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His hair was disheveled, as though he’d been running his fingers through it. Smudges appeared under his eyes, and he seemed at a loss.
“She’s been like this since I picked her up at the school,” he explained. “Granted I was a little late—”
“Fifteen minutes late,” Jaye interjected.
Connor finished the sentence at the same time. “But it was only fifteen minutes.”
“I was the last one there,” Jaye said unhappily.
Abby rubbed the girl’s shoulder, silently conveying that she understood. She had experience dealing with children of this age. Promptness might not seem like that big of a deal, but every minute counted when a child was waiting to be picked up.
Especially a child whose mother had left her and hadn’t come back. Couldn’t Connor see that?
“I’m sure your uncle didn’t mean to be late, Jaye,” Abby told the girl in a soothing voice.
“He’s late all the time,” Jaye said.
“Some of the time,” Connor clarified.
“And now we’re late for the lesson.” Jaye glanced at the clock, which showed the time at twenty-five minutes before seven. “There’s only ten minutes left.”
“I don’t usually do this.” Abby never did this. “But you’re my last lesson of the day. How about we go until seven-twenty. That way, you won’t miss a minute.”
Jaye’s tears stopped flowing. “Really? You’d do that?”
“I most certainly will. Go over to the sofa and take your instrument out of the case. Will you do that, Jaye?”
“Sure,” she said and headed away from them.
“Thanks,” Connor said. “You’re saving my life.”
He looked so relieved that she nearly let him off the hook but realized she couldn’t. For Jaye’s sake. “This is a one-time thing,” she said quietly. “From now on, you need to get her here on time.”
He swiped a hand over his brow and lowered his own voice. “I don’t have the kind of job where it’s that easy to leave at a prearranged time. Clients call. They’re paying me for my time. I can’t just hang up on them.”
“You’re going to have to figure something out,” she said.
“I know that. I just don’t know what it’s going to be.”
His vulnerability touched a chord deep inside her. “Maybe we can talk about it later. But for now, Jaye’s waiting for her lesson. You can pick her up at about twenty after seven.”
“Would it be okay if I stuck around?” He lifted his portable computer. “I have a couple things I need to check online. Any flat surface will do. Your kitchen table would be great.”
She glanced at the still-sniffling Jaye. She sensed that something more serious than Connor showing up late was bothering her. Jaye would never reveal what it was if she thought her uncle could overhear.
“I find that my students do better without their parents—or in this case, their uncle—in the room.” She nodded toward the door. “Seven-twenty.”
She expected him to argue, but instead he asked, “Any suggestions on a place I could go for forty-five minutes?”
“There’s a public library a half mile down the road. It has lots of cubicles, all with flat surfaces.”
He tipped a nonexistent hat to her, said goodbye to a nonresponsive Jaye and left. Pasting a smile on her face, Abby turned to the girl. “Are you ready for your lesson?”
Jaye nodded, but made no move to pick up her violin from the open case. Abby lifted the delicate instrument, turning it over while she examined it. It was a rental from a popular music store, adequate for a beginner but not of the caliber Abby suggested for her more serious students. For now, though, it would do.
She handed the violin to Jaye. The girl took it but didn’t lift the instrument onto her shoulder the way Abby had taught her in class.
“What’s wrong, Jaye?”
“I already told you. Connor was late picking me up.” Jaye’s lower lip thrust forward, but the way it trembled betrayed that something more serious than her uncle’s tardiness distressed her.
“Okay,” Abby said, sensing that Jaye would clam up if she tried to force a confidence. “If that’s all it is, then let’s start the lesson.”
Jaye nodded, but her violin remained at her side. Staring at a point on the carpet, she said, “Remember when I told you my mother was dead? Well, I said that because I wish she was dead.”
Abby swallowed a cry of dismay and forced herself to speak in gentle, even tones. “You don’t mean that, honey. Whatever your mother’s done, she’s still your mother.”
“I hate her.” Jaye sniffed but didn’t cry. “She left me with Uncle Connor.”
“Your uncle seems okay to me.”
She shrugged. “He is okay. But he doesn’t have time for me. He doesn’t pick me up from school till six o’clock and half the time he’s late.”
“He has to work, Jaye.” Since Abby had taken Connor to task for putting in too much time at the office, she found it surreal that she was sticking up for him. “I imagine he’s doing the best he can. He didn’t plan on you coming to live with him.”
“He doesn’t want me any more than my mom does.”
Although Connor’s life would obviously be easier if his niece hadn’t come to live with him. Abby couldn’t let the girl paint him with such a negative brush stroke. “He’s your uncle, Jaye. I’m sure he loves you.”
“Then why can’t I come home after school and be with him?”
“I told you, Jaye. He has to work. And you’re not old enough to stay home alone.”
“I’m too old to hang out with the babies at day care.”
“Surely there are other children your age there.”
“They don’t want me there. They’re all boys. They barely talk to me. And they won’t let me play with them.”
Abby swallowed a sigh because she well understood how it felt not to be wanted. Jaye’s situation was doubly difficult. Not only had her mother left her, she was meeting with rejection in every direction she turned. “Have you talked to your uncle about how much you dislike the school-based day care?”
She nodded. “He says it’s the best he can do and that I need to stick it out.”
Abby had a sense that she’d regret her next question, but couldn’t keep from asking it. “I can’t promise anything but would you like me to talk to him for you?”
Jaye nodded eagerly, making Abby feel marginally less apprehensive about the offer. “Oh, yes, please, Miss Reed.”
Abby smiled at her. “When we’re not at school, you can call me Abby.”
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.
