Page 50 of Foster

“I want to know more about your music. When did you start and when did you know you had a passion for it?”

“Hmm. Let’s see.” I’m impressed by the thoughtfulness of his curiosity. I’ve never had anyone ask me when I knew that it would be a passion. “I started with piano lessons when I was seven. My parents insisted that each of us kids had to take lessons for a musical instrument of our choice for at least one year. I love playing the piano and I also picked up the guitar when I was about eight. And I guess I knew that I had a passion for it when I was spending nearly all my free time playing. Not just practicing, but playing so I could hear my own music I was creating. I dabbled with the violin but eventually let that go.”

“Did you ever take singing lessons? Because your voice is amazing. It’s like a strong hit of Adele with a tinge of Courtney Love.”

I grin at him, the talents of the two women paired together being quite the compliment. I’m also impressed he knows music to the extent that he would pick those two ladies to describe my voice.

“Never took voice lessons. Just have it naturally, I guess.”

“And you only play with Leo?”

I nod, a little surprised at his recall. “Yes, we’ve been playing together since middle school and formed a duo in high school. We play coffeehouses, bars, anywhere that’ll have us really. He’s like a brother to me.”

Foster raises an eyebrow, a half-smile playing on his lips. “A brother, huh? He seemed quite… affectionate.”

I can’t help but laugh at the hint of jealousy in his tone. “Leo’s just like that. But it’s purely platonic, I assure you.”

The sommelier reappears, carrying a bottle of wine. She uncorks it and pours a small amount in a wineglass for Foster to taste. I expect him to nod and accept it, but he hands his glass to me. “Here… make sure you like it.”

I’m not sure if that’s a breach of wine protocol or not, but I very much like the way he’s invited me to drink out of his glass and the fact my opinion matters to him. Incredibly thoughtful.

I sip, savoring the flavor and while I don’t have the most sophisticated palate, I know it tastes good. “I like it.”

The sommelier beams, pours glasses for each of us and leaves the bottle on the table before backing away.

Foster takes his glass in hand and holds it up. I mimic his action, and he says, “To our first date. I hope it ends well enough there will be a second.”

“Not a bad thing to toast to,” I say, and we tap our glasses. Our eyes lock over the rims as we take a sip.

“I don’t understand,” Foster says as we lower our drinks. “Why aren’t you singing professionally? I mean… you should have a recording contract, be playing sold-out concerts.”

I cock an eyebrow at him. “That’s a little overboard.”

“It’s not,” he insists.

Dropping my gaze to my glass, I smile at the earnestness in his voice. When I look back up, I tell him the simple truth. “Music is a passion but it’s not my biggest one. Taking care of kids is where it’s at for me.”

Foster tilts his head in curiosity. “How did that come to be?”

“Circumstance, mostly,” I reply with a laugh. “My family is big, blended and all over the place as far as age ranges.” I tell him about how my mom and stepdad met, how they waited eleven years before having their own kids. “So Landon and Mason are twelve and fourteen now. I was thirteen when Mason was born so I was almost as much a mom to them as our own mom was. I just took to it naturally… the mothering part. The mentoring part is important to me too, but I didn’t want to do something like teaching.”

“Why not?” he asks before taking another drink of his wine.

My grin is abashed. “First, I really had no interest in going to college. Just committing to another four years of learning seemed… daunting. Mostly though, I wanted to be more hands-on with kids. I wanted to be a bigger influence than having an hour a day with a large group of kids versus more one-on-one. I wanted to be able to take care of and influence a young child’s life for the better, especially when they have to contend with the schedules of their working parents. I knew those challenges firsthand as both my parents were career-oriented and worked demanding jobs. Nannying was the way for me to do that.”

Foster leans back, drums his fingers on the table. “That’s impressive. Any regrets on the path you chose?”

“Not in choosing childcare over music, because I still get my music fix while doing what I love best. But a little regret on not going to college. Now that I’m older, I wish I’d tried it.”

Foster shakes his head. “I don’t believe college is for everyone. I don’t think you needed it for what you do, but if it’s that important to you, it’s never too late to take a shot at it.”

“Not sure it’s that important,” I grudgingly admit. “But maybe one day.”

He nods as if he understands that it’s an unrealized dream but one I’d be okay just keeping as a dream. “Tell me more about your family. What are they like? It’s clear you’re close to them.”

“Very close and it’s possible I could talk the rest of dinner about them.”

Spreading his arms wide, he says, “We have nothing but time tonight, so talk away.”

---