Bleeding Heart

The following Monday was a wet and cold day when Suzanne arrived for work. She could see that most of the furniture had been placed, personal treasures arranged, new kitchen appliances installed, rugs lain, and paintings hung.

The painting over the fireplace, was this the “master” as Mrs. Pallor called him? She recognized the big, black opal on the right hand of this intriguing character. Suzanne looked around to see if Mrs. Pallor was around; she was not. She drew closer to the painting. What a handsome face. A faint scowl, such an intense gaze, the makings of a grin, gently tussled hair. She looked closer, he’s a dead ringer for Hugh Jackman! She didn’t care what Mrs. Pallor said, she was going meet this guy!

She started for the kitchen when she heard music. It sounded like someone was playing a piano. The music had a slow tempo, it was melodic and sad. It was Gymnopédie by Erik Satie. She stood for a time, just listening. She was compelled to follow the sound but felt unable to move. The music rose and fell. She closed her eyes and let the music guide her. The vibrations of the strings resonated in her body. Suddenly, it stopped. The piano then struck a high, sweet chord. The piano player was playing Clair de Lune by Claude Debussy. It sounded to her like water running over rocks; up and down, up and down. Suzanne again moved bit by bit, ever closer to the sound. Her heart quickened as the sound became louder, clearer.

The music led her to the library and an intoxicating fragrance. There was a man sitting at a baby grand piano, gracefully caressing the keys. She could see the large, black opal ring on his right hand. He seemed not to know she was there; so, affianced with his music. Suzanne bit her lip, trying to gain control of her now quavering body.

He played until the end of the song. Then he stopped. He sat very erect and looked out toward the rain streaked window. He put his hands in his lap and turned towards her. It was him. Mr. Cojocaru, the Hugh Jackman look alike. She stood there, suspended.

“Miss Henson. We finally meet. I am Beniamin Cojocaru, but you may call me Ben. Please, come closer.”

Suzanne took uncertain steps as she approached him. “Ben,” she heard herself say.

Ben began to rise from the piano bench as she came nearer. Suzanne felt his draw. She did not leave his gaze. When she was right in front of him, he took her hand gently raised it to his lips. His mouth was hot and moist. The kiss was so prolonged that time seemed to stand still.

“Enchanted,” he said as he finally released her hand.

“You know who I am, then.”

“Yes. Mrs. Pallor keeps me abreast of all business in this house.”

“She said I was to call you Mr. Cojocaru and that I probably would not meet you in person.”

The left corner of his mouth turned upward. “Mrs. Pallor informs me. I do not answer to Mrs. Pallor.”

“So, you like music, Miss Henson?”

“Oh, please call me Suzanne. Or even Suzy.” She felt her cheeks redden with her rising fascination with Ben.

“I do like music… Ben. I have never heard the music you were playing. It was so beautiful.”

The storm outside began to build, wind wailed through the trees, low rolls of thunder grew to piercing cracks with the now attacking rain.

Suzanne felt serene yet elated in his company. He invited her to sit at the piano with him. They sat side by side and Ben began to play. She noticed a beautifully sculpted bronze apple displayed atop of the piano, it had two large puncture marks in it. And then, he stopped playing and reached around behind her placing her hands on the keys.

“Your hands are really quite exquisite, Suzanne. Play with me.” He pronounced her name “Suz-ah-neh” and she immediately liked the sound.

“I played a little as a child,” she began.

“Just… feel, Suzanne.”

She felt herself permitting more of her trust in this extraordinary man. She laid her hands on the keyboard and faintly began to play. She just kept moving her hands, up and down the keyboard. It sounded strange but wonderful. Ben had his left hand behind her back, resting on the piano bench; his right was lightly caressing her right hand as she played. His face was so near to hers she could feel his breath on her cheek.

Abruptly, the bewitchment was shattered with a remarkably loud and close snap of greenish light. Suzanne spun around to see Mrs. Pallor standing in the doorway of the library; her sickly complexion glowing blue from the lightening. Her expression was severe and censuring. Then it came, the deafening boom of thunder. It rolled, and it rolled.

Suzanne jumped to her feet and nearly knocked over the bench. Ben rose and steadied her. She liked the way his hands felt on her. She wanted him to keep touching her but the look on Mrs. Pallor’s face jolted her back to reality and a feeling of embarrassment.

“Don’t you have duties to attend to, Miss Henson?” screeched Mrs. Pallor. “I told you, Mr. Cojocaru is a very busy man and should not be disturbed.”

“Nonsense, Mrs. Pallor. Suzanne and I were just getting acquainted. You seem to have forgotten your manners and failed to introduce us.”

Mrs. Pallor immediately lowered her head. “Yes, Mr. Cojocaru. I have been neglectful in my duties of etiquette. I will recoil to your wishes in future, Maestru.”

“Suzanne, I see you are needed. We will meet again tomorrow for… another lesson. Same time, draga.” With that, he kissed her hand and she left him there; that captivating, unbelievable man.

As she walked behind Mrs. Pallor, she began to feel something new; something like power. And what was it he called her? Draga? She didn’t know what it meant but she liked it. She liked it a lot.