Finn winked. “Got it in one. Yes, a music teacher. Does your groan mean you don’t approve?”
“No. It means I’m an idiot for never asking and not figuring it out sooner,” she said, covering her face with her hands. “I’m mortified. That night I spent babbling on, telling you the answer to every question you asked, and in return, I asked bubkis aboutyou. What a self-involved horrible person I must come across as.”
Finn reached out to remove her hands from her face. “No, not at all. In fairness, you were a bit tired as I’d dragged you out in the middle of the night. I couldn’t expect you to be firing off questions the way I was. But I thought it was time I pointed it out.”
“Yes. It was. Thank you,” she said contritely, as she tried to keep all her other memories of that night at bay.
“You’re welcome,” he said with a nod.
“You must be a pretty amazing teacher, too, to get that kind of reaction,” Penelope enthused, trying to make up for her previous apparent lack of interest.
“To some more than others. Mary is one of my more committed and vocal performers. She loves to sing.”
“She’s good?”
“She’s enthusiastic,” he corrected.
“Ah,” Penelope nodded, catching on. “Well, she adores you.”
“Come on. Time for round two,” Finn said before the conversation could go any further. “We’ve had dessert. Let’s go pick out dinner. Then you can ask me all the questions you want and act as if that was your intention all along.”
“Maybe it was,” she said defensively after a beat, but he’d already disappeared.
Penelope spent as much time berating herself as she did looking for food. No wonder he hadn’t called or texted. She must have come across as an utterly self-centered nitwit of a girl. What a horrible impression—one that she needed to rectify immediately.
When they met up again, she returned with loaded fries, having been too distracted to find anything more daring. His hands were filled with a cardboard box that appeared to containpizza. They spotted each other from opposite sides of the seating area. With his chin, Finn indicated one of the last remaining seats, and they both lurched forward with urgency. He beat her, grabbing the corner of a long leather couch, just as another couple approached. The other end of it was already occupied.
“Sorry,” he said with a sympathetic smile, putting down his box and napkins in a proprietary way.
Sliding onto the brown faux leather couch next to him, Penelope sunk into it, flashing a similarly sympathetic smile as the couple turned away discouraged. Still settling herself, she momentarily lost her balance leaning up against Finn, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne. The desire to stay right there held her. If only she knew if he wanted that too. The thought of spilling her fries all over him wasn’t a particularly attractive one, though.
She had, at least, been building up a list of questions to ask him.
Righting herself, she launched in, “So, what grade do you teach? Music, right? Is it over a few grades or just one?” She tried to sound casual, ignoring the way her cheek twitched nervously, unsure if he would tease her some more.
“How nice of you to be interested,” he answered, never cracking a smile, as he handed her some napkins. “Yes. Music. I teach at the primary school level, which is like elementary school in America. I teach all the different grades there. I used to do private lessons as well. But since I started gigging more, I dropped that for the time being.”
“Which do you enjoy more, teaching or gigging?”
He opened the pizza box as he spoke, moving her fries so they rested on the empty side of his box, making both foods easily accessible.
“Well, if I’m honest, they both have their pros and cons. When you’ve got a great audience, not just a bunch of drunksor a small, uninterested crowd, there’s nothing like the feeling of capturing people with a song. I suppose the same can be said of teaching. When you’ve got kids that want to learn and aren’t messing, that’s magical too.”
Penelope nodded her agreement. She knew exactly what he meant. There was nothing like knowing you’d actually reached your students, connected with them, and taught them something new. Of course, there was always a time and place for fun, too. The more you could work it in, the better. But with some classes, it really had to be curtailed—they were just too hard to get back on track.
“How long have you been teaching?”
“About five years now. Remember, I’m the older cousin,” he reminded her.
“And why didn’t Bonnie ever mention it to me?’
Finn shrugged. “Got me there. It’s possible she didn’t remember or just didn’t think you needed to know.”
Penelope couldn’t help the eyeroll that followed. Both were entirely possible. Sometimes, Bonnie could be self-involved like that. But part of Penelope couldn’t help wondering if Bonnie had kept it from her intentionally, not wanting another level for them to connect on. She cut those thoughts off before wandering too far down that path. She already regretted her recent behavior towards Bonnie. She didn’t need something else to feel guilty about.
Looking down at her first slice of pizza, Penny pushed herself to be brave. “And where were you thinking about taking me on our next trip from the city?”
“Oh… uh… well.” It was apparent the question caught him off guard. What hurt more was how uncomfortable it seemed to make him. He took his time, chewing his pizza well past what was needed before answering. “I guess I hadn’t really thoughtabout it. I mean, what with Siobhàn not really up for anything, I guess, ah, maybe we should just wait to plan anything.”
