Staccato (Magnum Opus #2) - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,15
great at keeping his curiosity to himself, and he knew the words were coming, whether he wanted them to or not. “Do you know what happened? I mean, why he’s…you know?” He gestured at his eyes and felt like an asshole for not being able to say the word blind.
“Cancer,” Vincent said, and he rolled his head to the side to look at Adam. “His brother had it too. Genetic thing, I guess.”
“Oh shit, they’re both blind?” Adam’s eyes went wide.
Vincent shook his head though. “Van—that’s his older brother. He said they caught it early in him. Fucked his right eye to hell, but he can see some out of it. They found it too late with Nik, I guess. Missed it for too long and it spread, so they had to—” Vincent made a grotesque popping noise, and Adam winced.
“Jesus, dude.”
Vincent’s grin was vaguely apologetic. “Don’t mean to be rude.”
“It’s not me you should apologize to,” Adam pointed out. He didn’t know what disability felt like, but he knew what it felt like to have people talk about intimate, private things and that made it even worse. He should have just asked Nik. “Anyway, I mean, I know he’s good on piano. He plays here all the time.”
“It’s different on the stage. He teaches at the elementary school for most of the week, but Mitchell over there was passing out flyers to the spring concert with his private students. You should go. He’s worth hearing.” Vincent turned himself to face the shop doors again, and Adam saw the way his eyes were staring too close. He sat back and looked over to see Evie dozing on her a bit too, and he felt fatigue settle in his own bones.
He wasn’t tired, he was just floating. He was numb, sensory deprived in a void with no hope of clawing his way out. When Stella was done with him, when he was no longer needed, he’d be set loose. He just didn’t know where the fuck he’d go after.
Luckily, Adam didn’t have the energy to let himself spiral right then. He leaned back in his chair and pulled out his phone to check the time. The appointment books were empty, Vincent had one tattoo just before close at eight, and there was nothing here for him.
“Hey, man,” Adam said, startling Vincent awake.
The old man turned to look at him, then he laughed. “Go on, get the hell out of here. Go feed that kid a vegetable for chrissakes, and pack a better snack bag next time she’s here.”
Adam huffed a laugh as he pushed to his feet. “I promise it won’t be all the time.”
“As often as you need,” Vincent told him. “My dad was a lifer—Army. Eventually settled in DC, died in his office. I know what it’s like to worry—to sit there and think every time there was a goddamn knock on the door, it was gonna be some man in dress blues holding a box with the pieces that were left. We got this. You know?” He knocked two knuckles on the side of the desk. “Family.”
Adam swallowed thickly and wasn’t quite sure what to do with that, so he just nodded, then crossed the room to gather the sleeping four-year-old into his arms and use his leg to scoop up her bag. Chances were, they’d be back sooner rather than later, so he left half her stuff on the table, knowing Vincent would take care of it.
It was all a lot, but with Evie in his arms and the promise of getting his sister dinner after her long lectures, at least he felt wanted.
Chapter 6
Mezzo
Even the school concerts took a lot out of Nik. Not navigating the children, but the blossoming stage parents who wanted perfection in ways that didn’t exist. They wanted prodigies, not hobbyists who would rather be playing Xbox in the dressing room. They wanted miracles, not mediocrity, and didn’t like when Nik told them the only way to get better was by being bad first.
And granted, it wasn’t an easy thing to sit through. He didn’t need sight to know that half the crowd was cringing in their seats as the first years screeched their bows like a bunch of dying cats to the tune of Mary Had a Little Lamb—but they had to start somewhere. And in his years of teaching orchestra, no one had ever strolled into class, picked up an instrument, and sounded like the Heavenly Host singing.