Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
WYL
I knew Rod could explain the assignment so that I would understand.
Besides, I needed a reason to spend time with him.
He's a “good friend” kind of guy. And as Walt pointed out, I needed a good friend. But I needed to find out more about him. He probably enjoyed a whole circle of friends with whom he and his wife hung out. His bare ring finger may be a sign, but not every married man wears a ring. A single, handsome, outgoing man like Rod must enjoy a special person in his life. If not a gal, a man? I frowned. Rod deserved happiness, but I wouldn’t mind a turn at being his plus one.
The entry door down the hall opened. I shook those thoughts and shoved the music textbook into my satchel. I stood, eager for my second meeting with the handsome professor as he strolled toward me. “Morning, Rod.”
“Morning, Wyl." He set his briefcase on a chair and offered his hand. " You’re here early.”
His warm, friendly shake sent chills up my arm despite the warm late August morning. “So are you.” I grinned from the sensations Rod's touch gave me and from my obvious point.
“I like getting started before the campus gets too busy.”
I nodded. “In the Marine Corps, nobody sleeps late, and now I can’t break the habit of rising early.”
He picked up his briefcase and motioned toward the hallway. “Head into the break room. I’ll toss my things in my office.”
I picked up my satchel and followed him. And I didn't admire his ass. Nope. Not more than twice, anyway. Okay, three times. “I hope this isn’t too early. You may want quiet time before a pesky older student shows up to bother you.”
Rod faced me at his office door. “Bother me? I’m always here early, and while I make good use of the quiet time, I’m always happy to help a student.
Most students struggle to make it to the 8:00 class, so we’ve got the place to ourselves.
Besides,” he turned to put his things in his office, still talking to me.
“It’s refreshing to chat with someone who doesn’t start or end every sentence with like… you know.” Rod grinned.
I nodded. “Like…I totally get it…like…you know?” My lower lip wedged between my teeth to keep from laughing.
Rod frowned for about half a second, shook his head, and chuckled through a smile. “Okay, smart-ass.” He thumbed across the hall. “Like…see if you can…like…find the break room.”
I boxed his shoulder and realized I shouldn’t hit the professor.
“Ow…” He grabbed his shoulder. “Beating up the teacher earns an automatic F in the course.”
I stared at him, but he couldn’t keep a straight face either. Two can play the game. “Getting an F means I'll drop out of college, and that’s too bad because I started enjoying my music course.” I swear panic flashed through his eyes before he put on an evil grin.
“What do you think your brother would say about you dropping out?” Rod placed a hand on my shoulder. “Should I call him for you?”
I shook my head. “Uh…no.” Despite my uncertainty about the whole college thing, disappointing Walt was the last thing I wanted to do. I did like Rod to keep touching me, though.
Rod grinned. “That’s what I thought.” He released my shoulder and pointed to the break room. “I’m better company after coffee. Shall we?”
I found it odd to be so at ease with this man. After a quarter century of not trusting anyone, he put me at ease. But I needed to stop thinking of him as sexy. He had better things to do than hang around with an uneducated rancher.
He started the coffee. “So…what did you want to ask me?”
The question caught me by surprise. “Ask you?”
Rod glanced in my direction. “Yes…in your email, you said you had questions about the lesson.”
“Oh…yes.” I tried to mask my heated face. “Us older students. Forgetful and all.” I cleared my throat. “I read about the three techniques of listening in the textbook, but I’m not quite sure I understand. Can you explain that to an older student in words he can understand?”
Rod shook his head. “I sense my being older comment will haunt me all semester, thanks to one of my non-traditional students.”
I raised an eyebrow. “How many total class periods do we have?”
Rod glanced at the ceiling, tapping his fingers. I assumed he counted.
“About thirty, give or take. And I’m betting you'll mention older students as many times.”
“Nah…I may need to miss a class or two, so only twenty-eight.”
“Since you’ll miss class a lot,” Rod patted the table. “I guess we’ll meet for coffee at least once a week so you can keep up.” He stood to fill coffee mugs and handed one to me. He sat and took a sip.
I grinned and shook my head. “Nah…although meeting you for coffee sounds like a good idea. But, back to my question.”
“Right. The three techniques of listening.” Rod set his mug on the table.
“They represent the impact of music on each individual. The first technique indicates the physical impact. Does the music give you chills, or do you tap your foot to the beat? The second technique indicates the emotional impact. Does the music make you happy or sad? Do memories of a past event, joyful or sorrowful, come rushing back? The third technique indicates the sheer musical impact on us. What sticks out in the music? Is the beat more prominent? Does one instrument catch your ear more than others? What makes this piece of music interesting to you?”
“What about words? A lot of people sing along when hearing a song. Should the words be another technique?” My teen years happened decades ago, but I thought young people today sang along with songs they liked. I sing to myself when alone in the truck.
“Ah, yes. Interesting question. Words are more about the message than the music. The same words fit with many different styles and types of music. The same song is often sung by many different artists. Although each voice is unique, the message conveyed by the words remains the same.”
I nodded. “Okay…I understand the reasoning behind the three techniques and why the words aren’t a fourth technique. So, applying the techniques will help me realize why I like a particular song.”
“You got it.” Rod sat forward. “Music can make people want to dance or make them melancholy as they think of a loved one. But they don’t try to understand why. People hear music, but are they truly listening? Learning how to listen to music brings it new meaning.”
I couldn’t help the grin on my face. I read that part of the lesson at least five times and didn’t get that from it at all.
The handsome, sexy guy sitting across from me impressed me with his brilliance.
Too bad I hid my gay side. Shit, I need to be honest with myself.
Someday. “Your explanation helps a lot.”
Rod motioned toward the door. “Let’s go to my office, where we can be comfortable.”
I followed him into his office. He sat at his desk, and I settled into one of the two empty guest chairs.
“So, Wyl, are you a musician?” Rod leaned forward, forearms on his desk. “Do you play an instrument?”
“I learned to play guitar as a teen. Lots of high school kids envision themselves as rock stars. I never strived for rock stardom, but Cowboys play guitar. I thought it would be a cool thing to do.”
“So, a bit like Gene Autry?” Rod raised a brow.
“Gene, who?” I idolized the famous singing cowboy legend, but figured I would do more leg-pulling. I bit my bottom lip.
Rod puzzled for a second before pointing at me as his face broke into a smile. “The bottom lip thing is a dead giveaway, Marine. How did you ever play poker?”
I shook my head. “I’m not much of a poker player. In fact, I’m not much of a gambler. But back to Gene Autry, yes, I know of him. I don’t sing, at least not around anyone else. I like the mellow sound of a guitar. My six-string traveled with me all over the world. Playing relaxes me.”
“Do you play by ear?”
“Nah…I use my fingers.” I held up my hand, wiggled my fingers, and grinned.
Rod did the chuckle-groan thing and shook his head. “That joke is older than dirt.”
“I never learned to read music. I play what I hear, or I make something up.”
“Musical notation is like any language. Musicians learn to read music literally. The notes on the page translate into tones in their head. But reading music is unimportant as long as you enjoy playing.” Rod took a sip.
“I find it interesting coming from you. I expected you to be a purist, but you help students appreciate music.”
“Wyl, music is second nature to me. But whether my students like or appreciate classical music is not important. And not everyone wants to play an instrument. But if students figure out why they like what they like, I provided an insight they missed.”
The more I hung out with this guy, the more I liked him. I still drew a blank on his relationship status, but it didn’t matter. I kept relationships off my list, no matter how handsome he was. “You are one of a kind, Rod. And you have things to do, so I’ll head to the classroom.”
* * *
As class time rolled around, I sat at my back corner desk. Other students filed in, but several desks remained empty. The second class period of the semester, and students couldn’t drag their lazy butts out of bed on time.
During class, Rod discussed the next section of the textbook and played recordings of several musical examples.
He explained things in a way that made music so fascinating.
Before I signed up for this course, I mulled over three options for my Fine Arts elective: art, drama, or music.
I couldn't draw a decent stick figure, so no Art.
I never attended stage plays, so no Drama.
I did have a little background in music with my guitar, but I figured the course would be over my head.
Wrong. Of course, finding the professor attractive increased my enthusiasm for attending class.
Hmph. What did I tell myself about not getting into a relationship?
“Class, next Friday night is the Big Spring Symphony Labor Day concert,” Rod said.
“This is a fantastic opportunity to attend a live performance. If you want to go, give me your name after class.” As students rose to leave, Rod reminded us of the assignments and quizzes available on the course website.
Hmmm. An orchestra concert. I never attended one, and traveling with a group of students might allow me to get to know a few of them.
To my surprise, I stood before him alone after class.
“The orchestra performance in Big Spring sounds interesting.” I let my satchel fall to the floor and tossed my hat on a nearby desk. “I never attended a symphony concert.”
Rod stared at me like I had admitted to being from an alien world. “You traveled the world with the Marines and never attended a performance?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t venture out much.”
“You’ll enjoy the orchestra, Wyl.” Rod glanced around the empty classroom. “Since you’re the only student, we’ll take my truck and leave early enough to grab a bite before the concert. How does that sound?”
Dinner? With Rod? That’s an excellent first step to inviting him to the ranch for steaks. “Food beforehand sounds terrific.”
“Great. Meet me at the parking pavilion at 5:00 next Friday evening. I drive a dark gray Toyota pickup. The concert starts at 7:30. We’ll be back by 10:30 if you need to tell anyone at home.”
I couldn’t stop grinning. Dinner and a concert. It's almost like a date. A date I didn’t want, but did I? What was wrong with me? Danger! Danger, Wyl Sterling! I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “Walt and I are alone at the ranch, and he doesn’t monitor my hours.”
“I’m glad we don’t need to hurry.” Rod smiled back at me. “You’ll find the concert interesting, and we’ll have the ride home to cover any questions.”
“I’m looking forward to it. But I’ll be in class on Monday.” I flashed another smile and left the classroom. The butterflies in my stomach surprised me, but I found the guy attractive. On the trip to Big Spring, I would find out his family status. Not that I wanted a relationship, but still…