. His breathing had become heavy and quick, and he watched as her face rose and fell with his breathing.

Julia lifted her head and took a step back. "Go on and play," she said, as she nodded toward the piano.

Harold glanced at the piano. Although it was so close, it felt surreal - as if it was a mirage, teasing him. As he glanced back down at Julia, he couldn't help but smile. How he became lucky enough to have her, he wouldn't ever know.

Harold hesitantly walked to the piano and sat on the accompanying bench. As his hands hovered over the keys, he felt them tremble. He couldn't wait to play, but at the same time, he wanted to savour this moment. To him, this was a picture-perfect moment that no camera could ever capture.

Harold stared at his hands. With these hands, he was about to create music from his piano for the first time. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and willed his body and mind to play. And so, he did.

And he would continue to play for the rest of Julia's life.