Page 83 of Symphony of Salvation

“I was told the doctor would make the final decision.”

“Looks like March first is the anticipated date unless things don’t go as planned.”

I thanked Ruth and wandered back to the common room. Chloé and Constance were seated near a window, involved in an infuriating ASL conversation—both of them—even though Constance’s hearing was perfectly fine. Acts like this convinced me that Chloé was not on my side. She coddled our daughter rather than promoting healthier habits.

It reminded me of the book Niles had gifted, the stained morning, and the euphoria of the previous night. How easily I’d caved to my suppressed desires. How incredible and freeing it had felt.

I’d asked Niles to give me time, but time for what?

The visit ended, and Constance and Chloé approached arm in arm. Other families, in the midst of saying goodbye, hugged loved ones and wished them well.

“Hello, Augustus.” Chloé’s emerald eyes were clear and bright, a marked difference from the last time I’d seen her. Our daughter shared more of Chloé’s genes than mine. Side by side, as Constance moved into womanhood, their similarities were startling. How deep did they go? How much of her mother had she inherited? It was why I refused to push Constance into alife of competition. The pressure and stress were part of her mother’s downfall.

“Merry Christmas, Chloé.”

“You didn’t visit.”

“We have nothing to talk about. I’m here for Constantina.”

She turned to our daughter, rubbing her arms. “Take care.” Chloé kissed Constance’s cheek and drew her into an embrace. As they rocked side to side, hugging, she said, “I’d like to chat with your father for a moment in private.”

Released from her mother’s arms, Constance glanced at me and nodded. I handed her the keys to the car. “Turn the heat on so you don’t freeze to death. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Once she was gone, Chloé sighed and crossed her arms over her thin chest. She’d always been petite, as angelic in appearance as her voice when she sang, but the beauty who had captivated me fifteen years ago was not this woman.

“How is she adjusting to school?”

“No issues.”

“That’s all? No issues? You can’t elaborate? Give me something, Augustus. Don’t be stubborn.”

I shrugged. “It’s been less than a month. What do you want?”

“She tells me Jonas isn’t coming for lessons.”

“No. She has a music teacher, and whatever he can’t teach her, I will.”

“I don’t agree with this.”

I stared, perplexed.

She met the challenge.

“Do I need to say it?” I asked.

“No. I gave up the right to opinions. Yes, I realize that. What about when you leave her and go back to Chicago? That is your plan, isn’t it? Timber Creek is a boarding school. You chose it for that reason.”

“I’ll make decisions when the time comes.”

“Call Jonas. Please. He’s what she needs.”

What Constance needed was a goddamned therapist to help her process all the changes in her life so she could come to terms with what had happened.

“Was there anything else?”

Chloé pressed her lips together and scanned the fast-emptying room. “What about you? Are you managing?”

“As well as can be expected.”

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