My daddy wants to sell our old piano. He says we need the money. Mama doesn’t want him to get rid of it, and neither do I. I learn the songs my mama plays and then I teach them to Rhiannon and my little brother. We play duets sometimes while my mama cooks. She likes that, especially when we play Chopin. He’s her favorite, but Rhiannon doesn’t like his name.
“I think it’s silly,” she tells me between songs.
“Well yours is sort of silly, too,” I reply. She doesn’t say anything else after that, but her forehead squinches up and she presses her notes too hard.