“Do you think the pointers I’m giving you are helping?”
“I hope so. I’m only here for that.”
As the spoiled son of very rich people, Terrance felt entitled. But he was practically a virtuoso and his parents had chosen Julianne to give him lessons for the last year, even though he was enrolled at a private conservatory.
Turning away, she started toward the stereo system against the wall. “I’d like you to learn a new piece.”
“My favorite thing. We should’ve done it sooner. I killed the last one.”
She bit her tongue at his vanity. “Debussy, Violin Sonata in G Minor.” She went to press the recording, but his words stopped her.
“You know, I don’t like listening to these other people play the piece I’m learning. It kinda ruins putting my own stamp on it.”
She turned. Raised her brows. “I told you before that this is my method. I’m afraid you don’t have any choice.”
“I got a choice not to come.”
Somehow, she kept herself from flushing. She needed private students in order to keep her studio open. Still, she said with a blank face, “That is yours to decide. What will it be?”
His eyes narrowed on her. “I’ll listen, Ms. Julianne.”
Relieved when he left a half hour later, Julianne locked the door, and headed into the break room off to the side. She fixed herself some tea. The area held a recliner, another stereo system, a small microwave and an under-the-counter fridge. She turned on Clair de Lune, sat in the chair and sipped her Earl Grey’s. She’d do what she had to do to keep helping troubled kids through music therapy, even endure the likes of Terrance Chandler.
Meditation to music helped clear her head of the obnoxious young man. When she opened her eyes, she saw ten minutes had passed. Her next client was due at six and the girl was late. Oh, Lord, she hoped this one didn’t cancel.
Just as she walked out into the studio proper, there was a rap on the door. She hurried over, peeked out the window and opened it. “Madison, welcome back to the new school year.”
“Sorry, Ms. Ford.” She waved at her father in the car so he could leave. “My dad was late picking me up.”
“Well, you’re my last lesson tonight, so we can have a full hour.”
“You’re so nice.” She hid behind her reddish hair that fell into her forehead. “You, um, could charge me extra, but I’m not sure Daddy has the money for that.”
“No extra charge. Text your dad and tell him to come at seven thirty and he won’t have to pay more.”
Julianne knew Logan Rogers was a single parent and sole support of the family. On her sliding scale, she charged Maddie less. Her goal in establishing this music studio was to help students who couldn’t afford private lessons and also troubled kids in the schools.
Madison had a lot of potential and she was an excellent student. She could course correct immediately and had made major progress because of that. She sat down at the piano, went through her scales and other warm ups, then began to play a difficult concerto by Mozart. She made mistakes but this piece was tough. After forty-five minutes, Julianne said, “It’s time to stop, Maddie. You did a great job tonight. You probably won’t learn much after that workout, so we’ll approach it again next time with fresh ears.” She glanced at her watch. “Fifteen minutes till your dad gets here. Shall we work on your application?”
The girl nodded.
They sat at a table off to the side near the built-in shelves that covered one wall. When she pulled out the girl’s file, and saw the letterhead Julliard School of Music, she felt warmth rush through her. After college, she’d gotten a fellowship/grant to attend Julliard to get her Master’s Degree. She’d totally enjoyed her time there. But her little charge seemed less enthusiastic. Her green eyes held concern. “What’s wrong, Maddie?”
“I’m trying not to get my hopes up for a scholarship, and even if I get one, I’ll need some other money that Daddy can’t afford.”
“You’ll qualify for a student job, like I did. I worked in the staff daycare facility. I had music time with little kids which was so much fun.”
“I could do that! I want to. All right. I’m going to try to be optimistic.”
“That’s my girl.”
At 7:15 a knock sounded on the door. “It’s Daddy.” She rushed over.
“Don’t open the door. We have to check who it is.”
Indeed, Logan Rogers stood outside on the stoop. “Hello, Mr. Rogers.”
“Please,” he said with a smile. “I sound like that TV neighborhood guy. I told you last year to call me Logan.”
His face lit up when he caught sight of his daughter. “Hi, sweetheart. How was your lesson?”
“Great.”
He turned back to Julianne. “Thanks for being flexible. I couldn’t get away from a client to get here on time for the lesson.” Maddie had said he sold insurance.
“No worries. Would you like some tea?” Last year, occasionally, when he picked up Maddie, and Julianne had no more lessons, he stayed a bit.
He looked to his daughter. “Are you in a hurry to get home, Madison?”
“Nope. I can do homework here.” She patted the table where she was sitting.
While he saw that his daughter was settled, Julianne made tea in the back room. Soon, he came in and took a seat at the small table. When he sipped the chamomile drink, he said, “Hmm. Very soothing.”
“After a long day it soothes me, too.”
“Don’t you start at three when kids get out of school?”
“Some days. Other days I go into the schools to work with kids who have behavioral problems.”
“You’re a good person, Julianne.”
“Thank you.”
He picked up a book she’d left open on the table. “Are you reading this now?”
They both liked literature and shared their preferences. He was an excellent conversationalist. A good father. And, she thought today, very attractive with hazel eyes and dark hair. Hmm, she hadn’t noticed that last year.
* * *
Finn rang the bell at his aunt’s house and Seth opened the door. “Hey, buddy.”
“Hi, cuz. I’m sorry I didn’t get out here to see you again.” Finn had visited only once since his injury with Hayley, his sister and Seth’s best friend.
“No worries. Come on in.”
They walked to the kitchen that Finn remembered from his childhood. Homey. Warm. Loving. Smells of good food tinged the air. Growing up, his kitchens at home were cold and sterile and had been occupied by a paid cook.
“Want some coffee? We can take it outside to sit on the patio.”
“I’d love some.”
They sat under the umbrella table, and Finn stared out at the lawn with its myriad of flowers, oak trees and green grass. “I hate seeing summer end.”
“Yeah, I’m surprised you’re not at the marina today. You usually go out on the boat Fridays after work.”
“Not today. I wanted to see you again.”
“I’m honored to be chosen over an afternoon on the water.”
Finn punched him playfully in the arm. “Sure you are.”