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nonsensicalobsessions · 5 years

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A Symphony without Strings, Chapter 6

Today’s musical program will be varied once more. So much music will be going on! I do not know how many of you are participating in the musical adventure, and which service you are using, YouTube or Spotify. Since several of the pieces I wish to use are only available on YouTube, I will use that platform exclusively this chapter. If anyone has an objection, please let me know...but there is only one chapter following this one, Symphony ticket holders, and then the coda...Like the previous chapter, I will insert the selection at the appropriate scene, and you can simply loop it until the next piece is indicated. I hope you enjoy today’s musical arrangement.

Trigger warning: Leukemia

First selection: https://youtu.be/UfWT_7dTAtI

*** *** *** ***

Kelly did not hesitate to begin. Merry was hooked up to a machine within hours to begin having her blood drawn, her T cells filtered out, and have the remaining blood returned. The process did not take long, simply a few hours. Once completed, Kelly leaned against Merry’s bed and cocked her head to the side.

“Well now darlin’, before we infuse you with the new an’ improved T cells, we’re gonna hit you with another blast of chemo, to clean out as much garbage out of your veins as we can.”

Merry did not look happy at the thought of another round of chemo, but she didn’t argue, just nodded her head as she stared out the window. Kelly leaned towards and took her hand.

“Honey, you’re gonna have to be here for a couple of weeks. I know it’s gonna be rough, and no one can get in your skin and take it for you, but I am going to work overtime to make it as easy as I can...and you have people who love you and will support you as much as you will let them. The question is, are you going to let them? I seem to have heard you giving Aiden a lot of push back in the past.”

“Aiden had Liam. Liam was all that mattered,” Merry replied, a touch of defiance in her voice.

“Maybe so, but now Tom has Merry, so now Merry is all that matters,” Tom responded, his voice gentle, but with the same touch of firmness he used with Liam. Merry’s eyes shot towards him, her expression challenging.

Tom leaned forward so their foreheads were touching. “Hello, Missouri Mule. Meet Tom Hiddleston, bane of Luke Windsor’s patience and scourge of his peace of mind.”

Merry smiled. She couldn’t resist.

Liam was unhappy to hear Mama was going to be in the hospital for almost a month at least, probably longer. He knew she would try to video call him frequently, but he also knew there would be a lot of days she would be so sick and sleepy she would barely be able to speak with him. When he stopped to think about this, his tummy felt funny, it hurt a lot and he felt like he might throw up and cry all at the same time. Both Mama and Aiden were always telling him to talk about how he felt, but it didn’t make the feelings go away.

When Papa came home without Mama, he looked tired, sad, and worried. Supper was quiet, and everyone went to bed early. Aiden read him his story, but his voices weren’t as fun as they usually were. Liam understood.

“Hey, kiddo.” Liam looked up into Aiden’s eyes. He had been looking down at his two bears, one Mama had given him, and one Papa had. “Your Mama has done this a lot, she’s a virtuosa, you could say. You shouldn’t worry about her. She’s more worried about you, did you know that?”

Liam squinted up at Aiden. “Why’s Mama worryin’ about me? You’re taking care of me like you always do, and we’re gonna do the same things we always do. We’re going to be ok...but I’m gonna miss Mama...” and his bottom lip started to tremble as his voice wobbled.

Aiden gathered him into a hug. “And it’s that, right there, that has your Mama worrying. She loves you so much, she hates to think of you being sad. She wants you to be happy, always.”

Liam pulled away, his usually cheerful countenance marred with a scowl. “Can’t be happy without Mama here, how can I be happy when Mama’s stuck in that ol’ hospital and she can’t be home with us? Stupid medicine! Stupid leuk...leuk...I hate Mama being sick all the time, I want her to get better!”

Liam burst into tears borne of grief, anger, frustration, and fear.

Aiden breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted Liam to cry it out. So much had happened, and Liam was just a little boy...he heard Tom’s door opening with a crash, and his feet, oh dear...

If Merry was a virtuosa in this wretched treatment, Tom had barely had his first few lessons.

As soon as Tom came in the door, Aiden made a calming gesture with his hand. “Softly, softly,” he mouthed, as he continued to gently soothe Liam’s impassioned sobbing.

Tom had been lying in bed, his arm flung over his eyes, remembering his conversation with Merry before he left:

“Tom, it’s going to be hard, in fact I will go so far as to say it’s going to suck. But I’ve played this concerto before, I daresay I’ve even conducted this orchestra before. I’ve got this. I have my bag of tricks, I know how to get around the worst of it. Please, please, be there for Liam. Knowing he’s well and happy will do so much for me...”

He reached out and stroked her face. “Merry, do you mean to forbid me to see you? Are you planning on going through this alone? Tell me, sweetheart, who was with you all the other times? It wasn’t Aiden, it couldn’t have been. It wasn’t your family. No one has mentioned any other friends. Did you go through chemotherapy alone, each and every time...? Merry...”

She looked at him, smiled and shrugged. “Alone, not alone...there were always nurses, and I could always close my eyes, and escape into my head, I have my headphones, my music, my imagination...come, Tom, you know how easily I can slip into my head, and how difficult it is for me to get out of it sometimes! I would practice, even if I didn’t have an instrument, I could conduct, even if I was completely alone, I could compose, even if I never remembered note from note.”

“Not this time, Meredith,” he vowed. “I will be there for Liam, but I will be there for you as well. I will talk with Aiden, and see what he advises, so you can’t fret, Mama Bear.”

She was already falling asleep, but she grinned. “We’ll see, Papa Bear, we’ll see...”

When Tom heard Liam’s crying, it was if he had been jolted with a live current. He’d never heard Liam cry before, and the boy sounded heartbroken. Tom launched from his bed, completely forgetting Aiden was two steps away, and had been with Liam since the little boy drew his first breath. His son was crying. This being a father thing was so new, he scarcely knew what he was doing moment to moment, but right now, he knew his son was crying.

Seeing Liam caught in Aiden’s arms, he froze. Tom felt superfluous, and shattered. His heart was aching so profoundly, there was a part of him that wanted to weep as openly as Liam. Aiden was advising him to calm down, and he wasn’t sure if he could.

Aiden beckoned him to sit besides him, and that is how Liam found himself transferred into another pair of arms, as he hiccuped and trembled as a child does in the aftermath of hard sobbing. Aiden was still rubbing his back, but Liam looked up and saw his Papa was now holding him close. This was new. The crying when Mama left for the hospital, that happened, but Papa being here...

“’m glad you’re here,” Liam mumbled, scrubbing his eyes with his fists.

“I’m glad I’m here, as well,” Papa answered, and kissed Liam’s hair, which was definitely curly now. Mama would have gotten him a haircut by this point.

“Papa, did you know Mama was sick?”

“No, Liam. I didn’t. It makes me so sad, knowing she was sick and I wasn’t there to help her.”

Liam looked up into Papa’s face and saw that yes, Papa’s face still looked just as sad, tired, and worried as it did when he came back earlier, maybe even more so. He reached up and touched it, shyly. Papa looked down into Liam’s eyes, and gave him a special smile...Liam was reminded of the way Mama would smile at him sometimes. It made him start to feel a little better.

“You know, Papa...we have a secret, Aiden and I. Mama doesn’t know about it.”

“Oh, is that so?” Papa looked at Aiden, his lips twitching. “And what could this secret be? If it is about licking the bowl after you make cakes...”

“You told?” Aiden teased Liam, ticking his feet lightly.

“No, just Papa...but Mama was there, uh-oh...”

“It’s fine, Liam,” Papa laughed, his voice low and warm. “If that isn’t the secret, then what could it be?”

“Aiden, can we tell Papa?”

“Oh, I think we must,” Aiden answered him seriously. “Because your Papa is going be a part of it, as well...”

Papa leaned back against Liam’s headboard to give Liam his undivided attention as Liam explained. “When Mama is away at the hospital like she is sometimes, and we miss her a lot, we watch The Secret Mama Movie.”

“The Secret Mama Movie? Your Mama never told me she was a movie star, although it’s true I did meet her...” Tom stopped himself abruptly, and cursed himself as ten different kinds of a fool. Clumsy, stupid, foolish...he had no idea if Merry had ever told Liam how they had first met, or what Tom did for a living, or anything, and Liam was far too bright to miss a thing...

Liam, true to form, lit up like a Christmas tree. “You met Mama because she was a movie star?!”

“No, no...” Tom looked to Aiden for help, but as usual, Aiden had his arms folded, and was grinning at him, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “Um, I met your mother because of a movie...but please, tell me more about The Secret Mama Movie, I am very interested.”

“Oh...” Liam looked disappointed. “That would have been neat, if Mama had been in a movie for real.” Tom shifted uneasily on the bed, while keeping Liam tucked in his arms, pressed against his chest as he did so. Liam pulled away, tears forgotten so he could look into his father’s face. “Aiden’s known Mama for a real long time, and they went to school together, and he used to see her when she would practice to have recitals...did you ever see any of Mama’s recitals?”

Tom looked at Liam, and gently cupped his son’s face. “Only one,” he whispered softly. “Only one...”

Liam didn’t understand why Papa was looking at him so tenderly, he just babbled on, “Well, he used to record her. She knew he was doing it, so that isn’t the secret. Sometimes she was even talking to him while he was doing it. Then after I was born, he would record her while she was playing lullabies for me! And then, sometimes she would learn pieces because she was tired of the pieces she had to learn for school, and she would learn them just for funsies, and he thought she was so good, he would record those too...he thought she was really good, and she didn’t, and he wanted her to see just how good she was...and then she had a big big recital right before she graduated, and the school recorded that...”

Aiden interrupted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I promise you, Tom, Merry know about these, I’m no stalker,” he spoke quickly, his face uncomfortably red. “That’s not the secret, either!”

Liam rolled his eyes as expressively as a four year old can. “Nooo, the secret is that Liam got all of these together from all the different places and put it together into one big movie. The Secret Mama Movie. She doesn’t know he did it. But we can watch it and see her and listen to her, every night she isn’t here. It isn’t the same, but...”

Tom looked at Liam, at Aiden, and at Liam again. He spoke very, very quietly. “You get to see Mama play, every night?”

“Uh huh! And she had hair sometimes, and she was wasn’t always tired, and she was laughing, and sometimes she even sings!” Liam was both reverent and thrilled to be letting Papa in on this secret. “But we can’t let Mama know. She doesn’t like to see or hear herself on TV.”

“I can understand that,” Tom muttered, laughing to himself.

“E’scuse me?” Liam cocked his head to the side. Mama was very strict about his not saying just “what,” when he didn’t understand.

“I was trying to say that I can understand, even though your mother is so talented, she would not strike me as one to wish to see herself on the television.”

“But why not, Papa?”

“I imagine it is because she would only look at her performance and see the ways she could have improved, rather than all the ways she excelled...because she always wishes to learn more. Your mother is brilliant, and she loves music, loves playing her instruments, and being the moment. Seeing it captured, though...well, that’s something else,” Tom stopped, recognizing he was getting too philosophical, no matter how intelligent his son was, he was still only four. He wanted to get lost in a memory of himself and Merry, it was at the forefront of his mind, but this was not the time...he shook his head.

“We can watch it tomorrow, Papa,” Liam promised him, snuggling into his chest again. “That way we can all enjoy it together. Just us men.”

Tom closed his eyes and grinned broadly, thankful that Liam couldn’t see his face. “Sounds splendid, son. I am so thankful to hear that Aiden has done such hard work. Thank you, Aiden.”

Aiden had been beaming as well, but it faded. “I did it for a number of reasons,” he admitted, looking at Liam. “There was a point where I thought it might be...very necessary.”

Tom looked down at the little boy who was still curled up against him, and swallowed hard. He understood all too well why such a movie might have been required...as a memorial...a retrospective of a brilliant musician...but most importantly, a way for a boy to see a mother he might not have ever remembered. Thank God that was not the case.

Aiden added, “I also have some footage of her conducting, it isn’t just of her playing instruments. I thought it was very important that Liam see her at the pinnacle of her professional achievement. We’ve all seen her play, but God, Tom...her joy when she conducts...she all but self-illuminates. I can’t believe she doesn’t levitate.”

Tom was ruffling Liam’s hair, feeling him get heavier as he was slowly losing the fight against sleep. “Aiden, how long is this movie?”

“Longer than you would think. Take a guess.”

“Before you mentioned the conducting, I would have said, half an hour? That is quite a lot of time of playing...”

“Think again. Almost two hours,” Aiden snickered, proud of himself. “Almost two solid hours of Merry playing the cello...violin...piano...conducting. You know our Merry, never content unless she was...is...making music in one way or another. That’s how it was so easy when we were still in university. It’s how she managed to keep her mind off the nausea when she was carrying that one there.” Aiden nodded at Liam, who was now asleep against Tom’s chest, mouth open, and snuffling slightly. “I did my best to encourage her, and keep her laughing. Once everyone in the department was clued into her condition, they were right there with me. For all she was so intensely private with her personal affairs, she was still so...well, she’d murder me fo saying it...merry with others. A smile, a laugh, a little pick-me-up with someone she knew was struggling. When she turned up pregnant, no one could believe it, no one had ever seen her with anyone, she had never mentioned anyone, well, there were some unkind comments about virgin births all over again.”

Tom’s eyes flashed both in anger and shame. “I never attempted to keep her from meeting up with classmates, nor did I try to keep us a great secret.”

Aiden shook his head. “I know, Tom. Merry was all about reaching out but never taking back. I’ve known her longer than you, at least by name and face. But I didn’t really know her. No one did, except that she was wildly talented, deeply focused, and so private. So once there was an ‘in,’ a way people could actually gain access to her, even if it was to encourage those impromptu recitals in the halls, a way to make her laugh a bit while I could video her on my phone...it helped. But still, she never let anyone in, not really.”

Tom took a breath, then asked, “Aiden, may I watch the movie privately, so when I see it with Liam, it isn’t the first time?”

Aiden nodded. “You know, that’s a really good idea. Let’s get this one tucked in, and I’ll get it to you.”

Aiden handed a DVD to Tom, who was surprised to see that it looked professionally marketed, instead of just something handwritten in permanent marker. “Aiden...this is incredible.”

“I told you, I wasn’t sure what it was going to be used for when I made it, and I wanted it done right,” Aiden deflected. “It helps having friends in the right places. Um, if you want, I could watch it with you, and explain some things. Or maybe you just want to watch it yourself. It’s up to you.”

Tom deliberated for a moment, then replied, his voice husky, “Aiden, I think it’s best I just see this alone. But thank you.”

“Sure, I understand. You know there’s a TV and player in your room. Good night.” Aiden gave him a half smile and wave, and left.

Tom couldn’t set up the DVD fast enough.

Second selection: https://youtu.be/12r8LCI47WU

Despite the DVD’s appearance, the opening menu was simple, and yet it still took Tom’s breath away. He was so grateful he was watching this without Liam’s alert presence by his side. His screen was filled with a lovely candid photo of his beloved Merry smiling and looking off to the side. Her long hair was loosely pulled back in an ivory ribbon that matched the cable knit sweater she was wearing (he remembered that sweater), and her cello was resting against her jean clad knee as she sat in a chair. He didn’t recognize the haunting and lovely background music, but he had no doubt it was Merry who was performing it. But the puzzling aspect was at the bottom right corner of the screen, the simple words, “The Tom Edition.” Perhaps this is what Aiden wished to explain?

The only option he had was to press “PLAY.”

Third selection: https://youtu.be/lrE5CC1up3s

It began with Merry sitting at a piano and playing, her fingers rippling across the keys smoothly. Someone called, “Skye, are you ready, can we get started?” But she did not reply, she simply kept playing, her body moving as an extension of the notes, clearly caught up in the music. Another voice sighed, “Ah, we’ve lost her again.” A third voice retorted, “We never had her in the first place, once she starts, she’s gone, you know that. You can either let her finish, go shake her, or physically move her. I’d suggest waiting if I were you. Even if you interrupt her, her mind is just going to keep playing once she commits to it.” The unseen onlookers fell silent until Merry played the last note, and she sighed and leaned back. The first voice called out, “Skye! We’re waiting on you, c’mon already!” Tom could see her come back to herself, and she called back, “Sorry! Here I come!” She rose, and walked away from the piano. Tom could see a slight swell in her abdomen, but he was looking for it. Her face was paler than usual, and she looked tired.

Fourth selection: https://youtu.be/3wzZtuo3MHU (does not require looping)

The next video had her standing in a hallway, there was a lot of laughter, and someone finally shouted, “No way, Skye, I dare you.” She had her back to the camera and challenged, “You wanna go there? Really, McIntyre? You sure about that?”

A voice, apparently McIntyre, riposted, “Skye, you’re talented on the cello, I’ll give you that, but no way can you bring that kind of heat on the violin. You just don’t have it.”

Aiden’s voice at the camera level called out, “Ten bucks, McIntyre. Put up or shut up.”

Merry turned around, and she was looking just as tired, but fuller around the waistline. “Forget the ten bucks. McIntyre, if I pull this off, you owe me some fried chicken. This kiddo is calling for some fried chicken...and some pumpkin pie.”

“Pumpkin pie? Skye, you’re crazy, there’s no pumpkin pie this time of year!”

Merry was tuning her violin and sighed, “Okay, just fried chicken then...”

Tom whispered, his eyes already filling, “Darling, I would have found some for you, I swear I would have,” as Merry launched into the brightest, fastest tune he had ever heard. It was clearly a Celtic jig, Tom couldn’t identify it, and the hall filled with hoots and laughter as her notes, triumphant and commanding, wrapped around all present, someone began beating on their instrument case to add percussion, there was clapping, and Tom found himself longing for his spoons.

Merry put her violin and bow down and grinned. “Extra crispy, McIntyre. I prefer drumsticks, thighs, and wings. Hop to, Capriccio is hungry.”

A laughing voice teased, “Only you would call your unborn child ‘Capriccio.’”

“Well, I won’t call my child ‘Bagatelle,’ because by definition that can also mean ‘unimportant’. And my child is very, very important to me,” Merry replied seriously. “And my child is certainly encouraging improvisation, among other things...McIntyre, why the devil are you still here?!”

The scene faded, and Tom found himself laughing, and he spoke, “Merry, you damned well better have gotten your fried chicken, or else I will hunt this McIntyre down and call him out...”

There were then a dizzying array of clips where Merry was playing in recitals, master classes, where her skills with the cello left Tom lost in admiration. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms. He longed to tell her, repeatedly, how awed he was by her talent, her passion, the way she immersed herself, completely, in her music. Tom would watch as the woman he loved would somehow willingly walk into another dimension, where she would speak another language with truth and honesty, and all the strength she possessed. Once she entered it, the music was all that mattered.

Fifth selection: https://youtu.be/bSWxjcAAPL8

After were the symphonies. These were clearly professionally recorded works. Tom couldn’t always see what he wanted, which was Merry’s face, but he could make out her small form. The lush curves of her figure he had loved so passionately were gone, he noted, and a sick feeling arose in his gut. Was she already ill at this point? Was she aware? But as the camera would show her face, Tom saw what Aiden had referred to: Merry was clearly transported. It was as though she was pulling the music out from each section of the orchestra, weaving the notes like tapestry on a loom only she could see, creating a masterpiece. This was what she had longed to do, this was what she had spoken of longingly when they were entwined on her small bed, as they compared their dreams and ambitions while the snow fell outside, leaving them cocooned in the warmth of blankets and each other.

Tom thought about how he felt when he performed Shakespeare, the otherworldly plane he stepped into each time he entered the stage and began to breathe life into his character, giving words and poetry action and meaning, the high he felt when the curtain closed...and knew, without a shadow of a doubt, Merry was also able to animate what others would see as mere ink on a page. It was real. It was true. It was her dream. And it was her soul. Tears were running down her face as he saw her expression when the last note sounded.

She was incandescent.

If the movie had been fiction, made in Hollywood, it would have ended there, just for the look on her face.

Sixth selection: https://youtu.be/gCCmaOMo5k8

There were the lullabies. Tom never got to see infant Liam, only occasionally hear his gurgling. Merry’s face was a portrait of tender motherhood as she would play piece after piece, sometimes singing. The setting would change, as would her clothes, but the love on her face stayed the same. But eventually her hair was gone, and her face grew thinner, her clothes larger, and her movements slower.

There were clips of her playing for Liam, then with Liam, as he picked up his violin and scratched out very basic beginner pieces, or plunked away on the piano. Both Aiden and Merry cheered him on, and praised his efforts.

Merry was now playing different styles of pieces. She would play tunes from Disney films, music that would have Liam belly laughing, giggling, dancing. But on the whole, they were growing slower, and less vigorous.

Seventh Selection: Reader’s choice--Instrumental: https://youtu.be/ZyFyapc3q9g OR original vocals by Enya: https://youtu.be/DFHaGBSyPr4

The last clip began with a darkened room. Tom heard cello music playing but could see nothing.

“Merry?” Aiden’s voice. “What are you doing?”

“Can’t sleep. Can’t think. Can’t, Aiden...so tired...I’m so tired...”

Tom’s attention was riveted before, but now all of his synapses were firing. Merry’s voice was trembling. She sounded so weak, as though she was at the end of her tether...he had never heard Merry like this, ever. This was the most intensely personal piece yet, and he understood now, why this was “The Tom Edition.” Aiden would never allow Liam to hear his mother suffering like this.

“Then put the bow down. Just put the bow down and close your eyes for a little while.”

“Aiden, when I play these pieces, I don’t have to think...I can just, just be. I fall into the music and rest, so that’s what I’m doing, okay? Please don’t nag me.”

A sigh. “All right, but I’m going to sit and be with you then. I don’t want you collapsing again.”

“No...I don’t want that either.”

There was more gentle, soft music...but then, Merry began to sing, her voice soft, and haunting:

Night has gone without my tears

Now I walk alone

You're no longer here

The days turn to years

I could never say goodbye

To the sadness in my eyes

You know you are in my heart

But the miles keep us apart

Time moves slow

In the falling rain

I still dream of you

And whisper your name

Will I see you once again?

I could never say goodbye

To the sadness in my eyes

You know you are in my heart

But the miles keep us apart

I could never say goodbye

Aiden’s voice spoke in the darkness. “Honey, when are you going to get in touch with Tom? I think you should give the guy a chance. He seems like he’s good man from what I can tell...”

Her voice was filled with tears as she said, “I promised, Aiden. I promised him, no strings.”

Aiden’s voice, filled with sympathy and reproach. “Merry...”

She sighed. “You’re right, Aiden. I’m so tired...I guess it is finally time to...” Her voice broke. “It’s time.”

Eighth selection https://youtu.be/kcMaxo0OaZo (can be looped for as long as desired)

The last clip had no video, it was simply a list of acknowledgements and thanks, while another piece played. Tom was struggling to breathe, let alone read them.

He had no idea Merry had been grieving so keenly. Tom had missed Merry, and wished she was still a part of his life. He refused to allow himself to address his pain, and went on with the business of living. He knew Merry had, as well. But the voice he had just heard, wrapping itself around the cello notes in the absence of light...it went beyond simply acknowledging loss. It spoke of deep mourning.

“I didn’t know, Mozart,” Tom spoke aloud in the empty room. “You seemed so composed when I saw you again...but why should I be surprised? You always buttoned yourself up so tightly when you felt afraid, or threatened in any way.” After her parents had callously dismissed her from their lives, Merry closed off her soft, tender heart, determined never to let herself get hurt again.

After their first kiss that had begun almost tentatively, but quickly built in passion, Tom took both of her hands and looked deeply into her eyes. “Merry, I don’t do things like this lightly...not without a great deal of caring, and commitment...but I can’t give you commitment like you deserve. I am going to leave in less than five months, probably closer to four. Once we’ve completed filming in this area, I am going to leave to complete the movie elsewhere, and from there I am going to be thrust into a huge worldwide press tour. I desperately want to be with you...but you are far too precious for me to treat you carelessly.”

Merry’s smile was bittersweet. “Tom, I care about you as well...I don’t do things like this either, hardly ever...and when I have, it was never anything but casual, because I do not let anyone close to me. At all. I’m not asking for commitment. I just want to be as close to you as I can possibly be.” Wistfully, she lightly placed her hand against his heart, tentatively curling her fingertips as though it was most she dared, the most she expected to be allowed to touch him. “...me, who never wants to be close to anyone. It’s strange, really...” She stepped away from him. “I understand if you want to leave now. No hard feelings.”

He looked at her intensely, as though he was trying to look into her past and her soul. “Who hurt you so badly, Merry? You are much too warm and giving to have closed yourself off so completely. Who hurt you, Meredith Skye?”

She looked away and replied dully, “Life did. Thank you for walking me home.”

Seeing the light extinguished in her eyes, the spirit stripped from her voice, was more than he could take. Tom closed the distance between them, wrapped his arms around her, and drew her into a fiery kiss that not only rekindled the spark within her, but started a conflagration that didn’t stop until it consumed both of them, leaving only softly flickering embers in its wake sometime later.

Holding her body against his, softly stroking her hair, her face, her neck, Tom whispered, “I am going to find it so very, very hard to leave you. I already know this.”

Merry looked into his eyes and replied steadily. “But you will, Tom. You don’t have a choice. You have to leave, and I have to stay. We will have to enjoy the time we have together, cherish it for what it is, and then let each other go...no ties to keep you here...

“No strings.”

In the faint light of the bedroom, Tom pretended not to see the pain in Merry’s eyes as he repeated, “No strings.”

In the days that passed, Tom found that Merry was actually right: Yes, chemotherapy was awful. But she handled it well enough.

She knew which days were likely to be worse than others. She deeply appreciated Tom’s presence, but on bad days she seemed to slip into another headspace. All she wanted was her headphones, and for him to hold her hand. Even then, he would watch as she seemed to play the piano on her lap even if it appeared she was asleep. If she was going to vomit (which she did often) she did so calmly, and from another plane of existence. It was almost as if she wasn’t fully there...although when she would lie back down, she would still reach for his hand, and would occasionally welcome a cool cloth for her face.

One of the nurses took pity on Tom and told him, “Don’t take it personally. She is taking a lot of chemicals into her body, and it is not unusual for them to affect a patient’s personality, speech, memory...some even hallucinate. She’s actually taking this remarkably well.”

“I just want to be there for her,” he replied stubbornly.

“And you are. Just remember to give her what she needs, not what you want, or feel the need, to give her,” the woman advised gently.

Tom had to remind himself of those words frequently in the days to come.

It was the last week of filming, and they were behind schedule, mostly due to unseasonably foul weather that kept them from adhering to the proposed shooting schedule. While part of Tom was secretly overjoyed at the delays, this last week was turning into a hellshoot. Tempers were frayed and raw on all sides, and everyone was exhausted. Over half the crew were sick, and those that weren’t either were just coming down with or just recovering from a series of vicious viruses. So far, Tom had escaped what was being called “The Pestilence” (“plague” being found too passé), but he was almost sleepwalking at one point.

He was trying to spend as much time with Merry as possible, but his schedule was demanding, constantly changing, and hectic. He could never tell from day to day when he would have free time available. He knew better than to ask Merry to come to the set location, and he didn’t have time to track her down on campus. Merry made it a point to always have food waiting for Tom, day or night, along with the fresh fruit and vegetables he craved in order to keep sickness at bay. Sometimes she even shaved hours off her precious practice, class, and sleep hours to be there during the odd hours he was awake, or needing to rest to prepare for odd hour shoots: she found a sure-fire way to lull him to sleep was a certain combination of pieces, played on the cello and violin. He was stunned that she would give her time for this, but she would smile and stroke his hair, promising he was worth it.

He would float off, warm and utterly at peace, and would be completely unawares after he fell asleep (often faintly snoring), Merry would set her instrument down, and sit beside him, running her fingers through his hair, ensuring his sleep remained deep and even. She knew sometimes his dreams would become agitated when he was stressed, and he would begin tossing fitfully, even talking and crying out in his sleep. At the first sign of any disturbance, she would speak softly to him, soothing him with her words and touch. Within moments, she would ease him back into a peaceful place, and he could rest once more.

When it was the day before he was to leave, Merry slipped out of bed, murmuring she was going to start the kettle. He tried to ignore the pain raging in his heart, and nodded. He had barely set his feet on the floor when a crashing sound sent him running for the kitchen.

There he found Merry on her hands and knees, looking dazed and picking up shards of teacups. “Tom, stop, you’ll cut yourself!”

Oblivious, he knelt besides her. “Sweetheart, are you all right? What happened?”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure...I must have stood up too quickly, I just felt so light headed, the cups, I was on the floor...I must have...”

Tom felt her forehead. “Merry, you’re ice cold and clammy...are you feeling ill?”

“No. No, Tom, I’m fine, just let me have another moment. I’ll clear this mess away and start making tea and...”

Tom looked at her face, and saw how pale she was. “I think not,” he decided, and picked her up carefully, bringing her to the sofa and wrapping them both in a blanket. “I think we shall just sit here for awhile until your color gets better, and you warm up. That’s it, rest your head on my shoulder, darling. I do hope you aren’t getting sick, darling, please, please don’t be getting sick, who will take care of you?” His forehead was creased with worry.

“You precious man,” she indulgently answered him. “The same person as usual, I can recommend her personally. She’s very capable. Quite good, actually. I’ve relied on her for countless years.”

He looked down at her quizzically. She pulled away from him, sensing his confusion.

“Oh, my sweet Tom.” She patted his cheek, and snuggled in with a smile.

It took him an embarrassing amount of time to realize she meant herself.

Kelly was a constant presence, encouraging Merry, supporting Tom.

“Tom, I know it must look bad when she’s throwing her guts up so much, but truly, she’s handling this like a champ,” Kelly told him emphatically. “Her labs are very promising. I was really concerned how she was going to take this, she was so frail when she came in, but she is hanging in there. The better she does now, the more hopeful I am about the way her body will respond the the T cell infusion.” She paused and eyed the way he was pulling his hair if not rubbing the back of his neck or jaw. “Okayyy...you, good sir, look like you either don’t believe me, or are very stressed out.”

“I don’t know how to help her,” Tom burst out at last, mindful of his volume, but his tone was quite clearly agitated. “I can’t hold her. She doesn’t even want to be touched. Tell me what I can do for her, she’s so miserable, and I don’t know what I can do. I would play the guitar for her, but honestly, I don’t think I’m of the quality that would be of any help...”

Kelly thought for a moment. “When she wasn’t playing for you, what did you do for her...and keep it G-rated, please,” she teased.

Tom felt his face heat as he mumbled, “I’m afraid to even touch her...”

Kelly looked at him and asked, “May I give you a hug?”

Tom nodded, and she wrapped her arms around him, her head coming right under his chin, her hands rubbing his back slowly. “You’re being put through the wringer, big guy. All I can say is you have to be patient. Which you have been. And trust her guidance. She’s been through this before. She doesn’t want to be touched, not because she doesn’t love you anymore, but because her body just hurts. Has she asked you to pack up and go home?”

He shook his head as he and Kelly parted.

“Then she wants you here. Believe me, I’ve heard about Meredith Skye’s temper. If she has something she wants to be said, she doesn’t leave room for doubt.”

Tom frowned. “She wasn’t your patient before now...I don’t understand.”

Kelly’s laugh was nostalgic. “When she informed Dr. Roths’ staff that she was flying out to see you...? He, ah, made the classic mistake, and forbade her to go. I don’t think anyone had ever heard the dressing down the likes she gave to him. I know he certainly hadn’t...they’re probably still replacing the paint she blistered off the walls...” Kelly sighed. “Ah, it was a beautiful thing. Dr. Roths is brilliant, but his people skills definitely need some work. When our Merry was through with him, there might have even been some applause. Might, I say. In a very discreet, surreptitious fashion.”

Tom looked down and laughed.

“She’s done, you know. With the actual chemo. She just has to recover from it, and we are going to keep a very close eye on her...and by then, it will be showtime. So try and relax. And once she is feeling better?” Kelly looked at him intently. “Do not be afraid to touch her. Are we clear on that? Don’t make that mistake. Love up on her as much as you want. What are you waiting for? Don’t waste time, Tom...we all make that mistake, don’t we?”

Ninth (and today’s final) selection: https://youtu.be/2iovXlPv52s

Merry’s fingers were moving, one hand was by her shoulder, and the other in her lap. Her bed was reclined at an angle, so she didn’t have to lift either arm. Her eyes were closed, and there was a faint smile on her lips.

“Darling? It’s Tom, sweetheart...are you up for some company?”

Her eyes opened readily, and her smile widened as her fingers ceased their movements. “Tom...how lovely to see you. I’m sorry I’ve been out of it for awhile, but I’m feeling more alert today.” She reached one hand out, and elated, he took it and brought it to his lips.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear you say that,” he replied, his face aglow with genuine pleasure. “What were you playing when I came in, it looked like the cello...”

“‘Gabriel’s Oboe’...but it’s neither here nor there. Tell me everything going on at home, Papa Bear...”

Tom looked at her carefully, and saw she wasn’t tethered to a variety of apparatuses. Slowly, he lowered a side rail, asking, “May I?”

Merry blushed, and nodded, thinking he was simply going to sit besides her on the bed. She was surprised and delighted when he carefully scooped her up and lay back on the bed with her in his arms. She was even more amazed when he lightly pressed his lips to the top of her head.

No one—no one—had ever touched her bare head outside of medical personnel since she had lost her hair. The simple intimate touch of his lips caused something in her heart to crack, then shatter...an ice shelf around her heart that had formed years ago suddenly collapsed.

If Tom could have known this, he would have been insufferably pleased.

But he couldn’t tell. If he noticed anything, it was Merry seemed more inclined to touch him as he told her about the latest in the World of Liam: the ducks in the area were slightly less rude than London ducks, Tom was aggrieved to report; minor key was much more interesting sounding than major key; scales were boring but arpeggios were fun; he was reading at a frightening pace, so much so that he and Aiden found they needed to pay attention to advertisements and graffiti much more than they had in the past.

He looked down at her. Merry was so still, he was certain she had fallen asleep.

Her face peaceful and wreathed with a blissful smile...but when he fell silent, her eyelids flew open. “Why did you stop?”

Drowning in her blue eyes, he touched the tip of her nose lightly. “I thought you’d fallen asleep there.”

Merry reached up and patted his chest, over his heart, right next to where her head was resting. “Are you joking? I can hear your heart, your breathing, the vibrations of your voice as you are telling me all about our boy...I wouldn’t miss this for anything, Tom. I don’t want to miss a single word.”

Tom felt his heart actually skip a beat when Merry touched him so tenderly of her own volition, and reached up to capture her hand and press it closely to his body. “In that case, I won’t waste a single moment.”

He felt her smile as he continued, “Liam has decided that pigeons and squirrels must be mortal enemies of old, as they are clearly fighting over the same resources...the way he tells it, it sounds as though they could be Montagues against Capulets...”

“Vampires against lycans...”

“Liverpool against Manchester United...”

“First chair versus second chair. God save me.”

Tom laughed, and kissed her head again. “Just so...”

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