A Hero's Reward by Amy Morrel Read Free Book Online Page B

I
grew up having to listen to that and then my ex-husband wouldn't
listen to anything but that. I've got a severe dislike for it now.”
    “I don't do much Country-Western,
there are maybe ten Country songs I like. I don't listen to rap
either, but I do listen to pretty much anything else. More rock and
classical than the rest though.”
    “Well, I would've mentioned I
don't listen to rap but you did ask about music .”
    Greg chuckled, “Did you just make
a joke?”
    “I guess maybe I did.”
    Margaret wasn't smiling but she wasn't
frowning either, it seemed to Greg that her face had lost some of its
stress as well. He got up and booted up his computer:
    “How about some classical for
right now? I tend to move to the music with rock and that might not
be the best idea with my back how it is.”
    “Sure, do you have Ode to Joy? I
always liked that piece.”
    “Yup, I have Beethoven's ninth
with Ode to Joy as part of it in one of my classical playlists, as a
matter of fact it's the first song on that playlist.”
    Once his computer finished booting up,
Greg started his classical playlist. As the music swelled out into
the living room, he relaxed into the couch sipping his coffee. He
kept half an eye on Margaret and could see that she was caught up in
the music. He closed his eyes and let the music carry him away.
    He enjoyed this piece very much
himself, he had spent a lot of time checking out different versions
until he found the one he wanted. This one was a thirteen minute
version of Beethoven's ninth with Ode to Joy included. He'd always
used this piece to relax and recharge so he thought it was a good
choice for the current situation. It had an incredible tenor singing
in the original German, and the entry of the Ode to Joy section in
the middle of it was one his all-time favorite musical segues.
    As the piece was ending he opened his
eyes again. When he glanced at Margaret he saw that tears were
silently streaming down her face:
    “Are you alright?” he asked
her.
    “Did you know that the original
title of Ode to Joy was actually Ode to Freedom? The composer had to
change the title for fear of the consequences if he published it with
the original title. Letters he wrote to a friend late in his life
show that he regretted doing so and felt that he had compromised the
song by changing the title.”
    “No, I had no idea. I've just
always appreciated the music.”
    “If you do want a relationship of
any sort with me, you'll have to know more about me. This is probably
as good a time as any. This way it won't hurt as much if you change
your mind.”
    Greg got up and turned the music down
to a very low background noise that wouldn't intrude on their
conversation. He also noted that she hadn't specified who would be
hurt if he changed his mind and took that as a good sign.
    “Go ahead.”
    “Well, Ode to Joy is kind of a
theme song for me. Freedom is what I always wanted since I was young
but fear of consequences kept me from having it. My parents were
incredibly strict, rabid, bible-thumpers. I hope you aren't religious
at all so I don't offend you but they took their version of
Christianity to the degree of a cult. I wasn't even allowed to wear
pants once I became a teenager, it had to be dresses, and ones that
came down to at least mid-calf. Since they bought my clothes, when my
jeans disappeared, the dresses and skirts were all I had left to
wear. There were blouses and button down shirts to go with the
skirts, too. They thought that t-shirts were the devil's temptation
to sin since they tended to emphasize a woman's upper body more than
a proper blouse. I rarely had money of my own; they wouldn't even let
me babysit to earn money. They thought that if they controlled the
purse strings then they'd be able to control me better.
    When I became a teenager I, of course,
wanted to start dating. They wouldn't let me date until I was
seventeen. After my dad caught me necking in the car with a date that
was dropping me