How is it already the last day at school before I start at LA Phil? Although the students, Mr. Caloosta, and David made sure to send me off knowing I make a difference here, I’m certain that I’ve decided on the right choice to start the path for my new career—a dirt path if you want to have the same vision as me. Greatest of all, I’m proud of myself.
“So, that’s it, huh?” David moves aside a farewell balloon from my last period’s students as he makes his way to me, cleaning out my desk.
“It’s hard to believe, but yeah. This is it.” My lips spread to reveal clenched teeth.
He slides onto the chair closest to me. “I’m really going to miss having you around here but can’t be happier for you. I know it’s what’s best.”
“I’ll miss seeing you so much too, but we’ll still hang out all the time. Don’t worry, I’m going to need someone to come with me to visit the gang in Temecula Valley as I establish myself.”
“I’m there for it. And for you.” He smiles in his open-hearted, can’t-be-mistaken-for-ulterior-motives David way.
What a relief that everything has been aired out, and we remain us, even though the main man in my life isn’t on my dirt path. See, that’s how true connections are—relationships that can overcome roadblocks and be better for them, not get stuck in the mud.
“Thanks for going with me to visit my parents today so I can tell them about Christian and me. When I told them about accepting the position, I left out the real reason. You know Flora knew, though.”
“Of course I’ll go with you. If you want, I’ll come inside too.”
“No, I think it should just be us. Having you there may make them act weird. Parents aren’t the same with guests present, even though you are honorary family by now.” I throw the last of my personal items from my desk into a box. I can’t leave my extra hair tie and a granola bar behind.
“I hear you. Well, I need to get some jasmine tea at the Asian market for my own parents, so I’ll go there and occupy myself until you’re done. My mom’s favorite is only sold in a few places, and one is close to your parents’ house. This gives me a good opportunity.” He looks toward the large window to the side of us.
“Thanks for not making me drive there and back by myself, in case I need to talk in person afterward.”
Meeting eyes, he says, “These are some life-changing things you’re going through. I don’t want you to feel alone.”
“I never do with good friends like you.” Standing up, I strap on my cello case and pick up the box. I’m one lucky lady to have such love around me, never alone and supported to stand on my own.
“Any going-away cake left?” He looks back toward the windowsill where it sits. “I can use another slice for the road.”
“Yeah, help yourself. And thanks for suggesting my favorite, chocolate cake with chocolate-fudge frosting.” I lick my lips by reflex.
“There’s only one chunk left. Want it?”
“Twist my arm. Let’s split it, though. I’ll have my half finished in three-two-one.” Stuffing the gooey clump in my mouth, I enjoy the last moment in my classroom to the fullest.
Still chewing while turning off the lights for the last time, I close the door on a room and a chapter of my career.
“David is more than welcome to come in.” Mom waves to him from the front door as he waves back and pulls away from the curb.
“Nah, he has an errand to run. And I need to talk to you two on my own,” I say, sitting on the couch.
Dad releases a sigh of comfort as his body meets his armchair but asks, “Is something wrong?” with a scared expression.
Mom joins me on the couch and echoes, “Yeah, tell us. And do you want some biscotti and coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”
“No, I’m fine, but thanks. Let me get to it.” The room’s pure silence, usually blasting with music played by us or the radio, is begging to be filled—even with news like mine. “Christian and I haven’t been doing so well.” I dip my head.
“We’ve…noticed.” Dad’s chair creaks as he angles toward us from the other side of the coffee table.
“I suspected.” Flashes of their past parental concerned faces come to mind. “And I thank you for not questioning me about it.”
“It’s not our business. But we don’t like what we’ve been seeing, Toni.” Mom places her warm, soft hand on my trouser-covered knee. “Christian is not the same young man we knew.”
Head still bowed, I admit, “Yeah, he’s been different for the last year or so.”
“Personally, I think it’s been longer than that,” Dad adds.
I never want to admit how long I’ve tried to be happy and make us work, especially to them. “The phrase love is blind exists for a reason.” I pause. “So, we’re going to couples counseling tomorrow. It took a long time to get in, and now it may be too late for us.”
“It’s not if you don’t want it to be.” Mom gently grips her caring hand.
“Well, that’s the other bit of news to tell you. I’m not convinced staying married to him is right for me anymore.” I wince like I’m twelve years old again and they have the power to punish me for being naughty. “But I’m giving it one more chance in therapy.” Even as the words leave my mouth, I’m not convinced they can overcome what my intuition is screaming at me.
Neither of my parents verbalize a response, though their stiff body language speaks volumes.
I pivot my head between them and continue, “That’s the real reason I took the LA Phil spot.”
“I don’t understand.” Mom retracts her hand and falls back into the couch, her voice quiet.
I explain my logic and, with each word, feel the synchronizing of our bond. They flow out like playing a song I’ve known my entire life. Each change in volume, intensity, and tempo pour from my heart as they’re received with appreciation from the audience.
“Life is short. You gotta do what you want.” Dad’s simple phrase he said all those years ago when I went off to college still rings true.
“I’ve been learning that recently. And I know what I want now,” I agree.
I continue by sharing everything from the loan details to the property I wish could be mine down south…just not the you-know-what David part. Hey, parents don’t need every last drop of specifics.
Dad hugs me on my way out the door. “My baby’s got a good head on her shoulders. And talent galore. I’m glad you know that now.”
Mom swoops in next for her hug. “We’ll help you get through this. It’ll be fine, just fine.”
David, who returned a few minutes ago, smiles and adds, “She’s got us. What more could she need?” He throws up his hands to pair with his humorous comment.
“And that’s why we keep you around, kid.” Dad returns the humor as he shakes his hand.
It’s always been easy having him around my parents. I need more of that in my life, and I’m on my way. But first, counseling.