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My dad finds uitar in his hand Battered, scratched case, no-na with all uitar, but I’rateful

We’re alone in the chapel He doesn’t look at ies, Colt You’re a good man”

“You don’t know me, Dad You never have You don’t know the shit I done”

“I know But you’re here, and you clearly love her You’ve made it on your oithout any help from us We should’ve been there for you, but eren’t So…I’m sorry”

I kno h It’s a start, though “Thanks, Dad I wish you’d said that to o, but thanks”

“I know it doesn’t o off on your own like we did You were too young, but I just—I was—”

“Focused on your career, and your golden child” I scrub et it I don’t want to talk about this shit It’s over and done and old news I’o”

I click open the case and lift the guitar out It’s hideously out of tune I flip open the little cubby in the case where the neck sits, pull out a packet of strings I busyit Dad just watches, lost in thoughts, or ive a fk which

He leaves, eventually, without a word

Then I start playing The music just couitar, siting on a hard pew in theatunderhaze, where thethe words and the melody into me

“Mr Calloway?” A timid female voice cohtly to acknowledge her “Ms Hawthorne is awake She’s asking for you”

I nod, pack up uitar and carry it as I follow the nurse back to the roo at her cut-scars with a forefinger I pull the hard plastic visitor’s chair next to the bed and take her fingers in e paw Kiss her palain

She looks at reen, so beautiful and so broken “Colt—Colton I—”

I touch her lips “Sshh I love you Always”

She still sees through me “You’re not okay either, are you?”

I shake my head “No, not really” I see the question in her eyes, so I sigh and tell her the story “I told you about India, how she died”

“Yeah?” She’s hesitant, as if she can guess where this is going