Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
I still had no clue how she’d managed this trip with her limited means, but I didn’t care. She’d made it and that was what mattered.
My relationship with her had steadily improved over the last six months. We’d taken it really slow by starting with a couple of phone calls here and there. Our first big test had come at Thanksgiving time and we’d both passed with flying colors. My mother had, not surprisingly, been missing my father, but cooking for so many people had been a good distraction. Christmas had been a quieter affair, and Dallas and I had ended up inviting her to come to our house.
Our house.
I wasn’t even sure when I’d officially moved in with Dallas. It had just happened after my father’s funeral. I hadn’t even noticed until my mother had stopped by one day with the boxes she’d been storing at the house. She’d decided to put the house up for sale shortly after Christmas so she could move into a senior living community. When she’d brought me the boxes, I’d stupidly asked her what I was supposed to do with them. She’d patted me on the cheek and said, “You’ve got that great big house, Nolan. I’m sure you can find some room in it somewhere.” When Dallas had appeared a few minutes later, I’d still been standing in the driveway, boxes in hand, staring in the direction my mother had driven off in. When I’d asked Dallas if we were living together, he’d merely chuckled, taken one of the boxes from me, and dropped a kiss on my nose.
And that had been that.
“A big thank you to Mr. Nolan Grainger for that incredible performance of Paganini’s Caprice No. 4 in C minor” the conductor said into a microphone as he walked on stage. The audience began applauding again, so I quickly did another round of bowing and then nodded my thanks to the audience, then the conductor. Just as I was about to walk past the man, he grabbed my arm.
“For those of you who’ve been following Mr. Grainger’s story, you’ll know how fortunate we are that he decided to continue to share his gift with us. I’m extremely pleased that he let the London Symphony Orchestra be a part of his return to our little world. But I’m even more pleased that we have the opportunity to be a small part of his next journey.”
I glanced at the man in confusion, since I had no clue what he was talking about. I looked up in the balcony to see if Dallas had returned, but his seat was still empty. Worry went through me. What if he wasn’t feeling well? He’d completely recovered from the surgery six months earlier, but what if something else was troubling him?
I didn’t even notice the audience had stopped applauding until I heard a few hushed whispers drift up onto the stage. I saw that most everyone was looking to my right, so I glanced that way and completely froze at the sight of Dallas walking across the stage. The conductor moved aside as Dallas reached me. I shook my head as I looked from him to the audience. He looked nervous.
I was completely clueless.
“Dallas, what...what?” was all I managed to get out.
“Hi, baby,” he said. His speech had improved dramatically over the past several months, especially since he’d been working so hard with his speech therapist. But to the average person, it still sounded like a harsh whisper and I knew it still tended to embarrass him.
“Hi,” I croaked as he leaned in to kiss my cheek.
He stepped back, only to reach for the conductor’s microphone, which the man promptly handed over.
What?
“Nolan, I have something I want to ask you.”
As soon as he said the words, I began to cry. I nearly dropped my violin – the violin Dallas had given me – but the conductor thankfully grabbed it and my bow before stepping away again.
“Yes,” I said, and the audience laughed. Dallas did too. I clapped my hand over my mouth. I lifted it long enough to say, “Sorry.”
Dallas took my hand and pulled it to his lips for a kiss. The audience was dead silent as he began speaking. “Nolan, the last few times I got my voice back, I didn’t care if I lost it again because no one was listening anyway. There was no one to hear me. Not until the cute, skinny boy who played a mean violin and that I couldn’t keep my eyes off of returned to me as a beautiful, kind-hearted man who gave more than he was given. Who loved more than he was loved. Who listened more than he spoke. As much as I love being able to speak to you, I don’t fear the day when my voice may once again start to fade. Because I know you’ll hear me, Nolan. I know you’ll hear me no matter what. Just like I will always hear you and I will always love you. Always and forever. I know you said yes already, but I need to hear it again. Will you marry me, Nolan?”