im. "Are you okay
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He nodded, still not quite trusting himself to speak.
"He's good," he said at last, barking the words out. "He's good."
"Yes." She nodded. "That's why he wants to go to Juilliard." She was still clapping, and when Paul looked in their direction she blew him a kiss. "Wouldn't that be wonderful, if it could happen? He has a few years left to practice still, and if he gives it everything he has—who knows ?"
Paul bowed, left the stage with his guitar. The applause swelled high.
"Everything he has?" David repeated. "What if it doesn't work out?"
"What if it does?"
"I don't know," David said slowly. "I just think he's too young to shut doors." 't
"He's so talented
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"But he's only thirteen."
"Yes, and he loves music. He says he's most alive when he's playing the guitar."
"But—it's such an unpredictable life. Can he make a living?"
Norah's face was very serious. She shook her head. "I don't know. But what's that old saying? Do what you love
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"I won't," David said. "But I worry. I want him to be secure in life. And Juilliard is a long shot, no matter how good he is. I don't want Paul to get hurt."
Norah opened her mouth to speak, bu
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