She starts packing her guitar, moving carefully. The way she wraps the cord, wipes down the strings, positions it in the case—all of it speaks to someone who’s been taught to respect the instrument.
“Thanks for teaching me,” she says, closing the case latches.
“You’re welcome.”
“Will you be here next week if Benny’s still gone?”
I look at Rye. She’s watching me, weighing something behind her eyes.
“We’ll see,” I say.
Lily nods and heads for the door. “Coming, Mom?”
“One second. Wait in the car.”
Lily glances between us, and for a moment I think she’s going to ask questions. But she just shrugs and leaves.
Once she’s outside, Rye approaches me. “I didn’t know you were teaching.”
“I’m not. Benny asked me to cover. His sister’s in the hospital. I had no idea the lesson was for your daughter.”
“And I had no idea you’d be here.” She pauses, choosing words carefully. “You were good with her.”
“She makes it easy. She’s talented.”
“I know.” Rye glances toward the car where Lily waits. “She doesn’t know about us.”
“I figured that out.”
“I need to keep it that way.”
“Understood.”
She looks surprised by my easy acceptance. “Just like that?”
“She’s your daughter. Your rules.”
“Thank you.” She moves toward the door, then stops. “She wasn’t wrong, you know. You are better than Benny, but if you tell him I said that, I’ll deny it.”
“Benny’s a fine teacher. I just approach things differently.”
“No, it’s more than that. You taught her things Benny probably wouldn’t have gotten to for months. Harmonics, hammer-ons, all of it. You compressed weeks of lessons into one hour.”
“She was ready for it. Sometimes students just need someone to show them they’re capable of more than they think.”
“Maybe.” She studies my face. “She’s all I’ve got, Darian.”
“I understand.”
“I need to think about this. About what it means.”
“Take all the time you need.”
She turns to go, then looks back. “What Benny said, about his sister. Is she okay?”
“I think so. He didn’t seem panicked, just needed to be there.”
“Good. He’s a good man.”
