Page 22 of Still My Forever
He nodded.
She set her chair into gentle motion, a sweet smile curving her lips. “You’re welcome, Gil, but I enjoy baking. In fact, if you’re able to get a boys’ band started, I’d be happy to make cookies for them, too.” Teasing glinted in her eyes. “I’ll even hide a couple in my pocket for you so you’ll be sure and get some.”
Gil blasted a laugh. “So you noticed I haven’t had a treat yet?” He settled fully into his chair and pushed his feet against the porch floor, sending the chair into motion.
She nodded. “Yes. There’s one piece of gingerbread left from tonight’s practice. Would you like it?”
He wanted it, but if he said yes, she’d get up and go inside. He wanted her continued company more than he wanted the cake. “Thank you, but save it for your breakfast tomorrow.”
She shrugged and continued rocking. The chairs’ runners created soft, rhythmic creaks against the porch floorboards, their alto timbre harmonizing with the crickets’ soprano. An unusual yet somehow pleasant serenade.
Sitting there rocking was nice, but if he didn’t engage her in conversation, she might go in. He sought a topic that wouldn’t be considered too personal. “So…what do you think about forming a boys’ band in Falke?”
“The idea itself is good.” She answered so promptly, he had the feeling she’d already been mulling it over. “Other communities—Aiken, McPherson, Canton, Windom, Moundridge, and Lindsborg—already have boys’ bands. Falke is smaller than any of those towns, but I think the townsfolk will respond well to forming one here.”
Although her words held affirmation, something in her tone raised a hint of uncertainty in Gil’s mind. “But…?”
She shot him a side-eye glance. “But I wonder if it’s kind to get the boys excited about a band when it will only be for a short amount of time. After all, you’ll be leaving at the end of the summer.”
He wished he knew for sure if she anticipated or dreaded his upcoming leave-taking. “That is my intention, yes.” He stopped his chair and frowned across the shadowy yard. “I have to keep trying, Ava. You said yourself that I’m meant to use the baton. The best place for me to learn and grow is New York City.”
“Jo, that is true.”
“There is a job waiting for me there. Not as a conductor, but as a teacher.” He hadn’t intended to divulge the offer from the school. The comfortable setting and easy conversation had loosened his tongue. Now that he’d stated it aloud, another idea trickled through his mind. “Working with the boys here in town would be good practice for the teaching position.”
Now her lips pursed again. “So you would use them and then abandon them?”
He aimed his frown at her. “No.”
She arched her brows.
He considered what he’d said. “But I understand why it might seem that way.” He started rocking again. “I’ll make it clear from the beginning that this boys’ band is for the summer only. Will that keep the boys from feeling abandoned when it’s time for me to go?”
“Maybe.”
He’d expected her to say yes. “Maybe?”
She sighed. “Some of the boys will understand, but some of them…like Timmy, who needs more than a few weeks of someone paying attention to him…will still feel abandoned when you leave.”
“Are you saying I shouldn’t start it at all?”
“I’m saying you need to tread carefully. Don’t let them become dependent on you.” She didn’t look at him while she spoke, but he suspected if he were able to peer into her eyes, he’d see a hidden hurt from when he’d let her down. “Teach them what you know about music, the way Mr. Goertz taught you, but don’t build personal relationships with them. Then it will be easier for them to bid you farewell.”
He’d owed her a thank-you and had delivered it. He also owed her an apology. It would be harder to express, but it should be said. He gathered his courage. “Ava, I—”
“For Timmy’s sake, I truly hope there will be a boys’ band. I’d hate to see that little boy’s newly sprouted dream crushed. It’s getting late. I should go in.” She stood. “As I said, if you form the band and you’d like me to provide treats, I’m willing to do so. Good night, Gil.” She hurried inside and snapped the door closed behind her.
Chapter Eleven
Ava
Ava spent a restless night.Sitting with Gil in the twilight had brought back so many wonderful memories of long conversations. Some of them laughter filled and others serious in tone or laced with tears, but all woven into her life’s tapestry. Along with, it seemed, her love for Gil. Mama had promised to ask God to rid her of it. Why hadn’t God answered? But then, Ava wasn’t helping herself by consenting to join him on the porch. And why had she offered to bake cookies for the band he intended to start? Delivering them to practice would mean spending more time with Gil. Only snatches of time—mere minutes—but every minute with Gil was torture, knowing he would leave again. Why had he come back to Falke at all?
Her red-rimmed eyes staring back at her from her mirror in the morning as she fashioned her hair into its plump bun on the crown of her head taunted her. Mama’s heart was weak, but her senses and sight were sharp. Would she notice and question Ava? If so, Ava wouldn’t divulge the real reason. On Fridays, she dusted and swept the whole house. They’d been leaving their windows open more to bring in a breeze, and the breeze carried dust. She could say her eyes were bothered bystirring up the tiny particles. If she started cleaning before Mama was up, the story would be more believable.
She hurried through her morning routine and applied the feather duster to all the furniture in the parlor before she went to the kitchen to start breakfast. But her ruse wasn’t necessary. Papa came into the kitchen alone.
He settled at the small table in the middle of the room and held out his empty coffee cup. “Your mother wants to walk to town later this morning, so she is spending a little extra time in bed to be fully rested for the excursion.”