Tapping

Chapter One

It's been a year according to the lawyer, since the nanny the Heelshire's left their home to ditched. It was inconsiderate to have just disappear with the grocery deliverer, but almost romantic. I was contacted, as Mrs. Heelshire's next choice had the nanny not followed the instructions or abandoned her position. I remembered Mrs. Heelshire and her husband very fondly. They were quite enraptured with my dancing, coming to see me in nearly all of my shows regardless of my importance in the cast. The truth was that it was always blind dumb luck that got I those roles. It was never my dream or intention to be in front of the stage. Creating and finding props was my dream, I just happened to be an amazing tap dancer. It was and is my only mastered skill set.  It was beat into my body early by my, date I call him, father...quite literally. One wrong click, and an incorrect arm placement would earn me a lash on my young back. Never the legs though, he needed those working. "Y/N, I hurt you so you learn. This is your dream so work for it."

As I stated multiple times, it was never my dream, he only wished to recreate my mother but couldn't stand to see himself in me. Puberty was the hardest for me, he constantly altered my ever-changing appearance, putting me on strict diets that couldn't keep a mouse alive. At 11 A.M. while cinching the corset to shrink my naturally thick waist, he would feed me barely a cup of porridge and two egg whites, if he saw progress (He rarely considered anything I did progress.) Home schooled by an astrophysicist for 1.5 hours a subject, I  didn't meet kids very often, only at dance classes or on my runs at the park. I never was well liked at the Dance Academy, any money my mother left went into my father's obsession and I was never shown an ounce of interest.

It was my instructor that always made me feel loved. Mr. Menolski brought me really good food and cool clothes to wear at the studio. I began to consider him like father more than that sperm donor. He taught me all that he knew so that I could justify spending 12 hours a day with him in the studio. He made dance fun for me but he also showed me more than being on stage. He'd take me to pick out props for recitals and then we'd go to lunch. I was there whenever I could risk it.

When I started gaining weight, my father became suspicious, forcing ne to learn more and more of my mother's complex professional routines. The  trade off was that this meant spending more time with Menolski. I trusted him, I talked to him. Told him at times that my body hurts or that I was hungry or sick. Eventually, Menolski had the evidence to report my father, and  after four or five foster homes, he became my guardian. I am grateful that Mr. Menolski, when no other adult had listened to my pleas for help, had been there, had listened.

A honk drove me out of my invasive thoughts as I stood outside the noisy airport.
"Miss Menolski?"
I politely smiled at hearing the last name, Leon made it official on my 17th birthday. I happily gave up college dorm life to spend a few extra years with my new father. Or fathers, I thought happily, Leon admitted it was his partner who had made the better meals for me during one of our visits.
"Yes, that's me. Will the trip be long?" I asked, apparently my accent grabbed the driver's attention.
" Oh, are you from (hometown)? My apologies, it should be about 3 hours drive." I nodded softly acknowledging the driver's words. He seemed sweet, a bit shy but overall a good vibe. It was very encouraging to me, I probably would enjoy this drive.
"Yes, I am. Have you been?"
"Only to visit, ma'am. My name is Freddric, I'm to be your driver."
He closed my side door after helping me in before circling the car to the drivers side.

The drive wasn't irritating or awkward, I felt at ease about it. The driver, Freddric, was good at social cues, knowing when to let the silence flow and speaking when needed. I learned he has a wife from Ireland and that they've been trying to have a baby. Of course, I told him about being adopted and how that's an option if they decided to go a different route to starting a family. Before I could really lose myself in it, time flew by with ease and I exchanged Instagrams with him. He seemed like a wonderful man who'd be a good father.

"Miss Y/N, we are here." Freddric carried my admittingly pathetic bags all the way to the door. "Thank you, Freddric." I smiled genuinely as I shook his hand. "This is where we part ways, ma'am, I enjoyed driving you. And thank you for the option ideas." He waved and I watched him walk to the car and drive off.

I turned to the manor, wide eyes and an open mouth greeting the sight before me. It was gorgeous and well kept. The lawyer had said the everything was kept on and running, the Heelshire's set aside a ton of money for everything to continue running and groceries were delivered every week. Some how, when speaking to the grocery company, everytime a delivery is made the food the week before is gone. I'd assumed that maybe there was someone who cleaned up and they removed the bad food. I entered the house and was captivated but the look, the smells, and the warmth. Everything here was riddled with age and history, covered in stories. Immaculate in every way I spun with a child like glee. I turned towards the staircase ready to explore this newfound wonderland.

I went up the stairs with gusto and immediately felt drawn to a white door with neat cursive writing on it. Upon opening it, my eyes were met with a little boy's room. The bed was a soft thick king size mattress, dressed with a rich blue linen that could only be the highest thread count. The only thing breaking the color scheme were tiny white stars scattered like the night sky. The walls were that rich blue as well, vertical stripes of a lighter blue complimenting it. I smiled softly, I'd heard about the son once or twice, tragic but to keep updating his room as if he were growing is a sweet gesture to do. Almost as heartbreaking as it is to imagine what he'd enjoy. As if on cue, my eyes fell to the white and blue rocking chair where Brahms the doll sat. I picked Brahms up without hesitation and smiled sadly noticing the cracks and breaks in his face. "I'm sorry she treated you like this Brahms. Know that I was once like you, treated like an object and a goal. We are better than that right?" It was seconds before I heard a small tap and turned around casually. Could..Brahms be..a...no No way. I made my way to the room next door, carrying the doll with me, claiming it as my own. It was beautiful in itself. The walls were the lightest possible peach shade creating a warm tone to the room. The bed was huge and luxurious, silk sheets lining the mattress and a thin white canopy tied up and away. A peach vanity with a mirror and lights stood to my left and a vintage wardrobe to my right.

I spent some time unpacking my few clothes after going over the rules left for me.  I was quite grateful for the lawyer's thought of printing them for me. They were very straightforward and they revolved around taking care of the house and Brahms.

I took my sweet time showering off the grime of travelling and nourishing my body through hydration, savoring the experience of an expensive showerhead. I checked the schedule then gave Brahms a small bath, wiping all the dust and dirt off. "All clean, bubby. Shall we have dinner and watch something?" I dress Brahms well enough before making my way to the kitchen. A crashing sound echoes from the other side of the door. I hesitated a bit before going in, I don't think anyone would rob this place while I'm here. "Excuse me? But if anyone is squatting in this house, please either show yourself or leave immediately." The entrance to the kitchen from the staircase was open, anyone in there could hear me but couldn't see me. Deciding it was safe to continue, I entered the kitchen without further issue.

The moment I turned to the counter to see a recipe for vegetarian lasgana open, I recognize what made the sound. It seemed a cookbook just fell and opened to a random page. I kind of felt silly getting scared but one can never be too safe. "Hm, sure why not? Veggie lasagna, huh?" Following the recipe seemed a breeze, the kitchen was fully stock and held every cooking appliance need to open a five-star restaurant. It didn't take very much energy or time.  After taking the dish out of the oven, I let it cool on the stove top. I spent the remaining time to set up my laptop and searching for a good movie. I thought a classic would be Brahms speed so I went for Casablanca.

I set Brahms the doll on a chair in my room and set a plate beside him. My movie night with the porcelain boy was oddly comforting. I quoted lines at him, half expecting him to quote with me. Eventually I picked him up to cuddle during the climax escape scene.  I don't remember falling asleep in my bed with Brahms in my arms, but I vaguely recall giving him a goodnight kiss. It seemed like a fresh start here, one where I was in charge of my fate. Was it selfish? Maybe but Brahms and I were going to be fine together.

A/N: I absolutely need encouragement for this story. I wasn't happy with it in the first place but apparently people just lost their damn minds over it. I need feed back or its the bin for this story 😂🤣😭😭😭