Downstairs on the porch, Brian Littrell sat on the swing thinking about the things that had happened so far. Michelle had captured his heart. She seemed so lovable, and vulnerable, and just adorable. He longed to hug her close and tell her that she was going to be fine and there wasn't any reason for her to be scared any longer. Yet he could see plainly the inner struggle that she was having- to trust or not to trust? He hoped they could make her see that she could trust them.
What little he'd been told about her past made him shudder. This little girl had been through so much, and she so desperately needed and deserved love.
He wanted to save her, and to mend her soul and body.
He knew that she'd suffered a lot, and that she'd been hit by her biological parents, until Carrie helped put a stop to it. He was so thankful to Carrie, for helping bring such a special young girl into their lives, and he had barely gotten a chance to meet and thank her. Why couldn't she be adopted? Carrie had a right to a family, too.
He took a sip of his coffee and stared into the sunset. It was beautiful, like his new daughter.
Why exactly had he chosen her? He wasn't sure. Had it been her big green, sad eyes? Or the look on her face? Or had he just been attracted to the character that shined through the tears?
He went inside, already feeling a bit chilled. It was nearly autumn, and already beggining to cool down, as it was the first Sunday in September.
He headed up to the attic, where he had his studio set up. What attracted him most was the grand piano. He wasn't the world's greatest piano, but he did know several melodies. He began to play "Incomplete", losing himself into the music, and didn't realize when a small girl entered the studio and sat on the nearest couch.
"That's was beautiful, Mr. Littrell." she said in awe.
Mr. Littrell spun around, surprised. "Michelle! I didn't know you were here. Come on over, don't be shy." he invited her, gesturing with his hand for Michelle to sit next to him. Remembering her interest in learning how to play the piano, he began to teach her the names of the notes, and for her enjoyment, played "Incomplete" again. This time he sang the lyrics. She loved it, asking him to sing other songs, too, and with a smile he honoured her wish, singing many songs.
"That's so cool!" Michelle said. "You sing like an angel."
Mr. Littrell smiled. "Four other men sing along with me, would you like to hear?"
Michelle nodded furiously, so Mr. Littrell put on the "Millenium" CD, and Michelle listened carefully, sometimes picking out Mr. Littrell's voice, and she was delighted.
"Wow, Mr. Littrell, when you said you were a singer, I never pictured this..."
"Michelle, maybe it will feel strange right now if you try to call me Daddy, and I understand. But maybe you'd prefer to call me Brian? 'Mr. Littrell' sounds like I'm an old man, and do I look like an old man to you?"
Michelle giggled. "Okay, Mr. Lit-" she laughed again. "I mean, okay, Brian."
They spent about two hours just listening to the music, sometimes even making it. Brian found that Michelle had a good ear for music, and thought she would be a pretty good pianist once he got her a teacher, something he'd already started planning.
In his mind he'd already laid out Michelle's whole future, same as he did with Baylee when he was born. Same as most parents probably do.
Then they went downstairs for supper. It was delicious, and again Michelle found herself really happy.
This was what family was like. Not at all like anything she'd ever known, and every few minutes something new surprised her.
She, too, realized that she needed to heal from all those wounds that her real parents had created, and it was going to be difficult, but she knew she was on the right track now.
She'd decided that she could trust the Littrells, and now she was going to start the road onto putting the theory into practice and making herself trust and love them, not as friends, but as family. Her new family.
She was looking forward to weeks and months and years of this. She could get used to this. The love and comfort they had was overwhelming and it made her happy. Very happy.
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Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again.
[...] And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
How can you mend a broken heart, Michael Bublé.
Author's Chapter Notes:
As always thanks for reading and reviewing, it means a lot to me. Fixed a major plothole just now, should make more sense.
