Page 126 of Symphony of Salvation

My heart about melted, but I bit my lip, waiting to hear how August would take the news.

“Of course it’s okay. You can be whatever you want to be. I’ll support you regardless, and a teacher is an amazing career choice.”

“Mom will be mad.”

“Mom doesn’t get a say in your future. Only you get a say.”

August noticed me in the doorway, and we shared a smile. “Did you hear that? My daughter is going to be a music teacher someday.”

“I heard.” Constance and I shared a smile. “It’s a rewarding profession, and she’ll excel at it.”

August’s features softened. Maybe he read the hesitation in my body language. “I’m back for good, Niles.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. I’ll be staying at the cottage for now, but I’m house hunting in Peterborough. I sold my condo in Chicago.”

“What about the symphony?” Constance asked.

“I quit.”

Her eyes grew as wide and round as my own.

“You quit?” I stepped into the room and joined them. “What will you do for work? You said—”

“I know. It’s part of the reason I had to leave for a while. I had to… organize an alternative. For now, I won’t work at all, at least for anyone else.” He looked at Constance. “I’m going to take care of my daughter and focus on some unfinished projects. I’ve put a bug in the ear of the music director here in Toronto. I have solid references, so we’ll see what happens. In the meantime, I’ve… been assured a stable income.”

“How? You’re being elusive again.”

A mischievous look came into August’s eyes. “On purpose. Don’t make plans for Saturday evening. The three of us are going to Toronto.”

“For what?” I asked, brow furrowing.

“You’ll see. It’s a surprise. I’ve pulled some strings, and… I can’t say more. I do hope you’ll join me.”

Constance and I shared a puzzled look. Mutually agreeing, Constance said, “We’ll be there.”

***

“We have a lot to discuss,” I said when we were alone later that evening.

We had gone to dinner as a family, and after, August escorted Constance to her dorm room. I hung back, allowing father and daughter a moment to find their feet. His time away had nearly erased the teenage animosity, but I wasn’t foolish enough to think it gone.

Constance clung to her father, checking in regularly as though fearing he might vanish at any moment. Although she was too self-conscious to use her voice at the restaurant, she signed slowly enough to ensure August understood her words. The commendable effort didn’t go unnoticed. Constance glowed with pride and grew misty-eyed when her father understoodher silent language. August, in turn, got emotional every time Constance spoke.

Returning to the cottage that evening proved difficult. Without Constance as a buffer, the painful weeks of August’s absence surfaced. He must have sensed it too. Pacing, August made a mess of his tie, constantly moving the knot askew and wedging a finger under the collar until it hung loose and off-center. Eventually depositing himself at the piano, he lifted the fallboard and ran a finger over the ivories.

I remained in the doorway, analyzing the situation, afraid to hope.

“How much damage has my absence caused?” August stared at his hands, emitting waves of discontent.

I considered, glancing distractedly about the room as though the answer might pop out from behind the couch or fall from a high shelf. The stagnant interior of the cottage spoke of dormancy, but memories of our winter together hung like ghostly impressions everywhere I looked.

“Nothing that can’t be fixed.”

August turned to face me. “I’ve made mistakes, Niles. With you. With Constance. I had a lot of time to reflect on those errors.”

“And what did you discover?”

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