Page 54 of Waiting for Gilbert

Which is why I am a friend. A friend who enjoys the smell of girly shampoo and wants to replay the part where her hand was in mine.

Write music. Mud drywall. Schedule gigs. Purchase lumber. The beat of these thoughts cools my blood. Construction. Music. Sawdust. Cold showers in unfinished houses.

I retreat one step, then another, until I’m safely in my uncomfortable wooden chair.

I split the deck. Clear my throat. “We’ll play for thirty minutes. And then you sleep. Tomorrow, you need to take it easy. Sleep in if you can.”

“I don’t need your advice, Gilly-boy.” She pulls her curls into a bun that flops to the side of her head.

Wow, she’s cute. I chuckle on an exhale as I deal the cards. Thirty minutes, then I’m out of here before I act on impulses that would initiate the prelude of losing her forever.

22

GILBERT

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 21

BON JOVI—IT’S MY LIFE

“Run it again.” John fiddles with the sound board, then counts the beat with his fingers, mouthing:One, two, three, four. Foam egg crates line the walls and ceiling of the home studio he built in his attic. He sits at his keyboard worth more than my truck.

We’re working through our set for tomorrow’s show at Westroads Mall in Omaha. They requested “edgy and upbeat but still classical Christmas,” so we’re adding a new arrangement for this show. I’ve written a fantasia with strains of “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” that blends into “Silent Night” and finishes with “Hark the Herald Angel Sings.” Touches of “Joy to the World” sprinkle throughout the fifteen-minute piece. If John Williams wrote a sacred track for a pageant, this would be it.

I love that this piece speaks the whole message of the Bible. For background music, it’s peaceful but won’t knock anyone to sleep. I left plenty of the traditional melodies so listeners will catch a phrase here and there that they’ll recognize. It almost feels like cheating to use all these public domain songs.

John records our practice session to upload to YouTube once we have a perfect full set. He promises this will make us money. I don’t argue. If he wants to waste the time messing with it, it doesn’t make any difference on my end. Dreams don’t pay bills.

“Cut.” John tosses his headphones to the card table. “That was great. Depending on the crowd, we can play it through twice. Or open with it and recycle it toward the end. Few people shop the whole night, and there’s enough variance they’ll never know.”

“We won’t need to.” I stand and stretch my arms. “With our regular Christmas set, and now this one, we can easily fill the three hours. You told him we take a fifteen halfway?”

John nods while absently tapping a pencil on his knee. “You going to Aunt J’s tonight?”

I frown. John knows I’m always at her Thursday get-togethers.

John doesn’t look at me. “I was thinking of asking CJ if she’d like me to pick her up.”

“Like a date?”

“I’ve been trying to connect with her since our original date was canceled.” He shrugs. “I guess she’s been busy.”

“Yeah, she’s got a tight deadline for work.” What I don’t mention is that she texts multiple times a day, delivers me home-cooked food, and I know she doesn’t work around the clock because she’s had dinner in town with Diana three times this week.

Then there was last night. I stayed for countless rounds of Speed until we were both laughing and exhausted. Only then did we remember the showerhead. That ate up another half-hour. By then we’d stayed up so late our stomachs were growling, and she started bringing out food.

John’s expression is hopeful. “Maybe she wouldn’t mind if I picked her up.”

I rub the back of my neck. “We were going to drive together.”

He stands as if he’s just remembered something then sits again. “That makes sense. Sure. Yeah. Since you live on the same property.” He nods while shuffling sheet music on the piano. “You’ve not changed your social status. So…”

“Huh?”

“You’re not dating. You and CJ aren’t—something?”

“Nah, man. Just friends.”

“Right. Didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes.”

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