now. “What do you know about it? You’re an orderly. Go mop a floor and leave my sister alone.”
She stormed out, heels clopping, leaving me with a broom in my hand and an empty dining room to clean up.
Chapter 12
Jim
The bar was nearly empty that night. The stage dark but for a cone of light shining down on a guy in jeans and a plaid shirt, an acoustic guitar on his lap. Thankfully, the overly welcoming waitress I met when I first came here wasn’t working. Unbothered, I nursed a beer and listened to the guy make his way through covers of modern songs. The listless crowd eked out a clap or two at the end of each tune.
But at least he’s up there.
I had no aspirations to be a singer. I wanted to help kids who stuttered not to have the shitty childhood I had. Eventually, I’d have to put myself out in the world. Onstage, not in the audience.
I’d put myself out there for Thea. Taking a stand for something and then defending it out loud felt good. Watching Thea light up as she painted a masterpiece was worth everyone at Blue Ridge hearing my stutter. The desire to make her better was growing stronger than the pain and humiliation I might face because of it.
And that’s how it might be if you go back to school and get a speech therapy license to help those kids.
“Thanks, you’ve been a great crowd,” the guy said. “I’m going to close with a favorite called ‘I Will Follow You into the Dark.’”
I drained my beer and pushed my chair back to go when the song’s lyrics grabbed my attention. A man telling his love he’d follow her into the dark, but it was nothing to be sad about. They’d go together, hand in hand.
I went home and pulled up “I Will Follow You into the Dark” by Death Cab for Cutie on my phone. It was a simple song—but powerful. I set it on repeat and sat with my guitar, listening for the chord changes. I had to put it in a lower octave for my vocal range, but in an hour, I had mastered it.
For Thea.
Lately, everything in my life was for her. To try to help her as much as she was helping me.
Her happiness, in however small of increments it might come, was all that mattered.
And then it all fell apart.
The next day, Rita caught up with me as I was taking resident bedding to the laundry room. “Something’s going on with Thea,” she said. “She’s hardly said a word, and she didn’t touch her breakfast.”
The words sunk into the pit of my stomach like a heavy stone. “Maybe she didn’t sleep well?”
“She does look tired.” She forced a smile. “Maybe that’s it. I’m sure she’ll perk up once she gets to rec time. Her painting looks just about finished. You’ll take her on her FAE today?”
“Of course,” I said.
The hours crawled until one o’clock and I practically ran to the dining room. Thea sat alone at a table, a plate of untouched food in front of her. Her head was bowed, her wavy blond hair spilling down to curtain her face.
“Miss Hughes?” I said gently.
She raised her head and that unease in my stomach tightened like a vise. Her sky-blue eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, ringed with shadows. She glanced at my nametag.
“Jim,” she said dully. “How long has it been?”
“Two years,” I said. “The doctors are working on your case. Would you like to go outside? Get some fresh air?”
“Sure,” she said. “Sounds good.”
I offered her my arm, and she stared at it for a moment, then slowly put her hand on my skin, hesitantly, as if I would burn her. Her hand found the crook of my elbow, as usual, and she got to her feet.
Maybe Delia was right that painting stirred up too many memories that hung just out of Thea’s reach. Outside, the heat was stifling, and Thea turned her face to the sun as she always did. I wanted to ask if she was okay, but Alonzo had warned against those types of questions. She had no way of knowing.
I took a chance.
“How are you today, M-Miss Hughes?”
“You can call me Thea,” she said. “And I’m… I don’t know. Tired. I’ve been away awhile and just got back. You’re the first person I’ve seen.” She raised her glance to study me. “You have kind eyes, Jim.”