Mommy Loves the Rockstar

by Shanae Johnson

  “You got everything you need?” Kiara asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Your math book?”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  “English homework?”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  “Lunch?”

  “Mama, stop,” Camille groaned. “I have other things on my mind.”

  Other things? What else could a twelve-year-old be upset over? It couldn’t be boys. Dear God, please don’t let it be boys.

  “Mr. Cohen got hurt over the weekend,” Camille continued.

  Mr. Cohen? Oh, right. That was her chorus teacher. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know, but we had a sub yesterday. I don’t know what this will mean for the winter concert? I had a solo. They might cancel the show.”

  “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. I’m sure they’ll find a substitute.”

  “We’re still in the middle of rehearsals. Who could take over in the middle? It’s a disaster.” Camille tossed her head back against the headrest and huffed out a breath.

  Kiara knew her daughter loved singing. She wished there was something she could do to help. But she barely had the time to even remember the PTA meetings, let alone volunteering.

  The car pulled up in front of Kleckley Middle School, slowly rolling to a stop. Camille grabbed her bag and pushed opened the door but stopped as her coat was yanked on by Kiara. Camille turned around to her mom.

  “What?” Camille asked.

  “I just want to say I love you and have a good day,” Kiara said.

  Camille’s demeanor softened for the moment as she gave her mom a quick smile, mumbling, “I love you too.”

  It would do. Kiara watched her daughter run off and join her best friend Alison. She watched the girls walk into the school doors before a horn honked, urging her to move, and she pulled back into traffic.

  Kiara had only been home for a few hours to sleep. She’d gotten the call she needed to work a double at St. Judith’s Memorial Hospital as soon as she had woken up this morning. She couldn’t turn down the extra shift.

  Arriving back at the nurse’s station, Kiara yawned loudly. She’d need sleep at some point, but a snowstorm was rolling in that was expected to drop anywhere up to six feet on the area. She knew she’d likely be stuck at the hospital working extra hours on top of her double.

  “Girl, shut your mouth. You just got here.” Her coworker Xihara gave her a funny look. She stood in bright pink and leopard print scrubs with her hands on her hips.

  “I worked last night, too. This is my second shift,” Kiara told her as she began to look over the charts.

  Luckily for the past six months, she had been able to work on her favorite floor of the hospital. Labor and Delivery. She adored getting to be involved in the birth of a new life. It was her own birthing journey that had prompted her into this line of work.

  Even though Kiara had complained about being all over the place last night, she had loved every minute of it. From the new parents’ anxiety upon arrival to their trials during the labor to the joy after each delivery, Kiara simply couldn’t get enough of it.

  “It was a busy night,” Kiara said. “We had five babies born on my shift. I was all over the place.”

  “It’s going to be interesting with that storm rolling in.” Xihara checked the board to see where all their patients were in their birthing journey. “Where’s Camille staying?”

  “With my mom. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

  “Buckle up, it’s going to be a long shift, honey.” Xihara slapped her on the shoulder as she grabbed a chart and started toward a patient’s room.

  It would. But, despite her exhaustion, Kiara was looking forward to it. Besides, she needed the money. She had her own growing baby to provide for. She knew Camille wanted a new iPhone for the holidays. Working these extra shifts was the only way Kiara could hope to afford the device.

  So, Kiara gathered her hair up. She secured her thick tresses in a bun on top of her head. Then buckle in, she did.

  Chapter Three

  “You want me to take over Davis’ class?” Jett scratched at the back of his head as he looked at the gray-haired man sitting on the other side of the massive oak desk.

  Jett hadn’t spent much time in the principal’s office when he was in school. The place didn’t look intimidating, neither did the man. Principal Carpenter looked like Mr. Rogers did when he came in the door from a long day at work, before he put on his cardigan and sneakers. He even wore the same I’ve-Got-A-Surprise-For-You wide smile.

  Too bad that the words coming from that smile were preposterous. He wanted Jett to step in as a substitute while Davis was off his feet for the next six weeks.

  “It would only be for two weeks as we’re pushing up on the Winter Holidays,” Principal Carpenter clarified. “You’re the only person who could step in and do the job on short notice. Mr. Cohen said you play all musical instruments.”

  Jett nodded. He had a teacher eying him, waiting for his response. Of course, he told the truth. Teachers were on the same tier as pastors in his mother’s view.

  “You studied Vocal Performance in college.”

  Jett nodded again, even though that wasn’t a question. The principal had made a statement and Jett felt obliged to agree because it was the truth. “But I’ve never taught.”

  Principal Carpenter frowned. The rearrangement of the man’s facial features made Jett’s heart pound in alarm. He felt as though he’d been caught in a lie, but he was certain he told the truth.

  “Davis said you two taught together at a camp.”

  Again, not a question. Another statement of fact. Jett squirmed in his chair. He hadn’t lied. He’d just forgotten. “That was years ago, more than a decade.”

  Principal Carpenter nodded patiently. He steepled his fingers and rested his chin on his hands. Jett felt as though the neighborly man was about to make him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

  “The Kleckly Middle Winter Concert is in less than two weeks,” said Principal Carpenter. “I need someone who can put on a show. That’s your profession.”

  “True.” Jett stretched the monosyllabic word into two.

  “Well, Jett my boy, it was your actions that deprived me of a teacher.” Principal Carpenter spread his steepled hands as though to cast blame into the air. “You said so yourself.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “And you’re between gigs now.”

  Jett remained mute. Did the man make a statement he didn’t know the answer to? Still, how’d he known that about Jett?

  “I have daughters your age. Their favorite band was Boy Tide.” A sheepish grin spread across the older man’s face. “You owe me.”

  Jett winced. He remembered when he was younger looking out at the packed arenas. He knew all those seats weren’t filled by the young girls who screamed their lungs out at a Boy Tide concert. Nearly half of them had to be parents.

  “Two weeks of your time sounds sufficient to me. Think of it this way, you’ll be helping the less fortunate.”

  Jett’s wince turned into a frown. Kleckley Middle School was a public school, but St. Judith wasn’t a shabby neighborhood. He’d seen state of the art SMART boards in every room that could be seen on the cable news channels. Each kid had identical laptops that were likely school-issued, funded by the local government. No, these kids weren’t less fortunate.

  “It would also be great publicity.”

  That got Jett’s hackles up. He didn’t like being used. He set his mouth to firmly decline, but Principal Carpenter wasn’t done.

  “Great publicity for you in getting your next gig, but also great publicity for us. We’ll be sure to sell out of all of our tickets to fill the auditorium.”

  Jett knew a school auditorium couldn’t house more than a few hundred at most. The tickets couldn’t be more than ten dollars. He likely had that in cash in his wallet.

  Did they need so little? He could hand the money over and be done with this strange day. So
why was he holding his tongue?

  Maybe because just as much as he’d been looking forward to spending time with Davis and reminisce about the good old days, he’d started thinking back to their time in the church choir. Jett had been a bit of a teacher back then. He’d quickly risen through the ranks until he was the leader of his church choir. From there he’d chosen the songs they’d sang, arranged the music, and developed the entire program. Those experiences at a young age had been what inspired him to dedicate his life to music.

  Jett looked out the window and saw kids braving the frigid weather. They were huddled close together. He couldn’t hear them but by the way, one boy’s lips moved rapidly while other’s leaned in ear first, he knew the kid was singing or more likely rapping. He’d encountered a few kids in the hall singing. Jett had wanted to instruct them to reach for a different chord, but he’d refrained.

  He could have a whole choir of kids under his tutelage, just like the old days. It was just for two weeks. He could spare the time.

  Jett didn’t remember saying the words of agreement out loud. The next thing he knew, Principal Carpenter was pumping his hand. Then a lanyard was placed around his neck with a white card hanging at the end that Jett was told would allow him into and out of certain parts of the building. Then he was being led down the hall and deposited in the music room.

  The door shut behind him with a quiet snick. Jett turned to face a room full of expectant young gazes. He’d been on stages with hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of screaming fans. But standing and facing twenty-five young people who all sat quietly waiting for his instruction, Jett was at a loss for words. Well, he supposed he should start with the basics.

  “Hello. My name is Jett Anderson.”

  Jett took a moment to let that bit of news percolate around the room. He hadn’t had to have security for the last few years outside of concerts. In this room, he had nothing to worry about. Glassy eyes stared back at him. No one in the room knew who he was.

  “Okay.” Jett stepped up to the music stand. He didn’t pick up the baton sitting on the stand. He wasn’t ready for that yet. “I’m an old friend of Davis -I mean Mr. Cohen’s. I’m in the music industry, so I know a little bit about what I’m doing.”

  Still, not a peep. In fact, the kids looked less than impressed. A few looked worried.

  “How about you all show me what you have so far?”

  The kids looked to one another, but no one moved. Until a little girl with springy dark curls on her head and a spring in her step stood and began barking orders.

  “We’ll do the first measure of the hymn,” she said. “You guys ready? And a-one and a-two and…”

  The cacophony of sounds that came from the children wasn’t bad. It wasn’t as good as it could be either. Jett clearly saw a way through to get them all on pitch and maybe even raise the bar a bit.

  He went over to the piano. “Try this,” he said, playing a note and then singing the measure again.

  A few of the kids perked up at the display. The curly haired girl definitely looked impressed. Good. He’d gotten their attention.

  He led the group through a few measures of the song. A few of the voices shone through and Jett was already getting ideas of how to highlight them. He could hear how a few of the weaker voices could blend more smoothly.

  Jett frowned in annoyance when a buzzer rang from overhead interrupting their rehearsal. Without a word, the kids broke ranks and began to disperse. It took Jett a moment to realize it was the changing period's bell.

  A few of the kids waved as they filed out and different kids moved in. The curly haired girl hung back.

  “Good work today…” he waited for her to fill in her name.

  “Camille. You did good, too.”

  “Thanks.” For some reason, Jett felt absurdly proud of the praise from this girl who couldn’t yet be in her teens.

  “That was really good for a sub. Are you in the music business?”

  “I am. I’m a singer.”

  “Your voice sounded familiar. Wait, you said your name was Jett? Were you in a band? Boy Water or something?”

  “Something like that,” Jett grinned.

  She grinned right back, wider than she had before. “So, you’re gonna be here for a couple weeks, huh?”

  “Yeah. It looks that way.”

  “That’s great. That’s really great. I’ll see you around Mr. Anderson.”

  The little girl joined another girl outside the music room. They put their heads together, then looked back at him and giggled. That was familiar territory.

  Jett turned back to the new group, hoping he’d have the same luck with this bunch as he did with the last. He’d been here less than an hour and only one class, but he felt like he was waking from a long slumber. He marched back to the music stand and picked up the baton.

  “Good morning, class. My name is Mr. Anderson and I’ll be your music teacher for a couple of weeks. Let’s begin.”

  Chapter Four

  Kiara took hold of one of the blood pressure machines in one hand. She was about to grab a clipboard for her rounds with her free hand when her cell rang in her pocket. She’d forgotten to put it back on vibrate after dropping Camille off at school. Pulling it from her pocket she recognized the school’s number instantly, a feeling of anxiety filled her chest with dread.

  “Kiara Harper.”

  “Hi Kiara, it’s Natalie from the front office.”

  “Hey, Natalie.” The two women were on a first name basis what with how often Camille forgot things and Kiara had to drop them off to the main office. “Is everything okay?”

  “Camille came in after first-period because she forgot her lunch at home. She wanted to call you about it, but I told her I would instead.”

  Kiara rubbed her temple. Hadn’t she asked that child if she’d packed everything? And hadn’t that child said that she had. Her mom wasn’t available in the morning and there was no other way to get Camille lunch without going to her school.

  “Thanks, Natalie. I’m at work but I should be able to bring her something during my break.”

  She’d already come up with a solution to the problem. Being quick on her feet was something she had going for her. She never knew when something could come up. Plus, it wasn’t the first time Camille had left her lunch at home. Or her laptop. Or her homework. Or her house keys.

  That child!

  By the time Kiara was able to step out on her break, the first snow had begun to fall. She didn’t have time to make it home to grab Camille’s lunch box. Fortunately, the hospital cafeteria had a decent choice of sandwiches and she picked one up for Camille. At least she wouldn’t have to make lunch for tomorrow for the forgetful kid.

  Unfortunately for her, there was only a short window of time on her break to get to the school and then back to work. Tossing a handful of potato chips in her mouth, Kiara arrived at the middle school she’d once attended. Though years had passed, the place still looked the same. The large brick building had stood the test of time.

  Jogging up the steps of the school, Kiara entered the front doors. The hall was quiet since the class was in session. Though the decor was different, the place still smelled the same, and the horrible burnt orange laminate flooring was still an eyesore.

  Rounding the first corner, Kiara entered the front office where the receptionist was on a phone call. It must have been Natalie’s break. The short-haired blonde at the desk gave her a kind smile and mouthed that she would be with her in a moment, but after a few minutes of back and forth with the person on the other line she motioned Kiara over.

  “Camille’s mom, right?”

  Kiara nodded at the receptionist’s question.

  “She said she’d be in the music room. You can go straight there to drop off her lunch. This call is going to take me a little more time.”

  Kiara left the small office behind and strolled through the halls lined with tan lockers lost in fond memories. She paused at locker 432; her
s when she was a student. She smiled to herself before she heard the sudden eruption of singing coming from a classroom nearby.

  The voices of the students blended together beautifully. This group of singers sounded entirely in harmony, which she couldn’t say of previous choir performances. Those would be better compared to fingernails on a chalkboard. Being a supportive choir parent, she would typically just plaster on a fake smile as she suffered quietly at the choir concerts for Camille’s sake.

  Quietly, she entered the room. In front of her, there were about thirty middle school students singing at the direction of a man whose back was to her. It struck a chord in her memory somewhere that Camille had mentioned their choir teacher was out on leave, an injury or something.

  The students were obviously practicing for the winter concert as they sang a cool, newer, jazzy rendition of Silent Night.

  She liked it. It added something to the traditional song the parents heard every year. As the students finished, she saw Camille waving from the second row of kids. She’d thought Camille had chorus as her first-period class? Maybe this was extra practice during lunchtime?

  Camille never looked happy to see her mother at school. She’d usually groan and duck her head. But there was a goofy grin on the kid’s face at the moment.

  The new choir director turned around. And Kiara nearly lost her footing. Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her chest. She knew instantly who the new teacher was. She couldn’t believe her eyes and shook her head slightly as he began walking in her direction. His gray eyes met hers as he stopped, reaching out with his hand to shake hers.

  “Hey there. I’m Mr. Anderson. The substitute music teacher.”

  “Yeah, umm, Jett Anderson. Wow.” Her voice was airy, almost lost in shock as she stood there. “Big fan.” She appeared to have forgotten how to blink as her skin darkened slightly.

  He chuckled at her starstruck state and ran his fingers through his chestnut brown hair.