Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 93957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“You will if you practice,” I replied sagely. “It’s like I told your dad…no one picks up a guitar and turns into Prince.”
“Not even you?”
I smiled, loving that he felt comfortable enough to joke around with me. “Hard to believe, right? I was awful. But playing guitar was the first thing I remember wanting to be good at. I didn’t have a grand plan. I didn’t think about being in a band or where that might lead. I just wanted to play a song.”
“What was the first song you learned to play?”
“ ‘Love Me Do’ by the Beatles. Easy fu—freaking song to learn. Just two chords till you get to the bridge. G major, C major, and boom…add D major and you’ve got yourself a hit. Watch my fingers.”
I played the song slowly, exaggerating my finger placement and calling out the chord changes. I bent my head, clandestinely observing him from under my messy hair. Parker’s expression was earnest now, as if he were memorizing puzzle pieces and trying to figure out how to put them together. He couldn’t learn that until I taught him the notes of the strings and how to form chords.
We spent a good half hour or more going over chord progression and applying them to the simplest songs I could remember. I didn’t know if it would stick, but Parker was an attentive pupil. He stayed focused and engaged, and even asked a few questions. It wasn’t until his sister ran into the room yelling something about cupcakes and frosting that I realized we’d gone well over the hour I’d allotted for our lesson.
I grinned after the happy hurricane zipping through the den and out again like a mad messenger.
“Looks like we’re out of time. I don’t want to keep you from your cupcakes.” I placed my guitar in its case and snapped the cover shut before glancing at Parker.
He stood and held the borrowed instrument by the neck. “Here you g-go. Thank you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I have a question for you, and I need an honest answer. Do you want to learn to play?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Then keep the guitar. You’ll need it to practice.”
“But it’s y-yours.”
“Yeah, I’m not giving it to you, but I’ll let you borrow it. If you’re into it, you’ll want your own. If you’re not into it, you won’t have to feel guilty about letting dust collect on some fancy piece your parents buy for you,” I said, pleased with myself for sounding so mature and reasonable.
Parker nodded. “Thanks. That’s nice of you.”
“You’re welcome. We went over a lot. If you think of something later, ask your dad to give you my number. You can text me if you want,” I offered, bending to pick up the case.
“Are you c-coming back? I mean…to teach?” he stuttered.
“We can probably work something out. Any questions before I go?”
He furrowed his brow and raked his teeth over his top lip, then his bottom lip. I couldn’t tell if he was suddenly really nervous or in a state of deep concentration. Maybe both. I didn’t push him. I tightened my grip on the handle of my guitar case and waited him out.
“Um…y-yeah. You don’t have to answer, but—why did you paint your nails?”
I couldn’t help it. I busted up laughing. “That’s your question?”
Parker blinked furiously and shook his head. “I’m s-sorry. I’m—”
“Hey, no. It’s cool. You surprised me. That’s all.” I held out my hand and smiled kindly. “The answer is…I have no idea why I did it. I just felt like it. Do you love it or hate it?”
“I like it.” He licked his lips and added, “For you. I wouldn’t want to p-paint mine, but I think it’s cool for y-you.”
Uh-huh. I was lost. The kid was obviously saying something or asking something, but I had no idea what it might be. So I went with instinct.
“You should always do what’s cool for you. Within reason, of course. It’s not cool to rob a bank if you need money, but if you feel a deep desire to try on some lip gloss, then yeah, you should go for it.” I gestured toward my mouth. “By the way, I’m wearing MAC Ruby Woo, in case you’re curious. And I only know that ’cause that’s what the label says.”
“Your lips aren’t red. They’re just tinted.”
“Hmm. It must have worn off.” I frowned and moved to the decorative mirror next to the bookshelves. “No, it’s still there.”
“A little, but you can’t tell what color it is,” he said, moving to my side.
I gave a half laugh and shrugged. “I’m color-blind, so you’d probably know better. I need to get that lip stain stuff that lasts all day. Thanks for the heads-up.”
“You’re color-blind?”
“Yep.”
He followed me into the foyer. “Wait, so…you only see in black and white?”
“And gray.”