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In the end, Joe had decided to keep his part-time job. He’d turned down the school’s offer of full-time employment; the money from playing with Dorothea was more than enough to support him on its own, and he knew he wouldn’t have the time and energy to work full time and be in the quartet. But he couldn’t imagine just leaving his class behind after everything.
Of course, out of all of them, it was Connie who stood out. He may no longer have believed in purpose in quite the same way, but he could see the trombone was her thing the same way the piano was his. That kind of passion for music was a thing to be nurtured, and he was determined to help.
Deep down though, part of him was a little worried about her. Her cynicism often reminded him of 22; the one time they had met, amidst his sojourn into the Great Before, the two had gotten on like a house on fire. But 22’s outlook had been a front for pent-up insecurity, and a part of him now wondered if Connie was in the same boat.
Either way, Joe wanted to do everything he could to help her improve. Which is why that day, right as his class was ending, he’d gently pulled her aside.
“Hey, Connie, can you stick around for a minute? I just want to have a quick chat.”
“Uh, sure Mr. Gardner,” she said with a hint of uncertainty, plopping back down into her hard plastic chair. He waited until the rest of the class had filed out, the kids muttering amongst themselves, then sat down on the chair beside her.
“I just wanted to say I’m really impressed with how you played today,” he said warmly, noticing her eyes light up with pride. “You were really jazzing, no matter what anyone else says.”
“Thanks.” She broke into a smile, relaxing back into her chair. He went on.
“Now, I know you don’t think much of the education system-”
“Neither do you,” she snorted, interrupting. He couldn’t help smiling at that, even if he knew it was 22’s words she was remembering.
“I know,” he acquiesced. “But seriously, you’ve got a real talent there. Have you ever considered asking your parents to get you proper lessons?”
Connie seemed to shut down in an instant. She looked down, expression twisting into a frown. She almost curled up, arms folding and feet rising off the floor as she pulled her legs in.
“No!” she almost shouted. “Of course I haven’t.” An uncomfortable feeling settled deep in Joe’s gut; he had touched a nerve; he was sure of that. Were her parents not supportive? He knew all too well how that could feel.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said gently, internally scrambling for the right thing to say. “Are your family not… happy that you’re doing this?” The hurt look faded from her face, replaced by a blank expression. She looked up slowly, meeting his gaze again, something unreadable glistening in her dark eyes.
“You don’t know, do you?” she asked quietly.
“Don’t know what?” he couldn’t help asking. Connie took a deep breath, looking away again.
“I thought all you teachers knew,” she said flatly. She was trying to hide it, but he could hear a lump form in her throat. “I don’t have parents.”
There was a moment of silence; Joe blanked on what to say, feeling his blood run cold. There could be no doubt about what she had said. His favourite student was all alone in the world.
A whole lot suddenly seemed to make sense; so that was what was hiding under the cynicism.
“I don’t know if they died,” she broke the silence suddenly, pain creeping into her voice, “or just didn’t want me, but I’ve been bouncing between stupid children’s homes all my life.”
“I had no idea,” Joe finally found the words, reaching out to place a hand gently on her shoulder, “I’m sorry, Connie.” She looked away, swallowing.
“Don’t be,” she said quietly, her words heavy with barely concealed pain. “It’s not like I care; I’m never going to know what I’m missing.” He couldn’t help feeling a surge of concern at just how resigned she sounded, how already she seemed to have accepted her fate. It reminded him of 22 all over again, and he felt a lump forming somewhere at the back of his own throat.
“Hey now,” he said softly, keeping his voice steady, “don’t say that. I’m sure you’ll find a family someday. It’s a big world out there.” He knew he’d said the wrong thing the moment the words left his mouth; Connie scrambled to her feet, shrugging his hand from her shoulder.
“Just shut up!” Her voice cracked. “You don’t know anything about it.”
She started walking, hurrying towards the class exit, running from her own hurt. He felt his heart break as she went, but he knew trying to stop her would only upset her more. She kept speaking, words spilling out before she could stop them. “I mean, it’s pointless; who would ever want to adopt me anyway?”
He could only watch her go, standing up slowly as her blue beanie dipped out of sight around the doorway. He felt terrible; all this time she had been hurting, and he’d had no idea. But as he stood there a new thought rose up in his mind, unbidden, and he found himself talking quietly to the empty air.
“I would.”
“Okay, something’s going on.”
“What do you mean?” Joe asked, leaning back in the barber’s chair. Dez stood over him, clippers in hand, mid-way through giving him a fresh trim.
Truth be told, Joe knew he was distracted. He couldn’t help thinking about his interaction with Connie, about what she had told him. It had awakened some irrational part of him, deep inside, that was desperate to help her. But he had no idea where to start.
The obvious answer would be to try and adopt her himself, but the moment he’d had that idea a dozen new uncertainties had reared their ugly heads. He didn’t know the first thing about parenting, he had no idea how the process worked, and at the crux of it all he wasn’t sure she would even want him. Connie clearly wasn’t happy with where she was, but would living with her music teacher be any better?
“I mean you ain’t said a single thing about jazz since you walked in here,” Dez chuckled, “or asked me about my life again. Which tells me there must be something else going on up in that brain of yours, man.” Joe sighed; was he being that obvious?
“Okay fine,” he admitted, a small smile on his face, “there’s this girl at work.”
“Ooh.” Dez grinned. “At the school? What’s she like?” Joe nearly jumped out of his seat at that. “Hey, hold still!”
“It’s not like that,” he quickly explained, “she’s one of my students, a girl with real talent, and I asked her if she’d ever considered taking one-on-one lessons.”
“And?”
“And it turns out she doesn’t have a family.” Joe heard the clippers stop, Dez freezing in surprise. “There’s nobody waiting at home for her; she’s a ward of the state. And she’s convinced herself that she’s never gonna get adopted.”
“Sheesh,” Dez observed. “That’s rough.” He leant in again with the clippers, expertise flowing from his fingertips. “But hey, at least she’s got you looking out for her.”
“I just keep thinking she deserves so much more,” Joe couldn’t help sighing, closing his eyes as trimmings fell down his face. “I just don’t know how to help her.”
“Sounds like you care an awful lot about her,” Dez noted, “almost like you wanna adopt this kid yourself, Joe.”
For a moment, Joe wasn’t sure what to say. He just listened to the buzz of the clippers and the hum of the barbershop, potential responses tumbling over themselves in his head. Because he knew Dez was right; he was just too uncertain to take that step.
“Okay, maybe I do,” he admitted, getting a chuckle from the barber. “But I don’t know the first thing about being a parent. It’s a whole other deal from being a teacher.”
“So, you can learn,” Dez cut in. “You’re already great with kids, and it sounds like you already know a lot about this girl especially. Maybe it’s not what you planned to do, but hey, sometimes life doesn’t work out how you expect. I should know.”
“I don’t know,” Joe couldn’t help countering. “What if she doesn’t want me to adopt her? What if she’s mad at me for even trying? The last thing I want’s to end up giving her false hope and making everything worse.”
But as the words left his mouth, he found his mind contradicting them. He thought back to his adventure in the Great Before, to how it had all ended. 22 had tried everything to push him away as a lost soul, but he’d pushed through it all because he knew she needed his help. And in an instant he knew, despite his uncertainties, that he would do the same for Connie.
“Take it from a guy with a daughter,” Dez said fondly, dragging Joe back from his thoughts. “If you care about her that much, Joe, then I know you’ll be the right person for her.”
“I guess you’re right,” Joe agreed, feeling a fresh surge of confidence. But it was still tinged with apprehension; he had no doubt the task ahead would be difficult. “But, I might need your help with a few things.”
“Say no more,” Dez chuckled. “Whatever you need man, I’ll help you get that kid a home. And hey, I bet everyone else will want to help too.”
A few things quickly spiralled into many. There were a dizzying number of requirements to adopt, Joe quickly learned, even if being a teacher waived a few of the less strict checks. The forms alone gave him plenty of sleepless nights, checking and re-checking everything to make sure it was perfect.
His mother found out quickly, of course; she was ecstatic, drafting in her colleagues when he needed assistance redecorating the apartment. It was plenty big enough for two, even with his piano and music equipment, but it had no ready accommodation for a child. Two weeks and a lot of flat pack furniture later the place passed inspection, and another hurdle was checked off.
Joe had kept an eye on Connie the entire time, making sure to offer praise and reassurance in their weekly lessons. He knew he was likely one of the few positive adults in her life. But he had made no mention of his plans; the last thing he wanted was to get her hopes up unfairly.
And so it was that after three months of paperwork and preparations, his friends helping every step of the way, Joe found himself sitting before a case worker. She was a younger-looking woman, with pale skin and sandy red hair that curled around her face. There was something about her, something he couldn’t quite place, that distinctly reminded him of the first Jerry he had met in the Great Before.
“You must be Mr. Gardner,” she greeted, a patient smile on her face. Joe did his best to swallow his uncertainties, meeting her gaze. There was trust in her dark eyes, mixed with a strange weariness.
“That’s me,” he said awkwardly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss…” he trailed off, glancing down at the name plate on her desk. “Roaninish?”
“Please, call me Deirdre,” the woman said kindly. “So, I hear you’re looking to adopt?”
“That I am.” He forced a smile.
“Well, all your approvals are in order.” She looked down at the finalised paperwork sitting between them, eyes darting across the rows of his neat handwriting. “I’m sure you’ll make a wonderful parent. We should be able to get you down to one of our homes within the next few days; introduce you to some of the kids.”
“Actually, Deirdre,” Joel found his voice, determination swelling. “There’s one child in particular I had in mind; see, I work as a music teacher down in Queens, and there’s this one girl in my Grade 6 class, named Connie, who I know is in your care right now.” She blinked, raising an eyebrow.
“I see,” she reached down, opening a drawer in her desk with a clunk. She rifled through it; Joe could hear files rustling under her fingers. Finally, she pulled one out, setting it down on the desk between them, on top of all the other paperwork. “Is this who you mean?”
She flipped open the cover; clipped to the top of the first form beneath was a photo of Connie, much younger than she was now but still definitely recognisable. The thing that stood out was her expression; a genuine grin overtook her face, wider than Joe was sure he had ever seen her smile in real life. What had happened to turn that kid into the sullen girl he cared about so much?
“That’s her,” he breathed. Deirdre nodded, a sad look overtaking her face.
“Constance was taken from her birth parents very young,” she explained. “She doesn’t remember them at all; it was a nasty case. She’s been in the system ever since.” She sighed, looking down over the folder. “The thing is, we’ve already tried to place her with a family, twice.”
“Oh no,” Joe couldn’t help saying. Things were starting to click into place; it was like the mentors all over again. “What happened?”
“Well, I can’t go into details,” she admitted, “though I’m sure Constance has her own stories. Sometimes placements just don’t work out; it’s an unfortunate thing, and unfairly rough on the child. But now I worry it’s become a cycle; she’s convinced herself it was all her own fault, and that she’ll never be adopted. Unfair as it is, that attitude’s off-putting for a lot of potential parents.”
There was clear regret in her voice. Joe felt his heart break for the girl, at just how unfair it all seemed. All his doubts seemed to fade away, the same determination that had carried him this far swelling again.
“Well, I want to change that,” he said firmly. “Everyone deserves a family, and Connie’s no exception, especially if it hasn’t worked out for her before.”
“You really do care about that girl, huh?”
“I can see who she really is,” he went on, “she’s a great musician and an amazing person, and she deserves so much more than what she has. I just want her to have a place to call home.” He couldn’t help sighing, feeling himself welling up just a little. “And, I’ll admit, she reminds me more than a little of an old friend; I’m sure I can help her.”
“Well, if you’re dead-set on this,” she smiled, but the sadness didn’t leave her eyes, “I could bypass the initial meetings and start making preparations for a placement.” She looked down again, opening another drawer on her desk. A moment of rummaging and she produced another form, pushing it towards him.
“Thank you,” he reached for a pen from the pot by her side, already decided, but she gave him a look that stopped him dead in his tracks.
“I’m putting a lot of trust in you, Mr. Gardner,” she said firmly, “I can’t put Constance through another failed placement.”
“This one won’t fail,” Joe assured her. He reached down, signing his name front-and-centre. “I promise.”
The children’s home was bigger than Joe had been expecting. It was nice enough, with colourful carpets and curtains, walls flanked by bookcases heavy with child-appropriate literature. He knew the people here were doing their best, trying to care for all the kids who had nobody else, but he couldn’t help thinking there was something a little impersonal about the place.
Deirdre met him at the door, leading him in past rooms full of younger children. He felt butterflies growing in his stomach the whole way, like he was about to play with Dorothea for the first time all over again. He was sure he wanted to do this, surer than he had ever been, but that didn’t make the nerves vanish entirely.
Reassuring words from everyone echoed through his mind as he followed towards the back of the home. He knew his mom and her co-workers were behind him; so was Dez; even Curly and the quartet were rooting for him. And above all that, somewhere ahead, though she didn’t know it yet, a little girl was counting on him to come through for her.
Finally, Deirdre stopped, right before a small wooden door at the end of the hallway. She raised one hand, tapping quickly on the door.
“Constance?” she said quietly. “I’ve got someone here I’d like you to meet; can we come in?” There was a moment of silence before a muffled voice replied, resigned, through the door.
“Ugh, fine!” Deirdre stepped aside, gesturing to the door. Joe stepped forwards, gently pushing it open.
Inside was a small bedroom, nice enough but plain, with dark blue bed covers the only splash of colour. Connie was sitting up on the bed, a copy of Nineteen Eighty-Four balanced spine-up on her knee. She didn’t look up; he could tell just by looking that she had already given up on this meeting before it had even begun.
“Let’s get this over with,” she said quietly, letting out a frustrated sigh. Joe took an uncertain step towards her, feeling care and concern rising in his chest.
“Hey, Connie.” Her gaze snapped up, eyes going wide and jaw falling open. She scooted back on the bed in surprise.
“Mr. Gardner?” she asked slowly, one eyebrow raised. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was quiet and uncertain, like she almost didn’t believe what she was seeing.
“I’m here to see you,” he said gently, sitting down on the end of the bed, afraid to get any closer. “Ever since you told me about all this,” he gestured wide, “about how you were living, I wanted to change things. Because you deserve so much more than what you have. I’m sorry it took me so long, but I’ve got everything ready; if you want, you can come live with me.”
He paused, waiting to see her reaction. And for a moment it looked like she believed him. But then he saw the doubts rising up again, the light fading in her eyes. She briskly turned away, arms wrapping around herself tightly.
“You don’t mean that,” she said quietly, voice quavering with emotion. “You don’t really want all this, all me. You just like me cause I’m good at trombone, a-and hate the stupid education system like you do.”
It felt like his heart was breaking all over again, seeing her like this. She shivered slightly, unable to keep more words from spilling out. “Quit lying! I’m sick of all this; when is everyone gonna realise I’m never going to find a home?!” He reached out, placing one hand gently on her shoulder, unable to stand by any longer.
“Hey, no,” he said softly, “that ain't true.” He didn’t have to think any longer, all his insecurities forgotten; it was like the words were coming directly from his soul. “Of course I like that you have a passion for music, cause I do too, but I know you’re so much more than that. You’re a whole person, Connie, and you deserve to be loved just as much as anyone else for that alone.”
Slowly, she turned back to look at him; he could see tears forming in her eyes, glistening in the light from the bedroom window. There and then he knew she desperately wanted to believe him, she just had to let herself.
“So maybe things haven’t worked out for you before,” he went on, unable to stop care from creeping into his voice. “Maybe it hasn’t been fair. But things can always change for the better. I’m not trying to be your new dad or anything, I’m just a guy who cares about you a whole lot, and wants you to have the life you deserve.”
Connie sniffled loudly, and then just broke. Tears started running freely down her face, sobs wracking her body. He reached out, gently pulling her into an embrace. She slumped against the front of his suit, overwhelmed by emotion.
“It’s okay,” he soothed, “shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you, Connie.”
“I just,” she stammered between sobs, “I just want to go home.” He tightened the embrace, feeling a faint stinging in his own eyes.
“Then let’s go home,” he said gently, “together.”
Finally, she pulled her face away from his chest, looking up. Her eyes, red and watery, met his own, and he could see a beautiful hope blooming in her gaze. For the first time in a long time, she thought things were going to be okay.
“You really mean that?” Her voice was small, hoarse from crying. He tightened the embrace.
“Of course I do.”
“Connie, would you mind sticking around for a minute? The rest of you can head off.”
“Sure,” Connie plopped back down into her seat, trombone case in hand. Joe watched as the rest of the class filed out of the music room, a few glancing back at the pair, then headed over to where she was sitting.
She broke into a warm smile. He couldn’t help returning it, feeling a surge of warmth at the thought that she was part of his family now. He wasn’t quite sure if he was her dad; they were still figuring that out, both unfamiliar with having a family like this, but right now it didn’t matter. There was a legal document, framed above his piano back in the apartment, proclaiming for all to see that she was ‘Constance Gardner’ now. And that was enough for the both of them.
“So,” he said fondly, reaching down to ruffle her hair under her beanie. “What do you think we should do for dinner tonight?”
“Hmm,” Connie pretended to ponder, getting slowly to her feet. “What is your position on pizza?” He stifled a chuckle at that.
“You know I like it.” He started walking towards the door, feeling her fall comfortably into step beside him.
“Pizza it is then,” she declared. He just nodded in agreement, feeling a swelling of warmth.
When Joe had set out to start really living, he had never expected adopting a child to be part of that. But out of everything he had done; becoming a teacher, playing alongside Dorothea Williams, nearly dying and impressing the universe itself into letting him live; giving Connie the family she desperately needed had to be one of his proudest moments. She had a home now, for the first time in her life, and things were good.