Barron and Sylvia 45: Antique Treasures (Witchy Days Crossover)

This comes directly after Witchy Days 34. Also, a little spicy at the end.

The same evening, after the meeting at the Farchild home.

Thinking hard about everything they needed to do, Barron tried to clear his head a little by playing some of his favorite songs. 

However after a few minutes of the activity, he knew the music was doing the opposite of relaxing him.

Not because he couldn’t play it. 

But because he couldn’t play it on this damn piano!!!

“Aaaaah!” he screamed, after finally slamming all the keys angrily at once, giving his wife a start and scaring the teenagers upstairs enough that they ran down to see what was happening.

“What is wrong with you?” Sylvia gave him a look.

“What’s wrong with me?! You try playing smooth jazz on something that sounds like it went down with the Titanic, then spent time underwater getting chewed on by all sorts of sea life, jumped on by some elephants, and only then was brought into this house! That’s what’s wrong with me!” he complained.

“Ok?” Sylvia backed away a bit. “Well, can’t we just call in someone to tune it? Addie said Jonah didn’t play it much in his later years and he passed away like a decade ago, so it’s obviously been without a musician’s or tuner’s touch for years.”

“I’m sure my grandparents know some people who can fix it within a week,” Laurel offered.

Somehow, that set him off more.

“A week? A whole week? Are there that many people here with antique instruments that someone can’t be here within a day?” he complained.

“What’s all this really about?” Sylvia asked. This wasn’t her husband’s normal behavior.

“I just can’t deal with all this,” he grunted. “This not being able to do anything without someone else’s help. What in the world? I’m a grown man, I can take a look at a stupid piano myself.”

Sylvia would’ve warned against it – these things required professionals. But something told her such words won’t be taken well at the moment. Barron was clearly going through the same emotions she was dealing with lately and this was his way of dealing with them. A piano, even an antique one, could be replaced if broken. His peace of mind couldn’t.

And it was better for him to pay attention to the piano rather than to how ruffled up and flushed the teenagers were. She knew he was very liberally-minded, but he might not deal well with such coupling at the moment. She herself would have to check the condom box later to make sure proper precautions were taken.

Luckily, Addie gave them a key to the piano along with the house keys, so nothing had to be broken to open the lid. As soon as he lifted the cover his expression became one of confusion.

Barron: What the actual fuck?

Several minutes later, the contents of the piano were extricated: an ancient scroll, an expensive-looking crystal, a fancy ocean shell, several expensive stones, and in addition to a few smaller tidbits, a rusty-looking compass.

“Well,” Barron studied their haul. “I guess that explains why it was making such an irritating clunking noise. For real, I thought either the entire soundboard was messed up or the hammers and strings were broken off.”

“Who in the world stores stuff inside a piano?” Laurel asked the reasonable question.

“Someone who wanted to hide it, that’s who,” Xander decided.

“I can see why,” Sylvia agreed. She had to restrain herself from secretly grabbing something and keeping it for herself. “These things look expensive.”

“They kind of look like the things in her grandparents’ home,” Barron noted.

They all exchanged a look.

“Didn’t your Grandma say her father and the Wickhams used to be very close friends?” Sylvia asked Laurel.

“Yeah, they still are with Addie…” Laurel looked at her. “Do you think these things are theirs?”

“Well, we should call Addie and ask,” Sylvia decided. “Although…”

Her attention was drawn to the compass. There was something about it.

“Barron, isn’t that the same sign that was on that bracelet Toris always wears?” she asked, remembering why it looked familiar.

“I’d say it is.”

“Honey, do you think your grandparents would mind if something belonging to them was removed from them for very important and urgent reasons?” Sylvia asked Laurel.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine with it,” the girl replied. “From the looks of it, if this does belong to them, it’s been removed from them quite a few years ago.”

“Alright then. Babe, do you think you could hold the fort without me for a few days?” she turned to her husband. 

“What are you thinking of doing?” he asked.

“I’m thinking of being on the first available flight from here to the Stoneshields,” she announced. “I feel like this is kind of important. I feel like this little piece of metal is what all the ruckus is about over there – and something tells me it needs to get there sooner rather than later.”

“You’re going no matter what I say, right?” he asked. “Just please, please be safe. I hate that our daughter is there, I don’t want you involved in all that hubris.”

“I don’t think that’s up to us, hon,” she hugged him and he pulled her close. “Sometimes, life just throws hubris at you. And either it hits you square in the face, or you hit it back at those who threw it at you, but harder.”

“Well, you do you, and do the later, ok?” he smiled. “Don’t worry about me. I can hold the fort here.”

“I still don’t understand, how did all this stuff end up here?” Laurel kept on asking. “And why?”

“Well, you were surprised to see it here, weren’t you?” Xander pointed out.

“Well, duh, who wouldn’t be? Normal people don’t use pianos as storage bins.”

“Exactly. Meaning, if you wanted to hide something from someone, it would be a pretty perfect place to hide it!”

---

 

“What’s taking him so long? So much for spicing things up before the trip.” Sylvia’s flight was very early the next morning and she didn’t want to leave without a proper takeoff. But her husband somehow didn’t seem to catch on to why she made sure the kids were in bed early.

“Oh, hey…” he finally came in and appreciated her efforts. “How much time did I waste?”

“Enough that I’m considering calling it a night and taking an early nap,” she frowned. 

“Oh, shucks,” he feigned being wounded. “And here I thought I was setting the mood right by getting your favorite incense in the diffuser and warming that massage oil up. Perhaps I should go put it all away.”

“Oh?” she considered. “This does sound nice, when you put it that way.”

“Glad you think so. But now that we’re both on the same page…”

“You sure you won’t be too tired? It’s an early flight.”

“When was I ever tired? Let’s do this properly.”