Page 21 of We Redeemed the Rain

I wanted to skip to the next song, but my thumb hesitated over the screen of my iPhone. I closed my eyes against the memories, but they came whether I wanted them to or not.

For the eight minute and forty-two second duration ofAmerican Pie, I was lost.

Lost in the old friendship.

Lost in simpler times.

Lost in the memories of how music used to be my heartbeat—the ebb and flow offrissona type of fluid in my veins, as real and life-bringing as my pulse.

I remembered the confession I wrote on paper years ago as an impressionable little girl.

“I hear music in everything. When mom whips pancake batter. When the tires of our van hum on the road. When the dryer tosses clothes. And when the wind flaps the chain on the flagpole. And even in your letters. Your words sound like music to me. Sometimes I grab my guitar and just play along, singing them back.”

What could I do to feel that way again? That was the problem with my career. Music stopped making my heart beat. And my fans weren’t stupid. They could tell. Paula was right. I needed inspiration.

I wracked my brain.Inspiration. Where do I find that?

The song played through, and I played it again.

Then tapped repeat.

FIVE

Bea

My phone dinged like it was having a seizure.

I looked at the screen, unsurprised to find the family group chat had come to life. If one person dared to send a text, it usually exploded within seconds. My five other siblings and I loved to talk, and the group chat was evidence.

Peter

Has anyone made plans for tonight? Sarah and I were hoping to see you, Bea.

Mom

Everyone can come here for dinner?

Peter

Maybe I can grill. Burgers or something? Or whatever Bea wants.

Ben

Burgers? I’m in

Stella

I hate my life. I have to work. BEAI’M DYING TO SEE YOU

Hollie

Per the usual, me and the girls probably won’t make it. Bea, want to get coffee soon?

Jackie

When I pick her up from the airport, we’re going straight to the apartment, not Mom’s. We need sister time. Deal with it.

Ben

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