Headed up the stairs shortly behind Iris, we decided to spend some time in the attic. It’s our favorite place to go when we’re inside. It’s like our kingdom away from the rest of the world. Even just walking through the door, I pass through the flowers on strings hanging in the doorway and picture it as if I’m stepping to somewhere else. A place where we get to imagine anything is possible. I’m not this way when by myself. No, only with Iris. She has a way of helping me feel free and believe in things I could never on my own. It’s one of the reasons I’m so thankful we’re best friends. That she’s such an important part of my life.

I notice something new in our place, a piano that once was in the family room downstairs. We’ve used it plenty of times, Iris’s mom has been teaching us to play, but I didn’t know it would be placed up here. Iris beams at me when she stands at it.

“Do you like it?! Mommy said that it’s ours now. Daddy got her a new one, and I love hearing you play, so I asked if we could put it up here. I know you like it a lot, don’t you? Do you like it?”

Her face drops a bit as I step to her. I drag my fingers over the keys excited to have the new addition.

“I do. And, you like to hear me play? How about I show you what your mom’s been teaching me? I think you’ll like it.”

Like I said, her mom teaches us both, but I’ve been the one learning more advanced pieces. Iris is good, but her attention is either fully on or elsewhere, so her training isn’t as forward as mine is. My mom too keeps on my tail about it, but Iris’s mom isn’t so hard on us. She gets frustrated at times with us, or more so with Iris, when we begin to goof off, but then she catches herself and seems to become super leint afterwards.

Iris’s mom is really nice, but she has fits on occasion. Very rare occasions, but I’ve noticed them here and there. She always gets really quiet and then sweet after. She always apologizes and tries to remind us that even if we’re being bad or in trouble, it’s not okay to be treated mean. Ema’s not like that. I mean, she is, she doesn’t believe that you should treat people like that either, but Ema is a bit more… balanced I guess you would say.

Ema can get frustrated, but I’ve noticed not the same way Iris’s mom does. She doesn’t blow up, or does, but even less so. I can only remember maybe three times she has in my life. Abba’s the one that has the temper like Iris’s mom on occasion, but he walks out of the room when he gets angry. I only know about his fits because I’ve heard them on occasions when listening in if he’s in a room. He told me that it’s better to lock yourself away when you notice yourself getting angry instead of staying and hurting someone you care about. With words or with hands. I’m still learning that. Abba says it takes practice to know the things that can make you lose yourself.

I pull the bench out to sit and begin playing the piece I’ve been learning. I slip up a few times, which frustrates me because I’ve been practicing, but Iris just sits there watching my fingers in awe.

“Do you think I’ll be able to play like that one day?” Her tone seems a bit sad.

I stop playing and look at her. I know she could play like me, she just needs to practice. Iris picks up on things really easily, especially when it comes to things she likes. It’s her attention staying stuck on it that’s the problem.

“I think you could play better, you just need to stick to it.”

She takes a deep breath before her shoulders slump and she looks up at me with puppy dog eyes.

“I want to, it’s just… It’s hard sometimes. You make it seem so easy. Maybe there’s something wrong with me?”

I pull her closer to me and place her hands on the keys. Something about it makes me feel weird, but I push it aside for now.

Focus on making her feel better!

“There’s nothing wrong with you, I. Remember what your mommy says, everyone is different. Just because I can do something doesn’t mean you can’t, it just means you have to learn a different way. You have a talent I wish I had. You’re really smart and learn things easy, you just find some things harder to focus on when they bore you, remember? But here, what if I start teaching you when your mommy’s not? If you like hearing me play, then we can play together. I think that would be more fun anyway.”

“I like that! Do you think Mommy will let us learn together again?”

Remembering that the frustration hit her mommy most when we were taught together, I don’t think it would be a good idea. She seems to do better teaching us separately, so that should stay the same.

“I don’t think so, but we can practice together up here. Each note you have is a half note, you remember what that means, right?”

I purposely give her directions she already understands to give her a bit of a boost. It’s my job to protect her, so if that means from her own bad thoughts, I’ll do that. Most people think Iris is always happy, but I know that there are times where she isn’t. Times where her thoughts try to make her feel bad, so I like to make sure I can help her fight them. Sometimes you need someone else to help you when you’re against yourself. Iris is that for me.

She laughs and bumps into my shoulder.

“You know I do, but what are the actual notes?”

“C, D, C, B, C, D. Do you think you can handle that?” I give her a teasing grin that’s matched by her squinting up her nose with a tight smile.

“Yes, I think I can handle that.”

She begins to play the notes and we go over it a few times before I play my end. I forgot how much I enjoyed playing alongside her. It seems that even doing the simplest things with Iris is something I miss when it’s gone. Seeing her smile as we join in together, the way her face brightens, maybe this can be something new we get to do with each other again. A new thing to do in our place.

It makes me wonder what things will be like when we’re older. If we’ll be playing beside each other, or if something else will be added that we get to enjoy. All I know is that no matter where I’m at in life, it’s going to be by Iris’s side, making her smile and helping her with whatever thoughts try to make her sad.

That’s the future I want, and the future I pray to Yahweh gets to happen. I can’t imagine life without her.

Please, Lord, help me to always protect her. Help us to always have a life together.

“I love you, Peter. I’m glad you’re my best friend.”

I find myself almost wanting that to mean more, but I’m not sure why. I’m not sure what about her words aren’t the same as they’ve always been, and if they are, why I’d be almost disappointed by them. I’m glad she’s my best friend too.

“Forever and always, right?”

She grins and looks up at me. Her eyes bright under the peaking sun.

“Forever and always.”

Something lingers behind her eyes, a fight almost, but I’m not sure of what. She looks back at the keys before I’m able to even know for sure if it’s there. But I know that in time, she’ll share it with me. She always does.

I’ll protect you, Iris. Forever and Always.