Chapter 56

“Damn.”

“Fuck is more like it.”

It never ceased to amaze me just how colorful my mother’s language could be. Dad had been a Marine and had educated us all in the nuances of swearing over the years. Mom never objected. She loved it, the kooky old woman. To look at her, all five-feet-two inches and delicate skin and features, you wouldn’tthink she’d say boo to a goose. More than likely, the goose would run away from her. Her air of frailty was her secret weapon.

“Why don’t you go on stage and check out the piano? I’ll find a program from the show, and we’ll huddle.”

“Sure.” I bounded up the wooden steps to the platform.

The piano was a Baldwin and in very good condition. I sat on the bench, opened the lid, and played middleC, and a few other notes. I had perfect pitch, and I could tell the piano was in tune. At least that was one less thing to worry about.