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The One I Love by Mia Ford, Bella Winters (10)

Chapter Ten

Charlie

I feel like a dick just leaving Ada at her front door last night. The truth is I don’t trust myself not to try anything with her again. Even though she said she’s not a virgin, my good girl senses are tingling. All morning I managed to have a lazy Tuesday. The guy I do work for has been on vacation, so I’ve not had to come in and work for two weeks. I know I should get productive and try to think about writing a song with more meaning, something so spectacular there is no way Ada can say no to being my partner.

I sit to see if anything comes to mind. I look down after a few minutes and see I’ve written her name and the line she is so much more than her sixteen-year-old self. Is that even a line? Clearly, I need to get my head screwed on straight.

I call my dad. He answers on the third ring, like always.

“Never let anyone think you’re waiting for them to call and be eager to answer the phone. You want it to seem like you had to stop doing something important to answer.” Those were his words of wisdom when teaching me the business, as he liked to call it.

“Charles W. Maxwell, how can I help you?”

“Dad it’s me, you know it’s me.”

“I didn’t know it was you, Charlie. I don’t look at the caller id thing, I’m too busy.”

Glad he can’t see me, I roll my eyes.

“What did you do to the guys at the factory?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about son. Yes, you can put that over there, thanks.”

My father is always doing twenty things at once.

“I had a group of guys basically attack me at the bar. They said you laid them off for no reason and they were going to make an example of me.”

“Ha, let them try. You know this is all about that ringleader they got. The men I fired they have someone who calls the shots, Henry Springfield. He’s just a troublemaker. It will all die down when he loses his steam.”

“What, that can’t be true.” I thought Ada’s dad had quit the factory a long time before. I remembered a conversation we’d had when we saw each other briefly in high school. Somehow seeing her again had brought everything back.

“Yeah, he’s been working for me for years and now all of a sudden I’m the bad guy.”

“Why’d you get rid of the factory workers dad?”

He doesn’t answer me right away which means it’s going to be bad news.

“That department was unneeded, son. Sometimes you have to let people go. It’s just the way it is. If I’m hemorrhaging money with an unneeded department then downsizing is necessary. Listen, I have to go but I’ll call you later.”

He hangs up without waiting for me to respond. Typical dad, always in a hurry. I know that he isn’t giving me the full story. The only thing I can do is go talk to the people that work for my dad. And I know exactly who I’m going to talk to first.

There’s a security guard outside the building named Paulie. He’s a big, wonderful man who gave me popsicles out of his little fridge in the security shack every time I came to see my dad when mom was still around. He will tell me whatever I need to know and I have a bit of time before practice with the kids so no time like the present.

I go into my kitchen not expecting much to be there for lunch and piece together a sandwich with one piece of ham, some turkey, and pickles I find in the refrigerator. For someone with a lot of money, I don’t shop enough. I also live alone, it doesn’t help me keep food in the house because I’m the only one ever eating.

Once I finish my food I decide to drive for a change. Lately, I’ve taken the easy way out and called Uber no matter where I needed to go. I climb into my jeep and tune the satellite radio to something I’ve not heard in a while and hope it will get my creativity going. I need to dig deeper to write my lyrics according to Ada so I’m going to try.

I drive the short distance to my dad’s building and park in the lower deck so I can walk straight across to where the security building is.

“Paulie, my main man,” I walk up to my father’s building knowing he’ll never know I was there. The most self-absorbed person in the world has people to look at the cameras and watch his parking lot for him. He’d never suspect his son was coming in looking for entail.

The office is the hub for the shipping company. My dad sells space for a living, space inside shipping containers. The factory makes the containers.

“What do you want Charlie?”

Paulie looks up at me from the chair he’s started sitting in. I think he’s probably nearing retirement age. He’s been the security guard at my dad’s company for as long as I can remember.

“I want popsicles, Paulie, what else?”

I see he has pictures of his grandkids in the windows of the little shack. He stands from the chair with a grunt and walks inside producing a choice. He holds out a red and green Popsicle and I grab the red one eagerly. No matter how old I get, there’s nothing like a Popsicle of a hot spring afternoon.

He takes the green one and sits back down in his chair. He’s still eying me with one brow raised as he takes a bite.

“I do need some information though,” I say.

“There it is. You haven’t been to see me in months. I knew you needed something.”

I didn’t realize Paulie paid attention to my visits and feel a little guilty.

“I didn’t realize you cared so much. I’ll start coming more often”

“Don’t do me any favors,” he grunts, “I’m just fine on my own.”

I make a mental note to come see him once a week and bring him lunch.

“Tell me about these guys,” I point to a picture of his grandsons wrestling a puppy in a green yard.

He lights up and tells me about each one forgetting that he’s miffed with me. After I listen intently for about twenty minutes I realize it’s four and I’m going to be late to teach the kids if I don’t get the information I need.

“I need to ask you something.” I started easing into my questions. “I was attacked by some men in a bar the other night and they were pretty mad at dad. I asked him, but you know how they don’t ever give a straight answer?”

“I do,” Paulie said but didn’t offer up anything else.

“Tell me what happened, please. Why are they so angry?”

“So, you must be talking about all the boys that worked with him for years. No offense boy, your dad has been good to me, but his loyalty is lousy.” Paulie stands and opens the little refrigerator again taking out a can of soda.

“Tell me about it. Do you know why they were let go?” I ask looking up towards the building where a man in a suit has just walked out. He does the hand pat thing on his jacket until he finds his keys. I breathe a sigh of relief when I am sure it’s not my father.

“Well, the official reason is he found a company that will use machines to create the storage containers, but I talked to Miss Sherrie, your father’s secretary.” He leans in and lowers his voice making his eyebrows go way up. I take this to mean, he’s about to tell me a secret.

“Go on,” I find myself leaning in too.

“She said he’s sending the work overseas. The people over there will work cheaper and ship the boxes. He’s saving a fortune,” he tells me. “Don’t know why she’s so impressed, he’d probably ship her in for a cheaper model if he could. No offense Charlie.”

“No worries,” I say and think for a minute. “So,” I start carefully, “the men don’t know he’s shipped the work away. They just think he’s bringing in machines.”

“I guess he figured they’d be less mad with that excuse.” Paulie shrugged and took a long drink from his can.

“So, my dad is a pillar of the community. A supporter of local business and the people in this fine town, and he just sold out.”

“Pretty much. It’s nearing five o’clock and your dad goes for a jog."

"Oh, he still runs."

"He does, listen kid. I'd be careful if you are messing with your dad's businesses. I don't know what's going on, but those men are not the only people mad at him if you know what I mean."

"I do, Paulie. Dad's a dick."

"Okay, I'm not getting into it, but you're a smart boy."

“Yeah, I gotta go anyway. Teaching the kids. I’ll come by next week.”

I walked back to the parking deck quickly so I could avoid my dad. I heard Paulie mumble something like “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

The studio I teach at was built for me by my grandpa. He was one of the only family members in my life who believed in my music. He was also the one who brought Thomas into my life. My grandpa had been great friends with a music producer back in the day. He told me of all the parties they’d attended. I smile at the memory. My grandpa loved to tell those stories.

The studio is in a small shopping center next to the boardwalk. It’s next to a building my father used to ship out of right after he inherited the company. It was much bigger than the space grandpa bought but dear old dad refused to let us fix it up.

My little studio is nice. The parents of the kids I teach feel comfortable with the location and space. I’m about three minutes late so they’ll be waiting with their kids to get in the door. I only have four.

There are the twins Brady and Braleen, they’re five. There’s Austin my ten-year-old quick learner and Sophia, an adorable little brunette with a shy personality. All of them are from wealthy families and live in the upper part of town in the same area as my parents. They pay a lot for me to teach music to their children so I take it seriously.

I walk up and apologize to the parents who are all pretty understanding. The twin’s mother Sheila Foster touches my arm.

“It’s okay that you’re late. You do such a wonderful job with my little angels,” She coos at me.

“Thank you, Mrs. Foster,” I say and smile. Sophia’s dad chuckles and hugs his daughter. He’s seen the woman’s advances before and likes to joke about it if he’s the first to pick up his daughter. It wouldn’t make me uncomfortable if she wasn’t married to my father’s business associate Reginald Foster. Not only is he someone I know, he’s terrifying.

“I’ve told you over and over, call me Sheila,” she moves closer as the twins run into the studio and start chasing each other. This is the moment Addy walks up.

“Hi Charlie,” she seems amused by my current predicament.

“Thank you, Shelia, I say and move away from her. “We better get started.”

The older woman gives Addy an evil glare as she walks away and I put my arm around her guiding her into the room.

“Braleen and Brady calm down and get your guitars. Addy, you can sit right here.” I pull out the only chair I have in the whole building. It’s an old black leather chair and came with the place. It’s got studs on the seat covering and looks like it belonged in some sort of S and M club.

I’m a little nervous to teach in front of Addy. She’s a teacher of music, and probably a lot better at it than I am. As I get into showing them chords and talking about music I put impressing her in the back of my mind and focus on the kids. I've always treated them like little adults. I think that's the reason they learn so much from me.

"Alright first I'm going to introduce you to a very special guest," I say as I wink at Ada. "This is Miss Springfield. She's a music teacher at the high school so you know she knows her stuff.”

All four little heads nod in agreement.

“Let’s show her how good we’re going. First, we’re going to go through the chords we learned last week.”

I walk the kids through their chords and as always, they nail it. I have been blessed with four little savants. I look over to see Ada smiling so at least I am impressing her.

We go through their chords again and then I help each of them play Mary Had a Little Lamb on their guitars. I'm so proud of all of them.

 

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