Page 71 of Echoes of a Silent Song
Keira tapped her phone.“Yeah, his bio says he graduated with a double major in composition and choral music education from the University of Illinois at Chicago, and he has a master’s in choral conducting from UIUC.No mention of Whitehall.”
“If I’d gone to Whitehall, I’d sure mention it in my bio,” Blair said.“It’s like the Juilliard of the Midwest.”
“Does it say anything about his composition teachers?”Callum asked.“I can’t remember off the top of my head who he studied with.”
Keira rattled off a couple of names, neither of which meant anything to Blair.
Callum perked up.“The second one sounds familiar.”
Keira once again consulted her phone.“Okay, I googled the name, and that professor was at Whitehall.So it’s possible Mr.Nelson attended there but never graduated.Any ideas why that might be?”
The door to the choir room opened, and Dad poked his head in.“Blair?Are you—Oh, I’m sorry.”He glanced at the reporters and cameraman.“Didn’t realize I was interrupting.I needed to drop something off.Is this a bad time?”
“Kinda.”Blair grinned an apology.“We’re just being interviewed about the piece we found in the choir library.Turns out Iris Wallingford did write it, if Peggy Sue Weldon’s memory serves.”
“Funny you mention Iris, because Bob Porter from the alumni association had some information for me.Nothing that needs to be on camera, probably, but it might help.”
“Well, pull up a chair.”Keira stood and shook Dad’s hand.“Mike, nice to see you again.”
“How’s that new Journey treating you?”he asked with a grin.
“Runs like a dream,” Keira replied.
Dad turned toward Callum.“And you must be the new choral director.”
Callum stood and extended a hand.“Yes, sir.Callum Knight.Pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise.I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Callum’s eyes flicked toward Blair.“Uh-oh.That could go any number of directions.”
Blair made a face.“It’s all good things.Well.Okay.Mostly good things.”
Dad strolled over to the far end of the risers.“Just pick up where you left off.”
“We just discovered Vic Nelson was accepted to the Whitehall Conservatory in Chicago and apparently studied under one of their composition teachers, but none of his degrees are from there,” Keira said.“We’re trying to figure out what happened.”
Dad took off his glasses and polished them on his navy-blue Emerson Dodge polo shirt.“Well, Bob said he and Vic Nelson were both drafted that year.Bob’s birthday was called second, and he told me Vic’s birthday was also drawn pretty early in the draft.But I don’t think Vic ever served—he certainly never said anything if he did—so he’d have to have had some type of deferment or exemption.A physical ailment, conscientious objector status ...”
“Or college.”Keira’s lips curved.
Blair frowned.“But deferment wouldn’t have been dependent on where he went to college, right?So that still wouldn’t explain him not going to Whitehall.”
“Money, maybe?”Keira asked.
Callum leaned forward.“You’d think that might be the case, but with Whitehall it’s the opposite.There are a couple of very exclusive music schools—Curtis in Philadelphia being the main one—that are tuition-free.At least, Whitehall was tuition-free when I applied there.Maybe it was different back in the seventies.”
Blair glanced toward Callum.“You applied to Whitehall?”
He shrugged.“Yeah, but I didn’t get in.Just like a lot of people.”
“Like me.”She waved a hand with a self-deprecating grin.“I didn’t expect to, though.It was a total lark.Went to UIUC instead.”
Callum grinned.“And I went to Michigan.”
She studied him, the green in his eyes catching the light.What would it have been like if they’d both wound up in Chicago?If there were no Derek for her, no Rayne for him.Would they have escaped some of the scars they carried with them all these years later?Or would they have simply received different ones?Perhaps even at the hands of each other?
God knew.His best for both of them hadn’t been Whitehall.And forwhatever reason, he’d allowed the pain of Derek and Rayne to penetrate their lives and bruise their hearts.
