9.

Later that evening James, Sarah and Alan were enjoying each other's company in the library. James browsed the ceiling to floor bookshelves while Alan read aloud to Sarah. James didn't like seeing the two together especially not that close. Brushing away his annoyance he asked his Mother,

"Do you think Gran has any books about Mozart?"

Sarah opened her eyes and looked at her son. "Yes, I'm sure she does", she said sweetly. Her delicate hand indicated to the bookshelf where she thought a biography about Mozart would be located.

"Aha, here's one!" James proclaimed pulling out an old book. He examined his treasure with pride.

"Did he really write his first symphony when he was only eight-years-old?" James asked.

"I'm not sure, dear," Sarah said wearing a bemused expression.

Alan paused and looked up from his book and then closed it.

"Yes, he did," he said kindly. "That was the symphony in E flat."

"Wow, it's neat that you know that!" said James.

Sarah and Alan glanced at one another. Their faces mirrored each other's expression of disbelief.

James reenacted every swish that Mary and James' brush-batons made. There was a light shining bright in his eyes. It was a light that Sarah had rarely seen before. "You know, Gran says that I'm going to get inspired like Mozart too someday," James said, his eyes alive and animated.

Alan gave James a warm, genuine and proud smile.

"You know, I bet you will."

It was a good night and enjoyed by all in the room.

...

Mary sat behind the desk in her bedroom exhausted from her and James' day of fun. She opened a drawer to put the book filled with loose leaf papers away. Mary caught a glimpse of herself in a small silver framed mirror that sat on her cluttered desk. She loved that simple mirror. It was a gift from a man who had a love for her like she was his own daughter. Charlie Carson would always have a place in her heart.

Her hair was an untidy mess again. Mary Crawley pushed the fallen pieces away from her face. After examining her features in the mirror for several moments the corners of her eyes crinkled from a sheepish smile. Her eyebrows rose with pleasant disbelief. It had been years since she had gawked at herself in a mirror.

"That boy," she uttered fondly.