The Language of Sycamores by Lisa Wingate Page A

Dell was singing the words to “Over the Rainbow,” which she said she had learned from Grandma Rose. She didn’t notice that we had an audience at the door.
    I winked at Kate and gave a shrug toward Dell. Kate widened her eyes, then mouthed, “Wow,” and just kept shaking her head in shock.
    Joshua finally squealed and started to clap, and Dell realized they were watching. She blushed and stopped singing.
    “Hey, how about that!” Ben cheered. “When did you learn to play the piano?”
    “Karen taught me just now,” Dell replied matter-of-factly, as if everyone learned to play the piano in less than an hour.
    I stood up, raising my hands helplessly. “Don’t ask me. She’s a quick study.”
    “Karen’s a really good teacher,” Dell bubbled, and she gave me an exuberant hug.
    Kate blinked in surprise. There was, I thought, a hint of jealousy in her look, though she was trying hard to hide it.
    Dell didn’t notice Kate’s expression. She hurried to the door and scooped up Joshua, looking happier than I’d seen her since I arrived. “It was fun! Want me to teach you the piano, Joshie?”
    Joshua said yes, and I stood up so the two of them could have the piano bench. Dell began carefully explaining the notes to him, and of course, he quickly frustrated her efforts by banging on the keys so loudly that it drove the audience onto the porch.
    Ben screwed one eye shut, shaking his head. “Sounds like the piano needs tuning.”
    The rest of us laughed, because we knew the piano wasn’t the problem.
    Kate leaned in the door and told Dell we were going to sit on the porch of the main house, and she and Joshua could come join us when they were done.
    “ ’K,” Dell chirped, and went back to trying to teach Joshua the theme song to Sesame Street . “No, push this one, then that one, Josh. You gotta hear the music in your head, like this. See? No, don’t push those four all at once. Ja-osh!”
    The rest of us started across the lawn. Jenilee and Caleb stopped by their truck to get the box of letters, and Ben veered off toward the back door to take baby Rose in for a diaper change.
    Kate and I walked slowly past Grandma’s rose garden. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dell that excited about anything,” she commented.
    “I know.” It sounded like I was boasting that I had outdone Kate’s efforts with Dell, so I quickly added, “It’s the piano. She’s amazing with it. I’ve never seen anyone pick up the notes that fast. Has she ever had any kind of music lessons?”
    Kate frowned thoughtfully. “I doubt it. They took music classes out of the elementary school a few years ago because of the budget crunch. I think they have some kind of extracurricular vocal music program after school, but that’s about it.”
    “She should have music lessons. It’s almost a crime if she doesn’t get to develop that talent. She’s amazingly gifted.” My mind rushed ahead, trying to work out the details of how Dell could continue playing piano after I left. “Who’s the pianist at the church these days? Is it still Shorty’s daughter? Does she give lessons? Maybe Dell could go after school, or something. I’ll . . .” I stopped short. One look at Kate told me I was stepping all over her toes.
    “Karen, you don’t understand a thing about Dell,” she snapped in a way that caused me to back off. Kate stopped walking, and so did I. “In the first place, she can hardly even bring herself to talk to people she knows. There’s no way she’ll want to go take music lessons from a stranger. In the second place, it’s almost impossible to get her anywhere on a regular basis. We can’t even get her to church on Sunday, and I can’t tell you how many times Ben’s gone by to give her a ride to school, and she’s wandering around the woods or gone to some medical appointment on the dial-a-ride van with her grandmother. The last couple weeks, every time I turn around she’s off somewhere with this Uncle