It was a month earlier when this all started. The Eggos had just popped out of the toaster.

“Nicky! Breakfast!”

Getting a kid ready to go to school in the morning is always pure chaos. There’s something about the early hours that makes a kid forget everything.  Getting dressed, brushing their teeth, and putting on shoes seem to be skills long forgotten or never learned. This is doubly true when there is a time crunch, as there was this day.

“Nicky, if you want waffles it’s now or never.”

It was then that Dan heard an out-of-tune strum on a guitar. He ran upstairs to investigate. There, in his room, he saw Nicky, fully dressed with an open guitar case staring at a vintage Gibson acoustic guitar. The sunburst finish seemed to glow as it reflected the bright morning light from Nicky’s window. Dan was surprised to find that his heart started to race. 

“Where’d you find that?”, asked Dan, even though he already knew.

“It was in your closet. Where’d you get it”

“It was your grandfather’s”

“I didn’t know Papa played guitar. I thought he just watched TV.”

“Wrong Grandpa”

“Oh.” Nicky obviously still didn’t understand, but thankfully moved on as kids are wont to do. “ When’d you get it?”

“It came in the mail a week ago.”

“Why haven’t you played it yet?”

“Because it’s been taking every bit of my mental energy trying to get a little boy to school on time. Do you want waffles or not?”

Nicky got up and ran towards the door, then stopped.

“Can I have extra syrup today”

“Get downstairs.”

As Nicky stomped down the stairs giving the impression that a six-hundred-pound Sasquatch lived in his house, Dan stared at the guitar a moment longer, his feet glued to the floor while the waffles grew cold. The mother-of-pearl floral inlay shone against the ebony fretboard, stark and beautiful. He stopped himself there was nothing to admire about this guitar or the person he associated with it.

He closed and latched the case and threw it back in his closet.

On the way to school. Nicky, took full advantage of the midwestern autumn to stomp on every leaf he could. He stopped to stare a particular leaf mixed in the orange and yellow leaves that fell from the elm tree above them. This leaf was a dark brown, almost black, and was smaller than the others.

“Woah, Dad. Check this leaf out.”

Dan took the leaf and examined it. “That is one black leaf. That’s pretty metal”

“What does that mean? It’s not metal. It’s a leaf.”

“Yeah, remind me to introduce you to an album called ‘Master of Puppets’ this afternoon after school.”

“Why’s it look so different?”

“It probably fell from a tree down the block and blew over here”

“Oh”

They kept walking towards the school.

“Dad.”

“What’s up?”

“When’d you get the guitar?”

The goddamned guitar again. Dan should’ve tossed it when the second it showed up in the mail.

“About a week ago, like I said.”

“Do you know how to play guitar?”

“A little. I used to be better, but it’s been a while since I picked one up.”

“Did your dad know how to play?”

“Yes. It was all he cared about.” Dan tried to keep the contempt out of his voice. He was sure he was failing. “He was an amazing guitar player.”

“Maybe he can teach me!”

“Unfortunately, He’s not around anymore, bud. Remember, we talked about it a few weeks ago.”

Nicky grabbed Dan’s hand, “I wished I could have met him.”

“Me too, buddy.

The guitar talk faded into Nicky musing about what he thought would be served for school lunch, and his thoughts on Ashley R’s new She-ra backpack. (He liked it but was afraid to say so because he thought She-ra was for girls.) Before Dan knew it, Nicky was running up the steps to the school and not looking back.

—

One of Dan’s earliest memories was of driving down I-80 towards his dad’s place. He could always tell that they were getting close when the oak trees that lined the road gave way to thick patches of pine and the scent of the air changed. As much as he could remember this ride was mostly silent. Even then, Dan and his father didn’t have much to say to each other.

“Dad, what is this band?”

D.J., as he was known then, held up a tape with an intriguing cover. A trio of what he assumed were musicians, two of which were in oddly colored suits, and the third, a shirtless man with angel wings flying out of a fan. 

D.J.’s dad perked up with excitement “That’s a band called Crowded House. They’re really cool.” He grabbed the tape from D.J. and put it in the car stereo.

They sat in silence again but this was not the normal, uncomfortable silence. . As the music washed over D.J. he noticed his father glanced over with a look of what he later learned was pride. 

—

“Dad. I’m hungry. Can I have a snack?”

Nick was sitting on the sofa, watching some awful show that was made specifically to entertain small children and annoy their parents.

Dan looked at the clock. It was coming up on six. He’d be starting dinner soon.

“Not right now, kiddo. Dinner is in a few minutes”

“What’s going to be for dinner?”

“Leftover Thai food”

“Aw, man. How about leftover pizza.”

“We don’t have any leftover pizza.”

Nicky groaned.

“Why not?”

“Because we didn’t order pizza last weekend.”

“Well, how about we order pizza now and then we can have it?”

“No dice, bud.”

“No what?”

No dice. It’s an expression. It means, well it just means no, I guess.”

“Oh.” For a moment it seemed that Nicky’s attention was going to go back to the grown man bouncing around what seemed to be a McDonalds play place. But then, he turned back to Dan.

“Where’d you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Nicky lowered his voice in order to do his best impression of Dan. “No Dice”  

“Um, my dad used to say it.”

“Cool. Can we see the guitar again?”

Dan sighed. There was really no getting around this. “Sure, bud. But, only for a few minutes.” I want to get dinner done before mom gets home.

“Yes!” Nicky hopped off of the couch and ran to the closet where it was kept, and dragged it out.

Dan turned the TV off and followed. Nicky was vibrating with excitement and literally climbing on Dan to get the best vantage. At one point Nicky had precariously balance the weight of his six-year-old body on the top of Dan’s head.

“Ok bud, I’m going to need you to turn it down a few notches and give me a little space.”

Nicky took a few deep breaths. (A calm down technique he’d learned from school, which Dan promptly stole for himself) climbed off of Dan, and took two deliberate steps backwards.

Dan laid the guitar case on the ground, noticing the dints and dings sprinkled all around it. This guitar case had been all over the country. It had spent time in the cargo hold of Greyhound busses, Amtrak trains, pick-up truck beds, and everything in between. Dan imagined it opened on the ground in some city center collecting wadded up bills and coins in its green velvet interior as his dad played a cover of ‘Into the Mystic’ or ‘Life on Mars’. When Dan was a child he liked to close his eyes and listen for his dad’s singing. Even though, he was never in the same state or city, Dan could swear if he listened hard enough the music would come to him, followed by his father.

He unlatched the case methodically. With each click of the metallic clasps, he swore he felt air escape as if the instrument were hermetically sealed with his father’s memories and mistakes locked in, waiting for Dan to let them out. With the case finally opened,  he picked the guitar. As he did so he noticed the stillness of the room. Nicky, normally charitably described as precocious was silent. Dan placed the guitar in lap, it’s metaphorical heaviness betrayed by the relitive lightness of its mahogany body resting on Dan’s knee. Dan took a breath. He almost put it back in the case then and there, but he looked and saw his own son staring in anticipation. He place his left hand on the the ebony fret board, contorted his hand into the shape of the c chord and strummed.

—

It was 1988. D.J. was sitting in the kitchen of his old house, eating a buttered tortilla when he heard a knock on the door. It wasn’t a normal knock. It was rhythmic, purposeful. He knew exactly who it was. He scarfed down he tortilla while his mom went to answer the door.

His mother’s normally boistress hello, was dry and forced.

“Hello, Danny”

“Eve, how ya doin?”

“Fine, thanks. You caught him in the middle of his after school snack.” Eve, turned her head toward the kitchen. “DJ!” She yelled. “Finish up and come on out here.”

Eve didn’t need to remind DJ to hurry up. He’d already finished and washed his hands. He stormed out of the kitchen and attacked his dad with kind of hug that only small children can give. They’re big enough put some power into the whole endeavor but not so big that they can knock a grown adult off of their feet.

“DJ! How ya doin’ little man?”

“I’m good! I just got a Nintendo. Do you want to see?”

“Of course I do.”

DJ took his father by the hand and led him to room where they kept the games and spent a few hours playing The Legend of Zelda. DJ thought his father took to video gaming pretty well for an adult. They’d even found a shard of the tri-force by the time that Eve called that dinner would be almost ready and that DJ’s step dad, Greg would be home soon.

Danny, stood up. “Welp, that’s my cue.” He stretched his legs and walked towards the door.

“Nu uh, I’m sure you can stay for dinner. My friend Roger does all the time”

“Sorry, bud. I’ve got to get to a gig.” It was then that DJ noticed the guitar case by the door.

“Can I come?”

“No, it’s no place for kids like you, maybe I have time to give you a private performance.”

Danny looked up at Eve who’d made her way into the corner of the room.  She nodded yes and Danny pulled out his guitar. I wrote this one for you bud. As he strummed out the first chord.

—

Nicky’s eyes were wide. “Whoa! Dad you’re really good.”

“Nah, I’m just ok.” Dan said to Nicky as he massaged his hand. It’d been years since he formed chords and his hand muscles reminded him of that fact.

“No, way dad. You like could play ANYTHING!”

As he said this Nicky ran into the other room. Something else clearly caught his attention and he’d moved on. Dan, was jealous. Little kids brains moved like a humming bird’s wings. So fast it was almost imperceptible. As they got older they seemed get more deliberate and contemplative. The wings slowed down. In his mid-thirties Dan’s brain wings seemed to have stopped altogether. He was now a flightless bird. His mind had too much weight to get off of the ground anymore. That’s why he found it curious that when he played the guitar, his mind wandered for the first time in a long time. Why’d it wander to that day, though? His mind must be pissed at being stuck in place to take him to the time when he last saw his father.

—

Days passed since Nicky had brought up the guitar, but now it occupied Dan’s mind incessantly. He drop Nicky at school, hop on the computer to get some work done, and then just find himself staring at the thing.

One day, while Nicky was gone he pulled the thing out of the case and glared at it as if a dirty look could send it and the memories it was bringing up out of his general vicinity.

—

It was his high school graduation party. The first class of the new millennium brought with it some high expectations from his family. Dan suspected that every graduating class ever felt this, but his was more special because he graduated in a year ending with two zeros. You are “special, special boy” was the refrain of the day. It was mostly said ironically, but not completely so.

After all of the glad handing with uncles and cousins the party was winding down. Dan (as he decreed he’d be called once he’d taking his step father’s last name in the forth grade) was taking a garbage bag filled with red solo cups and paper plates to the can when he saw it.

A large Fed Ex box leaned against the front porch. He pitched the garbage and went to investigate. After examining it, he brought it into the house where Eve saw it.

“Oh, another gift? We’re going to have to put you in a new tax bracket after this little shindig”

It was true that Dan had received many gifts that day but they mostly came in the form of checks inside of greeting cards. This was a big box. About four to five feet tall and about a foot and a half wide.

Eve left and returned with a box cutter. “Go on, open it.” She chided handing the knife to Dan.

Dan carefully cut the tape and opened the box to reveal a guitar case. He pulled it out and opened it to find a brand new Taylor guitar. There was a note tucked between the strings.

Dan read it aloud. “Hey bud, Congrats on the graduation. You’re one step up on your old man now”

Dan wadded the note up and stared at the guitar with the contempt that only a sullen teenager could drum up.  

Eve crouched down next to her son. “Your dad loves you, ya know. He just is –“

“Really bad a being a dad.” Dan interrupted.

“Yeah, but you’re ok. You did it. You’ve graduated high school. You’re going to college. You’re ok.”

“Thank god for you and Greg” Dan was trying not to cry.

“Listen to me.” Eve said as she turned her almost adult son around to face her. “Everything, that you’ve been through — that we’ve been through made us who we are.” Tears were welling up in her eyes. “I used to feel terrible about how your dad wasn’t around. I was so scared that you’d somehow resent me or resent your life, but look at you. You’re almost grown. You’re going to college…” She paused to wipe her eyes “… and you are going to get so many girls with that guitar.”

Dan’s sullenness cracked.

“Mom!”

“What, let’s not forget that I was VERY pregnant during my graduation ceremony”

“Mom, gross.”

“You’re a grown up now. Learn from my mistakes and don’t use the guitar for evil.”

Dan picked up the guitar and strummed.

—

Dan had been playing and practicing his dad’s guitar for a few hours a day while Nicky was at school. More than once he’d had to put the thing down because it brought up a rage or a sadness that Dan couldn’t seem to control. But, he kept going back to it all the same like it was a drug that he couldn’t kick, or didn’t want to kick.

His mom was right, the Taylor guitar that he’d named Billie after a Dave Matthews Band song  (because he was of course that guy) did do its job in college. It gave him something to do after his brain went to mush studying for hours on end. It made him friends, and yes it did get him laid. The usefulness had come to an end during his last semester of his senior year, though. He’d decided to trade it for a beat up old Mitsubishi Eclipse which thought he got steal on. He was soon corrected when he had to take out a credit card to put in a new transmission.

Since then, he’d grown up. He met a girl. Got married. He got jobs, quit jobs, started his own business and had a kid of his won. He hadn’t even thought about guitar or his dad in years. Now, thoughts and memories haunted him.

The time, his dad called from the road to wish him a happy birthday a week late.

The time, he’d played a song at a party and it led to his first and only threesome.

The time his dad called and asked him for money.

The time he met his future wife at an open mic night that he didn’t end up performing at.

The time he ignored his dad’s phone call.

The time he found out from his mom that his dad died and he didn’t react at all.

The time that this guitar showed up on his door step just like the Taylor did twenty years prior.

This was what was on his mind when his phone alarm went off to remind him that it was time to head to the school for afternoon pick-up. He stopped absentmindedly strumming, leaned the guitar against the table, grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

He should’ve put the guitar away.

“What the…?” This was Nicky’s current favorite exclamation. “You got the guitar out?”

Dan’s playing had until now been a completely private thing. Like therapy it had brought back feelings and memories that he’d just as soon put back, but for the last few days he didn’t want to. He was panning for gold and was learning to separate the sparkles from the silt.

“Can you play something?”

“Not now, don’t you want a snack?”

“Yeah, but first can you play something?”

Dan recognized that A six-year-old denying an after school snack was a serious matter. He took a deep breath and picked up the guitar.

Getting out of his head for the first time while playing was different. He looked at Nicky and started to finger pick out a melody. It was coming from nowhere as if he’d caught the wind in a sail. He’d gotten better at playing, too. The melody was clear and beautiful. After he’d gotten over the shock that he was actually playing the guitar, he switched to strummed chorus, rhythmic and percussive. Nicky was transfixed. Just when Dan thought he couldn’t surprise himself anymore, he started to sing.

—

When news of his dad’s death came Dan didn’t tell anyone. His wife went to bed like always, right after Nicky. After looking in on his son, splayed out taking up more room than should be possible for a small child Dan poured himself a bourbon and put on his headphones.

Dan’s father was a troubadour. He played in all sorts of bands and projects. Nothing remotely famous, but he was prolific none the less. He turned Spotify and started cueing up songs.

He listened to an R&B diva belt out gospel tinged ballads while his dad’s guitar faded into the background. He listened to a blue eyed soul singer, where his dad’s rhythm guitar carried the song through hacky lyrics and contrived chord progressions. He listened to his Dad shred through solos that where way too good for a bar band that covered Slayer. Finally he listened to his dad’s one and only solo album of original songs and heard his dad sing of loss and love and life never once mentioning him or the life he turned away from.

When he first heard this album years ago when his dad had mailed him a burnt copy on CD Dan remembered being angery. Where was this through his childhood? Where was his dad when he got his heart broken for the first time or when he got married. Where was he when his only grandson was born? Then that rage turned abruptly to an all consuming sadness. Sadness that all the potential was now gone. His Dad was gone. All that was left was this music and Dan Wept.

“What’s wrong dad” Nicky’s groggy voice came by surprise. Dan pulled out his headphones and quickly wiped the tears away. He checked the time. Way too late for the presence of a kid.

“What are you doing up, buddy?”

“I had a bad dream. Why are you crying?”

“I was just listening to a sad song. Let’s get you back to bed.”

He picks Nicky up. He’s almost too big to carry now. Nicky wrapped his arms and legs around him and put his head on Dan’s shoulder.

“Maybe you should go to bed too daddy.”

“You’re probably right, kiddo.”

—

“Dad, you’re pretty good at guitar.” Said Nicky through a mouth full of Cheese-itz.

“That’s high praise coming from you, kid”

“You should have a concert.”

“That’s not quite how it works.”

You could play on a stage with a microphone!”

Nicky got progressively more excited with each word.

“But don’t smash the guitar.”

Dan laughed. “Why would I smash the guitar?”

“I saw it on YouTube. People get really excited and smash their guitars and sparks come out and everything.”

Dan leaned the guitar against the wall and stood up.

“Ok, we need to talk about you not watching YouTube when an adult isn’t there.”

Nicky grabbed his hand.

“Promise you won’t smash grandpa’s guitar?”

“Of course I promise”

“Promise you’ll play on a stage with a microphone?”

“We’ll see buddy. Want another snack? I’ll make you bugs on a log”

Nicky didn’t fall for the temptations of celery, raisins and peanut butter.

“Promise, dad.”

When did this kid get so serious.

“Fine”, Dan finally relented. “I promise”

“Yes! Now, I’m ready for my snack.”

“I bet you are. Extortion is taxing work.”

Nicky looked perplexed.

“What’s extortion?”

“Don’t worry about it. C’mon you can put on the bugs”

—

DJ was four, maybe three. The memory isn’t clear but, he’s standing next to his bedroom door. He remembers seeing his dad kiss his mom on the head, pick up the guitar case and leave. DJ watched his mom slide down the wall and sit on the floor with her head in her hands.

“Mom, what’s the matter?”

Eve wiped the tears from her eyes.

“DJ, what in the world are you doing up so late?”

“I had a bad dream.”

“Well lets get you back to bed.”

Eve picked DJ up and carries him towards his room.

“Are you ok, mom?”

“I will be. We will be”

—

“It’s dark in here. Why do grown ups always like it so dark?”

“I don’t know buddy.”

Dan was sitting in a bar with a six-year-old. It should be no surprise that the Nicky is the wisest of the two of them, right now. Asking questions that Dan had never thought to ask. The couple in front of them turn to shush them with a judging glare.

Dan couldn’t blame them. This was all highly in appropriate, but he’d made a promise and a promise must be kept.

“Nicky, don’t blow out the candle.”

Dan moved the candle to his side of the table.

“I’m just pretending it’s my birthday”

“Well, don’t. Do you want another Shirley temple?”

“With extra cherries?”

“I think you’ve had enough cherries buddy”

Dan called the waitress over. She’d been exceptionally kind and patient with the small child in the dive bar. He’d have to tip her extra.

“Can we get another round please?”

The waitress nods and heads over.

“Dad, why are you shaking your leg like that?”

“I’m nervous, bud.”

“Why?”

“Because I haven’t played in front of people in a long time.”

“Nu uh. You played in front of me. I’m a person.”

“Touche”

“Can I look at my tablet?”

“Sure bud”

Dan handed Nicky the tablet computer wrapped in a kid proof case and he looked at his watch. If he didn’t get called soon. He’d have to bow out. He would not be the guy that keeps a kid in a bar past nine. He’d already been getting strange looks as it was. He should just go anyway. He’d try to find an earlier open mic next time. Just as he was about to get up Nicky looks up from his tablet.

“Dad, you’re going to do great!”

Dan is taken aback.

“Um, thanks kiddo.”

Nicky’s attention is back to the glowing rectangle in his lap.

“What the hell? How’d this kid get so fucking wise all of a sudden.”, Dan thought.

Dan’s oncoming existential crisis was interrupted the by the sound of his own name. He squeezed Nicky’s hand, grabed the guitar and headed toward the five by five platform raised off the ground by six or so inches that they called a stage.

He strapped the guitar on, raised the mic to correct hight and was suddenly very aware of everyone. He saw his mom sitting against the wall smiling though her tears as his three-year-old self emerged from the bedroom. He saw his dad pulling out the guitar and singing him a song that he can’t remember anymore after spending the afternoon with him playing video games and drinking coke-a-colas. He saw his son, picking up leaves off of the ground on the way to school and asking questions both enormous and tiny.

Then he saw his son, now sitting in the audience staring at *his* father. Dan saw in Nicky’s eyes nothing but potential for what could be, what would be. He saw all of Nicky’s hopes and dreams mixed with his hopes and dreams and those of the generations before him. Some realized, most impossible. But, they were there waiting for a chance to come forth.

Dan took a breath and strummed.

Eddie opened his mouth to break this interminable quiet but thought better of it. Why should he talk? If he never spoke another word for the rest of his life his actions would have spoken enough. He turned on the radio instead. 

Alicia Keys’ voice filled the car. “I keep on fallin’ in and out of love with you” 

Nope. 

They both lunged for the dial at the same time, touching hands, then pulling back. It was the sort of awkward exchange that neither of them ever thought they’d experience with each other. Just one more sign that everything was different all of a sudden. The toothpaste was out of the tube. Viv got the radio dial, finally settling on “Hash Pipe” by Weezer to keep the tension from ripping the two travelers apart like those old crash test dummies commercials. 

Viv couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Why?” The tension came out of her making her shake with a combination of embarrassment and anger for and towards her friend. “Why would you do that” 

“Do what?” Eddie crumpled up another napkin. He wasn’t ready. 

“Kiss me! Why would you kiss me?” She flashed back to that gas station. Eddie had said something to make her laugh. She couldn’t even remember what. Then he touched her arm. She felt the goosebumps. He must have felt them. The next thing she knew his lips were on hers and she was swimming in the summer heat as her mind seemed to summersault. The sky was down. The ground was up and she seemed to be flying… before logic brought her back to reality. Back to the gas station and the oppressive heat that seems to sit in the southern Midwest. Back to that feeling that she spent months wrenching herself away from. She couldn’t go through that again. She pushed the feelings and Eddie away, and got into the car without a word. 

Eddie had run out of napkins to crumble. “I don’t know. I just . . . it felt right. I’m really sorry if I was off base.” 

“Eddie, we’ve been friends for years. Why now? Was it the romance of the Shamrock station that you couldn’t overcome, or was it the man with the confederate flag that created the right ambiance?” 

“I don’t know, man.” Eddie let out a sigh. If she wanted to do this, fine. It couldn’t get worse. “If I’m being honest, I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”  He looked out of the passenger side window as they passed a sign that said “Tulsa 22 Miles” 

Viv pulled behind a semi-truck carrying huge sewage pipes. “Are you kidding me?” She put on her blinker to pass. “Where was this two years ago. When you wanted to ‘play the field’ and ‘experience the college life’” She made air quotes taking her hands away from the wheel more than Eddie was comfortable with. 

“I was dumb. Is that what you want me to say? I thought that was what I wanted. I thought that it was a right of passage or something. We were at a party at that very moment. I was living the college life, kegs coeds, beer pong, all of it. I really thought that that was the dream. Like I was in a movie. But it was the wrong movie. It was a stupid thing to say then and it was obviously a stupid idea to kiss you.”

Viv was still silent. 

“It wasn’t planned if that makes you feel any better.” 

“Well, I’m glad that you didn’t plan your grand romantic gesture outside of a store that sells tiny fake roses in meth pipes. You’re a regular Richard Curtis.” Viv’s American Cultural History Through Film course was paying off sooner than expected. She pulled up right behind a pickup truck and laid on the horn. “Get out of the left lane, asshole.”

“Woah!” Eddie grabbed ahold of the oh-shit-bar. “Viv, chill. We’re in Oklahoma. Some redneck is going to pull a gun on you if you keep that shit up”. Viv screamed in frustration, threw on her blinker, jerked the car to the right lane, and then off to the shoulder, finally pulling to a stop. Eddie’s mind fought between confusion and relief and eventually settled somewhere in the middle. 

“You want to fucking drive? Then fucking drive.” Viv opened the door and got out of the car. The late afternoon sun bore down on her as she fought back tears. She took a few breaths to calm herself down and leaned against the driver’s side fender. A hot breeze blew at her back as she turned around to look at the landscape. They were beside some of Oklahoma’s seemingly never-ending pasture land. The heat robbed the scene of what should have been beautiful green grass below a blue sky. What was left was yellowed grass covered by a yellow sky. Dark clouds were on the horizon and visible heat waves stretched as far as the eye could see. She heard the passenger side door unlatch and the warning ding from inside the car.

“It feels like it needs to rain.” 

Viv didn’t need to hear Eddie’s opinion at that particular moment but her anger had subsided enough that she could at least feign politeness with a dry “Yeah.” 

“Vivvy . . .” 

“Don’t call me that. Not right now” She had always hated when people called her Vivvy. Viv or Vivian was fine, but why pick something in the middle? It was endlessly annoying, except when Eddie did it with that wry half-smile only he was able to pull off. It was the kind of smile that only confidence could make work. Confidence that Eddie had ironically found when he went to college. She didn’t want that smile or that irony right now. It’d just set her off again. 

“Sorry. Viv.” Eddie shut the door and the dinging ceased. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to upset you. You’re my best friend for God’s sake” 

“Do you kiss all of your friends?” Viv couldn’t keep the acid out of her voice. “I don’t know if Roger would be into that?” (Little did Viv know that Roger Partridge had dreamt of Eddie Yu kissing him since the day they met in Mass Comp 102, but that was neither here nor there.)

“Well you’re not just one of my friends are you?” Eddie took a cautious step towards her. “You know me more than anyone else. You’ve known me for years.”

“So has your mom, you don’t kiss her like that.” 

“Fair, but my mom didn’t sit through Attack of the Clones for me, did she?” A smile crept into the corner of Viv’s lips. He pressed forward, dropping his voice into the throaty monotone of emo Anakin Skywalker. “I don’t like sand.” Viv’s smile grew. Eddie continued. “It’s coarse and it gets everywhere” He pronounced everywhere in that peculiar way Anakin did in the movie with the lilt on the final syllable that had sent them into a fit of laughter in the movie theater. Viv couldn’t suppress a cackle. 

“You know, if you’re going to continue to try to project this Mr. Cool Guy routine you should lay off the Star Wars. It’s unbecoming of a grown man who just wants to ‘experience life’.” Viv made sure to put a little English on experience life, just to drive the point home. 

“Hey, that’s not fair.” 

“Why not? Isn’t that what you want, to grow up, to get drunk with your bros, date some coeds, get a job in finance and move to the suburbs?” 

“You know what I think?” Now it was Eddie that was having some trouble keeping some cool. “I think you’re mad because I am growing. I’m not the same little nerd I was when we were in high school. I’ve found my voice. I’ve started working out. I hit a growth spurt.” 

Another one Viv’s signature cackles burst out, this one filled with astonished pity. “Do you think that’s what it means to grow up? You get a year older, hit the gym, and voila you’re a big boy now? Listen, you may have found your voice in the last few years but you lost your . . .” Viv trailed off marveling at her way with words. 

“Whatever.” Eddie’s gift of gab had apparently decided to take a day off as well. “The storm’s getting close. Let’s just get home. I’ll take a driving shift. Toss me the keys.”

Viv patted her pockets. “I don’t have them. They must be in the car” 

Eddie jiggled the door handle to no effect. “Shit” The first drop of southern summer rain exploded on the windshield. 

“What do you mean ‘shit’?” Viv could feel that familiar feeling moving into her chest. A panic attack may be imminent. The rain started to soak through her red scoop-neck Hollister T-shirt. This was just perfect timing. 

Eddie jiggled the handle “What do you think it means? Do you have your cell phone?” Viv checked her pockets, brought out her Nokia, and inspected it. “No bars” 

“Goddamnit!” Eddie smacked the hood of the car. “What is the fucking point of those things?” The rain had flattened his hair that he liked to keep spiky against his forehead. His clothes were soaked. He pointed to large corrugated metal equipment shed about a quarter of a mile away. The rain was coming down in sheets now. Viv pushed the hair out of her face and nodded. They both ran towards the building. 

The building itself was locked. A large awning around the back provided their only shelter. The rain on the corrugated tin created a din that was loud but steady, like a tv static at full volume. Viv checked her cell. Still, no bars, and the battery was dying. She silently chided herself for wasting a full battery trying to beat her high score on Snake. Eddie cleared random scrap metal, tools, and dirt off of a storage box and gestured for Viv to take a seat. She thought about standing out of protest. The rain had not washed away her irritation at his all-encompassing cluelessness but she had just sprinted a quarter-mile and while she wasn’t out of shape she wasn’t so big a glutton for punishment that she’d force herself to stand. She was just enough of a glutton for punishment that she’d sit next to her unrequited (until recently) love that she’d gone through hell and back to get past. It didn’t help that Eddie was soaked and the rain had made his Abercrombie ringer tee cling to his newly developed upper body. He really had gone through a growth spurt. 

“Well, that came out of nowhere.” Eddie Wu, king of the obvious. 

“Welcome to my world.” Vivian Evans, queen of not letting things go. 

There it was again, that divide. They’d known each other through the most evolutionary moments of their lives. They’d seen the awkwardness of a child slowly turning into an adult and then the awkwardness of turning into a functional adult. Change upon change upon change and they weren’t done yet. This metamorphose is always scary but they always had each other. Now they stood on opposite sides of a canyon all because Eddie had shitty timing. Someone had to build a bridge. 

Both of them spoke at the same time—“I’m sorry.” (This tended to happen to them at times of high emotion like when that time they watched City of Angels together.) They spent a good thirty seconds with an awkward, “You go first.” “No, you go first,” before Viv finally claimed victory.

“I’m sorry I got mad.” 

Eddie interrupted “No, I’m sorry”                                                           

“Let me finish.” 

Eddie obeyed.

“Getting mad wasn’t the right call. But, like, it was frustrating.” She paused for a moment thinking back to that moment at the gas station. “And good. But, like frustrating, you know” 

“I’m sorry. I obviously wasn’t going for frustrated when I kissed you.” 

“What were you going for? Do you even know? Did you think through the process?”

Eddie sat silently. Staring at Viv with that quiet intensity of his, like his mind was tethered to hers. 

“Eddie, I’ve loved you since I met you . . .“

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief.

“But, you told me a year ago that this isn’t what you wanted. You said you were scared to lose a friend. It took a lot out of me to respect your decision. I nearly quit school. Did you know that?” (Once after a particularly bad night when he’d worn that old pair of boot-cut jeans that fit him just so to their weekly study session she ran to her dorm and played the Titanic soundtrack so many times that the RA had to do a well-being check.)

“No, I’m so sorry” 

“It’s fine. Well, not fine, but it’s fine now. I got through it. It took a lot of Smirnoff Ice and I think my roommate will be turned off Celine Dion forever but I got over it. Then you. Today.” She grunted in frustration. Why couldn’t she get the words out? 

The rain continued its rhythmic pounding like that one friend who can’t stand awkward silences. 

Eddie shifted in his seat. It turns out an old wooden tool bench next to someone who’s heart you’d inadvertently kicked around like a hacky-sac wasn’t super comfortable. 

“I never lied to you.” He saw Viv’s jaw set and her back stiffen, her go-to defense position. He quickly pivoted. 

“I mean, I really felt like that then. Well, I thought I did. I was stupid.” Viv’s shoulders relaxed. She liked being right. “These last few months have shown me that” 

“Eddie, these last few months have been the same as the previous fifty.” 

“Are you serious? Viv, these last few months have been some of the hardest of my life.”

This caught Viv off guard. 

“Yeah, it’s been awful. I’ve been on the verge of a nervous breakdown all semester.” 

Viv shifted towards him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know” 

“That’s because I didn’t tell you.” Eddie stood up. “I guess I knew deep down that I hurt you and I thought that meant that I couldn’t talk to you about stuff anymore like, that was my—” Eddie searched for the right word. “Penance. I felt, like really alone all the time.”

Viv felt blood rush to her face. She couldn’t believe how stupid she’d been. She was so wrapped up in her feelings that she couldn’t see what her best friend was going through. Worse, she didn’t care. Eddie noticed her embarrassment. 

“No, no this isn’t your problem. It never was. And, honestly it’s a shitty excuse for keeping you at arm’s length.” 

“Eddie, no matter what feelings I have for you, I still want to know if you’re in a bad place” Viv stood up and walked over and wrapped her arms around him.

Feeling safe, wrapped up in Viv’s arms Eddie’s guard left him. He uncontrollably sobbed on his oldest friend’s shoulder. All of the pressure to finish school, get a job and to start his adult life lifted. For the first time in months, years he was just . . . there.

“I’m so sorry.” Eddie stepped back and stared at the ground while trying to regain his composure. Maybe his dignity was somewhere down there. “I feel like an idiot.” 

“Don’t.” Viv playfully punched his shoulder. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen you cry. I was there when you first watched My Girl.

Eddie threw up his hands. “How did you watch that when you were twelve? I’m going to be seeing a shrink for years because of that movie and I saw it when I was twenty.”

Viv tried to bring up some fake tears. “Wanna go tree climbing, Thomas Jay?” 

“Stop.”

“Where’s his glasses? He can’t see without his glasses.” 

Maybe it was Viv’s terrible acting or maybe it was nostalgia for fake heartbreak, but something made the mood change. Both Viv and Eddie were overcome with that kind of laughter that takes over your whole body. They both laughed so hard that at different times each one of them genuinely thought that they were going to die. For some reason this started the cycle over again. 

Eddie sat back on the tool box holding his stomach to calm the ache from that killer laughter. “I am sorry.”

“Stop it. You don’t have to apologize for crying.” Viv sat next to him. 

“No, not about that.” Eddie turned towards her. “I’m sorry that I held that back from you. And, I’m really sorry about the kiss.” 

Oh, the kiss. The bomb that set this whole thing off. Viv scooted a few inches away from Eddie. Eddie followed her, closing the gap that she’d just made.

“I’m not sorry that I kissed you. I’m sorry that—”

“Stop it!” Viv couldn’t take it anymore. “We don’t have to talk about it right now. I can’t do that again. I get it. We—“

“Viv.” Eddie took her hand. “I just said that I wasn’t sorry that I kissed you.”

“Oh, I just thought—“

“Let me finish. I’m not sorry that I kissed you. I am sorry that I made you feel badly for so long believing something that didn’t turn out to be true. I made you think that I didn’t love you. I made myself think that.”

Viv felt her breath catch.

“I was putting a lot of pressure on myself to be this guy I thought I was supposed to be and it nearly ate me up inside. I put myself on an island and separated myself from the only person that could save me. Here’s the truth. I love you and I understand if you don’t want to open that wound again. Just thanks for being patient and being—”

This time it was Viv that made the move. Before either of them knew it she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist, grabbed his face and kissed him. Eddie, to his credit quickly assessed the situation and was determined not to botch it this time. He grabbed Viv’s waist pulled her closer to him and kissed back. The sky was down. The ground was up and they both seemed to be flying. This time neither wanted to return to the ground,

…

It took some doing and some light borrowing of some tools from the mystery shed but Eddie successfully jimmied the car door open.

“You shouldn’t have worried about college Eddie. You clearly could’ve gotten by on your street smarts. You could have become a criminal mastermind” 

“Yeah all I need is several borrowed tools and about half an hour. Then no late 80’s coup would be safe. Let’s just hope the battery didn’t die” 

They each held their breath as Eddie turned the key. The car started and they both exhaled. Garbage played on the radio as Eddie pulled back on the highway. They interlocked fingers as Shirley Manson’s raspy Scotish accent sang “I’m only happy when it rains.” Neither of them reached for the radio.