Meet Cate by Fiona Barnes Read Free Book Online

flipped the page to puppets.
    She wanted every precious child to be heard. Desperately.
    That was the mission of the charity: that each child had a strong voice. She and Alex wanted to guide children to be both heard and listened to. And if that wasn't happening from the adults in the child's life, the pair wanted to teach children how to listen to their voices for themselves. Cate never wanted a child to have to use so much strength surviving that they couldn't hear where they were going and what their heart said. It saddened her to know statistically just how much pain was in so many children's lives. Cate desperately hoped she was making a difference and setting a good example. If she could do it, anyone could was her motto.
    Next came Alex's part. Her heart was teaching the children how to hear what those voices were saying. The heart is loud when it wants to be, she was fond of saying. Sometimes it's a whisper, other times it's a growl−but it's always there.
    These were all mottos they'd kicked around when Cate, Alex and Nic had started the non-profit. Nic's interest veered to music, of course. He was a role-model, making time to visit with children and leave them with the focus that they could do anything, anytime, anywhere. And he often did. He'd bring a pile of guitars, a couple of amps, his mic and a keyboard. The children would bang and strum and talk. Anyone who was interested could tour his studio. He'd offer the older, more serious children an attempt at producing, and he always gave away tickets and back-stage passes.
    Nic's feeling was that people of all ages got so much out of music. He wanted them to be able to enjoy it as a life-long passion, the earlier the better. The three agreed that music healed and sought to introduce it both as inspiration and medication.
    Cate made a mental note to ask him for his donation: each year he sent hand-picked classic and bass guitars. Nic also liked to donate drum sticks and a bag full of merchandise: t-shirts, hats, pictures and music. Each piece was signed by every band member. Often, Nic would involve the band, who would then purchase instruments for local schools or younger people who needed financial assistance. Cate would do a piece on her show around Christmastime, loving the inspiring feeling that evolved. She'd encourage the audience to donate if they felt they could give a little. The total was often enough to help at least one more young student of music. Nic and his band would play, making the whole atmosphere festive and celebratory. Music did that, Cate felt.
    Alex texted back: Bet you're having fun.
    Cate smiled, her daughter knew her so well. Stretching languidly, she glanced back at her phone, vibrating an incoming call.
    It was Tom.

Chapter Twenty
    What , she stifled the urge to spit out.
    Instead she answered, "Hello?" Cate needed to be firm in order to protect herself from whatever was coming. She glanced down at her catalogs, the peaceful morning shattered.
    "Hello." Tom sounded gruff.
    Cate waited. Questions flashed through her mind: Where are you? What do you want? Why are you calling me? but she kept still.
    "How are the kids?" he asked finally.
    "They're fine," Cate answered calmly. She pursed her lips and drew in a breath, letting it out quietly. What is it? What do you want?
    "I talked to Nic last night. Sounds like his tour is going well." Tom was uncomfortable. Cate could not risk trying to make him feel at ease, she'd only endanger her heart. She sat straight, her spine rebar.
    "As it always does." Cate bit her tongue. She wouldn't apologize for the retort.
    Tom ignored it. "I can't reach Alex," he said conversationally.
    "Is that why you called?"
    "Oh, no. I'm sure she'll call me back soon. She's very busy." Tom told Cate all of these facts as if he were catching her up on his children. His disease tended to forget the very important link she had to them. When Cate didn't answer, he finished, "I just wanted to check in."
    "Where are you,