Chapter 1
Shawna Woods took a deep breath.
A really deep breath.
“You’re a strong, independent woman who can handle this,” she told herself sternly.
Well, at least she looked the part.
In the dark blue pantsuit and soft white cotton shirt, she looked perfectly professional. Her legs were long and shapely, though the trousers didn’t emphasize the shape. Her eyes, a dark brown, were Bambi wide, but she had a shrewdness that wasn’t evident in them. The warmth, however, was obvious.
Her hair, usually wild, had been ruthlessly tamed into a bun at the nape of her neck.
She looked sleek, professional, competent and approachable enough for parents to trust her with their worlds, which was what her job entailed.
Her new job, for which she would be late if she didn’t get her fine ass moving, thought Shawna.
She acknowledged the reluctance she felt, and told herself to let it go.
“It’s got to be done. For Layla,” she told herself, as if she needed reminding.
Layla, who was already at dance practice, and already making her big sister so proud.
So Shawna grabbed her bag – a sleek briefcase that she really shouldn’t have bought, but Layla had insisted – and walked out of the apartment that was small but meticulously kept, welcoming but still a little wary.
Shawna drew a few stares as she got on the bus. She smiled nervously, knowing that she hoped to be a regular and it would do her well to fit in.
“New job?”
The lady who asked her that was old and wizened but dressed in bright colors.
“Is it obvious?”
Shawna’s smile was a little sheepish.
“You look nervous. Haven’t seen you on this route. I go almost every day. I work five stops down.”
Shawna smiled and nodded.
“I’m starting as music teacher at Elton’s.”
The lady whistled.
“Posh.”
Shawna grinned, and there were no nerves now.
She understood people.
“I know. I’m afraid I won’t quite fit in.”
Never before had she been quite so aware of her ebony skin and not-so-delicate features. For a moment, she had wished she were small, blonde, pale and sweet.
But Shawna knew who she was and took pride in who she had become, so that had been a short-lived moment, and one she’d been ashamed of soon enough.
“I think you’ll do just fine, dear. Lovely hands. Good voice. Good luck with your first day.”
Shawna nodded her thanks, her nerves settling for the moment.
But as her stop drew near, they rose again. Ignoring the butterflies, she stepped out, made a conscious effort to straighten her spine and raise her chin, and strode confidently up the sidewalk and to the massive gates.
She was definitely in the better part of town now – the other side of the tracks. Independent homes with perfectly manicured gardens, long driveways and prominent gates stretched as far as the eye could see. The school itself had been a private estate that had been endowed to an education trust, and admission was reserved to the progeny of the privileged.
A far cry from the public school where she had taught until a few weeks ago, before she’d gotten the chance to apply to sub at Elton’s, and the position had unexpectedly become a more permanent one – subject to probation and all terms and conditions, of course.
Thinking of her old students caused a pang, but she couldn’t afford to indulge herself.
She hadn’t abandoned them. She’d still be there for them.
Besides, money didn’t solve children’s problems. Neglect, insecurity, pressure, expectations – children struggled with all of those things, rich or poor.
Of course, these children’s problems would probably never involve finding food for dinner or a place to sleep at night.
“No prejudices,” she whispered to herself as she walked in.
Refusing to be intimidated by the old and perfectly maintained stone structure with its rather imposing arches and columns, and the dark, polished woodwork, she made her way to the principal’s office.
“Ah, Ms. Woods, you’re well in time.”
The principal’s assistant was a bit of a tartan, Shawna had noticed during her first interview. But something about Shawna seemed to have softened her a little.
“Thank you, Ms. Bunton.”
“Go on in.”
Taking a deep breath, Shawna walked in, and tried not to be intimidated by the man who was reputed to be a stern taskmaster, and an erudite scholar.
“Dr. Jenkins…”
“Ah, Ms. Woods. Good, you’re here. I trust you got the paperwork, your schedule, your list of students and so on?”
Shawna nodded.
“I did. I wanted to thank you, again, for giving me this opportunity. I won’t let you down.”
“I expect you to stand or fall on your own merits, Ms. Woods. It’s tradition for me to meet you and wish you luck, but Ms. Bunton will introduce you to your colleagues.”
And just like that, she was at work.
Shawna smiled and nodded her way through introductions. A little nervous, she sat down at the desk that was apparently hers and finer than anything she had ever worked at, and went through the schedule she knew by heart by now.
“I’m in Bach A at ten.”
“Yes, that’s down the corridor, up a flight of stairs, and third door on the right. Teaching a bunch of six- and seven-year-olds music isn’t exactly my cup of tea.”
The rake, she categorized immediately as the math teacher grinned toothily at her. Teaches teenagers and likes the attention, she surmised.
“I believe I’ll enjoy myself,” said Shawna quietly and firmly, and busied herself with the bit of paperwork that was left, and tried to soothe her nerves.
The school was one of few that prioritized arts as much as the sciences. Gifted children were given excellent grounding until they were about twelve, and then they usually went on to either be homeschooled, or to go to specialized schools.
Maybe, if she’d had opportunities like that…
Water under the bridge. Layla would have that opportunity now. That was Shawna’s promise to herself and the memory of their parents.
Her duties would include preparing personal progress reports for each student, creating a teaching plan that covered multiple instruments and genres, and keeping the children entertained. She would also cover music history, in bite-sized portions that young minds could visualize and understand.
It was a daunting job.
Maybe teaching teenagers was easier. She wasn’t sure how good she would be with such young children, even if she had trained for it specifically. Her six years experience in teaching was with teenagers and pre-teens.
This would be very different.
She could handle it. She liked children.
Ten found her standing outside the door with ‘Bach A’ printed on it, and taking a deep breath, she opened it.
There was none of the pandemonium she would’ve expected, but then the children were supervised, as they always were.
“Thank you, Mr. Jones,” said Shawna, and nodded at the young man who was obviously waiting to leave.
Shawna turned to the children, and she smiled.
“I’m Ms. Shawna Woods. I’m your new music teacher. Why don’t you tell me all your names?”
There was wariness from the children, and a sense of confidence that only came from being very young and trusting. Had she ever been like that?
She must’ve been.
Shawna was soon comfortable, and she hoped that her students were, too. It was usually easy enough to slot them into places.
There were the sweet and shy ones, the shy and sly ones, the brash and loud ones who were currently on their best behavior, and the wary ones.
It was definitely different from teaching teenagers at a public school. There would be no gum on the chair for her to sit on, there would be no wobbly chair legs, and definitely no deliberately out of tune instruments.
Shawna avoided the instruments for the moment, though her fingers itched to get her hands on them. She knew the students, of course, in a way. She’d already received instructions about which parents preferred to have their kids start on which instruments.
She’d have to change their minds on that if she had to. Shawna was determined to let her students choose their paths.
It took her all of five minutes before she forgot her nerves, and settled down.
“Well, Betty, that’s an excellent rendition of ‘Old King Cole’. I’m very impressed. It’s almost professional!”
The young girl, a redhead who looked like a pixie, beamed her pleasure.
“Now, I have five of you down for the piano, and three of you for the violin. Is that what you want to do?”
There was some hesitation in the nods and the chorus of ‘Yes Miss Woods’ so Shawna decided that she would look into that.
She would never make a student work on something that didn’t engage their souls.
“Ryan, how about you?” asked Shawna, gently.
Ryan, the blonde, blue-eyed child with a vulnerability that tugged at her heart, looked at her, his eyes wide.
“I don’t know.”
Shawna smiled and ruffled his hair.
“Well, then we’ll try a bit of everything and see what you like, won’t we? Jason, please stop that, I can see you. I do have eyes in the back of my head. I keep them in my bun. So be very careful indeed.”
Jason, Shawna had decided, was the troublemaker.
Well, if she could deal with teenage troublemakers, she could deal with pint-sized ones.
When the bell rang, Shawna felt she had done reasonably well. She was supposed to take them to their next lesson, but she wasn’t too sure of the way.
“You have math now, don’t you? I’m not sure, where are you supposed to meet Mr. Banks?”
Shawna looked down to see little Ryan standing next to her, and she was touched when she felt his little fingers hold on to hers.
“I know the way, Miss Woods.”
There was a little lisp there, but it was adorable.
“Then why don’t we lead the way together?” suggested Shawna, and shepherded her class along.
Ryan was as good as his word. He did know the way, and the room was only two doors down. But Ryan didn’t seem to want to let go of her hand.
“I like the violin,” he blurted out, looking at her steadily.
Shawna nodded.
“I’m glad. I love the violin. Don’t tell anybody else, but it’s my favorite. I’m sure the violin will love you, too.”
His fingers, she noticed, were delicate and long. He’d be able to hold a violin and the bow, at least, and do so steadily.
“Ah, Miss Woods, thank you.”
She nodded her acknowledgment and smiled as he closed the door.
Taking a step away, Shawna took a deep breath.
That had gone well.
She would have classes with individual students depending on their vocation and their parents’ choices. She would also be teaching the next two grades as well, and she’d be subbing for any class that needed it.
It would be hard work because the standards she’d be held to were extremely high. But the work was nowhere near as arduous as her old job, at the old school.
So why did she feel nostalgic for the groups of unruly teenagers she’d taught?
Sighing, Shawna made her way back to the teachers’ lounge, ready to write up her notes and her insights from the class.
She knew she’d need them.
It wasn’t difficult. Shawna remembered every detail from the class.
But when she got to Ryan Rogers, her fingers faltered just a little.
He’d been so serious, thought Shawna, as if the weight of far too much was on his frail little shoulders.
He was a little small for six, and he seemed so earnest, as if he was determined to do his best, and so worried that he might not.
That was far too much worrying for a boy so young.
He seemed set on learning the violin, though, and she had recognized the look in his eyes as he eyed the violin. She’d had the same look in her eyes when she’d been about his age.
She’d been lucky that her grandfather had had a violin for her to learn on, because otherwise, there was no way she could’ve afforded lessons or the instrument.
But she’d done well enough, in the end. Not as well as she’d wanted to, of course. Nowhere near as well as Ryan could, potentially, with the resources at his fingertips.
Shawna set her thoughts aside for later when she felt herself being drawn into that rabbit hole again, and focused on work.
The first one was always the hardest, thought Shawna, a few hours later.
She’d handled her two other lessons, got her subbing schedule, and had met most of the students she’d be teaching.
She’d have far more responsibilities than she’d expected, but that suited her very well. Shawna wasn’t used to having loads of free time to do as she pleased.
It was still more time than she’d had at her old job, where she’d taken the load of three and done it very well, too.
It was almost a shock when the day was over.
“Looks like you survived,” said an older woman with her gray hair drawn into a severe bun. She seemed almost entirely gray, but when she smiled, Shawna smiled back.
Ms. Stepp, she recalled, who taught science.
“I did, I guess. Everybody has been warm and welcoming.”
Ms. Stepp smiled again.
“We’re not too bad. It’s nice to have you here, Shawna. You have an excellent reputation.”
Shawna was startled.
“I do?”
“Of course. I knew your old music teacher. He used to talk about you. He always said that you could’ve been much more, but it looks like you have somehow ended up where you needed to be.”
Shawna nodded, unsure of what to say.
“You knew Mr. Yates. He was wonderful. He… I still miss him.”
“Everybody who knew him does. I’m sorry I couldn’t welcome you earlier, but my schedule is fairly demanding today. Now, the standard here is quite high, so if you want your kids to keep up in higher grades, you need to keep an eye on the gifted ones and make sure they get the coaching they should. It’s usually easier than it sounds – the parents are big on micromanaging. It’s more difficult to tell them that their child isn’t the prodigy they think he is. Trust your gut. It tells you what it does for a reason. If you need any help, I’m available.”
Shawna nodded again, grateful for the welcome and the offer.
“I appreciate it. Thank you, Ms. Stepp. I… I really am glad you’re here.”
The older woman smiled and was on her way, her sensible shoes clicking along the floor.
Shawna didn’t wait for more offers of friendship, though. Suddenly, she felt suffocated, though there was no reason for it. Everybody had been perfectly friendly and welcoming.
She just felt like she might never quite belong.
Shawna was grateful to go back home.
She was almost unreasonably weary as she finally climbed up the stairs and opened the door.
But she smiled when she did.
“Shawna? Is that you? I hope it is, but if it isn’t, I’ve got a knife!”
She grinned now.
Layla was always value for money as far as entertainment was concerned.
“It’s me, but I’d call myself Shawna if I weren’t after that threat.”
The whirlwind who ran to Shawna and grabbed her in a bear hug was her sister and the person she loved the most.
At eighteen, she was six years younger than Shawna, and she was still so full of hopes and dreams. She was also so bright – schoolwork had never been a problem for her, and she’d negotiated her schedules with her teachers so determinedly, graduating early and getting into the arts program of her dreams.
Shawna was determined to do her best to make sure that none of them would be crushed.
“You’re home earlier than I thought! I’m cooking. We’re having a home-cooked meal that you didn’t have to cook, and I’m following grandmama’s recipe book, so it should be fine. Meatloaf, salad and mashed potatoes.”
It should be difficult to mess that up, even with the notable lack of culinary talent that Layla had so far displayed.
“Thank you. How was dance class?”
Layla grinned, stepped back, and did three pirouettes.
“What do you think?”
“I think you’ll be a headliner at Vegas, if all else fails.”
Layla chuckled.
Sometimes, Shawna fretted over how she could shield her innocent young sister from the world. She was so full of joy, and the world was so full of people so eager to manipulate that joy.
“Wouldn’t that be fun! I would have my name in lights then, won’t I?”
That light, vowed Shawna again to herself, would never go out.
No matter what she had to do, Layla would have every opportunity to make her dreams come true.
“You would. I’ll send you flowers, so many that there will be no room in your dressing room for the ones all your admirers send you.”
Layla laughed, and the sound was pure joy.
Shawna swore she would never let anything take that joy away, no matter what.
“Yours are all I need. Come on, tell me all about your day. I’ve got a bottle of wine. I know, only apple juice for me, and I wouldn’t have it anyway.”
Shawna beamed with pride.
Layla had just turned eighteen, but she wouldn’t risk her future for anything.
“Wow,” said Shawna, surprised.
Layla was a very skilled dancer, and had chosen the difficult path of ballet. Now that she was beginning to feel the differences in styles, thanks to her less than classical teaching so far, she was a little stressed out. But she was doing well, and the partial scholarship she’d gotten helped, too.
Layla was smart, beautiful, hardworking and tenacious enough to succeed.
Except when she had to follow a recipe.
“I tried really hard. Truly, I didn’t mess anything up?”
Shawna shook her head.
“You didn’t. You absolutely didn’t. You also ate very little, or you’d know that for yourself.”
Layla smiled.
“Ballerina, remember? Need those lines. But I had a smoothie earlier, and I had my salad, and a bit of the meatloaf, so don’t worry, Shawna. I’m taking care of myself, I promise.”
“I know. I know you are.”
“Anyway, tonight is about you. Tell me about your day. How was it?”
Shawna looked at Layla, so young and eager, so heartbreakingly beautiful with those wide eyes and delicate features, so sensitive, and smiled.
“It was different. Not difficult, really, but, boy, Layla, the place is posh. The amount of expectation on these kids, even so young, is incredible. I’m going to have to do some Montesorri training to get up to speed with some of it, and I’ll need to figure out how to handle instruments for them. They’re so young and so tiny, Layla! Some of their parents seem to be real dragons!”
Layla leaned forward.
“But if you could’ve learned, properly, at seven, wouldn’t you have?”
Shawna hesitated.
“I guess I would’ve. But it isn’t the same for everybody. Some people have it in their souls. Expecting those who don’t to put in that time is unfair.”
Layla shook her head.
“But it’s music, Shawna. Even for those who don’t love it like you do, it’s fun. Anyway, you can choose your lessons, can’t you? Your lesson plans should be fun. Tell me about the kids. Are they sweet? Are they horrible?”
Shawna chuckled.
“They are… There’s one kid, Ryan. Layla, he looks like an angel, all curly blonde hair and big blue eyes, and so serious! He told me that he wants to learn the violin. He has long fingers – strong fingers. I’ll see if he takes to it, but I won’t pressure any of them. I won’t do it.”
“I’m sure you won’t be expected to, Shawna,” comforted Layla.
Shawna pulled herself out of it.
“Tell me about your day.”
Layla smiled.
“I’m sore everywhere. Everywhere. There’s a new choreographer coming tomorrow, and he’ll choose the leads for his new piece – it’s not for the principals, so it’s not a big performance, but I’m in with a shot. I’m not going to get any of the traditional ones, but I really want something. I’m already so old for this stage.”
Shawna rolled her eyes.
“You’re not. You have the steepest and fastest rise of anybody there. Just because you didn’t join as early as some of them did doesn’t mean that you aren’t doing well enough. It means that you’re extraordinary.”
It was rare for the doubt to make itself known. Layla always hid it, especially from Shawna.
“I know. I know, it’s just a lot of pressure.”
“Layla, honey, you do your best and everything else will take care of itself. I promise you.”
Layla smiled again, but there were shadows there.
Shawna knew that there was nothing she could do to wipe those shadows away, no matter how much she tried, and tasted the beginnings of bitter defeat.
She couldn’t protect her sister from the world she had chosen. No matter what, that was beyond her.
She’d have to accept it and deal with it.