Splintered Heart Read Online Free PDF

to pretty music!"
    There was dead silence. No one laughed. No one seemed to realize that she was joking. And that was scary — that was the moment when Marian realized that being thirty was serious.
    Marian enrolled in a twice-a-week sewing course, a one-year program that would progress from machine techniques to cutting, draping, pattern making and fine tailoring. "Sewing might just turn out to be very productive," Marian decided. A new, specific skill might get her out of the department store world and into a more creative vocation.
    Despite her father's theory, "A young person, once set on course, cannot change directions", Marian was determined to change directions.
    Two other nights a week, she attended music classes in advanced harmony and composition. Marian had a tune humming around in her head, a simple melodic line that exploded into chords and dissonance. She'd had it in her mind for a long time. Immediately after the second class, she started noting it down on music paper — symphonic variations — "For My Father," was the title.
    "It isn't too late for me to become a composer," she told him in her mind. "Some of the greatest were late bloomers!"
    Never before had Marian worried about losing time, but now she was. Monday sometimes became Friday before she had time to figure out what date or what day of the week it was. She was always hurrying. There weren't enough hours in the day, or enough minutes in the hour. She felt as if she were racing, running, sometimes getting out of breath. When once upon a time, a week was like a year, after that thirtieth birthday a year sometimes seemed like a week.
    It was on Marian's thirty-third birthday that she bought herself a spinet. It was for her bedroom. She'd been practicing and composing on the Baldwin in the living room. The symphonic variations were evolving too slowly; she wanted to re-score them as a chamber concerto. While the small spinet did not have the volume or resonance of a grand, it gave Marian the ability to work on her music in privacy.
    But Hannah came knocking on the bedroom door because there was a photo in a magazine she wanted to show her daughter, or because she remembered something she wanted her daughter to pick up at the store. She would interrupt to remind Marian about a leaky faucet. Or to discuss a letter that had to be sent to the lawyer. Or to talk about the headache she had and the fact that her blood pressure was up.
    Things were changing at the store too. There were frictions, frustrations. Marian was doing more and more of the Executive Manager's work. Nobody gave her special praise or special attention anymore, it was considered part of her job. Promotion of some sort was again overdue, it was certainly time for an increase in salary, but nobody seemed concerned.
    " You used to take people for granted, now they take you for granted," Marian observed, trying to figure out how to improve the situation at work and the situation at home. A long time ago, but it seemed like such a short time ago, Marian had felt as if she was the very center of the whole world. Now, she knew better — the feeling of self importance had been childish foolishness.
    Certainly she could practice a little more quietly and even, perhaps, a little less frequently. What Mamma wanted was just as important as what Marian wanted, and keeping things smooth and peaceful in their nice home was essential.
    "It's LIFE." Marian shrugged off the sense that she was losing something very precious. Conceding a little here and a little there was simply a matter of getting a little older and wiser.
    The Executive Manager announced he was retiring the end of the season. It was time to negotiate with the owners, but Marian kept postponing it. It was not a black and white situation. She was not sure how much of a raise she ought to ask for; she was not even certain she wanted to take on the higher position or the greater responsibilities a promotion entailed.
    Everything seemed just