“That you’ve seen worse, or done worse, or had worse. Itmakes me…” Jasper stared at him.
“It makes you what?”
“Tell me about what you’ve been through, Nicky. The thingsyou’ve seen. I want to know. You shouldn’t be carrying it all by yourself. Iwant to help.”
Nicky stood up from adjusting the height of the keyboardstand and shoved the hair off his forehead. He let out a long breath. “Let goof the savior complex, Jazz. It’s fine. Besides, there’s too much.”
Jasper stared at him and then finally nodded. “Okay. Butwhen something comes up, tell me. I can handle the truth about your past. There’snothing you did or saw that could change how I feel, or the respect I have foryou.”
Nicky swallowed, relief rushing under his skin when Lizzieand Jason, along with Amberlynn and Gus, came bursting through the door to therec room, chattering, shoving, and laughing. Jasper snapped back intoauthority-figure mode, and Nicky edged his way toward the stairs as Jazzscolded and guided the kids toward a calmer deportment.
“I need to talk to Mrs. Wells, and then we can go,” Jaspersaid, as they headed back downstairs.
Nicky waited outside in an empty corner of the courtyard. Hetilted his head back, letting the late afternoon sun wash him clean. Thesteeple stabbed into the sky, piercing the edge of the sun. The humid air washot, but it felt good on his skin. Real and pure. Piano chords, like shafts oflight, filled his mind. He could almost make out a song in them, and lyricsthat didn’t hurt shifted somewhere under his skin.
Jasper’s hand on his shoulder pulled him out of the silentmeditation. “Do you want to get take-out? Or can I cook for you tonight?”
A weird sensation settled over Nicky, a breathless certaintythat in some alternate universe where different choices had been made thatquestion had been asked and answered many times.
“Whatever you want,” Nicky said, shoving his hands in hispockets, as Jasper’s fingers burned into his shoulders.
“I should stop by and check that Dizzy has food. And get mybike. I fixed the tire.”
“All right. I’m sure my mom’s got something in the fridge wecan heat up. She stocked it before she left. Worried I’d starve, I guess.”
“That sounds good to me if it works for you.”
Nicky nodded, hearing the sweet sound of the kids singingsome religious song, led undoubtedly by Mrs. Wells, and his heart gave a hardthump. “It sounds great.”
When they got to Nicky’s house, they changed into shorts andT-shirts and stuck their feet into the pool before heading back inside to starta late lunch. Nicky hadn’t had much at the picnic besides ice cream.
The afternoon had such a warm, domestic feel that swung Nickybetween a sense of perfect rightness, and a terrifying knowledge that it wouldn’tlast. When Jazz put Nicky’s plate of re-heated meatloaf down in front of him,he was tempted to slap his ass and say, “Thanks, wife” to break the sweetnessof the day and point out the dangerous line they were treading.
He’d been an idiot to ask Jasper to babysit him. He’d havebeen safer on his own.
“This is good,” Jasper murmured over his food. “Your mom’singredients always taste so fresh.”
Nicky smiled and lifted his water glass. “To Meryl Reed’s butchershop. May they always prevail over the giant grocery store’s meat department.”
Jasper drank to that and a silence settled over the tablethat wasn’t awful and wasn’t good either. It was a silence of expectation.Something had to be said. Something had to happen. And it needed to come anysecond now or Nicky was going to blurt out something stupid.
Jasper wiped his mouth and smiled at him. “You’re good withthe kids, Nicky. It’s clear that Lizzie idolizes you.”
“She’s fun to teach. I’m glad to help her learn to playkeyboard. She says she wants to start guitar too.” He stopped short of saying, “IfI’m not here when she’s ready for that, I’ll pay for her lessons.” Thatconversation could happen when the time came.
“Yes, she’s very invested in learning. Music can be sohealing. I’m glad you’re giving this gift to her.”
Nicky shrugged and pushed hair out of his face, heatprickling his neck.
“And Jason, too. He’s been a tough nut to crack, but you’vegot him in the palm of your hand.”
“They’re good kids and they like music. We have that incommon. It makes it easy. They’re the ones doing all the work. For me, it’sfun.”
Jasper tilted his head, considering. “So you like teachingthem?”
“Sure. They’re so into it. It reminds me that music can beenjoyable. It doesn’t have to be about figuring out the shit in my head, and itdoesn’t have to be a lifeline to sanity, or the chains that make me a slave tocorporate assholes.” Nicky’s lips twisted. “It can be about making a connectionto another person.” He smiled. “How cool is that?”
Jasper grinned in response. “Yeah. Pretty cool. How wouldyou feel about working with kids like them on a regular basis? I think you haveso much to offer and you obviously enjoy it. Do you think you’d be interested?”