here in the city?”
“I’ve been stopping by after Belinda’s every afternoon, just to see if they need me.”
“ And you play the piano at the atrium in the shopping district at night?”
“Only twice a week there, but I also play at the Tremont Plaza Hotel two to three nights per week.”
“Holy cow! Am I missing anything?”
“Yeah, sometimes, if I have time on my mornings off, I go to the senior center where my mother works and I give piano lessons to the residents. But I don’t earn any money doing that. It’s pro bono,” he said smiling.
“You are a force of nature , Thomas Pritchett,” she said, finishing off a chocolate scone.
“ Maybe, but I’m not out in the world saving people like you are.”
“I’m not really o ut there saving people either. I fill out a lot of paperwork every day,” she laughed.
“Well, paperwork or no, the city is safer with you in it.”
“Thanks.”
She paused to take a strawberry from the bowl of fruit and met his gaze. Since the day before when he had confided in her about being raised in the foster care system, she had spent a considerable amount of time thinking about how difficult his formative years must have been. She couldn’t figure out how he had managed to survive such a horrible childhood without more psychological scarring. It appeared however, as she looked at the handsome man before her, that perhaps he had been able to after all.
“So, tell me about the piano thing.”
“What about it?” he asked.
“Why aren’t you studying at Peabody or something?”
“I’ve never applied. ”
“Why not?”
“Because the application fee is $115.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, ouch. But that’s only a part of the problem. When my dad was still alive, my mom and dad tried to convince me to apply, but I didn’t want to waste the money. And I’m glad I didn’t, because since he died, my mother and I can barely afford the mortgage, much less a tuition payment.”
“How much is tuition?” she asked.
“Almost $40,000 a year.”
“Double ouch.”
“Yeah. So , that’s why I’m not studying at Peabody.”
“What about scholarships?”
“What happens if I waste the money to apply and then don’t get one?”
“What happens if you do get one?” she responded.
“Touché ,” he said. “Really, it’s fine. Maybe someday I’ll be able to pursue my dreams, but for now, I’m happy right where I am. I like doing what I do, even if I’m just scraping by.” He paused, giving her a sideways grin. “Should I be telling you that? That I’m only just scraping by?”
She laughed, “No, probably not! But at least I know what I’m getting myself into!”
He was suddenly serious. “Are you getting yourself into something?”
“Uh, maybe. This is something, isn’t it? Lunch, two days in a row?”
“Yes. I mean, I thought it was something. But I didn’t know whether you thought it was something. I was hoping it was something, but then again, I’m always sort of cautiously optimistic.”
“I’ll make a note,” she said, using her fingers to write on an imaginary tablet. “Scraping by. Cautiously optimistic. Anything else I should know?”
“I think you are beautiful,” he replied.
“Thinks I’m beaut…” she began, before cutting herself off midsentence. At that moment, something strange caught her eye from across the park, just beyond a small grove of trees. “Thomas, stay right here. Don’t move. Promise me.”
In an instant, she was on her feet, her hand on her firearm, sprinting across the park. As she ran, she watched as a man dressed in filthy fatigues approached an older couple who were walking toward him from the opposite direction. The darkness surrounding the man was unmistakable and she knew he was only seconds away from causing harm to one or both of the pedestrians. She hesitated to call out to him for fear he would take off and yet she knew
“I’ve been stopping by after Belinda’s every afternoon, just to see if they need me.”
“ And you play the piano at the atrium in the shopping district at night?”
“Only twice a week there, but I also play at the Tremont Plaza Hotel two to three nights per week.”
“Holy cow! Am I missing anything?”
“Yeah, sometimes, if I have time on my mornings off, I go to the senior center where my mother works and I give piano lessons to the residents. But I don’t earn any money doing that. It’s pro bono,” he said smiling.
“You are a force of nature , Thomas Pritchett,” she said, finishing off a chocolate scone.
“ Maybe, but I’m not out in the world saving people like you are.”
“I’m not really o ut there saving people either. I fill out a lot of paperwork every day,” she laughed.
“Well, paperwork or no, the city is safer with you in it.”
“Thanks.”
She paused to take a strawberry from the bowl of fruit and met his gaze. Since the day before when he had confided in her about being raised in the foster care system, she had spent a considerable amount of time thinking about how difficult his formative years must have been. She couldn’t figure out how he had managed to survive such a horrible childhood without more psychological scarring. It appeared however, as she looked at the handsome man before her, that perhaps he had been able to after all.
“So, tell me about the piano thing.”
“What about it?” he asked.
“Why aren’t you studying at Peabody or something?”
“I’ve never applied. ”
“Why not?”
“Because the application fee is $115.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, ouch. But that’s only a part of the problem. When my dad was still alive, my mom and dad tried to convince me to apply, but I didn’t want to waste the money. And I’m glad I didn’t, because since he died, my mother and I can barely afford the mortgage, much less a tuition payment.”
“How much is tuition?” she asked.
“Almost $40,000 a year.”
“Double ouch.”
“Yeah. So , that’s why I’m not studying at Peabody.”
“What about scholarships?”
“What happens if I waste the money to apply and then don’t get one?”
“What happens if you do get one?” she responded.
“Touché ,” he said. “Really, it’s fine. Maybe someday I’ll be able to pursue my dreams, but for now, I’m happy right where I am. I like doing what I do, even if I’m just scraping by.” He paused, giving her a sideways grin. “Should I be telling you that? That I’m only just scraping by?”
She laughed, “No, probably not! But at least I know what I’m getting myself into!”
He was suddenly serious. “Are you getting yourself into something?”
“Uh, maybe. This is something, isn’t it? Lunch, two days in a row?”
“Yes. I mean, I thought it was something. But I didn’t know whether you thought it was something. I was hoping it was something, but then again, I’m always sort of cautiously optimistic.”
“I’ll make a note,” she said, using her fingers to write on an imaginary tablet. “Scraping by. Cautiously optimistic. Anything else I should know?”
“I think you are beautiful,” he replied.
“Thinks I’m beaut…” she began, before cutting herself off midsentence. At that moment, something strange caught her eye from across the park, just beyond a small grove of trees. “Thomas, stay right here. Don’t move. Promise me.”
In an instant, she was on her feet, her hand on her firearm, sprinting across the park. As she ran, she watched as a man dressed in filthy fatigues approached an older couple who were walking toward him from the opposite direction. The darkness surrounding the man was unmistakable and she knew he was only seconds away from causing harm to one or both of the pedestrians. She hesitated to call out to him for fear he would take off and yet she knew
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