Alrighty folks! Ready for another installment of When Life Hands You Lymes? This post is kinda wrapping up the section where we’ve been, because I feel like I have a pretty good grasp of who Madalyn is now. Next, we’re going to be skipping several months to where the action really starts. 🙂 I hope you enjoy! And as always, I’d be delighted to hear your thoughts. Have a great weekend!
“As you can see, we have all the new data marked in purple.” Katie’s chipper voice bounces through the speakers, capturing everyone’s attention in the huge room. I’ve never had a presentation to share with the whole group, but I’m convinced I wouldn’t be able to do as well as my sister. She pretty much rocks at everything she tries.
Moving the mouse on the computer she had on the podium, she clicked to open a folder, then went through, explaining how each component worked. I sat in the back row, my head tilted to the side, proud as can be of my Katie. She’s amazing. I know, I sound like I’m talking about my daughter instead of my sister here, aren’t I?
“How did I do?” Katie asks in a breathless whisper when she slides into her seat next to me, amid claps and cheers after she’s finished her session.
“You were utterly amazing.” I give her two thumbs up.
Katie’s already glowing face brightens a little more, “You really think that? I didn’t talk to fast or soft or anything?”
“Naw, of course not. You’re Katie Emerson after all, and Katie Emerson is great.”
Katie’s not nearly as gushing as I am, but I can tell the praise makes her happy. Her cheeks turn to a rosy pink and she takes a selfie of her smiling face to send to our brother Jason, who’s at college in California. His Spring Break didn’t coincide with our business meetings, and he hadn’t wanted to take the time off. I missed having him at the conference.
The rest of the day sped by with meetings, visiting, games, eating and more visiting. It seemed like even though a lot of the people had never met before, since they all worked for the same company and all experienced at least some of the same things, it was really easy for them to connect. Setting up air hockey and ping-pong tables helped with the process, too. I’m kinda crazy when it comes to ping-pong. I totally relish the idea of knocking down guy’s faulty assumptions about girls not being as good at sports as they are. I’m pretty competitive, anyone can attest to that.
It was kinda hard finding time to squeeze my music practice into the day, but like the dutiful (read that addicted) musician that I am, I made sure to play for a little while before going to bed. Dad had made sure they had a piano I could use in one of the meeting rooms, and of course I brought my own guitar.
“Hey, you play pretty well.”
Looking up, I saw several of the hotel employees crowding in the doorway, watching me. I had been playing playing a classical piece with my eyes closed, just letting the familiar strains carry me away with their beauty. You hear people talk about ‘becoming part of the music’ or other such nonsense-sounding stuff when they play. In reality, though, it’s true. Just like a bookworm saying a good book can take them to another world, a good piece of music can do the same to me. Mom says she only needs to listen to the music I’m playing to tell what kind of mood I’m in.
“Thanks.” I smile at my small audience and then glance at my phone. “Am I keeping you up?” I knew that someone had to lock up the room I was in, and I didn’t want to make them wait.
“It doesn’t matter.” A man who looked about old enough to be my grandfather smiled, lines crinkling around his hazel eyes. “Will you play us another song before you go?”
Of course I was happy to oblige.