Page 8 of Echoes of a Silent Song
“Not now.”His blasé, dismissive tone made her even madder.
“Yes.Now.”Each word was a dagger.“Or you’ll find yourself in need of a new accompanist.And I’m told those are hard to find.”
That got his attention.He glanced up from his iPad and lowered his baton.“You wouldn’t dare.”
Of course she wouldn’t.Especially not if it meant leaving these kids with him.But were she a betting woman, she’d place a large wager on him not knowing this about her.
“How confident are you in that assessment?”She locked her gaze on his and refused to blink.
He stared at her, jaw rock hard, stormy emerald eyes narrowed into slits.Finally he set his baton down on the stand, the click of wood against metal the only sound in the tension-thickened choir room.
“Fine.”He stalked toward the office.
“Hold down the fort, Thalia,” Blair called as she followed Callum inside.
“Will do, Ms.Em.”
Callum stood aside to let Blair pass, then shut the door, folded his arms across his chest, and faced her, brows arched.“What on God’s green earth is so important that you were compelled to interrupt my rehearsal?”
“It’s notyourrehearsal.It’stheirrehearsal.Ourrehearsal.”Pulse pounding in her throat, she gestured toward the choir room.“They arechildren, Callum.I know you’ve been conducting professionals for years, but you need to take a step back and understand that these are young people, impressionable people, who are enrolled in your class because they want to be.Because they want to learn to sing.”
Callum’s lips tightened, the skin around them whitening.
“Makayla Barnes is the one person you should never, ever say ‘notgood enough’ to.She seems tough, but inside she’s a fragile young girl with a backstory that’d break your heart, and if you talk to her that way, you’ll lose her.And that would be devastating, because if you heard that girl sing ...”
“I have heard her sing.Just now.”
“I meanreallysing.If you’d heard her rendition of ‘Quella fiamma’ at contest last year, you’d—”
“If she’s already sung ‘Quella fiamma,’ then she needs to be challenged.Theyallneed to be challenged.”Callum stepped toward her, close enough she could feel the warmth from his body.“I don’t know what kind of kindergarten coddling you all have been doing around here, but this choir is capable of greatness.The talent is there.You know it and I know it.They just need someone to harness it.Channel it.Bring it out from where it’s hiding to where the whole world can see.”
Blair pulled back, the searing heat of anger cooled slightly by his words.Normally, she’d have a bone to pick with his description of her career as kindergarten coddling ...but even in a frustrating, ten-minute train wreck of a rehearsal, Callum Knight had seen the talent that lay in their top choir, and something had motivated him to try to bring it out of them.Gone was the burned-out shell of a man she’d met on Monday.In his place stood someone who might have what it took to bring the Peterson High choirs out of the ashes.
“What?”Callum’s voice was quieter now, hawkish eyes roving over her face in a thorough, but not unkind, evaluation.
She straightened.“If I didn’t know better, Callum Knight, I’d think you might care about this job after all.”
Callum dragged a hand through his hair.“Blair, when I was eleven years old, I thought I signed up for robotics as my sixth-grade elective, but a computer error put me in choir instead.And ever since then, choral music has been mylife.Singing it, conducting it, creating it myself, coaxing it to life, watching people connect with it, with each other ...making music is what makes me come alive.Sometimes in those magical moments when everything goes well, it just ...”
“ ...seems almost like a glimpse of heaven.”Goodness.Two minutes ago she’d wanted to fling her cup of coffee right in his face, but nowsomething hovered between them.A commonality.A connection.One she hadn’t had with any of the other choral directors who’d occupied this office.Who’d taken charge of this classroom.
Callum seemed to feel it too, because those narrow slits of eyes had widened.Dark lashes blinked, and tightly folded arms gradually relaxed.One hand slid into his pocket, and the other found that wild mop of hair again.
Perhaps they could salvage the year after all.
“Look, Blair.”His voice was considerably softer.A bit rough around the edges.“I’ll be honest with you.This isn’t where I saw myself at this point in my career.And those kids might be right.I might not even last the year.But as long as I am here, as long as my job is to teach them, then I’m going to demand their absolute best.”
“Then may I give you a bit of advice from the perspective of someone who grew up in this community and who’s worked with these kids for almost a decade?”
He nodded.“You may.”
“If you want their best, you have to give them yours.And that starts with letting them see what you’ve just let me see.Let them see you care.”She flipped a lock of hair over her shoulder.“We’ve had six directors in six years.Let that sink in.Nobody in this room has had the same teacher two years in a row.Every August there’s a new face in front of them.New expectations.New ways of doing things.And just when they think they’ve got it figured out, just when they start to like that person, they get the rug yanked out from under them and have to start all over again.Frankly, it’s a wonder any of them are still enrolled in choir.But the fact that they are means that getting to sing—to make music with each other—is worth putting up with all the other crap they’ve been through.These kids adore one another, Callum.And for a lot of them, this is the only place they feel safe.Don’t take that away from them by yelling and screaming on the first day.”
He was silent again, that impossible-to-read expression flitting over his face.Had she angered him again?Gotten through to him?She couldn’t wait for the day when she’d understand this expression, because guessing games were the worst.
“I think perhaps I’ve underestimated you.And been a bit rotten to you.”He flashed a slight smile.“Forgive me?Please?”
“Of course,” she replied.“Thank you.”
