A Time To Forgive

Jaye smiled back. “Okay, Abby.”

“Now are you ready for the lesson?”

Jaye nodded.

“Settle the instrument into playing position and let’s do a D scale. Remember to keep your fingers curved and the bow flat on the strings.”

Her lower lip thrust forward in concentration, Jaye did exactly as she was told.

For the next forty-five minutes, Abby tried to focus on the techniques involved in giving a student her first lesson. But every time Jaye played a scale, Abby’s mind wandered to Connor and the conversation she’d promised to have with him.

She wasn’t sure why, but she had the strong impression it wouldn’t go her way.

CONNOR STOOD OUTSIDE THE DOOR of Abby’s duplex a few minutes before he was due to pick up Jaye, listening to the sounds of his niece playing the violin.

She wasn’t anywhere close to a performer’s level of proficiency, but he recognized that she was playing a song.

He felt an odd pride that Jaye could coax any sound at all from the instrument, let alone identifiable notes. Maybe Abby was right. Maybe she did have a talent for the thing.

Not wanting to interrupt the lesson, he tried the door and found it unlocked. He slipped inside, making a mental note to tell Abby that she really should use her dead bolt. Jaye stood in front of a music stand, her concentration fully engaged. Abby was off to one side, looking over her shoulder.

Her eyes met his and held. The air between them seemed to charge with awareness, but then she put a finger to her lips. Maybe he’d only imagined the connection because he wanted it to be there. By adamantly refusing his dinner invitation, she certainly hadn’t given him any reason for hope. But hope he did.

Jaye finished the song, a small smile of triumph on her lips. It faded when she caught sight of Connor.

“That was good, Jaye,” Connor said, but the girl didn’t respond. He stifled a groan. What was it going to take for him to build a relationship with her?

“Your uncle’s right. It was good,” Abby told the girl. “You’ll be graduating to more difficult songs before you know it. Just remember to practice at least twenty minutes every day so you don’t forget what we went over.”

“I always practice more than that.”

“That’s great. You know what they say. Practice makes…”

“Perfect,” the two of them said in unison, then laughed.

When Jaye started to pack up, Abby came directly toward him. His pulse sped up until he realized she only meant to hand him a sheet of paper.

“I wrote down the name of a beginning violin book I’d like you to buy before the next lesson. Any of the area music stores should have it in stock.”

“I’ll do it,” he promised, even as he wondered when he’d have the time.

She’d started to retreat when Jaye stopped her with a loud whisper. “Aren’t you going to ask him?”

“Ask me what?” he said.

“Can I use the bathroom, Abby?” Jaye said before she could answer. It didn’t escape Connor’s notice that she used her teacher’s first name, which Abby must have authorized. Good. The child needed a female role model in her life, and Abby fit the bill. The more comfortable Jaye felt around her, the better.

“Sure. It’s upstairs, first door on the right.” Abby waited until the girl was halfway up the stairs before turning to him. “Jaye wants me to talk to you about her after-school care.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Why can’t she talk to me about it herself?”

Abby shrugged. “I get the impression she thinks you’ll pay more attention if it comes from me.”

He frowned, troubled by the notion that Jaye thought he wasn’t paying enough attention to her. He knew firsthand how that could undermine a child’s confidence. Connor had grown up in the shadow of a younger brother so athletically gifted he’d stolen the spotlight whenever he’d taken a field or a court.

Their parents had dwelled so heavily on J.D.’s accomplishments that it often seemed as though they had little time left for him and Diana. After J.D. had died, they’d become even more hyper-focused on him. Not that Connor had resented his brother for any of that. He’d loved J.D., too. Everybody had.

“What about Jaye’s after-school care?” he asked Abby.

“She hates it.”

He sighed because he’d expected the answer. “I’m not completely oblivious to what’s going on with her. One of the teachers there told me she wasn’t mixing well with the other students.”

“Then you won’t be surprised that she wants you to make other arrangements for her.”

“I’m ahead of you on that. I already got the names of the day-care centers in the area that can pick her up after school.”

“That’s great.”

“No, it’s not. All of them were full. Since I can’t get off work at three o’clock every day, she’s stuck. I don’t have anywhere else for her to go.”

“Maybe the mother of one of her friends will take her.”

“As far as I know, she hasn’t made any real friends.” He thought of the way Jaye had smiled at Abby and called her by her first name. “Except you.”

“Unfortunately that also doesn’t help you,” she said, “because I can’t take her.”

“Why not?” Now that the solution had occurred to him, it seemed perfect. “I’d pay you.”

“It’s not a matter of money. I give private lessons after school four days a week. A child would be bored to tears.”

“Not a child who loves music,” he argued.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” Abby said slowly.

“You don’t want me, either, do you, Abby?” The small voice came from the staircase. Jaye sat frozen in place on one of the middle steps, looking small and vulnerable. And very, very sad.

“It’s not that, honey,” Abby tried to reassure her. “I’m just afraid you wouldn’t like being here while I was giving lessons.”

The misery in Jaye’s expression ebbed, but only slightly. “I wouldn’t be bored. I could watch TV or play games on your computer.”

“Or, better yet, read and do homework,” Connor added. To Abby, he said, “What do you say? Are you willing to give it a shot?”

A part of him knew he was being unfair to Abby by putting her on the spot, but a bigger part wanted her to agree. Because then not only would Jaye get to see Abby more often, he would, too.

Jaye held her body tautly, with her shoulders hunched, as though expecting a blow. It couldn’t be more clear that she expected to be rejected.

Abby realized it, too. Connor could tell by the way her mouth softened while she regarded the child.