Chapter 5 - The Stolen Violin
I opened the door immediately. ""Elise, darling. Come inside.""
She stepped past me into the warm hallway, her boots dragging heavily across the floorboards. She didn't put down her violin case; she held it against her torso like a shield, her knuckles white. I led her into the kitchen, hung her damp jacket on the peg, and pulled out a chair for her.
""Let me put the kettle on,"" I said gently, keeping my tone steady and calm. ""You look frozen, sweetheart.""
""Grandma, please don't be mad at me,"" she choked out, her voice cracking into a ragged sob. She collapsed onto the kitchen chair, burying her face into her arms on the table.
I walked over, wrapping my arms around her trembling shoulders, holding her just as I had when she was eight years old and had scraped her knee on the concrete patio. ""I am not mad at you, Elise. I could never be mad at you. Take a breath and tell me what’s happening.""
She cried for several minutes, the raw, frightened tears of a teenager who had spent the last seventy-two hours inside a domestic warzone. I stroked her hair, letting the storm pass, until her breathing slowed to ragged hiccups. I handed her a clean linen handkerchief and placed a mug of warm honey tea in front of her.
""Mom and Dad have been screaming at each other non-stop,"" Elise whispered, wiping her red cheeks. ""I've never heard them yell like that. Mom was throwing dishes in the kitchen yesterday. Dad slept in his work truck on Monday night.""
""I'm so sorry you had to witness that, darling,"" I said softly, sitting beside her.
""Grandma... Mom told me that you canceled your card because you hated our family,"" Elise said, looking at me with large, wounded eyes. ""She said you were jealous of my music, and that you cut off the money so I couldn't go to the national youth orchestra auditions in Chicago next month.""
The sheer audacity of Natalie's deceit took my breath away for a fleeting second, but I kept my composure. ""Is that what she told you?""
""Yes,"" Elise sniffled. ""She said you never supported us, and that you were trying to punish Dad by ruining my future. But then... then yesterday, Dad screamed at her. He pulled out a giant stack of papers and threw them all over the living room rug. He told Mom she was a liar and a thief. He showed me the bill for Prairie Ridge.""
Elise looked down at her hands, fresh tears spilling over her lashes. ""You paid the sixty-two hundred dollars. You paid the entire tuition, Grandma. The whole summer program.""
""Yes, Elise. I did. With your grandfather's savings.""
""Mom made me believe... she told me she took extra shifts at the flooring company to pay for it,"" Elise sobbed, her voice trembling with intense guilt. ""She told me she and Dad went without new clothes for six months so I could study with Maestro Bennett. At the concert on Saturday, when she gave that speech about parental sacrifice... I believed her! I hugged her and thanked her, and I barely even said thank you to you! I thought you just showed up like a guest!""
""You had no reason to doubt your mother, Elise,"" I said, taking her trembling hands in mine. ""You were sixteen years old, focused on your music. A child should never have to audit their parents' honesty.""
""That's not all, Grandma,"" Elise said, her voice dropping to a frightened whisper. She glanced down at the black leather violin case sitting on the floor beside her. ""This morning, while Dad was at work, Mom came into my room. She took my violin case out of my closet. She said she found a buyer online—some collector in Lincoln. She said since you 'stole their money,' she had to sell my professional instrument to pay this month's mortgage so we wouldn't be evicted!""
A cold fury ignited in the pit of my stomach. Natalie hadn't offered to sell her designer purses, her expensive jewelry, or her leased luxury vehicle. Her first instinct was to strip her talented daughter of the very instrument that gave her a future, using it as an emotional hostage to justify her own financial bankruptcy.
""Where was your father?"" I asked, my voice dangerously calm.
""He was on a job site across the county. He didn't know,"" Elise cried. ""Mom told me the buyer was coming to our house at five o'clock today with cash. I couldn't let her do it, Grandma! This violin was the one Maestro Bennett helped me select! If I lose it, I lose my seat in the orchestra. So during third-period study hall, I walked out of school, ran two miles to my house, grabbed my case from under Mom's bed where she hid it, and took the city bus here.""
She gripped my arm, terror in her eyes. ""Please don't let her take it, Grandma. Please don't let her sell my music.""
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I stood up, walked over to the closet, and retrieved the master key to Leonard’s locked workshop in the basement.
""Nobody is touching that violin, Elise,"" I said with unyielding conviction. ""Put your case in the basement safe behind your grandfather's workbench. Then sit back down and finish your tea. Your mother is about to find out that there are lines you do not cross.""
