Page 118 of Strum Me

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Emily

I have the first night off in a long time, and can’t wait to sit in front of the TV with a pizza while Ben plays with Legos on the sofa. There’s one more week before his cast comes off, and I don’t know who’s looking forward to it more.

I kick off my shoes and settle back into my couch, lifting a piece of pizza off the box and letting the melted cheese fall into my mouth like a greasy, milky waterfall.

“Hmm, yum,” I moan, as Ben giggles and reaches for his own piece of pizza to do the same. I start to reprimand him before I realize I have no leg to stand on.

I’m happy to see him happy. There are moments when he still wakes up confused and calls for Brad, asking me to call him and just let him say good night. But I believe that going cold turkey is probably the best thing for Ben, to help him forget. As a child, I guess I assume that how he feels, recovers, and processes is different.

Or, I sure hope it is, because if he was feeling anything like the pain I am feeling, then I may never forgive myself.

Brad and I haven’t had any contact since that night texting.

Although it feels like we have, as each night I take out my phone and reread the old message over and over. Ones from the other night, ones from when we were on tour. The ones when it descended into sexting and I realized I wanted him more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

At least there is news of them as they travel the last legs of their tour. I try to remember my schedule with them and tune into their radio interviews and videos uploaded from their shows.

I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience sometimes when I see them walking as a group. I can see me, and even Bed following behind them. I can smell the leather from Brad’s jacket, hear Jez torturing Marius, Sebastian whispering to Cadence and making her laugh.

How quickly we became attached to them all. But life has gone on without us.

The heaviness descends, and I look over at Ben, struggling with one hand to cram the pizza into his mouth so he can go back to playing.

Then suddenly, there’s a familiar sound from the TV. And a familiar face.

I turn up the volume on the news just in time for Ben to look and squeal. “It’s Uncle Brad! And Uncle Marius and Uncle Sebastian and Uncle Jez!”

And it is. Wearing clown costumes and playing at a children’s ward at a local hospital.

I’m glued to the screen, as the footage cuts to them playing the opening to Debussy’s “Clair de Lune,” lulling the children into a blissful state before cutting to the Wiggles’ “Hot Potato.” The group of children crowd around them in an array of pajamas and hospital gowns and cheer and dance, while Cadence and Hailey make the movements for them to copy.

There’s so much joy that it palpitates off the screen.

The footage then cuts to a reporter pulling Brad aside to interview him.

“What do you think of these kids, huh?”

“They’re amazing, each and every one of them. We come here to get inspiration on how to live our lives, with commitment and gratitude and to be reminded to make each day, each moment count.”

“But there are so many places you guys could play and would be welcome, I bet.”

“Maybe, but because of a very special little boy, we were reminded that there’s a special place in our hearts for these kids.”

“Oooh, can we know who that is?”

“For sure, his name is Ben Butter. And he’s the bravest little boy you ever met. I hope he’s watching. Hey Benny Boy! We miss you so much and we hope to see you soon—without your cast. You better be eating your veggies!”

“I’m sure he is,” the reporter laughs.

Ben and I turn to each other, mouths open. His eyes light up with a thousand stars, just like his night light. And he jumps into my arms. Sobbing and laughing all at once.

My boy, my little boy, what have I done? I’m going to fix it. Mommy’s going to fix it.

***

BRRRRRINGGGGGGGGGGGG!