The Stars That Tremble (25 page)

Mike sounded so desolate. It was dry, in a way, a retelling of facts, no tears or obvious anguish, but Gio could sense the tension below the surface, all the tears Mike had already shed over Evan and this situation he’d been put in.

And here at last was Mike’s breaking point. Gio had marveled at how well Mike coped with everything, but here was his damage, his loss, his sob story. Here was the dark place in Mike’s heart, the place he retreated to when his life started becoming too good, his inner turmoil over falling in love again. Gio had wondered when they would tap into it, and it seemed that moment had arrived.

“I am so sorry,
caro
. I am devastated for you that you had to endure that.”

“I… thank you.”

“I suppose I cannot make the promise that history will not repeat itself, but for you,
per
il mio bell’uomo
, I would do nearly anything to ensure your happiness.”

Mike squeezed Gio’s shoulders. “Just keep… doing what you’re doing.”

“Is that all you need? Is there something I can do?”

“No.” Mike curled toward Gio. “This is something I have to work out for myself.”

“I will do whatever I can to take your pain away. Anything.”

“You already are.”

M
IKE
felt a little shell-shocked as he cooked eggs the next morning. He felt spent, both sexually and emotionally. There’d been a lot of satisfying lovemaking—which, despite his dislike of the term, was the best name for what they’d done early that morning, after Mike had cut his heart open for Gio to see—but Mike was still reeling from the nightmare and from talking to Gio about Evan, something he’d never really meant to do.

Evan’s death still hurt and probably always would. It wasn’t the raw pain of a recent cut, but it was like an old injury that ached when it rained—it was fine most of the time, but every now and then there was a tingle or a throb, a reminder of the wound. That was pretty much how Mike felt overall. He was fine, good, even, with a satisfying life and people who loved him, but that loss still struck him hard sometimes.

But it wasn’t all bad. He’d talked all of it through with Gio and had felt better for doing so afterward. Really, there wasn’t much to work out. He loved Gio and wanted to make this relationship work. If Gio was willing to do anything in his power to make Mike happy, Mike wanted to do the same.

Gio flipped through the
Times
he’d pilfered from Mike’s across-the-hall neighbors, whom Mike was pretty sure had gone out of town for the weekend, and periodically commented on a story he came across. Mike made him breakfast because there was something gratifying about doing so. He loved cooking for his lovers and didn’t get the chance to very often because he was so frequently trying to herd them out the door before Emma came home. But now that everything was out in the open and Emma seemed okay with it, he was content to let Gio stay as long as he pleased.

It was nice, the morning, and Gio smiled brightly as Mike slid a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. Mike took his own seat at the table and asked for the sports section.

“Yes, sports,” Gio said, his eyes narrowed as he handed over the paper. “There are balls and… sticks.”

“Why do you think I like sports?” Mike grinned.

Gio laughed.

Mike liked this easy camaraderie a great deal. It was fine that Gio read the arts section and Mike read the sports section. They could simply sit at the table together and enjoy each other’s company.

A moment later, there was a key in the lock. Emma came in with a commotion. She dropped her overnight bag, her keys, and her little purple purse on the sofa and then walked over to the table.

“Hi, Gio,” she said.

“Good morning,
cara
. How was your night?”

“Good. Isobel and I went to the movies last night and saw that new one about Catherine the Great. The story was kind of stupid, but the costumes were really pretty.”

Gio chuckled. “I feel that way about most of the Zeffirelli productions at the Met. Some operas have ridiculous plots, eh?”

“Yeah. I still don’t really get
Turandot
. No offense.”

“None taken. The plot is very strange.”

“You want some eggs, Em?” Mike asked.

“Okay.”

Gio and Emma chatted as Mike got up to make another plate. That was nice too. He happily pictured them forming a family of sorts. He felt a pang of jealousy that he’d never have the same cultural knowledge Gio did, that he and Emma would not have the same kinds of things in common. But then Emma climbed out of her chair, walked over to Mike, and wrapped her arms around him. She hugged him tight.

He ruffled her hair. “Thanks, sweetie. These will be ready in a couple of minutes. Go put your stuff away.”

“Okay. I love you, Daddy.”

Mike was a little embarrassed that he got a tiny bit choked up. “I love you too, kiddo.”

G
IO
braced himself and took a deep breath before walking into Howell’s office. He wished he had a good-luck token or at least something to squeeze; he often put one of those squishy stress balls in his pocket before he went to the doctor. He found himself thinking of Mike, wanting Mike nearby somewhere, but of course, he had to face the firing squad alone.

Because Gio was pretty sure he was about to lose a job that he liked a great deal.

He walked into the office and was greeted by a stern-looking Howell. “Have a seat, Gio.”

Gio sat, although it was hard to get comfortable.

“So, you probably know, we have a situation,” said Howell.

“Yes.”

Howell nodded. “I’d like to hear your side of it. I know you and I do not know each other that well, but it’s hard to deny that your presence on the faculty here lends a certain amount of prestige. And your colleagues all speak very highly of you. You’ve been accused of some terrible behaviors, and I… I want to take your side, Gio. I do. But I can’t just ignore these accusations.”

Gio nodded. “Tracy Quinlan.”

“You know I can’t confirm or deny that.”

“What are the accusations?”

Howell frowned. “The most mild is that you were receiving money and other favors to advance certain students in your opera workshop. That the favors you received led to your making specific recommendations to the Young Musicians Program audition committee.”

“That’s not true,” said Gio. He tried to keep his voice even. He cleared his throat. “You can speak to the committee. Except for Dacia, who I talk with all the time anyway, I never spoke to anyone on the committee about any students.”

Howell didn’t acknowledge that. “The other accusations are a lot more troubling than that. The worst is that you’re having an affair with one of your students, a Greg Thompson?”

It was a punch in the face, how surprising that was. “That is certainly not true. I have never behaved inappropriately with any of my students.”

“Not even Emma McPhee?”

“No, absolutely not.” Heat came to Gio’s face. He was angry now. It was one thing to imply Mike had used his sexuality to get Emma ahead, which was what Gio had expected. Gio’s guilt would have lain in accepting the favors. But to imply Gio had been involved with a student? “I would never get involved with a student, not in the way you’re implying. And there’s no impropriety here. I recused myself from the audition committee. Anyone in the department will tell you that Emma is a standout talent, very much deserving of a spot in the program.”

“Why did you recuse yourself?”

Perhaps “recuse” had been the wrong word to use. Still, Gio didn’t think his personal life was any of Howell’s business, but honesty was the only way to get out of this. “I’ve grown quite fond of Emma. As a teacher, not in an inappropriate way. I didn’t think I could be impartial.”

Howell leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. The furrow in his brow indicated to Gio that Howell was skeptical.

“And I’ve been… dating Emma’s father.”

Howell’s eyes went wide at that. “What?”

“We’ve been seeing each other all summer. Perhaps that’s frowned upon, and in retrospect, maybe it would have been better not to have gotten involved.”
Dio
, that was hard to say. And a lie, to boot; Gio couldn’t imagine not having gotten involved with Mike, nor did he want to contemplate that alternate universe. “There’s no policy against it, though, in my defense. And when it turned serious, I took myself off the Young Musicians Program admission committee to avoid any improprieties. Or, I was never on the committee, but Dacia wanted me. I told her no. I couldn’t do it.”

Howell shook his head. “You’re having an affair with Emma McPhee’s father.”

“Yes. Well, ‘affair’ sounds tawdry and scandalous. I’m in a relationship with him. And I’ll be perfectly upfront now, all right? Tracy Quinlan found out somehow and threatened me with that knowledge. She said she’d use my relationship against me if Amelia didn’t get into the YMP. It seems to me that is exactly what she is doing now.”

Howell frowned. “You should have come to me, Gio.”

“I didn’t think my personal life was a matter that the school needed to be concerned with.”

“No, you should have come to me when Mrs. Quinlan threatened you. If I had had some warning….” He looked down at his desk and flipped through some papers. “Look, she’s made a formal complaint. It’s a huge mess now, and I have to investigate. You’ve been accused of acting inappropriately with your students, and regardless of how ridiculous I find those charges, the school can’t be seen as a place that condones the abuse of children. The school administration is launching an investigation. That’s why I called you in to speak with you. If I had known, though….”

Gio sat, shocked, staring at the desk. Of all the things to have happened, this blindsided him. “She accused me of
abusing
students?”

“Greg Thompson is a minor. He was one of your students, yes?”

“Yes. He was in my opera workshop.”

“He’s on the list for one of the slots in the Young Musicians Program.”

“Mrs. Quinlan made accusations about Greg?”

Howell’s face softened. “If I had known, I could have put a stop to this before it got started. I’ll be honest with you. Mrs. Quinlan came in here during the auditions and gave me holy hell because you’d been allowed in the room downstairs at all. Said that you were accepting money and sexual favors to advance certain students. That she’d caught you in a compromising position with Mr. McPhee and that she’d heard you were also behaving inappropriately with his daughter. If what you say is true, that would probably be an easy matter to clear up. But she also implied that you’d been having a sexual relationship with this Greg Thompson and that you were advancing him into the program for that reason.”

“Oh, just because I’m gay, I must also be a pedophile.”

Howell sucked in a breath. “I didn’t say that, Gio. I like you. Your colleagues like you. I don’t want to believe this accusation—I don’t believe most of what you’ve been accused of, frankly—but I have to take it seriously. And Mrs. Quinlan went above my head to the administration, so now it’s a more serious issue. But I wish I could have headed her off at the pass.”

Gio took a few breaths, trying to calm down. His heart raced now, anxiety mounting as he tried to figure out the worst-case scenarios. “Emma and Greg are exceptional singers who deserve their spots in this program. Is the holdup in making final decisions because of me and this investigation?”

Howell nodded.

“They do not deserve a negative outcome because of a decision I made. I appreciate the position you’ve been put in, but I swear, Howell, I never touched those kids, nor did I recommend them to the audition committee. The only person I discussed those students with was Dacia, and that was because she was a guest teacher at a few of my classes and, well, we’re friends. I don’t think there’s anything inappropriate about that. But like I said, I took myself off the audition committee to avoid this very problem.” He let out a breath. “Greg might lose his spot too?”

“I honestly don’t know. But I’ve been forbidden to post the results of the auditions until after the administration concludes its inquiry.”

“What will that entail?”

“I imagine they will ask you and your workshop students questions, try to find out if there was any inappropriate behavior. Mr. McPhee may also be called in to testify.” Howell closed his eyes for a moment. “This is not the first time this has happened, unfortunately. Some parents are ruthless. One manufactured an affair between her daughter and one of the teachers. Produced all kinds of evidence. The teacher resigned before we could fire him, but then it turned out she’d made up the whole thing.”

“Did you hire him back?”

“He didn’t want to work for an institution that wouldn’t believe him. So that’s what I’m doing now, Gio. I want to believe you. I’ll back you up during the investigation. Losing you would be a great loss to the Olcott School.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“And I need you to be honest with me. Don’t withhold details that could come out later and embarrass both of us.”