"Okay, I guess, it's still pretty weird though."
"You know, you will never find a better woman than Sarah."
"That's why I'm still here."
Jackson collected his painting and glass. As he made his way for the stairs, he stopped and glanced back at Connor. "I think you're good for her."
He went back and forth with the canvas from his bedroom to the music room, unsure where to hang it. He finally settled on the mantle across from his bed, deciding to buy something for the music room on Friday. He sat up in bed a long time picturing Elisabeth as she created the oil. He thought, this is definitely the right spot for it.
He woke at around 7:00 a.m. from the dream again. What the hell does it mean? And why doesn't it ever change?
***
Jackson found Sarah sitting in the drawing room sipping coffee. "Where's Skippy?"
"He has an appointment. Would you mind terribly if he joined us tonight?"
The full moon had always been a time that Sarah and Jackson spent together. They cursed the wolves, but both enjoyed their time being prisoners in their own home.
"No, not at all, I assumed, now that he knows, he'd be here. I planned to work on some music tonight anyway."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
Sarah felt their relationship changing. She knew it was for the better. Jackson had never been so happy, and at ease, and she loved Connor with all her heart, yet she was a little sad, feeling they were growing apart. She smiled, thinking of the many times they played "Wingman" for each other and all the times he had nursed her through heartache.
That evening, Sarah made a pasta dinner and they all chatted amiably. After dinner, Connor helped Jackson put up the shutters, then they sat down for a drink. Jackson started a fire, stood staring into it for a few minutes then said, "I'm going up, goodnight kids."
Connor and Sarah were cuddling in front of the fire. Sarah said, "Listen, can you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
With her sharp hearing, she could make out the piano, but Connor heard nothing. "It's so beautiful, almost haunting."
"What?" Connor turned to Sarah. Her face wet with tears. "Sarah, what's the matter?"
"He is composing something for Elisabeth."
***
Jackson went out for a drive in the morning. He struggled, resisting the temptation to go to Elisabeth's. He did call her, nerves plaguing him again. When the call went straight to voicemail, his heart sank. He left a message, saying he wanted to make sure she got the address and still planned on coming tonight.