Amen!

During those times when she'd asked him what was wrong, he'd assured her it wasn't her. No, of course there was no one else he'd said emphatically. How could she even think that? Yes, he still loved her. He was just so busy doing the Lord's work. She would need to trust in Him and her husband. He promised her that if she would, He would lead her through this to an even 'better place.' And that's where every attempt to get to the bottom of this growing problem ended.

Kinley hated being cynical, yet all she could think of was that pretty much any place would be better than this and once again she sat there and thought long and hard about the verse that said, "To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord." Never had she so strongly wanted to be absent from the body and present with the Lord if life on earth meant nothing but neglect, loneliness, and endless heartache.

After nearly an hour of unmitigated sorrow and tears, she was too drained to cry any more. She sat there for quite a while longer not caring that her face looked like a train wreck. She was numb. She felt hollow from the inside out. She was also lost and confused and seemingly without hope.

And then she noticed it was almost 9:30. She forced herself to get up, go upstairs, and completely remove her makeup so she could start again from scratch after thoroughly washing her pretty face. She'd even had to change clothes as there was mascara all over the dress she'd worn that morning.

"Oh, lovely. Just what I need," she said as she looked at her puffy eyes and the fine lines around them, even though they were the only tell-tale sign she'd recently turned 36. She made her way back downstairs and took a last look around as though something in her perfectly-kept home might have got up and moved.

Her doorbell rang promptly at ten o'clock. She took a deep breath, forced a smile the way she'd done so many times over the last few years, and opened the door. She was momentarily confused when she saw the person standing there in front of her.

"Um...hi. Are you Brian?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," he said quietly. "Umm...do I have the right address? Are you Ms. Tolson?"

"Mrs. Tolson," she said out of habit. "And yes, if you're looking for me, then you have the right address. Oh, sorry. Please come in. I just wasn't expecting...."

He stepped inside then said, "Ma'am?"

"Oh, nothing. I had a very different mental image in my mind of who would be coming."

Brian smiled politely then said, "I guess that makes two of us. Honestly? I kind of thought you'd look a little more like my grandmother or at least my mother."

She led him toward the music room and said, "I hope you're not too disappointed. I suppose I am old enough to be your mother so...."

"I don't hardly think so, ma'am," he told her. "I'll be 23 next week so I don't think someone who's around 30 could be my mom."

"Around 30? I like you already, Brian!" she said cheerfully almost feeling cheerful. They entered the music room and Kinley said, "I'm a little curious. I thought Marines had really short hair and were clean shaven."

"Oh, um...yes, ma'am. I got out about three months ago. I let my hair grow until yesterday when I finally got it trimmed a little, and I'm still trying out this stubble thing. It seems a little too trendy for my liking—sort of like growing a goatee—but I couldn't grow a beard when I was 18, and I had to shave every day on active duty, so I'm just trying some new things. I'm sure I'll end up shaving it off sooner or later."

"I don't generally care much for facial hair myself, but it looks very good on you. Kind of...sophisticated or something," she told him. She'd trained herself not to look at other men 'like that' but in Brian's case, her first impression was of a male model wearing a suit or maybe holding a sports coat over his shoulder in some magazine. His hair was still fairly short, but it was thick and black and a bit shiny due to whatever product was in it. The facial hair was very short, well-groomed, and a perfect fit with not only his hair but his bright blue eyes and very handsome face.

"I'm anything but sophisticated, ma'am, but thank you. That was very kind. I noticed you're married, by the way, so I'm not flirting or anything, but you're a very beautiful woman, and sophisticated is a word that actually works where you're concerned."

Kinley couldn't believe the way such a simple, sincere compliment made her feel and how it lifted the veil of darkness that had hung over her all morning. The fact that it came from someone who was very tall and incredibly handsome—if a bit shy—made it even more special.

"Okay, so how about we get started then?" she suggested feeling in much better spirits. "Have you ever played the piano at all, Brian?

"Does Chopsticks count?" he asked flashing a boyish smile her way.

Kinley laughed then said, "Mmm...not so much. Why don't you have a seat and we'll chat for a few minutes and then we'll sit down at the piano and get to work."

Brian set across from her and wasn't sure he should sit down. Everything looked so new and expensive he was afraid the furniture might only be for show. Like the kind of towels in his Aunt Carol's bathroom. He'd dried his hands with them once when he was very young and learned a lesson about decorative items.

"Sit down, please," she said. "Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, tea?"

"It's a little early for a shot of whiskey, I suppose so...." he said not knowing she was the wife of a minister.

"Yes, I suppose it is," she said with an odd smile and not quite sure how to respond.

She ignored his stab at humor and pressed on. "So, Brian. What brings you here? You told me on he phone you were a Marine, but we really didn't get a chance to talk. What is there about the piano that interests you?"

"It's kind of a long story so let me give you the short version," he began. "Like a lot of other folks who served in Iraq or Afghanistan, I saw things that are hard to forget. Humor, exercise, and music are supposed to very helpful. I listen to a lot of music—I've even learned to appreciate some of the classical stuff, but someone told me learning to play music could be even more helpful so...here I am."

"I'm sorry, Brian," she said sincerely. "I can't even imagine how awful that must have been. I sometimes feel sorry for myself because of my own little personal problems. Meeting someone like you really puts things in perspective."

"No one's problems are little, ma'am. They're just as real no matter who we are or what the issues may be."

She thought about her own life then replied, "You have no idea how right you are, Brian. Oh, and you don't need to call me 'ma'am', okay? It makes me feel even older than I am."

"Well, okay. That's fine by me, but that's twice you've mentioned your age since I walked in, and I can assure you there's no reason to bring it up. You look very young and...." He looked back at the huge diamond on her left hand and she understood.

Kinley laughed politely then said, "And that's twice you've made me feel good, and feeling good has been in short supply lately." She'd looked away as she said it, her voice trailing off, and Brian could sense something was wrong but knew better than to ask. "Anyway, please call me Kinley, okay?"

"Kinley. I've never heard that name before. It's beautiful," he told her sincerely.

Most of her students were children or teenagers. She'd had a handful of adult students over the years, but this was the first time she'd found herself fighting some kind of inexplicable, impossible attraction to one of them. She knew it couldn't possibly be any kind of real attraction as she was a married woman. And while he was an adult he was so very young it made the whole thing seem laughable. And yet he was so serious and so intense and so...mysterious...she found it very unsettling even though she had no idea what 'it' might be.

"I like to try and establish a connection with my students before I start teaching. I used to rush right into a list of things to know like how to sit, how to hold your wrists, curve your fingers, finger numbers, etc., but that proved much too sterile and I lost quite a few students. So let's chat a bit. Can you tell me what your goals might be or what you hope to get out of learning to play the piano?"

Brian ran his hand over his nicely-trimmed, three-day stubble then said, "Hmmm. That's a tough question. Well, as I mentioned I'm hoping that it will help me quiet the 'demons' in my mind. I've made some real progress through the humor, exercise, and music thing, but as I said I've heard that actually learning to play can help. I guess the key...." He paused, smiled then said, "Sorry. No pun intended," which made Kinley laugh. "It supposedly forces your brain to concentrate and focus to the point it crowds out the unwanted stuff. You know, the 'tape' that keeps playing all the time in a kind of endless loop."

"You know, I've never thought of that, but I have to admit that when I'm playing—especially a very complicated piece, I can't think about my problems...the tape as you called it...that keeps running through my mind. I see a lot of truth to that."

Brian had been watching her as she spoke, but before he replied he looked down at the floor for a few seconds before looking back up at her. "I guess just like I was expecting someone older and um...less attractive to be teaching me, I automatically assumed a beautiful woman living in such an incredibly nice home, wouldn't really have any problems."

She didn't respond so he kept going. He looked back down for a second then said, "I'm almost 23, still living with my parents, and mentally not even able to start school yet because of what I guess we can keep calling 'the tape' and then I make this unfounded assumption about someone else based on appearances. Shame on me."

"You may only be 23...ish," she began smiling weakly at him, "but that is very insightful. When I think of what you're dealing with, I feel rather silly for being so distraught over my own problems, but I do have 'a tape' of my own playing in my head pretty much every waking moment." She forced another brave smile then added, "Maybe we can help one another figure out how to turn them off once and for all?"

Brian felt encouraged for the first time since he'd met with his therapist back in October and smiled back. "I'd like that," he told her. His smile faded when he noticed her eyes were welling up with tears.

"Kinley? Are you okay?" he asked as he saw her blinking rapidly.

"Sorry," she said reaching for a tissue on the table between them. "I had a kind of meltdown this morning—due to the topic of my 'tape'—and I wasn't sure I could go through with the lesson. Just talking about this is...." She stopped talking and turned away slightly. He saw her body shake once and then a second time and he knew she was crying.

Instinctively, he got up and moved closer. "Kinley? Mrs. Tolson? Are you okay?"

She was nodding 'yes' but everything else told him 'no'. He sat next to her but didn't touch her. He spoke quietly and said, "This is my fault. I shouldn't have brought up this 'tape' thing. That was really wrong and unfair. I...I'm very sorry."

Her heard her trying to take slow, deep breaths to regain control. He very gently put a hand on her shoulder and said, "It's okay. Take all the time you need. I'm right here."

Finally, she managed to stop shaking but still couldn't look at him. "I've been dealing with this for several years now, and it really hit me hard this morning. Just like your tape, mine won't stop playing, either, and I'm at wits end trying to get it to. I'm out of ideas and...and I feel so desperate and so...totally alone."

Her body shook again, and Brian had no idea how to comfort her. He slid closer and put his arm around her shoulder as she cried openly. He ran his hand gently along her shoulder and upper back hoping it might soothe her with no effect.

Very quietly he said, "Maybe it would be best if I gave you some time alone. I'll just go ahead and show myself out and we can try again in a couple of days."

He removed his hand and stood up, but before he could turn away, she turned toward him and without looking up managed to say, "Please don't leave me alone, Brian. Please?"

He sat back down and said, "Okay," and waited for her to regain her composure.

It took quite a while but eventually her breathing steadied out again. "I am so sorry," she said. "I'm...I'm a wreck. Mentally and..." she looked over at him then said, "and as you can see, physically, too."

Her makeup was a wreck, but Brian paid no attention to the mascara that had run all the way down her face leaving black streaks in its wake. "You look fine to me," he said smiling politely at her. "Did you maybe want to just talk for a while? I wouldn't mind, if that's okay with you, of course."

"Are you sure?" she asked as she smudged the black mess even more by trying to wipe it off.

"Here. Let me," he said reaching for a clean tissue. He dabbed and wiped until most of it was gone then said, "Good as new!" knowing she knew that wasn't true.

"Lying is a sin, you know," she said trying to smile.

"A sin?"

"Well, yes. My husband is a pastor and the Bible says lying—bearing false witness—is a sin. Sorry, I'm not a pastor and I wasn't preaching. I was trying to be funny or cute or...."

Brian smiled at her and told her, "Well, if you were trying to be cute, I'd say you hit a home run. Pretty is the better word for it, but cute works, too."

"Oh, stop!" she said still trying to clear up the mess. "I'm 36 and can't even get my husband to look at me anymore."

And with that, she lost it again. She began to cry uncontrollably, and again, Brian acted on sheer instinct. He put his arms around her and let her cry until she couldn't cry another tear.

She was sobbing so hard she was having trouble breathing for several minutes during the jag. Suddenly, Brian was aware that for the first time ever—the tape had stopped playing. Unlike the way loud music or tearing it up in the gym or running so hard he thought his lungs would explode temporarily pushed the noise into the background, his total focus on Kinley's pain made his own mental anguish go away.

The irony was overwhelming. Here she was, wracked with pain and agony and yet it was her agony that had led to his first real break from his own. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops, but he couldn't bear to even move let alone share his good fortune with this beautiful woman who was hurting so badly.

She was still shaking but no longer uncontrollably. "You okay?" he finally asked.

She nodded again, but he knew better. "Maybe...maybe you should go ahead and leave. I...I just can't...."

"Not a chance," he told her. "I'm staying, and we're talking. The piano can wait. Why don't you go wash up and we'll start over. Take your time. I'll wait right here."

She looked over at him, her eyes filled with sadness and he felt his heart breaking for her. "Whatever this is, we'll get through it. I promise," he told her knowing it was a promise he couldn't keep.

She exhaled a long, shaky breath then said, "Look at you. I'm supposed to be the teacher and yet here you are holding everything inside and worried about me. Isn't this kind of backwards?"

"I don't know," he told her truthfully. "This is all uncharted territory for me. All I do know is I'm happy to listen and be a friend. Is that okay?"

"Yes. That actually sounds very nice. I could use a friend right about now."

He saw she wanted to stand up so he stood and offered her his hand. "I'll um...I'll just go clean up this mess—again—then I'll be right back down. Are you sure you don't mind waiting?"

"Take as long as you need," he told her. "I'll go practice my Chopsticks until you get back and then I'll dazzle you with a personal performance."

Kinley laughed causing her to choke which made her laugh even more. She held up a hand and coughed then pointed upstairs.

"Take you time!" Brian called out knowing she couldn't reply. He sat down and pretended he was giving a concert to a large crowd. He cracked his knuckles, sat up straight, put his hands over the keys then began plinking.

Fifteen minutes later he heard her coming back down the stairs so he got up and waited for her. Her eyes were still puffy and bloodshot, but she was otherwise just as pretty as she'd been when he met her.

"Brian, I am so sorry about that. It's bad enough I had a meltdown this morning, but doing that in front of one of my students...."

"Technically, since you haven't taught me anything yet, I'm not one of your students. And we already agreed I'm your friend, so why don't we start from there?"

Kinley smiled a nearly genuine smile then said, "I think I'd like some coffee or tea. Would you care to join me?"

"I'm not much of a tea drinker, but I'll have a cup of coffee with you," he said following her to their incredibly beautiful kitchen.

"Wow. This is pretty amazing," he said looking around at the high-end stainless-steel appliances and all the granite and marble along with the hardwood flooring.

"Oh, thank you," she said as she poured water into the Bunn coffee maker. "It is very beautiful." Her back was to him and her words sounded hollow.

"But?" he prodded.

"But...stainless steel can't hold your hand or comfort you or...." She turned around and asked, "Cream and sugar?" even though it had just started brewing.

"Black is fine," he told her.

She sat next to him on a barstool at the large granite island and said, "I really didn't mean to lose it in front of you, Brian."

"Can I tell you a little secret?"

"Of course," she replied.

"I've watched Marines with 20 years service and made of steel break down and cry like babies when people got killed. I don't care who you are, Kinley. At some point, the mind breaks and the body wins. When that happens, we cry. All of us. So please don't feel bad, okay?"

His words comforted her like no others she'd heard in as long as she could remember. She didn't respond, she just sat there staring at him. As she did, she tried to imagine this young man, so strong and brave, crying. For any reason.

"Even you?" she asked sweetly.

"Many times," he admitted.

She got up and poured their coffee. She sat his cup down then said, "Does that have anything to do with the tape that won't stop playing in your mind?"

He took a sip and told her it was perfect. "It has everything to do with it," he told her.

"You don't have to tell me, but I'm more than happy to listen if you feel like sharing it with me. And in spite of my recent 'episode' I'm not a shrinking violet. I won't wilt if you tell me something awful."

"It's really awful," he told her. He looked into her eyes to try and gauge whether or not she really could handle something so graphic.

Against everything her mind was telling her, she reached out and put her hand on his and said, "If you can live through it having seen it, I can stand to hear about it."

He took a deep breath then let her know how his friend's vehicle had run over an IED and what that was. Without all the gory details, he relayed how he'd been trapped inside and how twenty minutes later, the vehicle exploded with his best friend inside.

"The corpsman and our company gunnery sergeant, a senior enlisted Marine, spent an hour combing the desert for anything large enough to be sent home to his family. And...they didn't find much."

He saw tears in her eyes again and felt terrible.

"No, it's okay," she said. "I'll be all right this time. I...I just feel so terrible for you and for his poor mother and father. Was he married, Brian?"

"No. No wife or children. I guess that's the one and only bright spot if you want to call it that. His parents and little brother were devastated as you can well imagine. They live about 30 minutes from here, by the way."