Authors: Carrie Turansky
Ross dashed in the rear door and strode quickly through the store.
Marian looked up as he passed. “Back so soon?”
“I got halfway to the Arts Center and realized I grabbed Cam’s car key, but I forgot his house key. I need to take in Cam’s mail and check his house before he gets back tonight. Got to have those keys.”
Marian nodded, but a slight frown creased her forehead as she glanced toward the front of the store.
Were there other customers who needed help? He looked around, but he didn’t see anyone except Adrie behind the sales counter. Her back was toward him as she held her cell phone to her ear.
The last time he’d seen that key was this morning when he’d opened the store. Maybe he’d put them by the cash register. He cut through the café and headed for the sales counter.
Adrie closed her cell phone and dropped it in her skirt pocket. She turned and looked at him, her face pale, and her expression somber.
Ross’s steps stalled, his keys forgotten. “Are you okay?”
“That was the Minnesota Philharmonic.”
His stomach dropped. “What did they say?”
She shook her head. “They don’t want me to come out for an audition.”
A crazy mixture of elation and frustrations flooded him. “Did they say why?”
“They liked my CD. She said I have a lot of promise, but they have three other applicants with more experience. One who lives right there in Minneapolis, so…” She heaved a sigh. “I guess that’s that.”
He stepped behind the counter and slipped his arm around her shoulder. The top of her head barely reached his chin, making her seem more vulnerable. He didn’t want her to go to Minneapolis, but everything in him wanted to protect her from this kind of hurt. “I’m sorry, Adrie. I know you were hoping this was your ticket out of here.”
“Thanks.” She leaned against him. “She encouraged me to keep playing and get some more experience.” She shook her head. “How am I supposed to do that if no one will hire me?”
“Hey, this is just the first place you applied. It’s not the end of the road.” He reached down and lifted her chin. “Don’t give up yet. You’re a gifted musician. You just have to keep playing and working toward your goal.”
“I don’t know, Ross. What if this isn’t the right path for me?”
He studied her face. Was she having doubts because of this setback or because her feelings for him were changing? Hope kindled in his heart. “I’m sure if you keep on praying, the Lord will show you the way.”
Chapter Fifteen
A
drie checked her cell phone and reread Ross’s latest text message as she walked across the street toward Clarkson’s Photography studio.
Help! Kids are out of control. Can you come over and bring your flute?
Adrie chuckled and shook her head. She had no idea why he thought the flute would help, but he sounded desperate, so she’d grabbed her flute case and headed out.
Good thing Irene, Barb and Hannah had been at the bookstore, finishing an impromptu game of Scrabble with her grandmother when Adrie received Ross’s text. Irene had offered to stay and help Nana so Adrie could head over to Clarkson’s and meet Ross.
Adrie pushed open the studio door, and children’s voices greeted her. Her steps stalled. She blinked and took in the chaotic scene.
A harried young woman with short dark hair looked her way. She wore charcoal pants and a black sweater over a bright red turtleneck. A small foam football sailed across the room over her head. She spun around. “Hey, guys, this is not a playground. Put the ball down.”
The boy who had caught the ball looked about twelve and had red curly hair and large hazel eyes. He held on to the ball, but used it to bop a younger boy on the head, while a dozen or so other children moved around the room.
The woman smiled and looked her way. “I hope you’re Adrie.”
She nodded. “I am.”
“Good. Ross said you were on your way.” She smiled and offered her hand. “I’m Regina Silverton with the Division of Children and Family Services.”
“Adrie Chandler.” She shook Regina’s hand.
“Another case worker was supposed to come along today, but…as you can see, I’m on my own. It’s a challenge to keep kids occupied anytime, but put a dozen of them together in a small room with nothing to do but wait their turn, and you’ve got a real situation.” She chuckled. “But I don’t blame them. They’re excited about having their pictures taken.”
Ross walked into the room bringing back one of the boys from a photo session. His gaze connected with Adrie’s. Relief flashed across his face. “Hey. Thanks for coming.”
“Sure.” She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “I can see why you called in the reserves. How can I help?”
“I was hoping you might give a demonstration or a mini concert—something to keep the kids occupied.”
She nodded. “My teacher from Morrowstone is part of a program that brings musicians into schools. I went along and watched them a few times. Maybe I could use some of those ideas.”
“Great.”
“How many kids have you photographed so far?”
“Four down, nine to go.” He grinned. “They’re really great kids. Each one has a story. I don’t want to rush them through.”
Adrie’s gaze traveled around the room. The group included eight boys and five girls, who all looked around eight to twelve, although one little girl with long dark curls looked younger. The thought that each one waited for a family made her heart ache. Her parents might be far away, but she knew they loved her and there was a possibility of connection. These kids didn’t have that anchor.
She lifted a silent prayer.
Father, please help Ross capture what’s special about each child. Let these photos stir the hearts of everyone who sees them. And help these kids find families who will treasure them.
“Okay, everyone, look up here.” Regina clapped her hands to get the children’s attention. The children quieted and turned toward her. “I have a surprise for you. Please sit down.”
The children exchanged glances and took seats, except for the two oldest boys who leaned against the back wall.
“Michael, Noah, I’d like you to have a seat please.” Regina’s firm voice and steady gaze won the challenge, and the boys slid down the wall and sat on the floor.
“This is Ms. Chandler. I’d like you to give her your attention.”
Adrie’s stomach quivered. Watching experienced musicians present a program to children was different than doing it herself. But she sent off another prayer, straightened her shoulders and smiled at the kids. “How many of you have heard an orchestra play? Before you raise your hand, I’m not talking about seeing it on TV, I mean live and in person.”
Two girls raised their hands.
“Great. We don’t have a whole orchestra here today, but we do have one of the instruments.” She took out the three pieces of her flute. “Raise your hand if you know the name of this instrument.”
A little African-American girl, who looked about nine years old, lifted her hand. Her hair was styled in neat rows of braids with lavender beads dangling at the ends. She wore a cute purple jumper over a lavender turtleneck.
Adrie nodded to her.
“It’s a flute.” Confidence filled her voice, and her dark eyes sparkled.
“That’s right. Now here’s an even tougher question. An orchestra sometimes has up to one hundred musicians. But it’s divided into four sections. Can anyone tell me the name of one of those sections?”
The little girl with the braids raised her hand while the other children looked at each other with blank faces.
Adrie nodded to her again.
“The strings, woodwinds, brass, percussion, piano and the conductor. There’s six sections, not four.”
Adrie grinned. “You’re right. Sometimes the piano is considered part of the percussion section, but not always. And if you count the conductor there are six sections. And the flute is part of the—”
“Woodwinds,” the little girl said, then giggled and lifted her hand to cover her mouth. “Sorry, I forgot to raise my hand.”
Adrie cocked her head. “That’s right.” How did she know so much about music? Maybe Adrie could ask later. But right now she needed to keep moving or she was going to lose the attention of the boys who were already wiggling near the back wall.
Ross tapped one of those older boys on the shoulder and took him back for his photo session.
Adrie held up her flute. “As you can see, the flute has three main parts. We call them the foot joint, the middle or body joint, and the crown or head joint. This is the lip plate, and this is the tone hole.” She put it together, then demonstrated how she held the flute and matched her fingers to the keys. “This is a C scale.”
As the notes floated out into the room, the children exchanged smiles.
“Okay, now you know a little about the flute. I’m going to play a few songs for you, and I want you to listen and see how many you recognize.” Adrie launched into a series of familiar children’s folk songs.
The children leaned forward, watching her, some with mild interest and others with rapt attention. When she finished and lowered her flute, Regina applauded and the kids joined in. The little girl with the braids rose up to her knees and clapped, a smile wreathing her face.
For the next half hour, she kept the kids involved by asking questions and encouraging them to identify the songs. Ross came in and quietly tapped a child on the shoulder every few minutes.
Just as she was about to run out of ideas, Ross returned with the last little girl. “Hey, everybody, we’re done taking photos. You all did a great job. How about we give Ms. Chandler a hand for playing her flute for us?” He winked at Adrie, and the kids joined him with enthusiastic applause and a few whistles from the boys in the back.
Adrie took a bow. “Thanks very much. You’ve been a wonderful audience.”
The children stood and began gathering up their coats. Ross walked around the room, talking to each child once more.
Adrie motioned Regina over. “The little girl with the braids, what’s her name?”
“Amber.” Regina smiled. “Isn’t she a sweetheart?”
Adrie nodded. “Has she been in foster care long? What’s her story?”
“I’m sorry. I’m not allowed to share much information, but I can tell you this—she’s bright and gifted. But I’m afraid most of those gifts won’t be developed unless she finds a permanent family.”
Someone tapped Adrie on the back, and she turned around.
Amber smiled up at her. “I liked hearing you play the flute.”
“Thank you, Amber.” Adrie sat down so she could be on eye level with her young friend. “You seem to know a lot about music.”
She nodded, making the beads in her hair dance. “My daddy played the clarinet, and my mommy played the piano.”
Adrie’s throat tightened. What happened to her mother and father? She pushed that thought away. “A love for music runs in your family.”
“I took flute lessons at my last school.” Her smile dimmed. “But I had to move to a different family. They don’t have lessons at my new school.” She bit her lip and gazed at Adrie’s flute with longing in her eyes.
Adrie’s heart clenched. She’d started playing the flute when she was about the same age as Amber. What a shame that this little girl’s dream had already been dashed.
“Okay, everyone, time to go.” Regina pushed open the studio’s front door, then turned to Ross and Adrie. “Thanks again.” She lifted her hand and waved.
“Any time,” Ross called as the kids filed out. “Wow, if we could harness all their energy, we’d be able to power all the lights in Fairhaven.”
Regina smiled. “You’re right about that.”
“I got some really great photos. Wait until you see them.”
Adrie slipped the last piece of her flute in the case and looked up at him. “I knew you would.”
He tipped his head and studied her, a question in his eyes.
Her face flushed. She snapped the case closed and turned to grab her coat. “I better go.”
“Adrie, wait.”
She slowed and turned.
“I didn’t have time for lunch. Do you want to grab something to eat before we head back to the store?”
Bayside Books was open until nine. If she didn’t eat now, she might not have a chance. But she didn’t want to say yes and give him the wrong impression. But he wasn’t asking her out on a date. They were just two friends stopping for a bite to eat on their way back to work.
He grinned and lifted his eyebrows. “Mexican. My treat—as a thank-you for rescuing me.”
She smiled and nodded. “Sure. That sounds great.”
A knock sounded at Ross’s apartment door. He broke his gaze away from the photo program on his computer. It was almost seven, and he wasn’t expecting anyone this evening. He set his computer on the coffee table and answered the door.
Adrie stood in the hallway wearing a tentative smile and holding a large pizza pan.
The mouthwatering scent of melting cheese and spicy sauce drifted upward. “Wow, that looks delicious.”
She held the pan a little higher. “It just came out of the oven, and I don’t want to eat the whole thing myself. I thought you might help me.”
His eyes widened. “You made it yourself?”
She nodded, and her cheeks took on a soft pink tinge. “It’s an old family recipe. We had to make everything from scratch in Kenya, so that’s the way I like it.”
“Sounds great. Come on in.” He couldn’t hold back his grin as he led her over to the coffee table and pushed aside his computer. “You can put it right here. I’ll go get some plates. Be right back.” He headed for the kitchen, his steps light. He grabbed the plates, napkins and two cans of soda. With his hopes rising, he returned to the living room.
Adrie sat on the couch, her gaze focused on his computer screen. “Are those the Heart Gallery photos?”
“Yeah, I was just doing a little editing. You want to take a look?”
“Sure.”
He sat next to her and placed the computer on her lap. “Here you go.” He slipped his arm behind her on the couch and settled in next to her.
She slowly scrolled through the photos, commenting about the different children. When she opened the first shot of the little African-American girl with the beaded braids, she stopped and studied it more closely. “Look at her eyes. They’re so full of life.”
“Yes, she’s got something special.” He glanced at the pizza. “The smell is killing me. Mind if I go ahead?”
“Help yourself.”
He loaded a piece on his plate and took the first bite.
“Regina couldn’t tell me much about her, except her name is Amber, and she’s very gifted. I talked to her just before the kids left, and she said her parents were musicians.”
Ross nodded to let her know he was listening.
“She used to take flute lessons. But she had to move to a new foster home, and they don’t have lessons at her new school.”
“Too bad. It looks like she was really interested.”
Adrie opened the next photo. It showed her kneeling down to say goodbye to Amber. “I didn’t know you took this picture.”
“Yeah, you were pretty wrapped up in what you were doing.”
She grinned. “True.” Adrie set the computer aside and reached for a piece of pizza.
“You were great with the kids,” he said. “Maybe you could do something like that again.”
“You mean play for foster kids?”
He nodded. “Or visit schools, or give kids lessons.”
She glanced toward the window, a slight smile at the corners of her mouth. “Maybe I will—someday.”
After finishing off three large slices, Ross wiped his hands on a napkin. “That’s the best pizza I’ve ever had. You’re an amazing cook.”