24. Reed
I’m worried about my family.
Though Cade is home now, Laney still refuses to come and live with us. She seems so fragile; I don’t understand why she doesn’t feel safer when we’re around. It concerns me that she thinks we’re—at least in part—responsible for what she’s gone through.
Maybe we are.
When I first met her, she was a spiky teenager, but now she’s a broken adult.
I think of all the moments in her life when I’ve let her down.
There are so many that I can’t help but think maybe she’s right in not wanting to be around me.
I left her when she was three years old, abandoning her to a life with an addict for a mother.
Then, when I eventually reappear after her mother’s death, I put her in a situation where she not only almost loses her life, but also suffers at the hands of those bastards.
Cade’s physical injuries may be healing again, but he doesn’t seem much better mentally. The doctor’s words about how traumatic brain injuries can cause personality changes keep ringing through my head, but I don’t think Cade’s anger is down to the head injuries.
The director at the concert hall has been in touch about Darius. I explained how Darius must have picked up a stomach bug and he’s agreed to rearrange the show. I haven’t spoken to Darius about it yet, though.
I go to find my youngest son.
It’s strange living in a house where he’s not playing. He’s always played, the rooms filled with the notes from his violin. I haven’t heard him play a single song since we’ve been back.
I find him in the kitchen, drinking coffee while standing at the counter, his back to me.
I know he’s already heard me come in, but I clear my throat anyway.
“The concert hall director called,” I tell him.
“He said he was sorry you were taken ill, and wanted to know if you were feeling any better. He’s able to reschedule your appearance for tomorrow evening, if you are.
Most of the audience has been happy to transfer their tickets rather than request a refund. ”
Darius presses his lips together. “I see.”
I continue, “But you don’t have to play, if you don’t want to. People will understand. You’ve been through something traumatic. It’s okay if you can’t just step back into your old life.”
Darius grits his teeth. “I’m a musician. It’s who I am. It’s what I do. You all rely on me for it.”
“No, we don’t. We might support you in your career, because we love you and we’re proud of you, and we want to see you do well, but Cade and I can both get different jobs if we need to.
You don’t need to feel that pressure to support us, Darius.
We’re grown men. Besides, with the payout from the airline, money isn’t going to be a worry for us for some time. ”
His shoulders stiffen. “Maybe not, but that doesn’t change that playing the violin is what I do. It’s more than that. I can’t see the person I’d be without it.”
“No one is saying you have to quit, Dax,” I tell him. “Just take some time.”
“If I take some time, I’ll be forgotten. You know how competitive this industry is. Right now, I have a platform—a big one, too. I’d be crazy not to take advantage of that.”
“Your health is more important.”
He turns to face me and seems to think for a moment. “Do you think Laney would come watch if I asked her? Having her in the audience would help.”
“I’m not sure. How would she be with the big crowds?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
I want to help my son, but I also want to protect Laney. I think of how fragile she is.
“It doesn’t feel right to put her in that situation,” I say eventually.
His lips thin. “How do you know that she wouldn’t want to be invited? Maybe she’s feeling excluded. How will we know until we ask her?”
I exhale a breath. I know what Darius can be like once he gets an idea in his head—he won’t back down.
“Do what you want, Dax. What do you want me to say to the concert director?”
Darius picks up his coffee and takes a sip.
“Tell him I’ll play.”