67. Playing the Melody
Her throat was tight as Brutus pulled off his hat, the large hazard-looking symbol with a face in it tattooed on the back of his head, laughing at her helplessness. She watched him walk around the rest of the piano and sit down next to her son. His fingers touched the keys and music flowed from the exposed strings. He was playing Heart and Soul, the song her own son was still struggling to learn, hands too small to hit the keys.
So when she'd turned to try and fax the coordinates to the Planet, it never occurred to her to continue glancing behind her to see if Brutus was still at the piano. Heart and Soul was still playing perfectly behind her, so it was expected for her to think it was Brutus. But after it became painfully obvious that it wasn't Brutus, she'd never given it a thought.
At least, she never gave it a thought on the yacht.
The plane, however, was another matter entirely.
Because there, in all the chaos and panic surrounding them, a stray thought of motherly pride wriggled to the surface of Lois' thoughts.
He played it. My boy can play piano.
fin