Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Something in me deflated, and it was because of my brother. This wasn’t him. He thought I had a bleeding heart? Forget about it. The whole reason he’d started his academy was to help and inspire children through music, and he had a soft spot for those who found peace in whatever music had to offer.
He’d gone above and beyond to help out his entire life. He’d picked up the pieces of Pop after our mother died of cancer. I’d been too young to remember, but Anthony had tackled Pop, his own grief, and school at the same time. He’d fought for the underdog, the bullied kids, the outcasts. For crying out loud, he was a Mets fan.
Fuck both him and Gideon. I was gonna help them whether they wanted me to or not.
Sorry sacks of shit.
I lowered my gaze to my phone and typed out a response.
I can be available on Mondays and/or Sundays too, but if you choose Sunday, I’d prefer to meet up at eleven instead of ten.
Sunday dinner at Nonna’s was usually over around eight, but she was incapable of saying goodbye, so we tended to stand in the hallway for half an eternity while she came up with just one more thing to say or do before we left. It always involved handing over leftovers and telling us who in the neighborhood was pregnant or getting divorced.
Gideon replied quickly.
What about tonight? I’d like to see you tonight.
The man didn’t wanna come off as inexperienced, but he had no issues showing vulnerability or being honest with how eager he was.
I can’t tonight. My brother and I are rehearsing some songs with the choir at our local church in Brooklyn.
I threw a couple fries into my mouth as Gideon wrote his response.
My eyebrows flew up when I read it.
I saw the note on your fridge and let it slide because it’s your home for the moment. Same with the drumsticks I saw by the door and your keyboard by the window. But try not to share any information about yourself. I want this arrangement to be as impersonal as possible. I’ll take both Mondays and Sundays, thank you. 11 p.m. for Sunday sounds good. I will handle the compensation through Tina.
Oh, fuck you, dude.
Sorry if my personal life got in the way of your—
My thoughts were derailed when another of his texts popped up.
And please don’t leave any more notes on the table. If I sneak out while you’re asleep, it’s for a reason. You don’t have to tell me goodbye or anything. I will see you tomorrow, then.
Now he was pissing me off. I’d left a single note with my phone number on it, and I’d written, “In case you’re gone before I wake up, my number if you need it.” Since I didn’t bring the iPad out with me.
Maybe I shouldn’t get involved. He seemed to have made up his mind about everything.
Chapter 4
It felt good to be back in the church I’d spent so many boring hours in growing up. It wasn’t every day we got to practice with the choir; I think last time was before summer. Now, Halloween and Thanksgiving were right around the corner, and the choir had some fun events to rehearse for. Anthony and I would be part of one of them.
Back in the day, it’d been mostly older people in the choir—and by older, I meant Anthony’s age—but now several of them were even younger than me.
It was a representative mix consisting of twenty men and women of the Catholic population of Williamsburg, and I’d gone to school with many of them. Anthony could say the same for the older folk.
As much as I loved Manhattan, this was where I belonged. It was home. With all its flaws.
“Nicky, can you take the piano for warm-up?” Anthony asked. “We have Nina, Henri, and Luiz on bass, guitar, and drums. I’ll take the organ.”
“Sounds good.” I left my guitar with him at the first pew and headed up toward the piano. “Maria!”
She was a friend of ours; she lived in the same building as Nonna, and I could always borrow the sheet music from her.
“What’s this I hear about you leaving Brooklyn, papi?”
“It’s just temporary.” I smiled, sitting down at the piano. A handful of people had arrived and taken their seats along the pews. “What’re youse working on these days?”
She smirked knowingly and handed over a binder. “It’s all in here.”
“Cheers, hon.” I found a good one to begin with, X Ambassadors’ gospel song “Belong,” and the choir fell quiet as I played the first few notes.
Anthony took his seat at the organ across the aisle and nodded to me, so I started over and signaled to Nina, Henri, and Luiz.
One of Anthony’s buddies, Matthew, stepped forward to the mic that was set up for whoever was doing a solo.