Free Hot Buttered Yum by Kim Law

higher. “I’m perfectly fine, dear. I’m always fine.”
    Why did it sound
like she’d said those words before?
    “Can I do
something?” Roni asked.
    The glassiness
from her neighbor’s eyes cleared and the shrewdness returned. “You mean other
than admit you made a mistake?”
    Roni clenched her
teeth together. “I did not make a mistake.”
    “Decisions like
yours don’t lead to daily three-hour sessions at the piano.”
    “I still like
playing the piano.”
    “Obviously.”
    A sigh slipped
out, though Roni had been trying hard to hold it in.
This had been a rough day already. She didn’t need her neighbor being difficult
on top of it.
    “I’m going in
now, Mrs. Rylander. I assume you can get yourself
back to your place?”
    As in, go away.
Leave me alone. Don’t say another word.
    But Mrs. Rylander either didn’t read the underlying message, or she
didn’t care.
    Instead of
heading back to her place, she plopped her hands on her hips and scrunched up
her face. “And just for the record, I saw the way that boy looked at you. As well
as the way you looked at him.”
    “Again. I have
no idea—”
    “Desire,” she bit
out. “That other kind. Contestant number seven.”
    Roni started to
shake her head in denial, but Mrs. Rylander held up a
single bony finger. Roni
ceased movement.
    “You can lie to
yourself all you want. You can lie to me. But your face doesn’t lie.” Mrs. Rylander softened her voice. “And your heart doesn’t lie.
Listen to it.”
    Lucas lined up with Melody Monday night as
they waited to be given the go-ahead to head on stage. Melody was a sweetheart.
In her late fifties, and so excited to have been selected to
help with the first challenge of the competition. She’d ridden down with
a group of friends from Savannah.
    She’d also been
a shameless flirt. But an innocent one.
    They’d had a
really good time throughout the afternoon. First they’d checked out their tree
really good time throughout the afternoon. First they’d checked out their tree
and box of decorations, and then they’d grabbed a meal and used the time to
formulate a plan. He stunk at putting lights up. He’d certainly heard that
enough over the last few years. But Melody had sworn she knew what she was
doing. She’d done the job each year during her thirty-five-year marriage.
    Since her
husband had passed away two years earlier, she’d let the grandkids handle the
decorating, so she’d taken today’s opportunity to heart. She’d wanted the
chance to see what she could do again.
    Lucas had lucked
out. This woman could have whipped a Charlie Brown tree into shape. They’d both
ended up proud of the job they’d done. He’d seen plenty of admirers, too, as he
and Melody had stood by their decked-out tree during the judging process.
    Many people had
oohed and aahed over their creation.
    Who he hadn’t
seen, oohing and aahing or otherwise, was Roni. She’d been suspiciously absent since the curtain had
closed on her solo that morning.
    He pictured her
as she’d been at the piano and felt the power of what he’d witnessed. If he
hadn’t seen it himself only a short time beforehand, he would have never
believed she’d been racked with fear. Her talent hadn’t slipped one bit in her
absence.
    He’d gotten lost
in the sound as she’d played her solo, and had forgotten there were more than
the two of them in the room together. He’d watched her. And he’d wanted to go
to her.
    “There she is,”
Melody whispered beside him. She slipped her arm through his and squeezed.
    He followed her
gaze, but knew who she was talking about without asking.
    Roni was coming from
the back and heading to the stage. She very carefully was not looking around as
she walked.
    She wore another
dress tonight, this one silver and more formal. It hit her at the ankle on one
side and was pulled up to mid-shin on the other. There was a thin line of
sequins running in a path down to the bunched material at her shin, then