Music of the Knight

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I’d been right. Lorraine Knight was the antithesis of plain. In her early sixties—classy and badass all at once, she was a very attractive woman with piercing dark eyes and a long Roman nose. Her hair was jet black, cut in the fashion of Cleopatra, and she didn’t wear much makeup. She was dressed in a plain white T-shirt and black jeans. I could see where Lou had gotten her attitude, but physically, they were different. From the pictures I’d glimpsed of Al Knight, Lou and Louie looked a lot more like their father.

Lorraine was tall and thin, with a Mediterranean skin tone.

Now if anyone would have told me that she and I would be sharing a bottle of wine after only meeting half an hour ago, I wouldn’t have believe them.

But here we were, in her fabulously decorated basement office, sitting on her French canape, drinking a Bordeaux. Lou had gone back upstairs to help out her brother with a last minute rush of customers.

“So, you’re not a psychologist,” Lorraine said, curling her long leg under her.

I prided myself on not being too intimidated by people’s looks or social status, but this woman flustered me a little. “No,” I said, after taking a sip of my wine, “I’m not a psychologist or a social worker.”

“And so how do people react to that?”

“You mean—why would they tell me, some random stranger with no credentials, or my volunteers who are mostly students, their most private thoughts or problems?”

Lorraine nodded, giving me a musing look. “Yeah.” She popped a grape into her mouth. “Exactly.”

“Because our service is completely anonymous and punctual. There’s no follow up. We don’t offer therapy or guidance at all. We don’t give out advice or even ask questions. And mostly…because we listen to people that no one listens to anymore.”

She frowned, clearly mulling this over, and set her glass down on the curved-legged side table. “So you just listen. That’s it.”

“That’s it. You’d be surprised what happens when you allow people, people who have been alone for a long time, to express themselves without interrupting them, judging the content or taking charge of the conversation.” I stared into my glass for a moment and looked up. “Magic happens. Really. People just naturally come to their own conclusions. Find their own solutions.”

“And you mentioned before that you started out as a volunteer.” She seemed genuinely interested. “What brought you to the field?”

“My family are all talkers.”

She studied my face. “I see. So, growing up, you did a lot of listening, I suppose.”

“Yeah.”

“My son’s like that.”

“Louie?”

“No, Lei…I guess you haven’t met him yet.” She cleared her throat and sipped her wine. Again, the mention of Lei had caused a shadow to move over her features. What was it about this man that seemed to make them tense up?

“No,” I said, putting my glass down. “I haven’t been introduced to him yet. I think he was in the back with your husband.”

“Right…Uh, so seriously, how did you get into listening for a living?”

“Hmm. Well, after I’d dropped out of university, I was sort of drifting between jobs, and one day I signed up for a non-violent communication class, and then a friend of mine, who’s a nurse, introduced me to active listening.” I grabbed a few grapes off the plate between us. “Long story short, I started volunteering in hospitals, visiting patients, chatting with them, playing chess or doing macramé with them—whatever. And then slowly, I was pulled towards the cancer ward, and after more training, I started accompanying people in the final stages of their life.”

“The dying,” she said softly, casting her eyes down.

“Yes. And that’s when I understood the power of presence. The art of listening.” Whenever I thought of all those men and women, fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, who’d allowed me the privilege of witnessing their final months, and all the lucid, amazing moments we’d shared in the palliative care unit, I felt an immense gratitude to them. “It was an incredible experience.”

“And how old were you when you did this?”

“I was twenty-four. I did that for a few years and then struck out on my own with my own active listening non-profit group.”

“How do you earn a salary?” She patted my hand. “Sorry, the accountant in me.”

“I—I beg for a government fund every year. Grovel, really. And then after I’ve paid Good Ear’s bills, website, phone, and the psychologist who trains my new volunteers twice a year, I have enough left over for my living expenses.”

Lorraine inhaled sharply. “I’m not easily impressed, but I am floored by you right now.”

My own mother had never been this interested or enthusiastic. “Oh, God. Well, no, it’s nothing—thank you,” I babbled, hoping I wasn’t blushing. “I just found something I was good at and went with it. Sort of like you all, right?”

Lorraine stared into my eyes and I felt as though we’d met many times before. There was a connection between us. “Now I know why Lou likes you so much.”

“Oh, she’s great. And I wish I could give her more hours, but right—”

“No, we need her at the store!”

“Mom,” Lou yelled somewhere in the stairs. “We’re closing up!”

Lorraine checked her gold watch. “Oh, wow. It’s already nine-thirty.” She gently tapped my knee. “It was a real pleasure talking with you, Micah. You’ll come by again, right? Very soon.”

“Oh, absolutely.” I stood and looked around at her elegant office. “And by the way, this place is gorgeous.”

“Thank you. I wanted it to be my own little Parisian seizieme arrondissement apartment.” Lorraine gathered the wine bottle and glasses. “Tell them I’ll be right up.” She leaned in closer and kissed both my cheeks. She smelled like Chanel Number Five. “Take care, love,” she said, walking to her chic desk. “And don’t let Lou boss you around.”

“I’ll do my best,” I said, a little flushed. I realized I hadn’t eaten anything but a handful of grapes and the wine had gone to my head. I was tipsy and starving.

Upstairs, Louie was behind the counter, stuffing money into a deposit envelope and Lou was busy on the computer. “Oh, there you are,” she said, glancing up. “Did you enjoy yourself down there?”

I dug my hands into my jean pockets, smiling brightly. I had. I really had. This family seemed great.

Louie stretched his arms. “Hey, Lou, I gotta pick up Kelly at the restaurant, so tell Dad to put this in the safe and I’ll swing by the bank tomorrow.”

“But tomorrow’s Saturday.”

Louie walked around the counter and tapped his sister’s head with the deposit bag. “They’re open on Saturday. Jesus, Wolfgang, do you work here or not?”

Wolfgang? Was that Lou’s nickname or real name?

But as much as I enjoyed the Knights’ company, I needed to go home and eat something. “Well, Lou, I’m gonna get going.”

Behind the counter, a door opened and Al stepped out. He went straight for the cooler and poured a glass of water. He didn’t say a word to anyone and disappeared into the back store again, shutting the door behind him.

I caught the worried look Lou and her brother exchanged, and then Louie coughed and furrowed his brow, glancing at the closed door. There was tension in the air. And I knew it had something to do with their brother.

“Sugar bear, what are still doing here?” Lorraine was walking up to Louie. She grabbed the bag from his hand. “Kelly just texted me. She’s been trying to reach you.”

“Oh, shit.” Louie’s handsome face flushed red. “I gotta go!” He kissed his mother’s head and bolted out of the door. “See you tomorrow!”

Lou leaned on the glass display counter and chuckled. “Kelly’s my brother’s very pregnant wife,” she explained.

“Oh, wow. So you’re gonna be an aunt then.”

Lou glanced over at her mother. “Yep.”

I turned to Lorraine. “Your first grandchild. Congratulations.”

“Thank you…” Lorraine hesitated and then went around the counter. “Are we all done?”

Had I said something wrong? Did people congratulate grandparents or not?

“Um, Dad and Lei are still in there,” Lou whispered.

Lorraine went straight to the back store door. But the door opened and Al stood in the way. They exchanged a few murmured words I couldn’t make out, and suddenly, I felt out of place. There were obviously having a private moment as a family. I took a step back and tried to catch Lou’s attention.

She gave me a vacant look and waved. “I’ll text you,” she said with a small smile.

“Okay,” I whispered, but when I tried opening the door, I couldn’t. There was keypad there and I needed the code. I looked over my shoulder at the counter. “Excuse—” but I stopped. Because behind the front counter, Al was speaking softly to a tall, dark-haired man, who I knew was Lei. Al was holding Lei’s face inside his hands and Lorraine was close, rubbing his shoulder. From where I stood, I could plainly see that Lei had been crying, but the hurt in his eyes only made him more beautiful. I flicked my gaze to the floor, ashamed of myself for checking him out when he was obviously very upset. I desperately wanted to leave the store and respect their privacy, but I needed that code. “Lou,” I tried again, as quietly as I could.

At the sound of my voice, Lei looked over his father’s shoulder and started a little. “Oh, I thought we were closed,” he said. Though he’d spoken softly, his smooth and textured voice carried all the way to me.

“This is Micah,” Lou said. “Remember, I told you about him. My boss.”

Lei’s eyes were still full of heartbreak. “Right…hi.”

“Hello,” I stammered, taking a few steps forward. “I was trying to leave, but I couldn’t get the—”

“Yeah, you need a code for that,” Lei said, breaking away from his parents. I noticed how relieved Lorraine and Al seemed. I’d brought their son a distraction—something to take his mind away from whatever they’d been discussing. As Lei breached the small distance between the counter and where I stood, I got a better look at him. He was dressed in fitted dark blue jeans and a gray T-shirt that hugged the expanse of his chest. Physically, he was a lot like his mother. But because he wore his black hair parted to the side and away from his face, his eyes, which were much like Lorraine’s eyes, stood out even more. When he looked at me, I saw that they were the color of dark roasted coffee, and the saddest eyes I’d ever seen. He stood close to the door. “Don’t peek or we’ll have to take you downstairs and erase your memory.” He punched a few keys in the pad and without a smile, stepped out of the store.

For a short moment, my gaze followed him. I usually tried not to be superficial and judge men solely on their looks, but he was a looker, all right, and part of me was already lured by him.

“Bye, Micah!” Lou yelled, shocking me back into reality. “So f*****g glad you finally came!”

Lorraine blew me a kiss, and Al, who’d I’d yet to properly meet, saluted me. He was a beefy guy with a jovial face and a head full of thick brown hair. Louie was his father’s spitting image. Al wore a black sweater with the store’s logo on it, which was a musical staff curled around a sword. “Come back soon, kid,” he said.

Kid. I kind of liked that for some reason. “Nice meeting you all,” I said, stepping out.

Outside, Lei was standing on the sidewalk, a little away from the door, smoking a cigarette. He seemed completely engrossed in his thoughts, barely aware of the people incessantly strolling by him. I wondered if I should simply let him be or politely say goodbye. I hesitated a few seconds, but his dark brooding energy was magnetic and I couldn’t help nearing him a little. “Uh, I’ll see you,” I said, tipping my head.

“Yes, of course.” He looked up from the sidewalk and frowned. His eyes were so dark, that even in the sunlight, the pupil was barely discernible from the iris. “Michael, right?”

That stung a bit, but people often made that mistake in the beginning. “It’s Mi—”

“No, wait,” he quickly said, before I could correct him. “Micah.” He shook his head. “Sorry…Distracted.”

“Oh, please, no, it’s fine.”

He eyed me over, his gaze turning gentle—almost tender. “Nice meeting you.” He touched one of the leather bracelets he wore on his wrists. “Enjoy your weekend.”

“Thanks,” I sputtered, stepping back. “You, too.”

As I made my way through the crowd on the sidewalk, I suddenly felt compelled to look over my shoulder at him. Lei was still standing there, a motionless figure lost in mass of moving people, but his stare, both haunted and seductive, had followed me.

I felt it on my shoulders all the way to the corner, before I disappeared from his view.