Free Teaching Melody by Emma Clark

 
    I remembered the first time I met Ashlee's parents. Her mom Chelsea was okay, but Ashlee's dad was nicer and warmer to me. I liked Preston right away.
    I also remembered being jealous of Ashlee's enormous house that I considered a mansion. Compared to my own house, hers
was
a mansion.
    One time when I was just shy of my tenth birthday, Ashlee and I wandered far from her house and found this field of pink primroses. I crouched in a small clearing. A hideous sweat bee buzzed at me, then I felt its sting on my arm.
    I screeched and wailed like a baby.
    Ashlee panicked, helpless. She ran back to the house, tugging and practically dragging me with her.
    We burst through the French doors to the dining room. Ashlee's mother just stared at us, then grimaced as she walked off. That stung as much as the actual bee sting. Why was she so mean to me?
    In came Preston Lee D'Anjou, a look of concern on his face and in his sky blue eyes. His tan complexion brightened those eyes. Back then Preston looked so tall to me, so big and overpowering. Yet he was so kind.
    At the time he was only twenty-six years old. He and Chelsea had Ashlee when they were
way
too young.
    Preston hurried and whisked me into his arms, comforting me even though I was a strapping nine-year-old. He took me to the bathroom where he plopped me on top of the sink. He saw the thick welt spreading across my upper arm.
    "What happened to you?" he asked. "Don't tell me you and Ashlee stumbled into a patch of flowers and you got stung."
    Is this guy psychic?
    "Yes," I said, scowling. "I got stung and it hurts."
    "Well, I'm sure it'll stop in a few minutes." Chuckling at my expense, he rubbed the welt with his forefinger, then leaned and fetched a band-aid from the lower cabinet.
    Gingerly he smoothed the band-aid strip on the welt, after eyeing it to ensure the stinger didn't remain.
    "There you go." He warmly smiled, eyes twinkling. "All better?"
    Strangely, it really did feel better. Ashlee's daddy had the "magic touch" it seemed. I returned his smile and he gave me a pat on the head.
    I'd never forget that day.
    And then when I was fifteen, one time Ashlee and I were riding our bikes as we followed a dirt path behind the mansion. Apparently I was prone to having accidents, for I lost my balance and took a spill.
    That time I badly scraped my ankle. I didn't cry even though it hurt like hell.
    As Ashlee lagged behind, I limped into the house to rest on the sofa. Ashlee seemed annoyed, bored with me lounging about.
    She headed out and resumed riding her bike.
    My ankle throbbed and oozed blood. Preston arrived home from work, wearing an Italian suit and carrying a leather briefcase. He had to dress nicely because he was an attorney.
    He saw me and dropped the briefcase. Then he circled around and perched on the edge of the coffee table, leaning as he surveyed my ankle.
    "That's a nasty wound you got there. How did
that
happen?" His lips curved to an amused grin, his golden hair swayed at the top as his head moved. Just then I realized how handsome he truly was, and I couldn't look away from his vivid eyes.
    "Fell off my stupid bike," I said, feeling stupid myself.
    "Oh." Preston's head bobbed up in understanding, his golden hair glittering. The way he looked reminded me of the way a prince might, especially whenever he sported a fancy suit. He also exuded the aroma of aftershave, smelling good enough to eat.
    He disappeared a moment and returned with a large band-aid. Sitting back on the table, Preston massaged the band-aid over my ankle.
    He didn't stop massaging. His fingers worked up my lower leg as he eyed the injury.
    "How does that feel?" He asked, slightly smiling, continuing to rub in slow, gentle motions. Weird tingling sensations coursed inside me.
    "Amazing. Thank you." For some reason my face burned, and I had to avert my gaze a second.
    Preston winked, nodded and got up. He started for the stairwell but paused to face me a final time.
    "You need to be more