“You know I’m not.”
I can tell he hears the shame in my whispered words because he backs off and changes the subject. I’m grateful for it.
“Heartless are headed to Australia and New Zealand at the end of the month to kick off the tour for the new album.”
I screw up my lips, trying to recall anything about the band’s new music. Not that long ago, I’d have known everything about The Hometown Heartless, but they’ve fallen off my list of interests in recent years. I’ve had to prioritize other things.
“That sounds like fun. I’ve always wanted to visit Australia. Quokkas are so cute.”
“Well, now you can.”
I arch a brow. “Now I can what?”
“Visit Australia.”
“How?”
“I have a proposition for you.”
“Okay?”
My eyes narrow in question, and I sit up straighter. A proposition that would allow me to visit Australia? I’m intrigued, despite knowing I shouldn’t be.
My attention darts to the timer on the stove, then out the kitchen window to the empty driveway. Brady isn’t home yet, but my next sentence still comes out quieter, almost conspiratorial.
“What kind of proposition?”
“My lead singer’s daughter tours with the band and does all her schooling online, but the high school courses have become more challenging. English is her worst subject, so Savannah is looking for a tutor.”
A pause stretches between us, and when my uncle doesn’t elaborate, I prod.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“I’m offering you the job.”
My brows rise as I drop my attention to the island countertop, possibilities sparking in my mind. I’ve always wanted to travel. I had a savings account and a rough plan to go backpacking through Europe after college, but as with most things I used to want, the urgency and importance have dulled.The money has been repurposed, and the dream has been set on a metaphorical shelf to collect metaphorical dust.
“I’ve never taught before,” I say absently, tracing my fingertip along the gray veining in the white marble.
“Brynn will be easy.”
“I have no experience with high school kids.”
“She’s twelve.”
My eyes widen. “She’stwelve? And taking high school courses?”
“Ninth-grade English and literature courses. She’s very bright for her age.”
“Sounds like it. I don’t have experience with twelve-year-olds either.”
“She’ll be easy,” Uncle Wade repeats. “She’s a hard worker. She studies. She wants to succeed.”
I fall silent once more, toying with the offer despite the impracticality of it. I did some tutoring in college. Never anyone under eighteen and never ninth-grade material, but I was good at it. I enjoyed it. I’d be using my degree, too, sort of. It's not how I’d originally wanted to use it, but still. Literature is relevant.
“How long?” I ask, letting myself entertain the fantasy further.
“Thirty-two shows between five cities. Melbourne, Adelaide, Sydney, Brisbane, and Auckland. We spend roughly ten to twelve days in each city. It’s eight weeks of touring total.”