Playing by Ear (Country Roads #1) - Chapter 35

By Friday, I was starting to get concerned about Rhonda despite what I’d said to Hanna. She hadn’t been to school the rest of the week and I’d started hearing rumors that she was changing schools. I may have been pissed at her, but this had all gone way too far.

What’s worse, her friends had abandoned her instantly. I’d seen Camilla sitting with Aaron’s friends a couple of times, and could only imagine how she’d played into the whole thing, but had no doubt she’d found a way to help take Rhonda down and become queen of their little group.

My schedule was too tight on Friday, but I’d convinced a very skeptical Hanna to give me a ride to Rhonda’s house Saturday morning and wait outside for me. To say Hanna hadn’t been on board would have been an understatement, since she thought I was going to do something stupid, like trying to get back together with her.

I honestly wasn’t sure what Hanna wanted from me either. One day she tells me I should have more sympathy for Rhonda when her bad choices come back home and the next she’s saying I’m making a mistake by trying to help Rhonda.

“Is Rhonda here?” I asked when her mother answered the door.

We’d seen each other in passing a couple of times when I’d picked Rhonda up or dropped her off, but we hadn’t actually spoken until now.

“I don’t think she wants to see you.”

“I get that, but she’s had it tough and I got the impression no one from school was talking to her, and I thought she could use a friend. I promise I’m not here to cause problems.”

Her mom looked at me hard, probably trying to figure out if it was worth chancing it, before stepping back and letting me in.

“Wait down here; let me see if she’ll see you.”

I nodded and waited, looking around. Even after dating Rhonda for a couple of months, I’d never been in her house. It was nice without too much stuff scattered around. Not quite minimalist, but very well put together. I didn’t actually know much about her parents and didn’t know if her mom worked or stayed home, but the house was really tidy.

I didn’t wander, just turning around, looking this way and that. After a couple of minutes, Rhonda’s mother came back downstairs.

“You can go up and talk to her, first room on the left. Please leave the door open.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thanks.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, crossing her arms and watching me walk up the stairs.

I clearly didn’t have a fan and was just glad she hadn’t booted me out. Rhonda’s room was pink. Very pink, with a bed against one wall, next to a window, and a little white desk against the opposite wall. At first, I thought maybe I’d made the wrong turn, since I didn’t see anyone, until I noticed Rhonda in bed, her covers pulled up over her until just a little bit of her head showed, barely exposing her eyes.

“Come to gloat?” she said from under her covers.

“Rhonda, you know me better than that. I came to see if you were okay.”

“I’m not okay. Did you see those pictures? Everyone’s seen them. It’s awful.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry. Has your mom talked to the school? You’re a minor, so maybe you can get them back?”

I pulled out the chair at her desk and turned it around, so I could sit facing her.

“She has, and Aaron was suspended. They can’t do more, because they can’t prove he’s where they got it, but he mouthed off when the vice-principle asked him about it. Or at least that’s what I heard. They’ve gotten them deleted out of the school email system and chat group, and warned anyone caught with them they’ll call the police if they see the pictures, but people still have them.”

“Are you sure they do?”

“Yes. Camilla said everyone printed them out and is handing them around.”

“Is there a chance Camilla’s just trying to take advantage of the situation? She’s managed to make herself head of your little group, and I saw her with some of Aaron’s crew yesterday. It seems just like her. Besides, I haven’t seen anyone passing around pictures.”

“Maybe, but you wouldn’t see them, would you? It’s not like they’d show you.”

“Think about it. The school made a big deal of getting those pictures wiped off of their servers and even contacted the chat boards to have them delete them too and then sent a message to every student warning about what would happen if they were caught with them. Not even Aaron is dumb enough to miss that. Do you think they’d then start printing out copies and carrying them around school? They’re cruel, but they’re not stupid.”

“I guess,” she said, then paused. “I’m so stupid.”

“Yeah, but that’s what high school is for, right? You’re not the first person to have pictures they didn’t want show up, and they lived. A few months and someone else will do something dumb and they’ll be onto that.”

“I don’t know.”

“I do. Is anyone talking about Hanna’s pictures? They weren’t that much different than the ones of you. It’ll go away.”

“Why did I let him take those pictures? Why did I even get with him at all?”

“Do you really want the answer to that question?”

“No … yes.”

“You wanted to be popular. The entire time we were together, it’s all you really wanted. It’s why I was surprised you agreed to go out with me, since my problems with Aaron guaranteed I’d never be popular. I think it might be the only thing you really wanted.”

“Doesn’t everyone want to be popular?”

“Sure, but it’s what they’re willing to do to get it. I’m sure there are people who get popular while being friends with everyone, but that’s hard. I wouldn’t have a clue how to go about it. It’s easier to get it by knocking other people down. That’s how Aaron and his friends do it.”

“You really think I do that?”

“I do. You should think about how you and the rest of your friends acted. I listened to you. Every conversation was about ridiculing this person or talking about how that person was worthless. When Camilla told stories about whatever petty stuff she’d done that day, you’d all laugh. Rhonda, I care about you, so I want you to know that I’m not trying to make you feel bad, but I think it’s time someone told you the truth.”

“What’s the truth? That I’m shallow? That I only care what others think about me? If I’m so terrible, why’d you even go out with me?”

“Because there’s a great girl underneath that. When we were away from your friends, you were different. You have a good heart, if you can get past your need to make yourself better than everyone else.”

“How do I do that?”

“Get rid of those friendsof yours. You’ve seen what they really are. People like that are toxic and they bring out your worst parts.”

She didn’t respond right away, falling silent except for the occasional sniffle. I wasn’t sure if I should go or not, or if I’d helped at all. This might not have been the time to confront her with who she’d been, but she needed to hear it. If she just went back to being that shallow girl I’d met at the beginning of the year, she’d never get past this. Or, if she did, she’d just become an even worse version of herself.

I was about to get up and leave when she finally said, “Would you take me back?”

“No,” I said without hesitation.

She began to cry again, wracking sobs partially smothered by her blanket drowning out anything I would have said after that. I waited for her to get it out of her system. She had to know that was what I would say, and I think she was feeling sorry for herself now, more than anything.

“Rhonda,” I continued when she’d finally stopped crying. “I’m sorry that makes you feel bad, but I won’t take you back just to make you feel better. It hurt me. I’ve managed to get past being pissed at you but I won’t ever forget it. Any chance for us ended when you kissed him. I’ll still be your friend, if you want me to, but that’s all.”

“Please just leave,” she said, starting to cry again.

I got up and started to walk out before pausing at the door to her room, “Don’t let them win. You can either run away and let this take over your life, or you can come back and fight past it. Not running away might be harder, but I think it’s time you stopped trying to take the easy way to stuff. You’ll get more out of it, in the long run. And I meant what I said about being your friend. Just … think about it.”

It was Thanksgiving week, so school was out for the week, meaning there was no way to know what Rhonda would do, at least until school was back. I put Rhonda out of my mind for now. I’d done everything I could do, probably more than I should have done. My conscious was clear, whichever way she chose to go.

The restaurant was busy leading up to the holiday and Chef had me come back in the kitchen to help. While he was closed on Thanksgiving, he was still slammed with work. He sold orders for full thanksgiving meals with a turkey and all the sides that people could pick up before noon on Thanksgiving, and a lot of the town took him up on it.

By Wednesday, he had almost a hundred orders for full thanksgiving meals plus a bunch of smaller orders for various side dishes. He didn’t have time to teach me anything, which was probably best since I would go back to not being in the kitchen again as soon as the holiday was over, but there was still plenty for me to do.

Wednesday night a truck pulled in packed with supplies, including a mountain of turkeys. I’d always thought the walk-in cooler at the Blue Ridge was ridiculously large, but now it seemed almost too small. Both Hanna and I’d agreed to work through the night with him, since the turkeys would take most of the night to cook and be ready for the people to pick up.

Despite all the work we had to do, prepping vegetables, preparing pans of stuffing, and peeling potatoes so the kitchen crew could start knocking out sides in the morning, we had a blast. Chef had offered roast or smoked turkeys, and he’d turned the back area behind the restaurant into its own outdoor kitchen, even putting up a big tent to keep everything covered in case it rained.

Smoked turkeys had been his biggest item and accounted for more than two-thirds of the orders, which was good because the ovens couldn’t hold all that many. He’d rented in these huge smokers that could cook more than a dozen turkeys each, and had them trucked in early that morning. By midnight, the entire area smelled like mesquite. I’d foolishly thought that smoking the turkeys made it easy, since all we had to do was put them in and let them go, but there was a lot more work to do with them, and Chef left most of that to me. I had to regularly add wood from these giant piles he’d had delivered, so the smoke could stay even all night, as well as occasionally opening them up and basting them, to make sure the meat stayed moist. By the time the sun came up, smoke had permeated every bit of my clothes and hair, and I was fairly certain I’d smell like wood smoke for the rest of my life.

Hanna and Chef had created mounds of chopped onions and celery and carrots, dozens of trays of stuffing and yams, and what seemed like hundreds of peeled potatoes soaking in buckets of water.

“Good work, you two! Vinney and the rest should be here any time, and they’ll take over from here. I know you’re beat, but we’ll need you both back in about five hours. If you want, you can go up to my apartment and take a nap, and I’ll come get you when we need you to help pack everything up.”

“I should call my mom,” I said, groggily.

I’d had a good night, talking with Hanna and Chef, telling jokes and just messing around as much as we’d worked, but he was right, I was completely beat.

“I already talked to her. Both of your mothers will be here around one, and we’re all going to have Thanksgiving here, together. I made sure we made a little extra of everything for us to have once we’re all done.”

“Ohh, that’s cool,” I said.

I’d been smelling the turkeys smoking all night, and I couldn’t wait to eat one. Hanna and I trooped upstairs and I fell onto Chef’s couch. I think Hanna might have said something, but I didn’t hear it. I was fast asleep almost as soon as my head hit the couch cushion.

It seemed like I’d just closed my eyes when I felt someone pushing me hard, rocking me back and forth.

“What?” I managed to say, my brains till fogged.

“Chef called, said he needed us back downstairs.

“Gahh,” I said, as I turned to look at her only to catch a glimpse of the bright mid-day sun through the window.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing my wrists and pulling. “I’m tired too, but we’re almost done.”

“Fine … fine.”

Every part of me felt sour and all I really wanted to do was lay back down, but I got up and followed Hanna back downstairs. The kitchen was a madhouse when we walked inside.

We pitched in, helping to get stuff packed up. Chef had a whole list and set everyone up as an assembly line. It actually didn’t take as long as I thought it would and by ten, everything was packed and ready to be picked up. All that was left from there was handing them out to customers as they arrived, which let most of the kitchen staff go home for the day.

I was still really tired from the all-nighter, but we were having a blast. It actually felt good, putting all the craziness of the week before behind me, just spending time with friends. I finally stepped away when Mom walked through the front door.

“Hey,” I said, coming around the table where we'd had the last customer’s dishes set. I made it to the front door while she was still looking around.

“So this is where you’ve been spending all your time?” she asked as I came up to her.

“Yep, this is it. We’re almost done. Chef just went to call the people who haven’t made it to pick up their stuff.”

“It was nice of him to invite us to Thanksgiving. I don’t mind cooking it, but not having the cleanup is certainly nice.”

“I’m just glad you get a real day off.”

“Me too. I slept until an hour ago.”

“I’d give you the tour, but except for the main room here, everything else is a mess. That back yard, where I do all the exercises, is now filled with smokers and portable ovens.”

“That’s the stage? It’s … different to the places your dad played.”

“Yeah, it’s a lot more open. I like the vibe, really. I think it works because it was designed as a restaurant first, and they started doing the music later. I’m not sure it would work for any kind of rock, but for a more laid-back type of music, it’s perfect. In the long run, if I really do end up doing this, I’ll have to branch out, but it does make for a nice place to learn.”

“You must be Mrs. Nelson,” Chef said, coming back out from the kitchen. “We’re running a little behind, but we should be able to set up and start as soon as Ms. Phillips arrives.”

“What about the orders they haven’t picked up,” I asked.

“They’re all local, so Vinney agreed to drop them off on his way home.”

“That was nice of him,” Mom said.

“Mostly, it’s because he’s beat and he wants to go home, but yeah, Vinney's a good guy. Charlie, come help me set up the tables and bring out the food.”

One of the benefits of having Thanksgiving in an empty restaurant was lots of room and tables. We moved the tables we’d been using to hold customer orders roughly to the center of the dining room. There were only five of us, so it was probably more than we needed, but it worked. We then went and got the food we’d set aside earlier in the day, including one of the large smoked turkeys that my mouth had been watering over most of the night.

“Oh my gosh, look at that. It’s beautiful,” Ms. Philips, who’d come in while we were arranging tables, said. “It looks amazing Chef Tang.”

“We’ve talked about that, Jennifer. It’s just Chef, Jennifer. Chef Tang was my father.”

Ms. Phillips laughed at that for whatever reason, some adult inside joke anyone born in this century wouldn’t get.

“You can actually thank Charlie for this one. He cooked all the smoked Turkeys.”

“Cooking is a strong word for standing near giant smokers, coughing out lungs full of smoke, and occasionally throwing logs in them.”

“He did more than that. He’s just modest.”

“Charlie? Modest? That’s a first,” Hanna said and then dodged at the swipe I made at her.

“Settle down you two and let’s eat. Charlie, would you say grace?”

I looked at Mom and back at Chef, unsure. It wasn’t that I had a problem with saying grace. Although I considered myself a Christian, I didn’t really have any practice with the various rituals or traditions most people would recognize. We’d only been to church a few times in my life, since there wasn’t much of a chance on the road with Dad, and then here Mom was always working.

“I’ll do it, Chef,” Hanna said, seeing my discomfort.

At his nod, everyone lowered their heads.

“Bless this food we are about to eat and thank you for everything you’ve given us this year. We thank you for the friends you have brought into our lives and for our families and ask you to keep them safe, healthy, and happy. Please help us remember those who aren’t with us anymore, and give us the strength to do the things that we know we should do. Amen.”

“Very nice, dear,” Ms. Philips said.

“I would have gone with the old standby,” said Chef. “‘Good food, good meat, good God, let’s eat.’”

“Chef!” Ms. Philips said, tossing her napkin at him.

He just laughed and handed it back to her as we all began piling stacks of food on our plates. For the first little while, all you could hear was the sounds of eating as we began to fill our faces. The turkey was just as good as I wanted it to be, after smelling it all night. Eventually, we started small talk, about the restaurant, about Hanna and my school, and about our mothers’ work, until Mom decided the time for interrogation had begun.

“I’m curious, Chef. Do you make it a habit of quasi-adopting kids to work in your restaurant here?”

I tried to say something to excuse her, but Chef took it in stride.

“I do, actually. I’ve found, over the years, that there are good kids out there that are struggling and need a little help. That’s not a knock on their parents, mind you. Most of the time they have really solid families who are trying their best. It’s just that kids sometimes need more and when I grew up, we were big believers in the ‘it takes a village’ thoughts on raising children. Of course, I grew up in a small village in China next to a Buddhist temple, so the village was literally a village in my case. We might not have that nowadays, with everyone being so busy and not wanting to get involved with others, but I think that shouldn’t be the kids' fault.”

“Chef does really good work,” Ms. Philips said. “Last year, Hanna …”

“Mom,” Hanna warned.

“I’m not going to get into it, dear,” she said before turning back to Mom. “She had a rough year last year, around this time actually. She became really angry and withdrawn and I was at my wit’s end. Chef called me and said he wanted her to come work for him, and promised he could help her. When I tell you that she didn’t want to come work here, I don’t think I could do it justice. The yelling that happened, I almost just gave in. I called Chef and he came to our house and talked to her a little while, just the two of them. She came out and said okay, she’d go work for him. It took time, but after a few months I started seeing my little girl again, instead of the angry woman who’d been living with me. He really helped save my little girl.”

“Mom,” Hanna said, embraced this time, instead of admonishing.

“That’s really nice,” Mom said. “I’m happy for you.”

“I should thank you too, though. She was getting better and making real progress, but these last several months, since Charlie here has been spending time with her, it really brought her all the way back. She’s laughing and smiling again. You, young man, have been a godsend to this family, just like Chef Tang.”

“I’m the lucky one,” I said. “I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, ‘cause we moved around a lot. Because of her, I have friends and a social life. Even a best friend.”

Hanna whacked my foot on that last part. She was not a fan of the spotlight and didn’t like being the center of attention, to a fairly extreme degree. It’s why I found it weird that she used to be a cheerleader, since the girl I knew now wouldn’t be caught dead in the center of a football field while the stadium looked down on her.

“I don’t doubt Chef’s motives,” Mom said, not to be derailed. “I do appreciate everything he’s doing for Charlie; I just find it an unusual situation. I’m assuming all the young people working for you have similar stories. Traveling, like we did with Charlie’s father, we met a lot of people, and one of the things I learned over the years was that no one does anything without a reason of their own. People are inherently selfish, which is fine, as long as their reasons for doing things don’t cause problems for me and mine.”

“I’d like to say you’re being cynical,” Chef said, “but you’re right. The world is selfish and people do things for themselves before anyone else. I’ll be honest; I’m no different, since I do get something out of these kids. I’m never going to have kids of my own, Mrs. Nelson. I always wanted them, but that’s how life goes sometimes. I see kids hurting, needing help; all I want to do is fix them. It makes me feel like I’m doing something in this life. I’m not their parents, but I think of all of them as my kids. Sure, they work for me and I pay them, but that helps too. I know some people have whispered that I’m taking advantage of these kids to make money, but that’s not true. I’m not getting rich off of these kids. They learn skills and have a structure some of them need, and I pay better than most restaurants like this do. Hell, the only kid who actually made me more than they cost over the last few years is Charlie here. I’m still trying to find my footing with this and hope I’m giving him a fair take.”

“I don’t feel taken advantage of, Mom,” I said before she could reply. “I make more than most kids my age could ever dream of, and I’m getting experience that I absolutely couldn’t get anywhere else. I never thought I’d get to do this kind of thing, following my dream, and here I am every weekend, up on that stage.”

“Don’t worry, Charlie, I’m not accusing Chef of taking advantage of you. I’ve seen your paychecks before you started playing and I’ve seen what he pays you now, so I know that he’s more than fair. We just haven’t had the chance to speak about you, and I usually find that coming straight at concerns is the best way of finding out what someone’s real intentions are.”

“Well, I hope I’ve eased some of your concerns.”

“You have. Like Jennifer said about Hanna, Charlie has improved in a lot of things since coming here. I’m not sure what you did last week, but he was a wreck when I left for work and seemed much better afterward.”

The conversation became less inquisitional and more friendly after that as we ate our lunch. The food was all great, as expected, and everyone had a wonderful time. Mom and Hanna’s mom took turns telling embarrassing stories about the two of us, which we both weren’t thrilled about, and Chef talked about his first years in America and the culture shock of being in a new country.

After lunch, I wandered out to the porch while Mom, Ms. Philips, and Chef continued to chat inside. All Mom did most days was work, so I didn’t begrudge her some social time with other grownups outside of her job.

I wasn’t surprised when Hanna followed me outside a few minutes later, sitting on the bench next to me, pulling her feet under her and looking out over the trees towards the highway. She leaned up against me and rested her head on my shoulder and we just sat there for a long while, not saying anything. I was full and content and just enjoying the comfortable silence.

“I was raped,” Hanna said, breaking the silence and my contentment.

“What? What?” I said, sitting up, causing her to almost slide over.

“Calm down,” she said, pulling me back against the bench and leaning against me again. “Last year. It’s the thing that happened that Mom was talking about.”

I didn’t reply at first. Instead, I went back over how she was when we first met, standoffish and angry, reevaluating our interactions.

“Is that why you didn’t want to go out with Marcus? I’m so sorry. Had I known, I wouldn’t have pushed you to go out with him.”

“Yes, but I’m glad you did. I was so mad, for almost a year. It was getting tiring being angry all the time, but I couldn’t find a way to stop. Mom tried. She sent me to people, but none of it helped. I think I was ready for a friend, but I’d worked so hard to push everyone away, that no one really tried. Even the people at school, Joanna, and the rest, I’d barely tolerated and had been kind of mean to for most of last year.”

“I guess I was in the right place and the right time.”

“You were. I haven’t said it before, but I wanted you to know I really appreciate it. I’m happier than I have been in a long time.”

“Good, although I think I’ve gotten the better deal out of our friendship.”

She snuggled up against me and we fell into silence again. I think she’d wanted to get it off her chest more than anything. I couldn’t imagine what it was like living with that kind of violation.

“It was Aaron, wasn’t it?” I asked, continuing to piece the new information into our past interactions.

“Yes. It was at the same party to celebrate the end of the football season where Rhonda broke up with you. I was still a cheerleader and went to all the parties back then. I was such an idiot.”

“Did you tell the police?”

“Not at first. I was too embarrassed and shocked and … I don’t know. Mom convinced me, so we went a few days later. It went nowhere. They took my report and said they’d look into it, but that’s it. Mom called and they said they’d done an investigation and cleared him.”

“How’d they clear him? What, he said he didn’t do it and they just left it at that.”

“Yes, but that wasn’t it. They said other kids at the party agreed I’d been pretty drunk and they had witnesses who said that I’d gone off with him willingly. They said I had probably been too drunk to remember agreeing to sleep with him.”

“Witnesses?”

“Karen Brooks. She told them I was all over him and I was the one to drag him upstairs.”

“Which explains why you hate her so much.”

“You know she used to be my best friend, back when I was on the squad. I couldn’t believe she did that to me. Yes, I was drunk, but I remember trying to say no. I wasn’t a fan of Aaron and had been dating a senior, but he’d pulled me upstairs. I was pretty wasted, so it wasn’t that hard. I was stupid and got drunk all the time back then, because everyone thought it was the cool thing to do, or whatever.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I mean, it isn’t. I still get so angry when I think about it, but I also get mad when I think about who I was back then. I wasn’t that much different to Rhonda, really. All I cared about was being popular. I was an idiot.”

“No, not an idiot. Who doesn’t want to be popular?”

“You don’t seem to care much about it.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but I also grew up with no friends my age and never in one place more than a month, so it’s not really a thing for me. Hell, I have more friends right now than I’ve ever had in my entire life, so it feels like I’m pretty popular anyway.”

“Just don't forget me when you’re a rock star, okay?”

“Never,” I said, putting my arm around her. “What would I do without my best friend?”