Page 84 of Missing Chord

“Eh. Once upon a time maybe. I’m a legacy act now.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” He took a step toward me into the moonlight, his messy hair lit silver in the dim of the evening, his eyes shadowed. “Yolanda told me ‘Wipeout’ saved her sanity at a hard time in her life. I heard someone I don’t even know in the crowd talking about how they’d come three thousand miles to see you, because your music was so important to them.”

“That’s cool.” More than cool. Hearing Lee say my work made a difference was like a warm hug I hadn’t realized how much I needed. “Thanks.”

“I watched you play acoustic guitar in a nursing home and then play checkers. I think that made me see your music as a hobby and this trip as a luxury.”

“I’m not saving lives, like you do every day.”

“Lots of days, what I do is change adult diapers and yell at suppliers who brought the wrong cotton swabs.” Lee made a sharp gesture. “Not downplaying my job either, but I get why this was important to you.” He gave a choked laugh. “Hell, I requested a song.”

“For someone else.”

“Yeah. It blew her away.” After a pause, he asked, “Were you even planning to play ‘Wipeout’? I didn’t realize how few songs you had.”

We were being honest here, so I said, “No. Wasn’t on my list. But Lee, I’d do anything I can for you. Well, almost. Not stop singing.” I realized I had a hand to my irritated throat and dropped it. “Not unless I have to. But this? ‘Wipeout’ came out the year before my tour with Chaser Lost. I played it a lot back then and they jammed with me more than once. I could swap it onto the set list and I did. I liked being able to say yes to you.”

“Yolanda about lost her shit.” His teeth flashed in a wide grin. “She kept saying, ‘Was that for me? Can’t be, right? Did you do something?’ I got a huge kick out of that.”

“I’m glad. Who is she? I’m so glad you had a friend with you.” I wanted to be that friend, but if he wouldn’t let me, I was beyond relieved he hadn’t been alone, wandering Rocktoberfest for four days. I knew how horribly isolated a guy could feel in the middle of a huge crowd.

“I met her day one. We shared a cab from the bus station to the motel and hit it off.”

“Seriously?”

“I know. Lucky, right? Well, the motel’s a dump. But spending time with her? She’s been through a lot of shit, but she remindedme to find joy. And for her, the biggest joy was your music. That mattered.” He moved closer, reached out and laid a hand on my chest. “You have such a gift. That last song? That broke my heart.”

It was meant to.Was that crass, exploitative, that I took our pain and sold it? Or was that just art, my way of giving my feelings a voice? My throat was too tight to ask. The warmth of his palm spread through me, a contrast to the evening cool on my damp shirt. I shivered.

Lee looked down at where his hand rested on me. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Oh my God. Thank fuck.“Me neither. You.”

“Not to a breakup. Not to death. But I figured out there’s only one of those I can control. Death is out of my hands.”

I had a flash—screech of brakes, rending crash of metal— and laid my hand over his. “I sure got that message this year.”

“Alice once said to me, ‘BB, I can’t be so busy trying not to die that I forget to live.’ That was when I was pushing her to try a treatment that would’ve taken a whole lot of her time and maybe bought some months. She called me BB when I was being too big-brotherish.”

I wanted to hug him for the bleak tone in his voice, but all I dared do was press harder on the back of his hand. “I’m sure you were the best big brother.”

“I tried.” He moved up against me then, and I was able to hold him at last. Closing my arms around him was like finally taking a deep breath after almost drowning.I missed you so much. Let me help.Lee was a big strong guy, but he felt fragile in my arms.He leaned his head on mine. His beard tickled my skin and I loved having him there.

“You always do your best. Above and beyond,” I murmured. “You care, so damned much. That was one of the things I loved about you right from the start. That huge heart you have.”

“I get scared,” he admitted. “Scared and then mad, and I run around like a fool trying to control everything and make the bad shit not happen. Dad left, you left, I lost Alice, so many damned people with COVID and cancer and kidney failure and all the things I lose residents to. I worked like hell to get my NP so I had more control of Alice’s care, but I still couldn’t save her.”

I hugged him tighter.

“I’m tired.” He leaned on me, and I was glad I could support him.

I twisted to kiss his cheek. “Let me help. I know me not following doctor’s orders was one more stress for you, but I love you. I want to be there for you, fate willing.”

He mumbled with his lips brushing my hair below my beret, “I love you too. Kicking you to the curb won’t save me from pain if anything happens to you.”

“And just think of everything we’d be losing if it doesn’t.”

“Yeah. That’s what Yolanda said. Not directly because I didn’t tell her, but just, like, life’s too short. Not to let fear keep me from going for what I want, what I need.”

---