Chapter 12: Living room

Randall’s living room. Late at night. Soft light shone in from the moon, a little more from the street lights on Dushane. The tank seemed to float above its black base. Claire was sitting at the bench of the baby grand piano, listening to music on headphones. Finally, she took the headphones off and began to play.

The first notes of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata,” the famous first movement, filled the living room. Claire continued playing. After a minute or so, Randall came downstairs wearing a pair of sweatpants and nothing else. He lay down on the couch and listened until she was done.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “I was still up. Reading.”

She began playing again. Something he didn’t recognize. “That’s pretty,” he said.

“Thanks,” she replied. “It’s something I’m working on.”

“Neat.”

He listened for a bit and then asked, “Do you miss your job much?”

She shook her head. “No. It wasn’t important.”

He waited a minute and then said. “I’m sorry. About… You know. Not understanding. At first.”

Her hands never faltered. But her head bowed slightly. “I understand, Randall. It takes time.”

“And you know why we had to… you know… restrict your access to just the…”

She stopped playing and turned to face him.

“I did what I had to do to get you back. To get me back. I’d do it again.” She wasn’t angry. Just very determined.

He nodded. And smiled a little. “I know.”

Claire turned back to the piano.

She kept playing for almost an hour. By the time she was finished, Randall was asleep on the couch. She turned her tiny, doll-house-sized love seat around so that it was facing the wall of the glass box nearest him and curled up on it. So that she could watch him. After awhile, she closed her eyes, too.