Naked Hope by Rebecca E. Grant

furniture, and a large screen TV. He and Olivia used this room to review tapings of their rehearsals and performances. Tucked into the corner stood a small upright piano. How many times had Gavin stopped a tape only to approach the piano to demonstrate the correct technique, or to show Olivia what she might try instead? No one had been in this room for a long time.
    Although stowed, they could hear the fury of the wind as it twisted and tore at everything in its path. Reports of tornado touchdowns continued throughout the evening and into the night. But as the hours passed, Gavin became aware of two things. Jill’s success of courageously engaging Liv in word games, problem puzzles, trivia, and other methods of measurable play despite her obvious fear of storms—and the hope that flooded through him as he watched Olivia respond.
    Gleeful at besting Jill in one of their games, Liv came alive.
    In the flash of a moment, Gavin saw a glimmer of her former self—confident, capable, brilliant. For the first time in fifteen months, he experienced something other than despair. After seeing Liv like this, Jill couldn’t possibly recommend against her, could she?
    When the weather reports indicated the worst might be over, Jill, Gavin, and Olivia left Edith and Baines in the media room and stole into the kitchen to make popcorn and grab sodas.
    Gavin stepped outside to survey the sky. Although difficult to see in the inky blackness, he spotted another funnel cloud not far to the west. He scowled and blew back through the kitchen door just as the popcorn finished. He rested his hand at the small of Jill’s back and whispered into her ear, “It’s not over. There’s another one coming fast. Let’s get Liv back, now.”
    Jill nodded with a quick jut of her chin, tucking the sodas and popcorn into her arms.
    Keeping one hand on Jill, Gavin captured Olivia’s hand, and called out, “To the media room!”
    “To the media room,” Olivia and Jill echoed.
    Jill doled out bowls of popcorn and Gavin twisted the tops off sodas. Just as everyone settled back into chairs and sofas, the power fizzled out. Jill gasped, Olivia giggled, and Gavin wished he were sitting on the sofa between the two of them. After candles were lit, Olivia begged her father to tell one of his stories.
    Gavin offered up a weak protest. “You just want me to talk so there’s more popcorn for you!”
    Popping a few kernels into her mouth, she giggled.
    He couldn’t remember the last time she’d asked him to tell her a story. He made his voice low and rumbly the way she liked it. “Long ago, there was a girl named Olivia. She was about ten years old, and her father was always telling her not to go into the forest. But one very dark night when not even the moon was shining, little Olivia crept from the safety of her bed deep into the dark woods. The night was so dark, she couldn’t see anything. She couldn’t even see her hands when she put them in front of her face…”
    Long before the story was finished, Olivia fell asleep with her head in Jill’s lap.
    He offered a rueful smile. “Must’ve lost my touch.”
    “Gavin darling, I haven’t heard you play in such a long time. The music would be so relaxing, and I’m sure Jillian would enjoy it, too.”
    Her request startled him. Fifteen months ago, he would have been happy to play. But music wasn’t something you do just because you can. Music was something you create over and over, fresh each time, because you must. He yearned to want to play, but since Liv’s accident, he’d remained detached. Still, his mother meant well. After a moment, he asked, “Any particular request?”
    “Anything your heart desires,” she replied with a proud smile.
    Gavin sat at the piano for long moments flexing his fingers and waiting. Waiting. And still waiting, hoping to be inspired. When at last he played, he had no melody or particular work in mind. He played because his fingers ached to touch the keys.
    He