Chapter Fourteen

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Just as it always was on Saturday mornings in the summer, the 15 year old girl sat up straight in front of her grandmother's piano, gliding her fingers across the keys with expert precision from her years of practice. The little old woman sat beside her with her grey hair tied up in the perfect low bun it was always in, a floral, pink gown, and a white apron. She watched and listened to her granddaughter carefully, ensuring that each and every move she made was absolutely perfect as she played a traditional piece.

The smell of cookies hung in the air as they baked in the kitchen, indicating that they were almost done baking. The smell urged the girl to wrap the song up, finding the perfect blend of melodies to skip to the end of the song. The old woman didn't mind it, finding her granddaughter's musical talent in making such a transition to be rather impressive. She was proud.

"Very nice, dear. I say at this rate, you'll be even better than I ever was." she complimented, giving the girl a warm, proud smile.

"Thank you, Grandma." the girl replied, flashing her a soft smile of her own.

The old woman gave a small chuckle, glancing back towards the kitchen with her brows slightly raised, expressively. "I'd say the cookies are about finished. Would you like to take them out of the oven for me, dear?"

The girl nodded with a grin, her black banana curls bouncing at the movement. "Of course!"

She quickly stood from the piano, smoothing out her checkered skirt, and quickly shuffled into the kitchen. The old woman chuckled as her bright blue eyes watched her, finding the girl's enthusiasm about the cookies to be adorable. The girl had always been that way about her grandmother's baking goods ever since she was small; the old woman was glad that her teen years didn't change the innocent light in her soul.

Though, there was something different about her, she noticed. Ever since she had returned from her trip at her father's camp, there was something more distant about her that the old woman couldn't quite put her finger on. Though the girl's smiles looked the same, there seemed to be something else hidden behind them.

"Alright, they look and smell wonderful! They just need to cool down for a few minutes." the girl called from the kitchen.

"Very good, dear." the old woman replied, standing from her seat to enter the kitchen. "Who will you be gifting this batch to?"

The girl gave a bright, happy smile. "I'm going to go door to door around the neighborhood, see if I can't get a few cents out of them."

The old woman chuckled, approaching the tray of cookies on the counter to ensure that they were indeed finished. "What will you use the money for?"

"I'm gonna save it for now, so hopefully I can eventually earn enough to pay for a show." the girl replied, interlocking her fingers together.

"Oh, for a show, hm? I say, you are quite a whim at writing. Have you turned any of your work in, yet?" the old woman replied, looking at the girl with curiosity.

The girl sighed, shaking her head as she glanced away. "Not yet. I want to make sure it's perfect before I send it in anywhere."

"Alright. Well, when you do, I'll bet it will be the best show in America." the old woman replied, giving her a supportive smile. "You were born to sing."

She was never so fond of the girl's father raising her to know the life of a soldier in the military, so she often pushed her to music and baking. Though she couldn't deny the girl's enthusiasm about training with her father, it still made her worry. Especially while there was a war going on, she hoped that her father's teachings wouldn't go anywhere beyond the girl's own personal defense, instead of a career choice. She felt it to be too dangerous for the young lady; and of course, a waste of her musical talent.

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