lot of that recently, and I think I would enjoy just having little problems for a change. I sure wouldn't want to do it again.”
That pulled her out of whatever place she had just gone to. She looked at Max sympathetically. “I guess I can understand that. Every time I saw you on television, you just looked so lost.”
That startled Max. He sat a little straighter. “You know who I am?”
Alice laughed again. “Of course I do, silly man. ‘Sarah's Song’ got me through some tough times. There is no one on the planet who hasn't heard you sing. You were only the talk of the entire town for close to six months. You were on television more than the President.”
Max frantically trash-canned the mention of “Sarah's Song” and then deflated. “Oh, I guess that makes sense. It's just that no one has made a big deal over me here. I had hoped that I could start over again here without dragging my past with me.”
Alice put her hand on Max's. “You poor dear. You know we all drag our past mistakes around. No matter where we go, it comes along with us. I don't think there's any place in Heaven or on Earth where people haven't heard you sing or cried over what those vultures put you through.”
“Oh,” said Max, eyes clouding and threatening rain. “I guess I was just fooling myself. I just want...”
Alice wrapped Max's hand with both of her. “Sometimes you just have to be strong enough to carry the weight of your mistakes, hon. It's not easy, but the alternative is just to give up. Remember, God never will give you a burden so heavy that you cannot carry it...” She changed the topic when she saw Max's stricken look. “Dear man, you are right where you need to be. A lot of us injured souls find rest and acceptance in this town.”
Max was too wrapped up in his own problems to notice that the sadness in Alice's eyes was not just for him. She sat back, pulled her hands away, and studied the miserable man in front of her.
“So, where did you grow up, Max?”
He immediately missed the warmth of her hands, but he was grateful for the change in subject. “I grew up in the little town of Lakeville Minnesota, just south of Minneapolis-St. Paul.”
“Minnesota?” She giggled. “Hardly the hotbed of musical creativity that I’d have expected. I would have bet on Nashville or Austin, or at least LA.”
He smiled.
“Well, I have to admit my dad was a bit at a loss on how to deal with my obsession with music. He was more a real man who lived for beer and hunting on the weekends.”
“How about your mother?”
“I guess she’s the one I connected with more. She was always singing or humming something and she was the one who made sure music was always available to me. She’d also kick my butt if I didn’t practice. Her dream was for me to be a concert pianist.”
“A pianist? I didn’t know you played the piano.”
Max smiled at her and said, “Hey, I’m not just one trick pony. We had an old out-of-tune upright piano and when she caught me trying to teach myself how to play when I was four, she signed me up for lessons.”
“Four? Could you even reach the keys?”
“I was tall for my age, even then. I don’t remember, but my mom told me the teacher didn’t want to take me so young until she saw me play. I don’t actually remember much about her, but I do remember that old piano of ours.” His mind wandered through the corridors of memory, and he barked out a laugh.
“What?”
“I was just thinking about the time I broke it.”
Laugh lines crinkled at the corners of her eyes, and she leaned eagerly forward. “The piano? What did you do to it?”
“Heh, as I said, the thing was out of tune. When I was just starting, my mom browbeat my dad into paying to get it tuned, but after a few years, it started going sour again. He absolutely refused to ‘send good money after bad’ and it drove me crazy. So, one night, I got into the back and figured out which keys went to which strings and
That pulled her out of whatever place she had just gone to. She looked at Max sympathetically. “I guess I can understand that. Every time I saw you on television, you just looked so lost.”
That startled Max. He sat a little straighter. “You know who I am?”
Alice laughed again. “Of course I do, silly man. ‘Sarah's Song’ got me through some tough times. There is no one on the planet who hasn't heard you sing. You were only the talk of the entire town for close to six months. You were on television more than the President.”
Max frantically trash-canned the mention of “Sarah's Song” and then deflated. “Oh, I guess that makes sense. It's just that no one has made a big deal over me here. I had hoped that I could start over again here without dragging my past with me.”
Alice put her hand on Max's. “You poor dear. You know we all drag our past mistakes around. No matter where we go, it comes along with us. I don't think there's any place in Heaven or on Earth where people haven't heard you sing or cried over what those vultures put you through.”
“Oh,” said Max, eyes clouding and threatening rain. “I guess I was just fooling myself. I just want...”
Alice wrapped Max's hand with both of her. “Sometimes you just have to be strong enough to carry the weight of your mistakes, hon. It's not easy, but the alternative is just to give up. Remember, God never will give you a burden so heavy that you cannot carry it...” She changed the topic when she saw Max's stricken look. “Dear man, you are right where you need to be. A lot of us injured souls find rest and acceptance in this town.”
Max was too wrapped up in his own problems to notice that the sadness in Alice's eyes was not just for him. She sat back, pulled her hands away, and studied the miserable man in front of her.
“So, where did you grow up, Max?”
He immediately missed the warmth of her hands, but he was grateful for the change in subject. “I grew up in the little town of Lakeville Minnesota, just south of Minneapolis-St. Paul.”
“Minnesota?” She giggled. “Hardly the hotbed of musical creativity that I’d have expected. I would have bet on Nashville or Austin, or at least LA.”
He smiled.
“Well, I have to admit my dad was a bit at a loss on how to deal with my obsession with music. He was more a real man who lived for beer and hunting on the weekends.”
“How about your mother?”
“I guess she’s the one I connected with more. She was always singing or humming something and she was the one who made sure music was always available to me. She’d also kick my butt if I didn’t practice. Her dream was for me to be a concert pianist.”
“A pianist? I didn’t know you played the piano.”
Max smiled at her and said, “Hey, I’m not just one trick pony. We had an old out-of-tune upright piano and when she caught me trying to teach myself how to play when I was four, she signed me up for lessons.”
“Four? Could you even reach the keys?”
“I was tall for my age, even then. I don’t remember, but my mom told me the teacher didn’t want to take me so young until she saw me play. I don’t actually remember much about her, but I do remember that old piano of ours.” His mind wandered through the corridors of memory, and he barked out a laugh.
“What?”
“I was just thinking about the time I broke it.”
Laugh lines crinkled at the corners of her eyes, and she leaned eagerly forward. “The piano? What did you do to it?”
“Heh, as I said, the thing was out of tune. When I was just starting, my mom browbeat my dad into paying to get it tuned, but after a few years, it started going sour again. He absolutely refused to ‘send good money after bad’ and it drove me crazy. So, one night, I got into the back and figured out which keys went to which strings and
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