Chapter 19
Moose observed Elena’s quiet movements through the dimly lit farmhouse, noting how her presence brought a rare sense of calm amid the day’s mounting tension.
From his place at the kitchen table, he watched her approach Nancy’s door, the soft hum of Nancy’s singing drifting out—a small, soothing comfort in the quiet chaos.
In the corner of the room, Bear sat vigilantly watching the security monitors.
When motion appeared near the front door, Moose’s eyes caught the sharp focus in Bear’s, he was sizing up the delivery approaching their perimeter.
Bear quietly slung his rifle across his back and moved toward the door, hand hovering near his sidearm.
Seeing this, Moose rose smoothly from his seat to provide backup. He fell into position just inside the doorway, eyes scanning the perimeter as Bear opened the door cautiously.
Moments later, Bear returned carrying a large box, his expression easing into a slight smile.
“What’s this?” Moose asked, curiosity piqued.
“You’ll see,” Bear said with a grin.
Elena gently knocked, then paused just outside. “Hey, Nancy,” she said softly, her voice gentle but steady. “Would you like some hot tea or coffee?”
There was no response from Nancy, only a brief pause in the humming. Elena offered a soft smile before quietly turning away and heading back toward the kitchen.
She finished setting the steaming cup of tea beside Nancy and stepped out of the room. As she moved back through the quietly lit hallway, her eyes caught sight of a large box resting on the counter. She paused, curiosity sparking a hopeful smile.
“What’s that?” she murmured to herself, stepping closer to inspect the package.
Just then, Bear appeared nearby, catching her attention. “That came from my wife, Flora,” he said with a small grin. “She ordered it while we were here with Nancy—a keyboard for her. Said it might give her another outlet for her music.”
Elena’s smile deepened with gratitude. “That’s so thoughtful.” She looked back toward the box, hopeful.
Moose, who had been watching quietly, finally asked, “Those journals she keeps—you know what’s in them?”
Elena settled into a familiar rhythm as she began to explain, her tone lowered with reverence and weight.
“Well, you know that Nancy was never diagnosed until her recent hospitalization—that’s when they discovered autism as well as her musical gift.
But long before that, she’d been keeping papers filled with songs, compositions, scraps of music.
Those journals hold hundreds of her songs—both the music and her words. ”
Moose looked at Elena in awe, his brow furrowing with curiosity. “All of that is music?”
She shrugged lightly, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Yes. And I started doing research online after I began caring for Nancy. I wanted to understand her better, what her talents were, and what made her tick.”
Moose nodded slowly. “So, there’s more to it than just her humming?”
She nodded softly. “Yeah. When I came to care for her, I found those notes and realized she’s been writing for years—a true prodigy in her own way.”
She paused, reverent. “At first, it wasn’t obvious, but the more I looked, the clearer it became. Nancy’s been creating music for years; she has a natural talent.”
Moose’s expression softened, understanding deepening. “No wonder those journals mean everything to her.”
“They do,” Elena said softly, her voice carrying a hint of uncertainty.
“Nancy’s autism comes with some OCD tendencies—she’s really particular about her journals and how everything’s arranged.
It’s not just about stuff being neat; it’s about feeling in control and safe. Those notebooks are like her anchor.”
Moose reclined slightly, the weight of the conversation pressing down on him. His jaw tightened as he absorbed Elena’s words. “We have to protect that world she’s created.”
Elena nodded back. “We do. Nancy’s got to have a part in organizing her notebooks. It’s not just neatness; she needs that control, that sense of order. If we mess with her system, it’s like we’re taking away her safe space.”
Moose’s eyes darkened with understanding. “Absolutely. We keep her anchored, no matter what.”
In the silence that settled afterward, Moose’s gaze softened. He reached out, his hand extending gently toward Elena. For a moment, he hesitated, struggling with the invisible barrier of years between them. Then, summoning a quiet courage, he looked her in the eyes.
“You have made a huge difference in my Mom’s life in such a short amount of time.”
His voice was gentle, laden with something unspoken—an awkward, tender hope that maybe, despite everything, there was a place for him here too.