The Piano Man by CPWatcher (Challenge #37: The Secret Life of Don Eppes)

[cpwatcher.livejournal.com]

Title: The Piano Man - The Secret Life of Don Eppes
Pairing/Characters: Don, Charlie, Alan, Amita, Megan, Larry, Millie
Rating/Category: Gen
Word Count: 1685
Spoilers: Minimal references to the Running Man
Summary: Don's been keeping a secret from his family and friends.
Notes/Warnings: 

The Piano Man - The Secret Life of Don Eppes

 

Don walked into his childhood home and was greeted by his dad.

 

"Donnie. Hey. Come grab a chair, dinner's just been put out."

 

Don looked at the table full of food and the couples sitting around it, Larry and Megan, Amita and Charlie, Millie and his dad.

 

He smiled, shook his head no, "Nah, I'd be the odd man out. Anyway, I just came to pickup something..." Don walked off down the side hall.

 

As Don came back through with a small leather briefcase in his hand, Charlie's voice stopped him.

 

"So Don, we were gonna all go out after dinner, maybe see a movie or something. Maybe you and Liz could join us..."

 

Don smiled at his brother. "Not tonight Charlie. I've already have some plans. Maybe next week?" Don said as he backed out the front door.

 

Charlie gave his father a questioning look. Alan responded with a shrug. The elder Eppes mused that Charlie often disappeared in his numbers, hiding in his own head. But Donnie, Donnie just disappeared from sight. He'd speak with his oldest son tomorrow and try to find out what he's been up to.

 

#########

 

An hour later they finished dinner and sat around for another half an hour debating about movies and theatre productions.

 

"How about a comedy club?" Alan offered.

 

Most everyone voiced a quick negative.

 

Amita piped up. "One of my students told me about this really nice piano bar. Intimate atmosphere, quiet, very couples's friendly..."

 

Charlie shot her a glare. "A student. A student asked you out?"

 

"Relax Charlie. Anyway, it's supposed to be very nice, features a lot of local talent."

 

"Sounds great." Megan said.

 

"Wonderful." Agreed Millie.

 

The three men all nod.

 

"Fine. Where is this place?" Alan asked.

 

"It's right near CalSci. The name starts with a P. Charlie may I?" She motioned to his pc. Sitting, Amita quickly found the local area entertainment guide. After a few minutes she located the bar. "Here it is."

 

Looking over her shoulder, Mille offered, "It has a link to a website."

 

Clicking the link, Millie and Amita began to read. Murmuring words like 'sounds nice', 'oh I like that' and 'yeah'.

 

Then Amita gasped. "No. Millie did you see that?"

 

"It can't be." She replied.

 

"What?" Alan asked.

 

"Don."

 

"What about Don?" Charlie questioned.

 

"Don is one of the local talents featured at this bar."

 

Everyone huddled next to the computer as Amita read the webpage.

 

"The Phoenix Club hosts many local artists including a new rising star Donald Eppes. A club favorite, Donald's musical styling offers a mix of contemporary and classical. Appearing only one weekend a month, this is a must see performance."

 

"I never knew Don played." Larry stated. "And professionally at that."

 

Alan and Charlie exchanged looks.

 

"Is he playing this weekend? What time are the shows." Charlie questioned.

 

"Yes and 11:00pm."

 

Alan looked at his watch. It was 8:30. "We better leave now if we want to get seats."

 

##########

 

The club was indeed a very romantic venue. Dark woods, red velvet drapes and matching red tablecloths. Candles kept a warm mood. The setup was like a theatre in the round, tables staggered in an outward spiral allowing for maximum viewing of the slightly lowered center stage. The stage itself slowly rotated allowing for a full view of the baby grand piano and the current pianist, a young lady, who Charlie thought played very well.

 

Sipping their drinks, the three couples engaged in small talk as the artist finished her set. As the applause died down, the owner of the club took the stage.

 

"The Phoenix Club is proud to present a wonderfully talented new artist, Mr. Donald Eppes."

 

Don walked out onto the stage carrying the small leather case. He pulled out the sheet music and arranged it tenderly along the piano's holder. He'd long since memorized the notes, but having the music with him made him feel like his mother was there with him, watching him, playing with him.

 

Once situated, Don spoke softly into the microphone. "Hi everybody. I don't know about the wonderfully talented part, but I am Donald Eppes, and I appreciate you all letting me play for you for a while."

 

Don nodded his head slightly, and the house lights darken and an overhead spot light bathed the stage in a warm glow. Then the sound of beautiful music filled the room. Talking went to murmurs, to whispers, to quiet, as the entire room's occupants become mesmerized by the sweet flow of notes.

 

Don paused between songs to allow for a small moment of applause before he started another song. This felt so good. It reinvigorated him in a way nothing else did. He was able to make people happy and to do it without having to rescue a child from some sick bastard, without the threat of harm to millions of people from some plague or virus. And to be able to do it without Charlie's help; without Charlie's numbers. God he loved his brother, but sometimes, sometimes, Don needed something that was just his. Baseball used to be his, and then Charlie came along running Don's stats. FBI used to be his, but again came Charlie and his numbers. Don appreciated is brother. Put his life in Charlie's hands on a daily basis. But this, the music, the piano, this was one of the few things Don had that Charlie didn't shine in. One of the few things Don could really share with his mother and not have to worry about Charlie taking it from him too. Don knew there was numbers to music, but music also had a passion that Charlie just didn't get. Don shared that passion with his mom. Music was their special bond.

 

Alan watched enthralled as Donnie played. He saw Margaret in Don's every action, the turn of his head, the movement of his hands, the way he watched the keys. He wondered why Don never told him about his playing, why Don never shared this part of himself with his family. Don was secretive like that, hiding things inside, always holding a piece of himself back. Alan realized Margaret had been like that too. She'd continued to write music long after she had told him she gave it up. And Alan wonders how he cold have been so foolish to think that someone as passionate as Margaret was with her music could just put it away. And here Donnie was, just as passionate, bringing Margaret back to life with his every keystroke. And then Don began to sing, his voice soft and filled with pain and heartache. The words cut Alan like a knife, as he heard the story of his family in the lyrics. Then smoothly the tempo changed and the songs words were uplifting, healing. Alan wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. He barely heard the remaining three songs Donnie played.

 

At the end of the performance was thunderous applause. Don bowed graciously and thanked everyone. He accepted handshakes from those who were nearest to the stage. Millie and Amita were rising, "Let's go say hi to Don."

 

"No," Alan said decisively. Then a little softer. "I mean... I think if Don had wanted to share this with us, he would have invited us. I think... I mean, would you mind keeping this our little secret?" He asked with a slight plea in his voice.

 

Megan understood right away, but Charlie was being insistent. "Well it's not like he was hiding it Dad. It's in the paper, on the net..."

 

"Charlie, I said no." Alan's voice was firm and brooked no retorts from his youngest son.

 

Leaving the club, Megan and Larry went their separate way as Alan, Millie, Charlie and Amita climbed into Alan's car.

 

"So has Don been playing for a long time?" Millie asked trying to lighten the mood.

 

"Since he was 9. Off and on." Alan replied.

 

Amita said, "The music was beautiful. The songs so stirring."

 

"Yes and Don's voice so full of emotion." Millie agreed.

 

"I didn't know he could sing like that." Charlie whispered softly.

 

Alan looked back through the rearview mirror at his son. "He sings like your mother."

 

And then realization hits Charlie. The music Don had laid out, it was the music they had found of their mother. Don had been playing and singing her scores. Alan smiled weakly to his son. He watched as Charlie quickly replayed all the songs in his head, watched as Charlie processed the words to the songs, watched as tears welled in his eyes, watched as Charlie tried to blink them away.

 

There was silence for the rest of the ride back home.

 

#########

 

Don walked into his childhood home and was greeted by his Dad.

 

"Donnie."

 

"Hey, what are you guys doing still up?"

 

"Ah, we were just watching TV." Charlie replied.

 

Don returned the leather case to its proper place, retrieved a beer from the kitchen, and then eased down in the open chair.

 

The three men sat in companionable silence for several minutes.

 

Don quiet voice broke the silence. "I wasn't really keeping it a secret. I was going to tell you both. Eventually."

 

"I know, Donnie." Alan wasn't surprised to note that Don had spotted them in the audience. He was a highly skilled FBI agent, trained to take in his surroundings. He'd told Charlie as much once they'd dropped of Millie and Amita.

 

Swiping his hand across his mouth, Don continued. "It's therapeutic, you know. Let's me get out of my head."

 

"Yeah, like my math." Charlie chimed in, his father's words echoing in his mind about how he escaped to his numbers and for Donnie it was the piano.

 

Alan said, "For me, its architecture, drawing. That's my escape."

 

Several more minutes pass as the three men stare at the TV, though not seeing any of the show that played, all lost in thought.

 

Charlie broke the silence. "You play really well, Donnie."

 

"Like your mother," Alan added quietly. "Beautiful, like your mother."

 

Don smiled softly. "Thanks."

 

#### end ####

 

Comments

[emmademarais.livejournal.com]

/wibble/

Really lovely...

[cpwatcher.livejournal.com]

Thank you. :)

[iolsai.livejournal.com]

That was really sweet.

I can totally picture Don doing that.

[cpwatcher.livejournal.com]

Thanks, yeah Don has so many sides to him.

[irena-adler.livejournal.com]

That was very sweet! I like how Alan realized that the music meant to Don and how he didn't make a big deal at the club. Poor Charlie, clueless. :) Of course, Don spotted them!

[cpwatcher.livejournal.com]

Yeah I think Alan ican be very insightful at times. Glad you liked it.

[lark_ascends]

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!

[cpwatcher.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much.

[spikedluv]

Aww, that was beautiful! Brought tears to my eyes. I love the idea of Don playing piano, and using it to get out of his head for a while. ♥

[cpwatcher.livejournal.com]

Thank you. Yeah I think Don needs a lot of ways to escape what goes on in and out of his head. Glad it moved you.

[boymommytotwo.livejournal.com]

what a vulnerable, sweet side of don to see... very very nice.

[cpwatcher.livejournal.com]

thank you so much.

[(Anonymous)]

That was truly touching! Simple, yet beautiful. Well done!

P.S.: Just thought that you'd want to know - Don and Charlie's mother's name was Dora.