On her way through the woods to the big house, Nola liked to fool the birds. “Trrrrrrrrrllll, trrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrllll,” she would sing, or “Kewkewkew—eweeeeee—eweee,” and they answered her. She’d switch to “Tzwitz, tzwitz, tzwitz,” and soon the woods would be filled with a choir of her conducting, like Snow White. Sometimes Nola spotted a squirrel, a rabbit, or a doe with her Bambi, and although none ever clustered around her to listen, she imitated Snow White’s trilling.

One day, when she went to the big house for a plate of food, the old man raised a weak arm toward the next room. It was like a huge living room, but with even bigger windows on three sides, and Mom called it “the orangerie.” Nola stepped in, and at the sight of a shining black piano something tightened down between her legs, at the place she sometimes touched.

After that, two evenings a week, Ms. Beverly Cutter from school came over to give her lessons on what she referred to as “the Steinway.” Nola went over to practice whenever she felt like it. She left the windows open for the birds to hear. The old man also listened, but she didn’t mind him at all. Since Jenna’s accident, she had become friendlier toward him, because she could tell that he was a nice man beneath the disgusting face. Sometimes, he would point a trembling finger at a composition in the music books, and Nola would play it. She was only sorry that Jenna wasn’t around to hear, especially when their father came with his guitar and the two of them jammed. That’s what he called their playing together.

Nola liked Ms. Cutter, who always said nice things about her being a great kid and musically talented. Ms. Cutter was a perky woman whose dark curls were in perpetual motion. She had a big smile and many large teeth that on her looked friendly. She was slight, but had a protruding stomach, like a shelf on which she leaned her folded arms. Nola tried to imitate that posture but could never manage it. When Ms. Cutter was around, there was always something interesting on which to rest the eyes, because summer and winter, her long black skirts and black sweaters created a backdrop for a collection of jewelry made of silver, ceramic, feathers, stones or glass.

For Mom’s birthday, Nola used her savings to buy the biggest, most beautiful “I Love You, Mom” card she had ever seen. It was as big as the world atlas, had pictures of brilliant flowers and exotic birds, and it was so special that the manufacturer wrapped it in cellophane. The card was also like a promise to protect her parents from any bad things that were sure to come, worse than the fire.