20 Page 20: The Ride (part 2)

Hi, welcome to another episode of Dave dragging me to a different continent and blasts me with suprises that I have never known my entire life.

I'm just kidding, Dave's a really cool guy. He's just secretive for my sake. And we're still in the same continent but I'm a little bit disoriented with all the revelations that had been shoved at my face.

So far it has been established that this house belonged to my grandparents, whom I have never met by the way, which happens to have been passed on to my mother as a birthday gift. Well ain't that sweet. Yet another discovery was that my mother has two younger brothers and was never revealed in public as my mother's way of protecting them.

But, I knew reconnecting with my past wasn't the only reason Dave brought me here. I discovered just now that he invited Miss Lily, manager of Cherry, to have lunch with us in this house just so I could milk her of Niko's past.

But honestly, I don't even know why I'm playing this role for somebody else's sake. Worse, my rival's sake.

Dave and I decided to move to the balcony of the great room. He said he felt rude being in a lady's bedroom―even though he randomly busts in my apartment all the time.

He tried leading the conversation from when the house was built to the family holidays to the family dogs, which surprised me. Dave knew so much about my mother's family more than I did. I guess that's how it is when you're the nephew of Ursula's bodyguard.

What I found really sweet was how my mother invited Dave over in this house back when she was celebrating her twenty-first birthday. Dave was still small back then and the family found him very smart and amusing.

"So, you were the Louvre's plaything?" I commented.

Dave narrowed his eyes, "I think 'plaything' is going a bit too far." he said, which made me giggle.

"Your mother called me little Einstein you know." he said proudly redeeming himself.

I rolled my eyes smiling, "We both know how kind my mother was. I bet if she saw you now, she'd be surprised at how that Einstein had become a mother to her own child."

"Why do you always have a come back to everything I say?"

I shrugged, "It's a talent."

"Speaking of talents," he snapped his fingers, "Your uncles were exceptional musicians."

"Really?"

"Absolutely! Louis played the piano, while Lyle played the viola. In fact," he shifted, "Would you like to go to the music room?"

I knew this house was huge, but an invitation to visit the music room, made my eyes want to fall off its sockets.

"Do I?" I screeched, unintentionally, but I don't care anymore.

If there's one thing in this world that I cannot live without―that would be music. Even though I can't play an instrument, or produce a decent enough sound to be promoted in public, I know deep in my heart that music had always been within me. And that is why, just by the sight of an instrument or the idea of music makes me feel giddy. Additionally, now knowing that my uncles were musicians, ignited something inside me.

The room smelled of wood. Not just any kind of wood―instrument wood. To anyone of you reading this who have held an instrument even once, don't deny it, you tried to sniff it. Dave giggled when he saw me deeply inhaling out of nowhere.

"What?"

"Nothing." He looked away. But I knew he was laughing.

My eyes danced around the room. It was a long carpeted hall, full of pictured windows on one side, and a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The hall was bigger than the suite I was in. The moment you step in, your eyes will dart towards the black grand piano purposely placed on a two tier platform in the middle. There were other instruments hanging from the wall and encased in glass across the room, but the piano was the star of it all.

I was about to run to it when I noticed the wall beside me. At first I thought it was another set of paintings, but it wasn't.

At my left was a wall of sketched individual photographs in gold frames, descending from the top creating a diagram of some sort.

I scan the faces from above, trying hard to remember if I know some, but I hardly recognize any of them. Only then when I reached the last two collumns where I saw familiar faces, but younger than what was hung near the balcony entrance.

"Is this.." my voice trailed.

"The family tree." said Dave.

He pointed to the two pictures I was eyeing on, "Those are your grandparents."

"The ones from the balcony." I mumbled.

Dave nodded with a smile.

Then he pointed sequentially to the three other sketches below them, "That's your mother, Ursula, Louis then Lyle."

And because they were sketches, I couldn't exactly tell how much the three siblings resembled each other or to their parents. Although, it was strikingly amazing how despite ot being in a greyscale of images, I can imagine their faces as if they were here.

Dave and I moved to the instruments. Half of the windows were still draped in thin pale blue curtains making the room less bright. Dave decided to open one pane just so a good breeze could relieve the stuffiness of the room.

I sat at the piano, pushing the cover up, revealing the black and white keys. By the looks of this place, I assumed it to be at least more than fifty years old. And yet this piano looks brand new. I lightly tapped on the keys and made my fingers run a few octaves upward. I saw Dave glance at me with a mix of curiosity and fondness.

"No." I blurted out.

He held his hands up, "I haven't said anything!"

"Your eyes were."

I know that look. He wanted me to play a few tunes, which of course did not faze me.

I was about to leave the piano alone when I realized that the long ottoman-stool or whatever you call it, also serves as a secret compartment. The cushioned sitting area was hinged to its wooden base. I pushed the unhooked area up which revealed several music paraphernalias underneath.

"Woah." I exhaled.

Inside the compartment were dusty music sheets, a screwdriver, a metronome and a piano book. I picked up the book that was almost the side of a laptop and blew the dust off. At the bottom right of the cover were the initials "MDF" in thick black ink, which had me wondering whether it was a code or a person.

"Who is MDF?" I showed Dave the book.

He picks it up from my hands, studying the initials. "Dunno." he shrugged. "Must be the author."

I rolled my eyes, "It's handwritten dummy. It should have been printed the same way as the title if it was the author. But look!" I brushed my fingers over the letters. "It's clearly written by hand. The letters have a different texture like it was inked in purpose."

Dave scanned the pages making the paper look like it was about to fly out.

"Careful!" I yelped, worried of the fragility of the binding. The book felt old like it was about to crumble, and Dave's handling wasn't putting me at ease.

Midway of his flipping, something fell out which had me gasping. I started to freak out that a page had fall off, but it was smaller. I bent down to pick it up, and to my surprise it was an old photograph of a girl. Despite it being old and murky on the sides, I could distinguish the girl's contours. She was a girl about my age that had caramel brown hair in soft curls falling to her chest. She was wearing a turtleneck sweater and a golden heart shaped pendant resting closely to her neck. I flipped the photo to check the back for a note or something. Old people like to write on photographs after all like some sort of greeting card.

My gut feel was right.

At the back it read: To my best friend, Ursula. Happy 15th birthday. I hope you find this book easy to understand. You've always wanted to play minuet. Check page 154. The piece is there. Love, Mary Dianne.

Dave and I exchanged looks.

"Who is Mary Dianne?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Once again, I dunno."

I scowled at him. I wanted to know if he was lying to me at this point, but then again I realized it was pointless for him to lie at me, especially now that he's brought me to one clue on my family heritage.

"Alright. Fair enough." I said still holding the photograph while holding my hands up. "I don't expect you to know everything about my family."

His face turned grave. "Hey, I have my fair share of memories with your maternal side of the family, but this―this Mary Dianne, I have no idea who she is."

I looked again to the picture on my hand and tried to examine her features, just in case I caught a glimpse of her somewhere. Then again, I don't have much photographs with me nor an album to begin with. There was certainly nothing to compare it to.

I sighed. "I don't know. Maybe I know her, maybe I don't. I've never seen her in any of my mother's documentary films or recorded interviews. Must be a non showbiz friend.

"But," I took the book from his hands, "I'm taking this with me."

Dave furrowed his eyebrows, "And here I thought you were trying to irritate me."

"Were you?" I managed a smile.

He walks to the door shaking his head while chuckling to himself. I was waiting for a come back but he just glanced back at me saying he'll be off preparing some snacks in the kitchen for me. I was feeling rather hungry especially when all I had was a banana before we left the apartment, so I shooed him off to let him do his thing. Dave paused for a last look at me and he was gone.

I decided to sit back down at the piano, just to feel the entire room around me. Having the magnificent instrument in the middle of the hall with a special pedestal made it feel like I was in a concert area. Although I wasn't a master of the piano, the main house from my father's side who used to take care of me did require me to have private piano lessons. It didn't last long since I ran away from home by the end of my elementary years.

My hand brushes against the crumbly old book we had just found.

"I wonder if mom was any good at piano." I thought.

I look towards the family tree on the wall, finally regarding each face. From earlier, everything looked hazy up close with only my grandparents and mother dear who looked crisp and sharp in my vision. But now looking at everyone, I felt a lump in my throat.

For some reason, I had the sudden urge to apologize. I wanted to apologize on how all they've worked hard for has come to this and that their possibly only descendant has ended up becoming a lunatic obsessing on avenging her mother's death.

Unsure of why Dave has brought me here, and being it the first time that Dave had ever gave me permission to dig deeper into my past, made me rethink of everything I had been doing so far.

Truthfully, I was worried of Dave's undying support even though we aren't flesh and blood. Moreover, I was making him do things that were neither good or justifiable. But now that I think about it, maybe this trip was Dave's way of telling me that I may still have a choice. That whatever choice it may be, he'll be there for me.

A light breeze fluttered to my hair.

The smell of the ocean tickling my nose.

I hugged my arms.

I tried to imagine my mother dancing around the room. Her brothers joyfully playing the instruments and guests flooding in to listen. Their parents laughing along with tune. Beautiful. The image flowed in me as if I was part of the memory that I had just seen.

Then it hit me.

I clawed to my chest, feeling a surge of energy in me.

If the light can still shine and shed warmth inside this empty mansion, then maybe there's still a way to do things right.

"Eve!" yelled Dave from below.

"Yeah?" I yelled back.

"Pancakes. Come on down!"

I held back a laugh.

"Coming!"