First Drum Lesson

Soon House's interest had shifted to another photo. Actually, two photos.

In the first one, it was obviously Christmas. There was an over-decorated tree with toys and wrapping paper scattered about. Ginger was sitting in front of a box containing a drum set, beaming. Ariel was standing next to her, pale.

In the second photo, Ginger was behind the drums, her arms were a blur. Ariel was once again standing near her, her eyes squeezed shut, looking like it was taking all her effort to not cover her ears.

Ariel saw House smile at those pictures, and told him the story.

Ginger was eight. We were having a wonderful Christmas. She had opened all of "Santa's" gifts, and I opened the hastily made gifts from her.

Then my parents came over. I knew I was in trouble the second I saw Dad lugging in a huge present. As he brought it over to Ginger, I tried to get my mom to tell me what it was. I didn't have to wait long to find out.

In seconds, she had the paper off it and was screaming, "A DRUM SET!!!!" I remember that my mom looked at me and asked if I was alright because I paled. I nodded. My dad then told me to go stand with my daughter so he could take a picture.

Right before he snapped the picture, he said, "Oh, and I've arranged lessons straight away." I think I actually paled more.

Apparently the lessons would take place at home, after school, starting in two weeks. Ginger must have asked me when she'd start fifty times a day. Of course, dear old dad had set the drum set up onChristmas day.

Which meant that she was messing around with it when she wasn't asking about lessons.

By the time of her first lesson, I was relieved. No more questions. "Luckily," I had a meeting with a client at the same time, so my parents would be there just in case.

When I got home that evening, Ginger was still eating dinner. As soon she realized I was there, Ginger was next to me, begging to let her play for me.

I reluctantly agreed. So all of us went into the other room. Ginger sat down at the drums, positively beaming, before starting.

It was horrible. I knew how important that was for her, so I tried my best to look like I was enjoying it, or at the very least it wasn't bad.

Apparently my dad had to take a picture because of the face I was making. When Ginger stopped, my parents and I clapped. Then they said it was time for them to go.

Before they left, my dad was laughing, saying that she did great and my mom gave me a look that said "I'm so sorry, but I'm glad it's not me."

Ginger was so proud of herself. She loved playing drums. I knew I had to let her continue the lessons. She improved quite fast, and soon I truly enjoyed her performances.

"The first time she ever saw the picture my father took, I had to tell her that I was trying to keep myself from cheering because she sounded so good. Of course, when she was older she realized the true meaning of my face."

When she finished her story, Ariel looked at House, who looked back at her in return.

"Aren't you going to make some remark about this story?" she asked him.

He took a minute to think, before asking her, "How quickly?"