The Singing Trees by Boo Walker
Chapter 12
A U-TURN
A few warm days in mid-March melted what was left of the snow from the blizzard a week earlier. Though that meant mud season was upon them, it also meant Annalisa could start painting outside again.
In preparation for another visit from Emma, she’d rolled out the giant sheet of paint-splattered canvas that she used to protect the brick floor of the front porch. While setting up a second chair to face the easel, she saw the yellow Beetle pulling up.
They exchanged waves as the siblings approached the porch. Setting eyes on Thomas in his Bruins sweatshirt, she thought that she was melting for him just like the last of the snow melted for spring. Forget for a moment the near cosmic physical attraction she felt. The thing getting her was his devotion to their relationship. Undeterred by his father’s warnings, Thomas had continued to see Annalisa and kept showing her in so many ways how much he loved her. Sure, his dropping the L-word and suggesting he move to Portland had scared her, but why? What was so bad about him following her? She had to admit that having a partner in crime to join her on her adventure did sound wonderful.
The other tug of her heartstrings was the genuine care he showed for other people, despite his troubles at home. Here he was sacrificing his day, even his time with Annalisa, so that his sister could continue to break out of her shell. You didn’t find men like that every day.
He jumped two steps at a time to steal a kiss from Annalisa. “Look at this,” he said, seeing her outdoor studio for the first time. “This is where it all goes down, huh?”
“Days like this, for sure,” she said, looking up to the sun, feeling its warmth on her skin. She hugged Emma at the top of the steps. “What a nice day to hang out. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” Emma responded, and Annalisa could tell she really meant it. In a way, they were each the sister the other never had. As if proving Emma’s newfound confidence, she said, “I’m gonna say hi to Nonna, let you two talk for a sec. Be right back.”
“Yeah, right on,” Thomas said, acting casual. Annalisa could tell by the lightness in his demeanor, though, that his sister’s uplifted spirit was a miracle to him.
Once Emma had closed the door behind her, Thomas took Annalisa’s hand. “She’s coming around, isn’t she?”
“Must be the weather,” Annalisa said, tracing a shape on his chest.
Thomas brushed her hair away and kissed her forehead. “I think it’s you. She really looks up to you, you know. And loves coming over here. You’ve awakened her.”
“I like having her here,” she said, thinking she didn’t deserve that much praise. “Who else do I have that will paint and make fun of sports with me?”
He shook his head at the dig.
“So . . .” Annalisa started, changing the subject, “I have something that’s kind of a big deal to ask you.”
He cocked his head. “Yeah?”
Pulling her hand away, she crossed her arms and stared into his eyes. “How would you feel about going with me to Sharon Maxwell’s art show in April?”
His eyes widened. “I never thought you would ask.”
Annalisa hadn’t been sure, either, but now she was. It wasn’t exactly like committing to moving in together, but it was a big step for her. She was letting him into her art world. Joking, she said, “Well, I do need a ride.”
“Ah,” he said, not taking offense. “And here I was thinking you were desperate to hear more of my art critiques.”
A laugh leaped out of her. “That too.” She kissed him, feeling the sun spraying down on them as if they were in the spotlight of love. “I’m really excited to go with you, seriously.”
Just then, Emma came back out to join them. “All right, Thomas,” she said. “Time to go. Girls only for a while.”
Thomas grinned as he looked to his sister, then to Annalisa and back. “So that’s how it is . . . I see. Just let me know if you girls want to talk hockey sometime. I can always hang around.”
Annalisa put her arm around Emma. “Bye-bye, Thomas.”
The two girls waved at him in sync.
Annalisa could feel how happy he was to see his sister in this way, and he met her eyes one last time before he drove away. Just then, a gust of wind came through and tickled the chimes, and Annalisa’s first thought was that she wished her mother could have met Thomas. She definitely would have approved.
As she let go of Emma, Annalisa noticed—and not for the first time—how hard it was for Emma to be apart from her brother, even for a couple of hours. The girl watched her brother’s car all the way until the Beetle disappeared. This nearly unhealthy connection—or maybe reliance was a better word?—was a big part of what had worried her when Thomas had suggested he follow Annalisa to Portland. Not that it was Annalisa’s business exactly, but Emma would not take it well. Gosh, at this point, Annalisa worried that Emma wouldn’t take it well when Annalisa left for Portland. What could she do now, though? Stop inviting her over?
“Ready to get started?” Annalisa asked. She reached for a tube of brown paint and squeezed a blob onto the palette. “I thought we’d practice trees today . . . what with the leaves finally coming back.”
“Have these always been here?” Emma asked, clearly not listening.
Annalisa turned to find her mesmerized by the wind chimes. The breeze was still tickling them, and the antique spoons danced around the silver bells. “My mother and I made those a long time ago.”
Emma was glued to them. “The sound is . . . so pretty. I love them.”
Annalisa took a moment to appreciate them, too, falling back through the years. “That’s my mother’s spirit you hear.”
The girl smiled. After listening for a little longer, she said, “I could sit back and close my eyes and listen to them all day.”
“That’s kind of what I do,” Annalisa admitted, going back to getting the paints ready. “My cousin sucked on a blanket—his coperta, he called it—until he was like five or six. That’s what the sound is for me, I guess. It puts me right back in my mother’s arms. She and I used to listen to them as we painted.”
“Imagine what it would be like if there were thousands of them together,” Emma pondered out loud. “I bet it would be magical.”
Annalisa stopped. She had never really thought about it and loved the idea. The vision came alive in her imagination.
“One day I’m going to do just that,” Emma said with a rare and strong determination. “One day I’m going to have an entire choir of them, like a big forest of singing trees, and I’m going to sit out there for hours and listen and let the world go.”
The idea nearly made Annalisa cry. She turned back to Emma, who’d closed her eyes to bask in the song. “What an amazing thought.”
Emma whispered, “I can hear them now.”
Annalisa could too. She put down the paints and approached her, taking her hand. “You’re such a beautiful person. And I think that artist inside of you is coming out, isn’t she?”
A smile played on Emma’s mouth.
She proved to be very talkative over the next two hours, seemingly more interested in chatting than in a painting lesson. That was fine, though.
While layering an imperfect circle with shades of brown, Emma whispered, “What’s wrong with Nonna today? She seems kind of sad. Or quiet.”
“Nothing to do with you, or Thomas,” Annalisa assured her. “My grandfather passed away six years ago tomorrow, so she’s struggling. She’s been wearing black for a week.”
Still working the brush around the circle, Emma said, “This is exactly why I’m never getting married. Who wants to go through that?”
“You sound like me,” Annalisa said.
“Seriously. All I need is my brother. He’s the only one who cares . . . and you, I guess.”
“Yes, me. And your mom,” Annalisa added, uncomfortable with the responsibility Emma had put on her.
“Yeah, I guess that’s true. Outside of them, though . . . there is only you. I don’t have any other friends.”
As Emma kept talking, Annalisa could vividly remember the agony of being so alone. She didn’t want that for Emma . . . but was she ready to let the girl count on her so completely?
The wind chimes rang louder in a strong gust of spring air that came rushing up the steps. Was Celia Mancuso up there listening to her thoughts? If so, was she urging her daughter to quit worrying so much?
When Thomas returned, he did as he always did and sat with Nonna as Emma and Annalisa finished up. To Annalisa’s surprise and delight, Nonna invited both of them to dinner, which felt like a positive vote for Thomas and Annalisa to stick together—even if it was oh so subtle.
Though Nonna rarely sat for a meal, she did take time to enjoy the company of Thomas and Emma over a giant dish of manicotti. Nonna even laughed when Emma and Annalisa lightly poked fun at Thomas for his love of hockey and his blue-picket-fence dreams. He took it all so well, and Annalisa wondered if Nonna was seeing how wonderful he truly was, a guy who was simply happy to be alive. What better person to have in your life?
When the siblings had gone, Annalisa helped Nonna clean the dishes.
“Nonna,” she said, covering the pasta dish with plastic. They’d eat the rest for days. “I think I’d like it if he came to Portland.”
Her grandmother gave a brief chuckle as she started on the dishes. “I never could have guessed.”
Annalisa put the dish in the fridge and then leaned against the counter to face her grandmother. “I know you think he’s a bad idea, but I’m falling in love, and I can’t imagine leaving him. Is this how you felt when you met Nonno?”
Nonna looked like she had a lot to say but conceded with, “It was a long time ago, but I’m sure.”
Annalisa reached for a rag to wipe the counters. They were a team that had cleaned this kitchen together nearly every day for two years. “I feel so torn,” she said, gathering crumbs into her hand, “like something isn’t letting me fall for him all the way, but I know he’s supposed to be in my life. I’m just afraid. What if we go to Portland together and it doesn’t work out? He would have given up everything for me. What if he gets in the way of my career? I can’t have that. And I can’t bear to think of how Emma would take the news.”
Nonna scrubbed a plate. “They are valid questions. And this is why I’ve been hesitant.”
“He’s a good man, though.”
Nonna acquiesced. “You could certainly do worse, but what will loving him cost you? And what will it cost him and Emma?”
“So you don’t think it’s a good idea?” She desperately wished Nonna would urge her on, to let go of her worries and chase this love coming alive in her heart.
Nonna set down a plate and stared out the window toward the sky. “I can’t know God’s plan, and I’m afraid this choice is up to you, nipotina.” She frowned and gave a quick shake of the head. “Yes, I worry—just as you do. But I won’t be the one who breaks you two apart or tells you that it’s a bad idea to let him follow you to Portland.”
Annalisa didn’t like her grandmother’s answer. “What would you do if you were in my shoes? Just end it and move on?”
Nonna resumed her chore, cleaning the next dish. Finally, she said, “No. This is a decision between you, your heart, and God. And this is a part of growing up. I can’t tell you what to do, but I will support your decision.”
Annalisa stopped. “You will?”
Nonna gave a firm nod. “Your parents and I have raised you to the best of our abilities, and I’m very proud of the woman you’re becoming. Whatever you decide will be the right decision.”
Annalisa set down her rag and hugged her grandmother from the side. “That means so much to me. Thank you.”
Nonna patted her back, but Annalisa could tell she wanted to get back to cleaning. Losing her granddaughter to Portland would not be easy.
But that wasn’t enough reason to stay, Annalisa knew. Either choice would have consequences. As she closed her eyes to find the quiet inside, she knew there was no decision to be made at all. Her love for Thomas was stronger than any feeling she’d ever known, and she’d hate herself forever if she didn’t fully leap into his arms.
If he was willing to risk it all, then she was too.