“I’m not waiting for someone to hold. I’m waiting for harmony.”

-Nathan Kincaid-

I found myself in the cafeteria for the third time that morning. Sadie was there, sitting by herself. I was going to leave her alone, but she found me across the room and smiled, so I went over to her. She has this smile that could mean either “I need help, come here,” or “you need help, come here”. This time it seemed to mean both. I sat across from her at the table, and for some reason her untouched cup of apple juice looked appetizing. Not because I like apple juice, or was even thirsty. When we were kids, I used to stare at different colored translucent things; Legos, art tools like compasses and protractors, ski goggles… I was doing it with that juice.

“What did his letter say?” Sadie asked.

I almost resented her asking. Staring at the juice gave me a break from thinking about Grandpa.

“It told me to sing.”

“It told you to sing? What do you mean? Like, what did it say?”

“Just that one word.”

“Hm.”

“He must think I’m a bad sketch artist.”

“No. That’s not it. He means something by it.”

It had to be a metaphor. No one who heard me sing wanted me to keep doing it. I was once told that my rapper name was Ton Def.

“If he wakes up, I’ll ask him.”

She was about to say that he wasn’t going to wake up, but she almost cried, so she just smiled, and we sat there quiet for a bit, then talked about Mitch and Maisie, but that made us more upset even than Grandpa’s coma, so we switched to small talk, then went back to quiet.

That’s when Danny and P.J. showed up. We both stood and hugged them, then sat down.

“You guys okay?” Asked P.J.

We both said ‘no’, in stereo.

“Of course you aren’t,” he said. “Is there anything we can do?”

I could tell Sadie was barely holding it together, and I thought she might be hungry. I know I was, so I asked if they minded getting us some food.

“Not at all,” said Danny, and he stood and went right to the buffet.

“I think he’s hungry,” P.J. said. “What do you want?”. He was looking at Sadie.

She shook her head, holding it in. “Anything.”

P.J. just smiled and squeezed her arm. Then he texted me from the buffet to ask me what we wanted. He said that Danny had loaded up a tray with hoagies, and all I said was that Sadie didn’t seem to mind their Chinese food. So they came back with a pile of ham sandwiches and a bowl of room temperature orange chicken.

P.J. took told us that it would be perfectly okay to cry in front of them. I envied Sadie for being able to. Danny pulled a handful of napkins out of the dispenser for her. She seemed to feel better afterward, and wolfed down half her food before I’d taken more than a couple bites of mine.

“You alright, bud?” Danny asked me.

I just nodded.

“Not like you don’t got enough on your plate already.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Oh,” he put his sandwich down, “Maisie dumped Mitch.”

I laughed.

Sadie chewed her last piece of chicken very slowly, nodding her head. Then she swallowed, wiped her mouth, blew her nose, took a sip of her juice, then nodded again.

“I figured that’s how it would go down,” said P.J.

“They had zero chemistry,” said Sadie.

Danny nodded, looking at me. My mind worked like a rolodex going through things to say, but I wasn’t in any shape to go into that, so I just agreed. P.J. gave me one of those looks that puts a person at ease more than any words can, and I went back to eating.

We sat there for a while, and honestly, I could have sat there with them forever. But after a bit they both started asking about our parents, so we bussed our table and went back to the room. Mom was a wreck. We both put our arms around her.

“Hey Mrs. Blake,” said Danny. “Hey John.”

“What’s up, Danny.”

Dad was in the far corner by aunt Karen. He came over and gave shook their hands.

“Thanks for coming, guys.”

Mom toned her crying down as much as she could before hugging them and thanking them for coming.

“How long are visiting hours?” P.J. asked.

“Till five,” said Dad.

“You guys are gonna be okay,” Danny said, looking from Dad to Mom, “no matter what happens. You’re my family too.”

They both smiled.

“Yeah, we are,” said Dad.

I looked at aunt Karen. She was staring at Grandpa and holding his hand. I went over to her and stood next to her, looking at Grandpa.

“You mom said he wrote you a letter.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have it?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I had to think. I remembered reading it, and I remember for once not wallowing in self-pity while riding somewhere in another person’s car.

“I think it’s at home.”

I didn’t say anything else, and neither did she. I kept standing there though. I figured I’d give Dad a break, and I got to be more or less alone for a bit. I was thinking about Maisie.

The first time I saw her was through the backstage curtain at Hale’s. She was setting up a drum kit, trying not to knock the cymbal stands over as she set them up. I could only see her one or two parts at a time, but every time I glimpsed her cleavage, or a bit of leg or midriff, I felt my heart skip. Then I saw her face and it was all over. And of course, she caught me looking at her, which could have made things awkward, but I saw it coming and was moving toward her when our eyes met.

“Do you want help?” I asked. She did.

I told her I’d roadied for my buddy Danny a thousand times, and that he had one of the most unnecessarily elaborate kits I’d ever seen, and that he exclusively booked gigs at venues with tiny stages.

“Well naturally,” she said.

She then told me how that night would be her last night setting up her now ‘ex’ boyfriend’s drums. I told her that it was his loss, and when she gave me a look like I was the sweetest guy ever for saying that and I totally made her day, I pointed to his hi-hat and said “You set hardware up perfectly.” For a split second she looked affronted, then we were both laughing.

Mom seemed to be feeling better after a bit. She was sitting on one of the couches lining the wall and relaying everything the doctors told us to P.J. Danny was keeping Sadie company, so I gave aunt Karen a quick side-hug and went over to Dad.

“I think he’ll be okay,” Dad said.

“Seven strokes is a lot,” was all I could come up with.

Dad put his hand on my shoulder. “He’s tough, son.”

We watched him for a bit, silently. The room quieted down and for a minute all we heard was Grandpa’s snoring. Then Dad laughed and told a story.

“When we first got married, I was desperate to get us a car, so I ended up buying a total lemon. Your grandpa told me to drive it to the dealer and insist on getting my money back or a different car. I asked him to come along in case I ended up needing a ride back. He said he’d come, but I’d have to do this myself. He’d just come from a lecture and was wearing his suit. Anyway, I couldn’t see ‘cos I was facing the dealership, but he was standing outside his car with his arms crossed the whole time. When the guy was counting out my money he said ‘You didn’t have to bring your lawyer’.”

Everyone had a chuckle, even Mom. I’d heard that story once or twice, but I was always hung up on not having a car, so I thought Dad was just trying to make me feel better by subtly reminding me that he didn’t either when he was younger. This time I was thinking about Grandpa, and I was happy Dad told it, because I finally got the point. Danny offered to run Sadie and I home in case we wanted to shower or get anything. I felt like I could use a shower and a book, so I took him up on the offer. P.J. stayed behind, telling ‘us kids’ to have fun.

It was on the verge of raining, and I walked a little fast to Danny’s car in spite of how tired I was. I didn’t mind getting rained on so much if it was already raining, but I hated being caught in it.

“I hope P.J. talks to Dad.” Sadie said. We had just gotten onto the freeway.

“He doesn’t talk to your dad?” Danny was genuinely surprised.

“He does,” she explained, “but not as much. He’s been nervous around Dad ever since he came out.”

“But your dad was the first person to say he was gay.”

“We all knew he was gay,” I said.

It was my favorite coming out story. He gathered the whole crew together and said ‘I need to be honest with you guys. All those nicknames you have for me, like Plow Job and Poo Jammer… well, they’re true.’. And I’ll never forget the look on his face when we all said ‘duh’. He was upset at first, that we called him those names because we knew, but then it hit him that we’d been treating him like one of the guys all along and he almost teared up. He laughed when I pointed t him and said “Hey, don’t be gay!”.

“Dad’s age group are the guys that used to bully him,” I said. “That’s why he hangs out with us and is nervous around Dad.”

“I wish Dad would do something to make him feel more comfortable,” Sadie said.

“He told him he doesn’t care.”

She shook her head. “Men.” Then she switched gears. “I wanna talk about Mitch and Maisie.”

On cue, it started to rain.

“Yeah,” Danny said. “Mitch came by last night, lookin’ all mopey. I asked him where she was and he told me they broke up. I think he wanted a shoulder to cry on, so I told him I needed to run back stage but I’d catch up with him later. You know, no offense, Sadie, but that guy doesn’t get it. You’re better off single than with someone like him.”

“I know,” she said. “So how do you know that she did the dumping.”

“Oh, she came by later, right when we started the set. She had her cousins with her and Mitch kept staring at her. P.J. told him it would probably be best if he left. And you know how P.J. can say stuff like that without it sounding mean. So Maisie hung out with us after and told me what happened.”

“What did she say?”

I was in the back seat, so I could see all their gestures and posture. I could tell from how low Sadie’s ears were that her brow was wrinkled up between her eyes and her mouth was bunched up like an anteater’s. And Danny did this thing where he lifted both hands like he was praying, and said “You know how loud it gets back there, Sadie. I just caught that she was the one to break it off.”

Sadie nodded. It was a pretty quiet drive after that. We pulled into our driveway and went inside. Danny was looking through one of my sketchbooks while we took turns showering. I was going to change my clothes, but I’d procrastinated with my laundry, as usual. Fortunately, I had clean boxers and socks, and a hoodie that always smelt like an art studio. I looked through my bookshelf, thinking I’d grab a go-to so I could have something light and familiar, but somehow, I felt rereading an old favorite would bring me down. I had a whole shelf set aside for what I called the ‘Wolfe pack’. It had the classic picks from Virginia, both of the Toms, and just about everything written by Gene. I went with Plath and Faulkner instead.

Sadie was taking a while, so I thumbed through The Bell Jar in the living room. Danny kept flipping through my sketchbook.

“I don’t think I’ve seen any of these,” he said.

“It’s new. The third one from the back is the drawing that got me fired from the lumber yard.”

He flipped to it and laughed. We briefly reminisced, recalling how the boss saw me doodling on what I thought was scrap, but was actually expensive, high-end product set aside for an order. I remembered feeling relieved when Danny told me he wasn’t upset, seeing as he’d gotten me the job. He’d landed a very solid session gig and had just put in his notice, so he was just worried about me. But I really couldn’t have cared less. After losing three jobs in a row, what difference would a fourth make?

“Would you mind if I kept this book to show to someone?”

I’d pretty much filled it up, so I didn’t mind. Besides, Danny was a rare breed, being young and fun, but strikingly responsible. Out of all my musician friends, he was one of the few that actually made money playing music. And before that, he was a skilled laborer and was smart with the money he made. The band he was currently in was paying him for use of the studio he bought and built, and when they’d had three drummers flake out on them, he stood in. I was there the first day he played with them. He was grinning like an idiot the whole set, and when they’d finished, he asked if they’d be willing to consider letting him their drummer. Best drummer in town, asking if they’d be willing to consider letting him join the band.

“Have you ever considered illustrating comic books?” he asked.

I shook my head. “The deadlines are crazy.”

“Well, I’d still like to show these sketches to someone. If that’s cool.”

“Sure.” I went back to reading.

It ended up being almost an hour before Sadie was ready. I could tell she’d been crying. I probably would have felt better if I’d let it out a little too, but for some reason I was afraid. We got cheeseburgers for Mom and Dad along the way, and a smoothie for aunt Karen. Mom and Dad ate quick, then decided to go back home to shower.

“Dad’s not the mushy type,” Mom said. But aunt Karen rolled her eyes and stayed put.

They stopped at the mall for flowers to put by Grandpa, got presents for all of us too. Mom bought me a small sketchbook at J.K. Gill’s, along with a box of 6Hs and a couple of pens. For Sadie they got a new mp3 player and nice, over-the-ear headphones. Mom also bought Danny a Neil Peart T-Shirt, and Dad made Sadie happy when he handed P.J. a gift-wrapped box. It was the new D&D rulebook and a very nice set of dice.

It was a big deal for both of them. They found a couch in the hall outside and even though Sadie didn’t play tabletops, she sat next to P.J. and they looked at the illustrations. Danny took a peek at the book too, then was comparing it to my sketches. A few minutes later I went to the bathroom and saw him in the hallway on his cell phone.

The nurse had a tough time herding us all put when five o’clock rolled around. Aunt Karen pretended the poor guy wasn’t even there, but he eventually got all of us out. Sadie, Danny and P.J. And I were in the ground floor lobby playing Black Jack when Mitch and Maisie showed up.