Page 33 of Fractured

She’d mentioned him a few times, about how they’d gone to see a movie or checked out a new restaurant downtown. I was waiting to see if it would fizzle out, so I didn’t have to bethatfriend. You know the one, who never wanted their friends to have anything good in their lives. Not that Harper would think that, but it would still make me feel bad.

In fact, every time she had brought him up, I had been swamped in nerves, afraid to crush her spirit. The fact that he seemed like an amazing guy to her only concerned me more. Would she think I was crazy? Jealous? I couldn’t lose my only friend. I just had to find the right way to tell her. And the courage.

Back to this date. What was I supposed to wear? What were we supposed to do? The level of anxiety and the questions surrounding it was too much, given that it was with Ambrose. We’d already spent hours together, even sleeping all night on my couch in a beautiful tangled position.

He wouldn’t tell me what he had planned, only that he had it covered.

Now I had about eight hours to worry and think about it before he came to pick me up.

I could go into Randolf’s, but after learning about his heart attack the previous week, I didn’t want to go back into the studio if I didn’t have to. They were too melancholic, acting as if he hadn’t made it through the surgery, and it was fucking with my head.

So I would go in for group rehearsals and that would be it. At least for the time being.

A text notification went off on my phone, and I glanced down to see who it was. It was a group chat created to keep the orchestra up to date on Randolf’s progress. I steeled myself as I opened it, hoping everything was fine. It was his niece, Kate.

Kate: Thank you to everyone who has stopped by to visit Randolf. He’s really appreciated all the love and well-wishes. We also have enough flowers and casseroles to supply us for the next three years! His door is open for anyone else who wants to stop by.

That was a thought.

The initial rush of all the visitors from the orchestra would already be over. I’d be able to see Randolf by himself. After giving me such an amazing opportunity, I needed to go see him.

Perfect. After spending the entire weekend on my cello, a break would be good for me too.

I put on a cleaner shirt and grabbed my keys. Kate had sent the address over after Randolf’s surgery was a success, so I just dropped it in GPS. He actually lived a lot closer to me than I realized, in a nice subdivision on the other side of the suburb.

Kate came out on the porch as I was getting out of my car. Wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, she smiled and called hello. She was bubbly and vibrant, just like Sophia from the hospital. The world was probably easy for her, and it made me a little jealous.

“Are you from the orchestra?” she asked. We’d never met officially, but I’d seen her once or twice at our annual Christmas party.

“Yes, my name is Lilith. Is Randolf still taking visitors?” I wanted to smack myself on the forehead. Yes, he was taking visitors, she’d just sent the text maybe fifteen or twenty minutes ago.

“Of course, of course. Come on in. He just woke up from a nap.” She opened the door and stepped back so I could enter the house. It was about twice the size of mine, but still modest. Bold colors were splashed everywhere, from the paint colors to the furniture and artwork. It was truly the house of a creative, and it made me love Randolf a little more.

“Great, thank you,” I said as I passed her.

“We’re so fortunate they were able to put a stent in. The doctor thinks he’ll have no issues going forward, at least for now, but we’re still going to be cautious.” She spoke over her shoulder as she led me down a short hallway to a bedroom with the door half open.

For a second, the gray door took me back to my visits with Lauren. I blinked and the memory was gone.

“Ah, Lilith! So good to see you,” Randolf called happily as he wiggled in the bed until he was sitting up straighter.

“Hi, Randolf,” I said softly as I sat down in the chair they’d placed by the bed.

“Tell me, how is your practicing going? Next time, you will bring cello and play for me, yes?” He smiled, but the grooves and wrinkles seemed a little deeper, a little more haggard.

“Absolutely.” I nodded and cupped my knees, hating seeing him there in his bed. It was better than any hospital, and he was wearing his own clothes instead of a horrible hospital gown. There weren’t even any tubes hooked up to him. But there was something that was still so devastating about seeing him bedridden and knowing he had come so close to losing his life.

He watched me with a soft look in his eyes as I struggled to find something to say. It was so different with Lauren. She was out of her mind most of the time, so I was free to watch and judge her. Here, with Randolf, I was feeling things I didn’t want to feel. My throat clogged on what could have happened, even though it didn’t.

“I’m okay, child. I’ll be okay.” He reached over and patted my arm.

Another nod, because I was afraid if I said anything, I would cry. And I didn’t cry in front of people. Ambrose and maybe Saint just happened to be the exception apparently.

The next few minutes went by mostly painlessly as he chatted about things that didn’t matter at all, and I wondered how he could be in such good spirits right after surgery and with his life’s work still on the line.

After saying goodbye to both Randolf and his niece, I got in my car, sitting there for a minute and soaking in the warmth from the sun. I needed it right then, because my bones were cold to the marrow.

The drive home passed in a haze, and even though I was happy I’d visited Randolf, seen he was all right with my own eyes, all the happiness was sucked right out of me. Once I was home, I found a letter propped up against the door with my name on it.

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