Soli Deo gloria
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Little Women. Who doesn't love a little Laurie and Beth friendship? :)
When Laurie stormed in a whirlwind rage into his grandfather's parlor, little Beth upon the pretty piano bench didn't know who to react as: should she pet his unruly black curls in comfort as Jo would, stick up her nose and pretend he didn't exist as he was being so rude as Amy would, or lecture him maternally with a cocked eye as Meg would?
She simply acted as Beth would. She faltered on her keys before quietly tapping away at them, sometimes daring to take a peep over her shoulder at the thunderously pacing brood working a long length of wear into a section of European carpet.
Ordinarily shy Beth would've slipped away, ready to let the wild lion pace in his cage in silence. But as she'd come to like the Laurences, she didn't see them as strangers but as family—Laurie not as a boy but as a brother. So long moments passed with neither acknowledging the other's presence until Laurie finally put his fists against the top of the mantel, and actually listened to the simple, beautiful music filling up the silence of the room. It relaxed his shoulders; his breathing evened. His fight with his grandfather about his inevitable future faded into something like regret.
Beth's fingers continued their practiced little dance over the keys. She almost didn't notice Laurie carefully taking a seat beside her until she saw out of the corner of her eye his own fine artist's fingers hovering over the keys, as if waiting for her permission for him to join her.
She stopped; he held. Her fingers slowly started up again, and his tentatively joined hers on the ivory and ebony keys.
His melody interspersed throughout hers. Every time a tiny break came in he added a few notes of his own. Beth found herself pleased; he knew the correct timing and rhythm—his little notes fit in with hers almost like a glove. She found her hand turning the paper full of music notes and he fell into playing an accompanying melody beside hers. It was no longer just playful notes but a voice answering back the questions her own music was asking. Their conversation was beautiful, played across the keys they each loved so well.
The afternoon slipped away, hours gone before the old man finally came to find his grandson. He'd expected him alone, playing the piano loud enough for the whole mansion to hear as revenge against his grandfather—but no. Mr. Laurence paused at the door and listened with attentive ears and watched with unblinking eyes and soft heart at the two children exchanging an understanding smile as they played across the keys.
Mr. Laurence softly closed the door. The music behind it still spoke to him long after he'd walked away to leave them in peace.
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