Page 28 of Inherited Light
“Why are you feeling guilty?” I asked, swiveling to let her sit on the couch instead of stand.
“Because she let this go too long and lied to me about how she felt,” Foster answered. I glanced his way and then back to Cinn, and she nodded.
“He’s right. I’ve been struggling for almost a year. I should have admitted defeat and gone back on the drug before things got this bad, but my ego wouldn’t let me. I had such determination to stay off it and one day give him a child.”
“Because if you have his child, he won’t leave?” I asked her and she kept her eyes downcast.
“No, I know he won’t leave me. I’m a teacher, right?” she asked and we both nodded in unison, hoping for an explanation we could understand once and for all. “I spend my days with wonderful, talented kids. I look into their eyes and wonder what mine and Foster’s child might be like. I wonder if he or she would love music, or have an instant connection to animals. All I’ll ever be able to do is wonder because I’ll never have our child.”
I squatted down and took her hand, glancing to Foster for guidance, but he was taken aback by what she shared and stared at the ceiling, fighting back tears, but failing.
“Cinn, you know if you want to have a child of your own, you could always get a surrogate to carry it. The baby would have both of your genetics and you would have living, breathing proof of your love. I know it’s not the same as being pregnant and going through those milestones, but my guess is it wouldn’t matter as much to you when you’re watching your baby on the screen of an ultrasound, or when they lay your baby in your arms. The body is a vessel for a few months, but the heart is forever.”
She finally glanced up at me, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “When did you get so smart, little brother?” she asked, putting her arms around my neck. “Thanks for putting up with me being an emotional wreck right now.”
Foster trudged over and sat next to her on the couch, putting his arms around her when she let me go. “I want you to promise us right now you won’t put your health at risk ever again. Now I know you were doing it for me, and I’ll carry guilt about making you think you had to hide your illness from me forever. I can’t lose you, Cinn. My heart can’t handle holding you while you vomit and cry out in pain because everything hurts. When I hold you in my arms and you’re shivering in pain, I feel impotent and useless to help or comfort you. I would give up my life for you. Do you understand?” he asked, shaking her gently. “If the good Lord gave me the option to die for you to live healthy, I would do it, because I love you unconditionally and without regard for my own life. Do you understand me?” he asked, crushing her to his chest.
While he hugged her, I got up and opened the door. Brutus was scratching to come in and he waltzed in, immediately homing in on Cinn. He sat next to her and rested his big head in her lap. She absently stroked his head, as though they depended on each other all the time. It was his job to calm her and he took his job seriously.
“I’ll go so you can rest. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow at Cat’s gallery showing,” I said, ready to close the door.
Foster wiped his eyes and pointed at the item I had picked up off the floor and planned to take back to my truck. “What did you bring?”
I set it back down on the floor and motioned to it. “It’s myI’m sorry I’m not a nice brothergift for Cinn. I had planned to give it to her before the Battle of the Bands, but thought maybe now would be a better time. The other parts are in my truck.”
“Other parts?” Cinn asked excitedly, forgetting about her pain for a moment. “What did you do?”
“Remember last year how you had a problem holding the bass because you’re too small?” she nodded and I set the item wrapped in a bag by the couch. “It took me some time to figure it out, but I think I solved the problem.”
She leaned down and tugged the bag off the foot high, curved wooden base. She gasped and Foster picked it up, turning it every which way so she could get the full effect.
“Lorenzo, this is stunning, but what is it?” she asked and I chuckled, taking it and setting it back on the floor.
“The curve is where the bottom of the bass rests while you’re playing it. The V on the back is what the neck rests on when you aren’t playing it. For instance, Foster could take the bass out for you and leave it on the stage, propped in the base. As soon as you’re ready to play, you grab the neck and push it forward. Now it can rest in the base and you can play it without needing someone to hold it. As long as you don’t let it touch the V on the back while you’re playing, it won’t change the tone of the instrument.”
“How do you know all this?” she asked, still inspecting the carving on the wood.
“Let’s just say I’m now a close personal friend of Tucker at the music shop.”
She laughed and the sound was music to my ears. If nothing else, all the hours of work I put into it had been worth her one moment of levity.
“Gosh, Lorenzo, this is a work of art. It looks exactly like the bottom of a real bass.” She paused for a moment and pointed at the center of the velvet padding. “You even made the right size diameter hole for the endpin assembly. Do these carved edges hook onto the c-bouts?” She pointed at the filigree pattern on the curved stand.
I paused, unsure of what she meant. “Are C-bouts the same as the waist?” I asked and she nodded. “Okay, Tucker helped me with everything, but terminology is not my strong suit. He gave me the measurements and I designed the protective measures to keep it from falling out of the base when you aren’t playing it. Yes, the edges hook onto the bass and the V on the back is there simply because I’m paranoid about being responsible for the demise of an expensive instrument. It shouldn’t be necessary, but it’s extra protection to make us all feel better.”
She grinned and stood, hugging me around the waist. “You always know how to cheer me up, brother.”
I rubbed her back a few times and kissed her cheek. “Hopefully this year you won’t have to have your husband hold it for you, not that he isn’t a fantastic assistant.”
She glanced back at the stand and shook her head. “I think this will do just fine. Now I need to grow about a foot and I’ll be all set.”
I laughed, tickling her side lightly, so I didn’t bother her stomach. “I have a solution to you being a shrimp. I’ll go get it.”
I left the house and jogged to my truck. I lifted out the tall, wooden stand from the front of the cab and hadn’t even gone a quarter of the way across the yard before Cinn was squealing.
“Lorenzo! What did you do?” she asked, her breath catching as she inspected the stand.
“Come in and check it out,” I encouraged her, setting the music stand on the floor.
