The next Saturday

Eric spent the week following his visit to Sam's house on Saturday reflecting on his time with her and on his reasons for leaving the way that he had. He realized that he had an inferiority complex, caused almost entirely by his parents favoritism of his sister, and that the fear that he had felt the entire time he had been with Sam had been the product of it. Thinking back over his time with her, what kept appearing in his mind was the image of Sam's face when she had stopped him at the door and asked him if he was going to come back. He had nothing to fear from her, in her eyes he had seen the same fear and panic that he had been feeling, and by leaving the way he had he had brought her worst fear to life and hurt her. The more he thought about what he had done to her the more sick with himself he felt and the more resolved he became to return to Sam's house on Saturday and make amends for his cowardly and hurtful flight.

Sam spent the week trying to understand what she had done that had caused Eric to run away the way that he had and the only thing that she could think of was that she had failed to notice how anxious he was and that his anxiety had risen to where running away was the only thing he could think of doing. She hoped he would return so they could try again but having already experienced such highs and lows she had to be careful and temper her hope with the very real possibility that Eric would decide the anxiety was simply too much and not come back.

Eric returned to Sam's house and despite his determination to ensure that this visit went well there was residual awkwardness from the previous week that hung densely in the air. Worried that he was going to run away again if the choking awkwardness wasn't alleviated Sam attempted to get them talking by asking him some of the questions that she had wanted to ask him last week but hadn't because she thought it was too soon and to her relief and surprise Eric was entirely candid with her. She asked him about his mother's drinking and he told her that it had been going on for as long as he could remember; she asked him about his father and Eric told her that he had been a teacher for twenty five years until a nervous breakdown forced him to retire. When she asked him about his sister Eric was reticent and Sam could tell that his sister was a sore topic that had to be left for later.

"I could teach you, if you want," Sam said to get them talking again.

"What do you mean?"

"The piano, you keep looking at it, if you want to learn I can teach you."

Sam had noticed this tendency of Eric's to look over at the piano the previous week and had been preparing to make this offer to him.

"It's probably too late for me."

"No it's not, plus you have the hands for it, so you'll pick it up quite quickly.”

“What do you mean I have the hands for it?” Eric asked, lifting his right hand and examining it to understand what she was saying.

To illustrate her point, Sam got up from her seat, sat next to Eric, and took the hand he was examining into both of hers.

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“You have thin wrists and long, slender fingers; they’re musician’s hands,” she said softly, only realizing when she was done talking the position she’d put them in.

It was the first time that they had touched and the enormity of the moment caused them both to freeze. They looked into each other's eyes and recognized that the moment that they were sharing was perfect for them to kiss, but after spending too much time thinking about whether it was too soon the moment passed and they were left to figure out how they moved past it.

"You can really teach me?" Eric withdrew his hand from Sam asked.

"Sure."

"Okay then."

Eric's first impulse had been to decline Sam's offer but accepting it was the only thing he could think of to move them on from the awkwardness of the kiss that hadn't materialized. Sam got up from the sofa and headed for the piano room followed by Eric. She opened up the seat on her piano bench to look inside it for the beginner's manuals that her father had used to teach her and while she was doing that Eric took the opportunity to have a closer look at the books on the shelves. There was one book in particular caught his attention that he removed it from the shelf and began paging through.

"Have you read this?" He asked Sam, who was still searching in vain for the beginner's manuals. She turned to look at the book that Eric was referring to and, having surmised that there could be no way Eric was religious, felt no need to be careful with her answer.

"Yeah, I have."

The book that Eric was holding was The Origin of Species by Charles Darwin.

"Have you read it?" Sam added.

"No, but I've always wanted to."

"You can borrow it if you'd like and read it at home."

"Thanks, but I don't have the time."

Sam had instantly recognized Eric's intelligence when they'd met and had been wondering since he'd told her the previous week that he didn't read why he was seemingly doing nothing to nurture his intellect, and now he was telling her that it was because he didn't have the time, leading her to wonder what he was spending his time doing. She didn't ask him about it, deciding that, like the topic of his sister, it was something she should wait until they knew each other better to ask him about.

"What's this?" Eric asked, picking up one of the pieces of paper that Sam had removed from the bench and placed on the floor. It was sheet music paper with the notes written in pencil.

"That's just some music that I wrote," Sam answered bashfully.

"You compose?"

"Only a little, and it's very amateurish."

"Would you play it for me?"

"Erm, okay, let me just put all of these things back."

Eric returned The Origin of Species to the shelf from which he had retrieved it and leaned against the doorway to watch Sam play. He had largely shed his fear of Sam being too good for him. Her intellect and erudition no longer provoked fear, but rather awe. The piece that Sam chose to play for him was the piece that she had the most confidence in, a nocturne that she had written months ago. Eric stood in the doorway and watched her playing and found it hard to believe that someone so young could be so brilliant. Never again would he hurt her by running away from her. Sitting at the piano and playing the gentle piece that she had written, it was as if the music was a reflection of her, something so delicate and beautiful that just the thought of doing something that would cause it the slightest bit of harm was enough to cause him distress. He didn't want to leave, he didn't want to be separated from her, he wanted to stay with her for as long as he could and enjoy the feeling that he got from being with her that he was feeling for the first time. Sam, when she was done playing, looked up at Eric looking at her from the doorway and saw in his face that he wasn't entertaining any thoughts of running away. They had found the trust that they had been searching for.