Celia shrugged again and smiled wryly. "Something's wrong – there's very little doubt about that," she murmured.
"I believe it's the theme," Janice said, walking toward the piano. "I'm sure it is. Whistle it for me."
Celia blinked at her, then turned and began rustling through the sheets of music.
"No, don't read the music. Forget the music. Look away from it and whistle the theme."
Celia giggled and shrugged, then she puckered her lips and frowned in thought as she began whistling. The thread of music coming from her lips went up and down, then she stopped whistling and raised her eyebrows. "Like that?"
Janice nodded firmly and gathered up the sheets of music then she walked away from the piano and riffled through them. "Again. Whistle it again."
Celia whistled it again, more confidently this time, and Janice walked around the room and looked at the sheets of music as she nodded her head in rhythm with Celia's whistling. Celia finished and fell silent, and Janice smiled slightly as she looked at the music and nodded.
"What is it? Let me in on the secret, Janice."
Janice looked at her and chuckled, then walked toward her. "I said you didn't have a firm grip on the theme, and I didn't realize how right I was. Look, here's the theme – right here." She sat down on the bench by Celia, spreading out a couple of the sheets on the board, and she pointed to the notes with her left hand as she chorded them on the keyboard with her right. "But that isn't what you were whistling. Here's what you were whistling." She chorded the piano again in a slightly different tempo, striking a couple of notes in the series which were subtly different and seemed to lend a more lively, brighter tone to the series. "See? It's different."
"But it couldn't be…" Celia murmured, her voice fading away as she looked at the music, frowning, then she shook her head. "I've made a mistake somewhere, or I've changed it…"
"Your mistake was in not clarifying your theme. In your mind before you began," Janice said sliding off the bench and walking to the cabinet against the wall. She opened the door and took out several sheets of lined music paper and a couple of pencils, then came back to the piano. "Let's begin over. Put down the theme, then work in an introduction later when you see how the variations are going to turn out."
Celia nodded, taking a pencil, and she wrote in the notes as Janice chorded the theme again with one hand. Janice finished and sat back, then Celia clamped the pencil between her teeth and leaned over the keyboard, tentatively putting her fingers on the keys. "OK, now," she murmured around the pencil. "I'll run through a series of variations in flats and sharps, and then link them up…"
Janice smiled quietly to herself in satisfaction as she slid off the bench. She went into the kitchen and put a kettle of water on the stove to heat and she listened to the piano as she took cups and saucers from a cabinet. There was a trill of music from the piano, then a burst of full, melodic harmony as Celia began using both hands in constructing a bridge between two of the variations. The next variation was spontaneous, springing to life under Celia's hands, then Janice could sense that the music was finally beginning to quiver to life, gathering the strength and vitality to surge and leap forward with its own impetus. The piano began thundering in the living room, and Janice smiled to herself again as she dropped tea bags in the cups and poured in the hot water.
"Time for a break," Janice called over the sound of the piano as she put the tray on the coffee table. "Come on and have a cup of tea, and it'll give you a moment to back up and look at what you've done so far."
Celia looked at her and smiled, then gathered the scribbled sheets of music into a stack and dropped them on top of the piano as she got up from the bench. "It's done, for all practical purposes," she smiled, walking toward the couch. "It's moving by itself now, and I'll be able to finish it in less than an hour." She patted her head. "It's all in here now – every note of it."
Janice dropped her eyes to the tray as Celia got up from the bench; she had found the shorts and skimpy cotton pullover unsettling when Celia had come in. Her legs were long, smooth, and beautifully shaped, and her breasts jutted straight out against the tight material of the pullover. "What do you like in your tea?" she asked in a murmur.
"Just sugar please," Celia replied, sitting down on the couch. "Janice, I don't know how to thank you – it's been really wonderful of you to help me this way."
Janice stirred the tea and handed it to her, then sat down and picked up her own cup. "You really did it yourself dear, which is the way it should be. Sooner or later you would have found the problem with the theme yourself."
Celia nodded and looked across the room absently, thinking, then she smiled. "Now I'm wondering what to call it. Do you have any suggestions?"
"I'm rather given to austere titles. I think I'd call it 'Sonatina for Piano'."
Celia's smile faded and she looked down at the floor, sipping her tea. "I like short titles," she said, a tense note suddenly in her voice as she put the cup on the coffee table. "I'd like to call it 'Janice' but that would be presumptuous of me, wouldn't it?"
Janice smiled and shook her head, glancing at Celia. "Not at all, Celia. I'd be flattered. But someone might… misunderstand."
Celia flushed and shook her head, rubbing her hands together nervously. "No," she said quietly. "If they managed to figure out why I wanted to name it after you, they'd understand perfectly how I feel." Her face flushed darker and she cleared her throat, pushing her hair back from the side of her face with one hand as she looked away. "And having said that, I guess I'd better leave. I've made you mad at me now after you're being really nice to me, but I couldn't help saying that…"
"…don't have to leave…"
"…but it's just the way I feel, and I can't help the way I feel. God knows I don't want to make you mad at me, but I had to say it…"
"…not angry at you, Celia…"
"…first time I ever saw you – and that's been over a year ago – I knew then how a guy feels about a chick he really digs. You're like a little doll, Janice, so beautiful and…" She broke off and wheeled toward Janice, looking at her in breathless silence. "What did you say?" she blurted in a demanding tone. "What was it you said to me?"
Janice took another sip of her tea and put the cup on the coffee table. "I said I'm not angry at you, Celia, and you don't have to leave."
Celia looked surprised, then an expectant, hopeful smile spread across her face as she put her hand on the couch and leaned toward Janice. "But…"
Janice chuckled and put her hand on top of Celia's. "But what? I like you, too, Celia."
Celia clutched Janice's hand in both of hers, gripping it and squeezing it with a hard, tight pressure as she looked at Janice, her eyes moving from side to side as she studied Janice's face, then she slid toward Janice, hope still quivering on her face. "Janice, I don't know if you're talking about the same thing I am, but…"
Janice looked at her and smiled silently, and Celia threw herself at Janice, clutching her and burying her lips in the soft hollow at the base of Janice's throat. She whimpered and turned her head from side to side as she dug her fingers into Janice's shoulders. "I've got to do it… go ahead and get mad at me and throw me out… I'll leave if you say you hate me… I'll leave if you say you don't want me to… but if you don't throw me out then I'm going to kiss you and hold you…"
Celia crushed herself against Janice, putting her arms around her shoulders and gripping her tightly, still kissing her throat. Janice leaned back against the couch, relaxing in Celia's embrace, and she stroked the side of Celia's face with a slow, gentle motion of her fingers as she looked up at the ceiling, her eyes half closed and her head turned to one side as Celia kissed her throat. "Gently darling," she breathed. "No need to rush… no need to hurry…"