At All by Mindy McKinley

Author:Mindy McKinley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Chicago, saxophone player, addict, alcoholic, treatment, daddy issues, music teacher
Publisher: Inkspell Publishing
Published: 2020-11-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Maelie

The next morning was one of the best Maelie could remember. She woke up grinning with the memory of Seb’s kisses and late-night text messages rolling through her mind in perpetual succession. She had texted him as he asked and they chatted like teenagers on the phone until almost two in the morning.

They hadn’t discussed anything of importance, but it didn’t seem to matter. He was texting her, and that was enough to make her feel like she was flying.

“You’re in a good mood,” Jessie pointed out from the kitchen counter where she was making her strange-smelling herbal tea she swore made her bowels the “picture of health.”

“I am.” She swung into the kitchen with her ancient purple robe tied loosely around her waist. Honestly, she felt like Ginger Rodgers entering the dance floor, so she spun around to prove it.

“Wow, a really good mood.” Jessie put her teacup up to her mouth to blow on it. “Are you going to tell me why?”

Mae grinned and grabbed the coffee pot to fill it with water. “Mr. Adams, of course.”

Jessie’s eyebrow arched. “Really? What happened?”

Mae shrugged as the water filled the pot. “Oh, nothing, really, a couple of kisses and a lot of silly texts.”

Jessie took a sip. “That’s not nothing. I told you he was into you.”

She couldn’t help but smile as she poured the water into the coffee maker. “Maybe,” she answered happily—deep down, she was too afraid to fully accept it.

Jessie continued to ask her questions as she finished making coffee and toast and they sat down at the kitchen table together.

“Are you going to see him again?” Jessie asked before explaining, “I mean, outside of work?”

Maelie’s stomach curled at the thought of having her second lesson at his place and what other types of lessons he might teach her. A fleeting image of him taking her from behind nearly made her spill her coffee. “Um, yeah, I think so.” She attempted to recover but her voice was thin. “He mentioned doing our second jazz lesson at his place.”

Jessie laughed. “His place, huh? Seems very convenient.”

“She pointed at her friend with her toast. “That’s what I said. But he assures me he is the only one that has the appropriate sound equipment for the job.”

“I don’t think he’s talking about sound equipment,” Jessie muttered, making Maelie laugh.

“Oh, by the way ...” Jessie’s train of thought changed. She grabbed a piece of mail from the pile on the table. “This came for you yesterday. Are you trying out for the New York Philharmonic?”

“No.” Mae reached for the letter, her mood dropping like a stone. “My father wants me to, but I told him no.” But sure enough, the NY Phil logo was emblazoned on the envelope’s return address. Her stomach sank as she tore it open.

“Mother fucker,” she breathed as she read the paragraph about how excited they were to hear her audition in April. “Goddammit, Dad.” She crumpled the paper and threw it across the kitchen. She looked up at Jessie who was staring at her with wide eyes.

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