Page 15 of His Surrender
“A misunderstanding was all that happened between us,” I responded. It was more or less true. “Things are okay now.”
He nodded and looked at his bass clarinet. I went over the basics of the instrument then and answered his many questions, all the while keeping part of my attention still on a certain blond.
Perhaps there was more to Jay Foley than what met the eye.
The session with Foster lasted for about an hour, and by the time the first bell rang that sent all the kids hurdling toward their classes, he seemed more confident. All he’d needed was some one-on-one time and a little guidance. He had a talent for music.
“Thanks, Mr. Barnett,” Foster said, after putting away his instrument and jogging toward the door. A few kids met him outside the band room and walked off with him, the five of them talking excitedly about what sounded like a video game.
I was glad Foster was making friends. His first semester, he’d been a major loner. I’d often seen him eating alone at lunch and standing by himself before school started. Over the past week, though, I’d seen him start hanging with a new group—all good kids.
The day continued as usual; I taught middle school band students in the morning and high school after lunch, with a free period between to work on music arrangements and brainstorm the end of school year concert. I stayed in my office for an hour after school just in case a student needed anything, and then I got in my car and left.
My day had been going great despite a weird start to the morning with Jay. So, of course, that nice day went to shit with the simple ringing of my phone. It didn’t matter how many years passed with me being out of his house, just seeing his name flash across my screen was enough to freeze my insides.
“Yeah?” I answered, turning down the stereo that’d been blasting my favorite easy-listening jazz station.
“Is that any way to greet your father?” Dale Barnett said in response, his voice just as cold as always. Colder, even.
I bit my tongue to keep from saying what I really wanted to—that he was no father of mine.
“Have you given any more thought to my offer?” Dale asked when I said nothing.
“My answer won’t change,” I said, my jaw tightening. “I’m happy with my career.”
“As a lowly high school band teacher?” The disgust in his voice had its own physical form almost, a dark shape with even darker eyes and a downturned mouth. “I raised you to be better than that, Remington. I’m offering you so much more at my company, a company that has been in our family for generations. You’re just too stubborn and too ungrateful to seize the opportunity.”
“Yeah. I’m so ungrateful for not wanting to uproot my entire life for a job I have no passion for.”
Dale scoffed. “Who needs passion when you have financial security? Assets? You’re wasting your life at that school.”
“I’m helping kids,” I shot back. “For many of them, all they have is music. It’s the one thing that gets them through the day.”
I was speaking from experience too. When my mom passed, music was what saved me. How many of my students went home at the end of the day to bad environments? How many of them put in earbuds, closed their eyes, and counted down the days until they could leave their shitty lives? If I could reach just one of them, that’s what mattered.
“You let Johnathan fill your head with rubbish,” he said. “You need to grow up and do what’s best.”
“Best for who?” I said through clenched teeth, my grip tightening on the steering wheel. “For me or you? Because I’m happy.”
I’m happy despite the hell you put me through.
“When you’re ready to make something of yourself, give me a call,” Dale snapped before disconnecting the call.
I tossed my phone in the passenger’s seat and worked on the breathing technique my therapist had taught me all those years ago. I tended to have anxiety attacks in all kinds of situations, but mostly if I was overwhelmed or experienced a sudden bout of stress—which Dale Barnett gave me in spades.
In no mood to cook, I ordered takeout from the Thai place down the street and walked over to pick it up. The wind was cool, but the sun was warm, though the days were still too short for my liking as the sun inched toward the horizon. I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets and waited at the crosswalk for the signal to cross.
The men in my family had all worked at Barnett Industries, a company started by my great-grandfather when he was just twenty years old—a fact Dale liked to drive into my head over and over.“So young and he already had so much success. You could learn a thing or two from him.”
At twenty-eight, I was proud of where I was in life, and I didn’t need a six-figure salary to feel that way.
After grabbing my food, I walked back to my apartment and spent the rest of the evening alone. And as I got into bed that night, I couldn’t help but think of a certain blond with the prettiest green eyes I’d ever seen.
***
Jay didn’t come to the 906for the show the following Saturday night. He didn’t come to the one the next week either. I guess he’d been serious when he said he wouldn’t “bother”me again, but I hadn’t expected him to disappear.
This is what I wanted.
