“Sorry about that,” he said with false cheerfulness. He had the same look in his eyes that he got when he was determined to play through a song he hated. “That tea went right through me.”
Ari bit the inside of his cheek. An oblique reference to bathroom activities was a tiny infraction compared to the ones committed by his parents in Jax’s absence.
“Oh, it’s fine,” Ari’s mother said, suddenly all light again. Ari wanted to relax, but he knew better. “Anyway, Jax, why don’t you tell us about yourself? Ari mentioned you’re a bartender. That must be… interesting work.”
Ari wished he’d insisted on bringing wine to serve with dinner. At least alcohol could dull some of this pain.
“Yeah, I love it,” Jax replied. “Who doesn’t like a good party? Work’s never boring. Ari probably remembers what it was like—you worked there for a while, didn’t you?”
“For three summers, when I was home from college,” Ari confirmed stiffly. Surely his parents remembered this.
Surely Jax had some reason for asking him to verify the information.
“That’s right,” Ari’s father said. “And Sean was kind enough to allow Ari to host a concert there so that local fans could attend.”
Thank you, Baba.Perhaps together the two of them could keep this meeting from derailing too spectacularly.
“That’s the night we met, actually.” Jax smiled and reached for Ari’s hand on the table. “I’m so glad I was able to bail him out when his pianist couldn’t make it. Call it Fate.”
What is he doing?But Ari couldn’t question Jax without making everything that much worse.
“That’s right, you play piano as well,” Baba put in. “Did you take lessons?”
Oh no. He was probably trying to help, but he’d just led them obliviously into a whole new minefield.
“No, no.” Jax reached for his water glass with his free hand. “I mean, not unless you count the six months of lessons I had when I was, what, eight? No formal musical education. But education’s not everything, right? Life experience counts for a lot.”
Once, several years ago, Ari had been in the passenger seat when his sister had no choice but to run into another car trying to cut them off. The only other option had been to fail at a lane change on the busiest highway in Ontario. She slammed on the brakes and they braced for impact. The seconds right before the crash had been some of the longest of his young life—knowing what was coming and unable to do anything about it.
It felt like this moment right now. Watching Jax implode the meeting with his parents while Ari could do nothing to fix it and couldn’t understand why it was happening to begin with.
“Nothing can make up for a solid education in a field one is passionate about,” his mother said stiffly.
Jax waved the idea away. “Education is great if you want it, but I’ve found it totally unnecessary for music. I can play most of the music I need through a bit of practicing and a lot of winging it. Most people don’t care if you fudge the chords.”
Ari stared at Jax. What was happening? He knew Jax didn’t actually think Ari’s degrees and training were useless. He’d never so much as hinted at such a thought. In fact he had admired the techniques and understanding Ari had learned at the conservatory. But the subtle dig still had Ari’s heart squeezing.
His mother narrowed her eyes. “I see. Well, I suppose if you feel education is a waste of time, then who am I to argue.” His father looked stunned and uncertain of what to say.
“Oh, not entirely a waste of time. In our overeducated society, an education to some degree is often needed for a job. But happily there is none required to pour drinks for drunkards, so I’m just fine.” He gave a dazzling and rather vapid smile, as if he had no idea what he was doing.
Ari wasn’t the least bit fooled, but he was absolutely flummoxed. He licked his lips and was about to say something, anything to just stop this, but his mother was faster.
“Well, I guess you must consider us a bunch of overeducated fools.”
“I would never say that,” Jax reassured her with a mock earnest face.
His parents definitely did not miss the implication that Jax might still think it.
“It seems that there isn’t much you wouldn’t say.”
Jax shrugged. “I’ve always been pretty good at opening my mouth.”
Ari almost dropped his jaw. Did Jax just make blowjob innuendo?
“Yes. That is a skill you seem to have perfected,” his mother said waspishly.
Ari was wrong—this wasn’t like watching a car pull out in front of you. This was like watching two cars driving at each other head-on and knowing you were in the path of the fallout and you couldn’t stop it.
