Scars Like Ours | Red View Romance #2

Epilogue

"Mr. McAden?" Shawn, the rosy-cheeked eight year old that was placing his sheet music into a crisp blue folder said the name that Cliff still wasn't used to responding to. In all his years of being a jingle writer, he'd gone by a different name, never wanting to risk anyone finding out about his real career.

Now that he was a tutor--and working hard on his bachelor's degree so he could start teaching at the school with Kenzie--he was sure he'd get used to it soon enough.

"Yeah?" Cliff unlatched his briefcase, opening it before giving the kid, who was now walking up to his desk, his full attention.

The studio space was small, but perfect--Marshall knew what he was doing, Cliff thought. And after spending a week with the man touring the few available properties in town, he finally knew what everyone else already did: Marshall was the perfect match for his sister.

The space had originally been a studio apartment above what used to be an antique store, but had been converted into a carryout pizzeria just the year before. The old tenants had moved out after selling their store, and the apartment, old but with good bones--and now the occasional scent of pizza dough and tomato sauce--had been empty since.

Now, the wide open space held nothing more than a piano by the large windows, a basic desk and chair at the front of the room, and a side table with a matching bench by the door where kids could sit while waiting to be picked up. There was one bathroom, an awkwardly large space housing only a toilet and a sink, since Cliff sold off the old clawfoot tub he'd had no use for. He was using the old bedroom as an office to keep track of expenses and incoming payments.

The kitchen brought some confused looks from students and parents alike, but Cliff decided he liked having it. It was nice to have food on hand in case he didn't have time to pack lunch that morning--and he realized pretty quickly that offering a kid something to eat on the way out the door warmed them up pretty fast. Even the young girl who'd had her first class that weekend and hadn't spoken to him, only eyed his scars with wide eyes, had smiled when he'd let her take a clementine from the bowl by the door on her way out.

Shawn had been coming for a few weeks now, every Tuesday and Friday. He was the kind of kid who didn't need the bribery of food to help overcome the barrier of shyness--Cliff wasn't sure the boy had ever experienced shyness in his life. And he thought Cliff's scars were cool instead of scary or weird--so far, the majority of his students actually seemed to feel the same. It was a surprise, but a welcome one.

"What's wrong with you today?" Shawn asked the question as simply as if he was inquiring about the weather.

Cliff couldn't hold back a laugh, and not only at the bluntness. Was it that obvious? Since he'd gotten the phone call that morning and had gone to the mall to pick up his order, he wasn't able to focus on anything. His mind was in a constant whirl, thinking only of what he planned to do that evening. Everything was going according to plan, and yet his whole body was still buzzing with nerves.

"I'm just wondering, because you took out the wrong sheet music, and you never do that. And you didn't even say anything when I played that wrong note in Chopsticks. I don't even think you noticed it. Did you?"

He hadn't. He glanced inside the briefcase at the little box that was occupying so many of his thoughts. "Sorry, Shawn. You're right, I didn't notice. I'm a little distracted today." A little was a monumental understatement.

"Why?"

"Well, I've got big plans later."

"Like what?"

Cliff laughed again, constantly endeared by the blatant curiosity of the younger students. It was one of the reasons he decided he wanted to work at the elementary school once he finally got his degree. The teenagers were nice, and sometimes easier to work with, but the children were amusing and completely honest.