How to play a piano with nine fingers

I got my RSV vaccination this morning and am both nauseated and sleepy this evening, so I will make this quick.

Margie has not forgotten her social graces. She always asks me, "How do you spend your time?" in the sweetest and most congenial way possible. 

Every week, I tell her what I've been up to, usually including, "I'm taking piano lessons." Every week she is surprised to hear it and even more surprised to discover that I only have nine fingers. (My left hand is missing a finger because an uncle cut off my pinky finger when I was three. Not by accident.) This week Margie was particularly interested in how a person might play piano with nine fingers, as her right pinky finger won't bend, so she would have to play with nine if she played at all. After moving her fingers as she imagines a person would have to move them to play the piano, she concluded that although it might be possible for her to play, she doesn't want to start learning now. "My mind is not reliable," she explained. "I never was one for indoor activities. I'd rather be out in nature." Nature today was suddenly quite cold after some days of heat, and Margie was annoyed. "I'm tired of winter. It better get warm soon."

"Or what?" I asked, and then she threw back her head laughing.

"Or the sky will have to answer to me!"