Undiscovered Territory by Chrissy Munder
1
It was Recital night. Normally Layne enjoyed them. There was
something special about the deep feelings of satisfaction and pride that
came from watching as each of his students struggled to impress
whatever horde of relatives came to cheer them on.
But the truth was that tonight his heart wasn’t in it. There were
too many reminders of times past, too many memories of when he
wasn’t solo in ownership of the small studio as well as in life.
It hadn’t been easy keeping everything going when Ian had left
him. But he’d managed. Throwing his time and energy into keeping the
small business running had helped. It had given him something to focus
on.
But while the small music studio had thrived in the aftermath of
the breakup his music and emotions hadn’t and there just wasn’t any joy
to be found in the simple things anymore. He found it difficult to play or
to compose and Layne felt the loss keenly without really knowing what to
do about it.
He gave a final glance to his lonely image in the mirror,
automatically squaring his shoulders and adjusting his shirt cuffs under
the fitted jacket sleeves. He looked good; he looked professional. But it
didn’t help. Layne could remember a time when he used to find magic in
his life and his work but not anymore.
With a heavy sigh and a toss of his blond hair Layne pasted a
professional smile on his face and stepped out to face the crowd of
parents and students leaving the silence of the still room behind him.
~*~*~*~
Layne was surprised to find there were several faces here tonight
he didn’t recognize, some were parents of his newer students that he
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needed to get to know and form a relationship with. Others must be
relatives brought along for support.
Layne viewed music and the lessons he gave as a partnership
between the student, the parent and himself. The desired result being a
wider appreciation and understanding of the world at large and the
student’s place within that world.
Ian had always laughed and found that view pretentious. It had
been a constant source of contention between the two of them. Layne
always regretted that his partner couldn’t ever seem to understand the
bridge between cultures that music could be; the difference it could
make in a child’s life.
He smiled automatically at a beaming pair of grandparents across
the room and waved at some of the parents of students he’d taught for
several years before he turned to head to the stage and managed to
bump into a man behind him.
“I’m so sorry.” Layne automatically extended his hand in greeting,
his eyes widening at his first glimpse of the attractive stranger. Wow. He
couldn’t help but wonder which student this man belonged to.
Layne would never forget the first time he rode in a hot air
balloon. With his fear of heights it had been the result of a drunken dare
from friends whose names he didn’t even remember now at some
fairground he couldn’t really recall being at.
Afraid he was going to be sick he’d closed his eyes, clutching at
the ropes that led from the woven basket to the brightly colored silk
above. He didn’t even know when they had lifted off the ground. There
had just been a gentle sway, a slight rocking and when he was finally
brave enough to look down it was into undiscovered territory.
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Nothing existed for Layne at that moment except the heat from
the burner, the slight queasiness of his stomach, the crisp rush of wind
and the silence that blanketed everything around him leaving him
breathless and aware of the music that played through his head. Music
his fingers itched to bring to life.
That’s exactly what he was feeling now as the callused hand slid
slowly away from his.
It was only a handshake.
But something about it touched the parts of him that he thought
were dead and atrophied with Ian’s betrayal and he could feel music
swelling within him for the first time in months, demanding he find an
instrument and set it free.
Layne’s joy at the unexpected feeling was tempered by his
realization that this had to be a parent of one of his students.
“So you’re the man responsible for my misery?” Hazel eyes
glinted in his direction and Layne could only shiver in unexpected
response. It really wasn’t fair! The feel of that voice was as sensuous as
the touch of the hand.
It made a music all it’s own, one that rasped and thrilled along his
nerve endings and Layne struggled to keep his eyes open, wanting
nothing more than to let them close and sink into the unexpected
sensations the voice created along his spine.
“I’m Terry Colburn, by the way.” There was a slightly wolfish
appeal to the half-smile, a teasing glimpse of canines that only accented
the comparison.
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“I’m sorry to hear you feel that way, Mr. Colburn.” Layne tried to
shrug off both the quick rush of lust and the faint hurt he felt at the
man’s unintended insult.
“When her mom told me about the music lessons I don’t think I
expected the accordion.” The surprise was still evident in that delicious
voice.
“Most parents don’t.” Layne replied a bit more calmly as he
placed the man with the small face of one of his students. He was used to
justifying the unusual choice of instruments he preferred to concerned
parents. This was a parent after all; he reminded himself. He needed to
focus and pull things together.
“I don’t mean to offend you. It’s just…” Broad shoulders shrugged
and Layne had to struggle not to stare at the movement of the powerful
muscles. “…I was thinking maybe the piano or flute.”
If Layne allowed himself to look any deeper into those amazing
eyes he might almost convince himself that was real concern for his
feelings shining out of them. But that couldn’t be possible.
“Perhaps later.” Layne brought his thoughts back to the child in
question. “Your daughter had a hard time opening up and expressing her
emotions. That’s not all together unusual. I’ve found that in such cases,
especially for younger children the accordion and the noises they can
create with it seem to help.”
“Her mom would say she gets that from me.” There was more
than a hint of embarrassment in the deep voice.
Keep it calm! Layne told himself as he watched those eyes crinkle
from the rueful smile that crossed the attractive face. Keep it
professional. Hitting on the parents of his students was not the best way
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to do business. Hitting on the apparently straight parents of his students
was both personal and career suicide.
“You are right about the noises, though.” Confessions out of the
way, Mr. Colburn seemed to relax. “She seems to love the scary ones.
Reminds me of an old Saturday television program. You know, the old
horror movies.” Oh now that unfettered grin was totally unfair, Layne
could only groan internally as his body wanted to react.
“Y’alright there?” That was definitely concern in that amazing
voice. “You look a trifle uncomfortable.”
You have no idea. Layne needed to reach down and adjust himself
but reminded himself once again where he was. Maybe once he got
behind the curtain he could rearrange his vital bits. “Probably just
nerves.” Layne wasn’t sure how he managed to smile.
“Performance anxiety?” A hearty clap to Layne’s shoulder
accompanied the cheerful words
Right.
Layne reminded himself that banging his head on the nearest wall
was not what one could consider professional behavior.
~*~*~*~
The actual recital portion of the evening went off smoothly. Well,
as smoothly as anything really could when children were involved. That
was part of what Layne enjoyed so much about teaching. There was a
wonder and delight when everything went right, an unfettered
expression of emotion when they didn’t.
It was with a lighter heart that he found himself grinning with
audience during a few missed cues, some dropped notes. A really
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horrendous squawk from the horn section during a particularly intense
piece brought the need for smothered laughter.
He was so proud of these kids.
The rest of the night was easier after that. It passed in a steady
blur of names and faces. He’d become proficient at matching the right
parent with the right child early on in his career courtesy of a few silly
rhyming and memory techniques.
So Layne didn’t have to think too hard to make nice and
congratulate those parents whose child had done well, placate those
whose young prodigy needed more work and spend extra time with
those whose child was ready for more formal training.
All the while his subconscious was following the actions of a
certain someone as they made their way around the small studio, looking
at the various projects and pictures pinned to the walls.
Finally Layne was down to the last few goodbyes and he could not
only count the recital a success but there was the promise of new
students as well. So many in fact that he might need to look at hiring
some additional teaching staff.
It was a fine evening all told, but now his feet were tired as the
elation of the performance drained away. His hand was sore from all the
handshakes and his jaw would be stiff tomorrow, and not for the right,
hazel-eyed reason.
As if conjured by his thoughts there was the wife of said reason
waiting to shake his hand. He tried to stretch his frozen smile a bit wider
as he congratulated her on her daughter’s talents before looking around
for her missing better half.
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“He was here?” Layne would swear the temperature of the room
actually lowered; the tone was so arctic. “I have no idea how he found
about this evening.”
Oops. The not so better half?
By the time she was done Layne’s ears were scorching from the
barrage of words that informed him that the “ex” who had showed up at
the recital was known by a capital and undoubtedly black X. Apparently
even though the man was picking up the tab for his daughter’s surprise
accordion lessons it didn’t cut any slack with the no longer Mrs.
That was interesting.
Still a parent. Still apparently straight. But not married.
Well, one out of three wasn’t bad.
~*~*~*~
After a restless night the next day at class brought even more
surprises into Layne’s life. Starting with his first group of students.
“My daddy likes you.” Layne looked down into the hazel eyes that
were so like her father’s.
“That’s nice.” He opinioned cautiously. He wasn’t quite sure
where this opening conversational gambit was headed.
“My mummy doesn’t.”
Layne froze, wondering for one brief panicked moment how those
two items could somehow be related before he decided that was
impossible.
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“Well, I like your mummy.” He offered with a cautious smile.
Skinny arms crossed over her small chest. “She says you’re just
his type and I’ll have to get another music teacher.” Tears threatened to
spill over. “I don’t want another teacher. I wanna play the ‘cordion.”
And this is why, Layne thought in disbelief, it didn’t pay to even
think about one of his student’s parents.
If Layne ignored the imagined Scarlet Letter that he now felt was
branded across his forehead the rest of the day passed smoothly. He had
managed to soothe the tears of young Mistress Colburn and sent her
home to her mother (who didn’t like him) in a calmer state of mind. He’d
even managed to avoid thinking about her father (who did like him) and
the strange sense of disorientation he felt at their meeting.
More difficult had been refusing to indulge in any rabid
speculation about the rest of the conversation. Including the fact there
weren’t too many ways to misinterpret the phrase “you’re just his type”.
~*~*~*~
The weeks passed by quickly and things seemed to settle down in
both Layne’s personal life and his work. He’d even managed to go out on
a few dates setup by well-meaning friends, refusing to spend his time at
home speculating on impossible what-ifs.
He may not have experienced that same intensity of feeling Terry
Colburn had brought into his life with one simple handshake, but he’d
met some nice men and hopefully made some new friends. If he’d been
unable to recapture that swell of music that had filled him, well, it had
come back once – it would come back again.
He hoped.
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It had been a busy day at the studio; he’d been interviewing for a
new keyboard instructor and met with the accountant as well to make
sure that the business could afford the added expense.
When he was looking for his keys to lock up Layne heard the shrill
ring of the office phone. He was going to let the machine pickup but
worried it could be about one of his students he quickly jogged the short
distance back to the desk to pick up the handset.
“Layne?”
He stood there stunned; earpiece clutched in his hand as his heart
stopped at the sound of the textured voice and the music it created
within him. Obviously he’d not been as successful at forgetting the man
as he’d thought.
“Mr. Colburn?” Layne responded. Inwardly groaning at the
upward squeak of his voice at the end.
“Erh, Terry, please.”
Layne thought the fact he managed not to whimper an amazing
accomplishment.
“Terry.” Layne whispered.
“I know it’s rather abrupt, but I was wondered if you’d like to
meet me for a quick drink or dinner this evening. I’d like to discuss my
daughter’s lessons.”
Yes! Layne’s heart swiftly answered before he pushed it aside.
“Well, uhm, Terry, usually I meet my student’s parents here at the
office.”
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“I understand, but it’s been a hell of a day and I don’t know when
I’ll get a chance to make an appointment.”
Damn, but the rough edge of impatience in that voice was
persuasive. “Sure, where would you like to meet?”
~*~*~*~
Remember. Layne told himself. Parent. Straight. Parent. Straight.
There was however a portion of his anatomy that didn’t quite get the
message, sitting up and taking notes as the handsome dark-haired man
spotted him sitting in the back of the quiet restaurant and grinned as if
there wasn’t anyone he’d rather see.
Layne tried to prepare for the impact but there was that same
dizzying sense of disorientation when their palms briefly met, lingered
and then parted. Once again he was looking over the edge of his known
world into undiscovered territory.
Worst of all was the fact he liked it.
A lot.
“Thanks for agreeing to meet me at such short notice. I hope I
didn’t interrupt any plans you had for the evening.”
If Layne didn’t know better he might have sworn that there was
just a hint of curiosity behind the innocent question. The time necessary
to get Terry seated and drinks and sandwiches ordered gave Layne a
chance to pull himself together. He was meeting one of his student’s
parents. Period.
“No, no plans.” Layne kept his tone light and professional. “What
can I help you with?”
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Hazel eyes flicked downwards, then upwards, then off to the side
and Layne watched as the tip of a moist tongue poked through the full
lips he shouldn’t be watching.
Was the man nervous?
And heaven help him, that tongue!
A surprisingly elegant hand ran roughly through the already
disarrayed hair. “I’m not exactly sure how to bring this up, and I feel like a
real ass, but life’s too short and all that stuff and the only way I’ll know is
to ask so…”
Layne watched as Terry took a deep breath.
“How hard would it be to find my daughter another music
instructor?”
“Oh.” Layne said softly as the earth rushed back up to meet him
with a thud at the unexpected words. “Not hard at all.” Why was it this
man could hurt his feelings so easily? Layne lowered his eyes to hide his
dismay.
“There are several good instructors in the area that I could
recommend.” Layne forced himself to swallow and continued without
meeting those hazel eyes that caused him so much distress. “I’m sorry to
hear that you aren’t happy with the work I’ve done for your daughter.”
“It’s not that, it’s…” That rich voice trailed off and both men sat
there silently for a moment, looking down at their plates.
“Oh hell, I’m making a real mess of things aren’t I? I usually do.”
Layne looked up at the self-depreciating humor evident in the
comment.
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“Let me be brutally honest here. The truth is I’m interested in you
and my ex isn’t happy with the thought of me dating our daughter’s
instructor.”
“Oh.” Suddenly Layne was dizzy again.
“Sorry.” Terry shook his head. “I meant to be a little smoother
about the whole thing.” He leaned forward across the table and ignoring
the crowd around them took Layne’s hand in his.
“I don’t know about you, but when I do this…” He jostled their
hands slightly. “…just touch your hand, I end up with the strangest
feeling.”
“And you can only imagine…” Layne began.
“…to wonder what it would be like.” Terry finished the sentence
and the two men just grinned at each other across the table, holding
hands until the waitress came by with another round and they were
forced to let go.
“Assuming I haven’t totally dicked this up and you are interested
as well, you can recommend someone else to teach her the squeezy
thing?” Terry was smiling now; that same wolfish smile that had caught
Layne’s attention the first night they’d met.
“Well, I hate to lose such a promising student.” Layne couldn’t
resist teasing the other man and he pretended to consider the matter
carefully; squirming a bit and ignoring that portion of his anatomy which
had now decided to try and wave the napkin in his lap as if it were a
white flag of surrender.
“I’ll make it up to you.” The hazel eyes narrowed a bit, the fierce
glance threatening Layne with all manner of wonderful retributions.
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~*~*~*~
So just that quickly there was magic and music in Layne’s life once
again and this time it was to be found in clear, hazel eyes.
And suddenly he could feel it again, the gentle sway, the rocking.
Layne wasn’t in the restaurant any longer; he was free floating above the
earth, feeling the heat, the cool rush of wind and the blanketing stillness
around him.
Undiscovered territory lay before him.
No longer a parent of one of his students. No longer apparently
straight. No longer married.
Three out of three. Not bad at all.
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