How We Deal With Gravity(85)
“Let’s see…what do I have on tap to talk about today,” I say, sitting down in the soft grass next to Ray’s stone. I pull a coffee from Jill’s Donuts out, and place the cup above his name. I always get one for him, too—though I usually end up drinking both.
“Avery’s doing well. She’s opening the place back up tonight. She took the semester off school, and they let her drop her grades until she can pick back up again. I f*ckin’ hate that she had to do that. Sorry, I know you don’t like swearing,” I say, unable to stop my smile while I sip at my hot coffee.
“I’ve been careful with her. You know, like we talked about? But I gotta tell you Ray, I’m afraid we’re falling into a pattern. I visit her, but I don’t stay long. I help out with small things, say hi to Max, maybe play him a song or two to practice on his music program. I feel like I’m just an appointment on her calendar, and I don’t know how to break that cycle. It’s like a giant game of double dutch, and I don’t know when to jump into the ropes. Hell, girls were always better at that game.”
I break off a piece of the donut and toss it in the grass for a couple birds that have gotten used to me. I think they actually wait for me to show up every morning now, too.
“I’m playing tonight. Josh and Matt might join me. There’s a bunch of us—people who you’ve helped over the years. Avery doesn’t know, actually. She thinks it’s just open mic night, but we all signed up for the slots under different names. I guess it’s sort of a tribute thing. Everyone I called wanted in, and then people called more people, and then it just became a thing.”
I lie back and put my hands under my neck, looking up in the branches of Ray’s tree at the birds I just fed. They’re fighting over my crumb, and it makes me feel bad, so I throw them the rest of my donut.
“I’m thinking about doing something crazy,” I say, and I hold silent now for a while, almost like I’m expecting to really hear his voice. The longer I lay there, the less crazy my idea sounds, and I get a funny thought in my head. “I know you know what I’m thinking. You were always two steps ahead of me, so maybe you can just let me know if I’m being stupid on top of crazy. Anything—a sign, or whatever the hell people call it. Just let me know old man.”
I smile in anticipation, and I prop myself up on my elbows, scanning the empty cemetery around me, just waiting for something to happen. The birds continue to pick at my donut, but that’s about the only activity that happens for the next ten minutes, so I decide to give up on my little experiment. I pick up my empty cups and bag, brushing the grass from the back of my jeans when I stand.
“Okay, maybe you’re right—crazy and stupid,” I say, shaking my head with a little laugh. “I guess I’ll see ya tomorrow.”
Once back inside my car, I pull out my phone to check for any messages from Claire or Avery. Seems my handyman services aren’t needed today, and I feel a little sad about it. I drive by Dusty’s to see if anyone’s there yet, but the lot is still empty. I see the Open Mic Night announcement written on the marquee though. I changed the bulbs out last week, one of those nagging things I wished I had done when Ray was still alive.
I keep driving, and as badly as I want my car to take me to Avery’s, I don’t go—I only go when she wants me—at least for now. I make the turn down my mom’s street, and I’m dreading the empty day ahead of me. But just as I’m about to turn the engine off, I hear it—it’s Ray’s sign. Maybe I just want it to be there, but it seems so rare for this to be happening now.
My car radio is tuned to one of the popular stations, the ones that play nothing but the top hits. But for some reason, right now, they’re playing Otis. It’s “Tenderness,” and the words could not possibly be any more exact about Avery. I’m stunned silent; I sit there and listen to every last plea that man makes when he sings—begging me to listen to him, to try what he says, just like Ray would. Before the song is over, I’m actually laughing, and I back out of the driveway to head into the city for the day.
“You sneaky old man, you. You want me to go ahead and try crazy,” I say, my hands playing drums on my steering wheel. “All right, but if this blows up in my face, and I come out looking like an idiot—that’s all on you.”
Avery
“Ave, I can’t find a spot anywhere in the damn lot,” Claire says over the phone.
“Hang on, I’ll meet you out back. I’ll move something so you can get in,” I say, holding the phone on my shoulder while I push a crate in front of the door to hold it open. I see her pulling in, Max in the back seat; I wave and hang up.
I slide two of the trash bins as far forward as I can, and it leaves her just enough room for her car.
“Thanks! I swear, there must be a thousand people here!” she says, holding the back door open for Max. Claire picked him up from school for me today and went through homework at home, knowing how much I had on my plate for tonight’s opening. I’m doing my best to juggle, but it’s still a lot to keep up with. I’m not sure I’ll be able to fit school in the mix.
The dining room is already packed, and there’s a wait, several people deep, just to get a chance to be inside. It looks like I’ll be flipping on the outside speakers for tonight’s gigs.