Page 9 of Waiting for Gilbert

“You never did like being told what to do.” She raises a chin in challenge.

I chuckle. “Did Cam call you? He texted that he’ll be in town sometime next week.”

“No, he hasn’t. Your brother never remembers to check in with me. I’ll call him.”

“Would you? There’s no room at my place this time.”

I wiggle out of any more confrontations and take my cello to the truck. On the way back, I catch John hauling his keyboard out. “Good show.” I meet him along the sidewalk.

He raises a fist, and I knock mine against it. “What was up with you? If I didn’t know better, I’d say Diana’s sister bewitched you.”

“Who?”

“Cordy Thompson. Cordelia. That ginger you couldn’t keep your eyes from.”

“That’sthe sister?” I shove my hands in my jean pockets against the cold. “I didn’t recognize her. I’d only seen pictures when Diana showed everyone her skydiving thing forever ago.”

“Yeah. I was just talking to Nate. I guess she’s moving in for a few weeks. Maybe helping out with the kids?”

“Isn’t she a chef?”

John shrugs. “Food photography? I don’t know if you have to be a chef for that.”

“Huh. Cool. Hey, I liked those arpeggios you dropped into ‘Silent Night.’”

“Thanks.” His face lights up with a smile. “I’m so bored of that song. I had to do something to stay awake.”

The icy snow crunches under my boots. “That’d go viral for sure. ‘Man faints during boring Christmas show.’”

He stands the keyboard case on its end. “Speaking of viral, you check our channel recently?”

“Never. Watching myself play weirds me out.”

“Gil, buddy. This is how we’re going to make it big. It wouldn’t hurt to get involved in the marketing. Hadley Strings has a chance to get out of here if we’d push around the edges.”

“You have your hobbies. I have mine.”

John sighs. “It’s not a hobby if it makes us real money someday.”

“What if we did a mashup with ‘Silent Night’? Flip it on its head with… ‘Go Tell it on the Mountain.’” It’s ironic because the songs are saying two different things with the same overarching message.

“Sure. You write it. I’ll play it.”

Light pours through the picture window of the living room. People look like they’re having a good time. “Well, hey. I’m gonna take off.”

“All work and no play—” John slips on the ice, and I grab his elbow to steady him.

“I played all afternoon, and it was great. I’ll see you Saturday.”

His face falls. “You’re not staying for games again? I miss you in there. There is no replacement.”

“Dream team for sure. Some other time, man.” I slap him on the back and run inside to say good-bye to Aunt Jewels. I can’t afford another late night and therefore lose another early morning. With the amount of work that needs done on the big house before January, I can’t give myself breaks.

When I asked John’s sister, Nicole, to keep her ears open for a renter to my small cottage, where I currently sleep, I thought I’d have more time. She sees dozens of patients a day at her family clinic. Everyone tells her everything. If someone was looking for a place to rent, she’d hear of it. Magically, she told me this afternoon she’d found a renter wanting the place right after the holidays. Too desperate for the income, I won’t turn it down even if it means working around the clock the next two weeks before Christmas.

After I arrive at my little shack of a house, I sit in my truck an extra minute with 80s rock music filling the cab.

Why don’t you grow up?Cordelia’s statement didn’t sting. I shake my head in a silent laugh. There was no bite in it. Nathan’s kids were ruthless, and I could tell she was embarrassed.

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