Against his father's advice, Ephram moved into a one bedroom apartment with Madison. So, on a clear Sunday February afternoon, he sat at a second-hand piano he'd purchased from some guy while she lay in bed. For twenty minutes, he practiced in silence until he heard her call his name.
His first impulse was to ignore her and keep playing, but in the end he decided to put on his jacket, grab his sheet music, and go to his father's house. Lately, she'd come to hate his playing. He tried to be understanding. He knew she was still devastated over the miscarriage. Some days she didn't get out of bed. Other days, she just sat still staring out the window for hours. Then there were the rages and fits of anger. She screamed at him, cursed him, hit him, and told him that he'd ruined her life. Then she'd cry on his shoulder.
After walking for twenty minutes, he finally spotted his father's house in the distance. Though they had had their share of problems, Dr. Andrew Brown had been his greatest ally through this ordeal. Walking up the house steps, Ephram pulled out his key. As a sign of maturity, he'd tried to return it on the day he'd moved out, but Andy had insisted he keep it, a symbol that he'd always have a home with him and Delia.
Turning the key in the lock and stepping across the threshold, Ephram could smell spicy chicken wafting from the kitchen. He pulled off his jacket, kicked off his shoes, and made his way down the hall.
Standing at the stove was Andy dressed in jeans and the tan cable-knit sweater Delia had given him for Christmas. Delia sat at the kitchen counter dressed in jeans and a red t-shirt.
"Don't tell me," Ephram said from the doorway, "your famous chicken fajitas."
"Ephram," Andy and Delia said in unison. "They're almost done if you want to stay for dinner," Andy added.
"Thanks. Also, do you mind if I use the piano?"
"Of course not, it's yours. How is Madison?" Andy asked, concern clouding his face. He knew about Madison's mood swings, the depression. He'd suggested that she seek some counseling but she'd insisted she was fine.
"Not so good. She's been in bed for the past two days. When I try to talk to her, she's unresponsive. I'm really worried about her."
"Can't you have her committed to a mental hospital like they do in the movies?" Delia asked.
"It's not that easy, honey," Andy responded as he spooned out some sautéed chicken strips smothered in a spicy red sauce onto waiting flour taco shells. He picked up the two plates in front of him and handed one to Ephram and placed the second in front of Delia. Next, he walked over to the refrigerator, opened it, then took out a tray filled with toppings – bowls of shredded cheese, red and green salsa, diced tomatoes, shredded lettuce, and sour cream. "Dig in," he said.
For half an hour, Ephram sat at the kitchen table with his father and little sister eating dinner like old times. How he missed moments like this.
After dinner, he sat at the piano and practiced while Andy sat across from him in his favorite overstuffed chair reading The New York Times, while Delia sat upstairs talking to a friend on the telephone.
#################
Slamming her locker door shut, Amy Abbott slowly made her way down the hall to class. After rounding a corner, she stopped. Standing outside her classroom were her parents. Obviously, something was wrong, but what?
Bright, an image of him flashed through her mind. She rushed up to her parents. "Where's Bright? Is he okay?"
"Stay calm," her father said. Her mother moved next to her and put her arm around Amy's shoulders. "Bright's been in an accident."
Fear and dread gripped her. She could taste bile rising through her throat and into her mouth. Bright. Accident. Suddenly, thoughts of Colin flooded her mind. "What happened?"
Harold Abbott sighed. "He was goofing around, climbing a pipe along the side of a friend's apartment. The pipe pulled away from the wall and your brother fell three stories."
"Oh my god," Amy said as her body began shaking with fear. "Is he, is he …?" She couldn't bring herself to ask the one question that was foremost on her mind.
Sensing what she meant, her mother drew her close. "No, no," she said.
"We'd better get going," Dr. Abbott said as he led them down the hall and out of the high school.
############################
Amy sat next to Bright's bed, his hand in her's. She hated hospitals. Unfortunately, for the past year, she'd been in and out of them. In fact, when she'd come to visit Bright, the nurses had looked shocked then sympathetic, having recognized her from all those months she'd visited Colin. Her father had just left to attend to a sick patient at his office, and her mother had business at city hall. Though Bright was out of the coma, he'd injured his spinal cord when he'd fell; thus, there was a possibility he'd never walk again.
Damn, damn, damn, Amy thought as she wiped tears from her eyes with her free hand. Things had really started looking up for Bright. He was doing well at junior college and he'd even began making plans to transfer to Colorado State so that he could play football. But now, Amy thought as she dropped his hand to smooth back her hair.
Suddenly, she heard a throat clear from behind her. Startled, she jumped then turned toward the doorway. Ephram. Quietly he asked, "Is he okay?"
Looking toward Bright, she could see that he was still asleep. The painkillers, she thought. She stood, then motioned for Ephram to follow her out of the room. Once in the hallway, she answered his question, "As well as can be expected … considering." Ephram looked older to her somehow, more mature. He was still handsome though. She'd forgotten how much so since she'd dedicated her life to actively avoiding him. In fact, this was the first conversation they'd had since he'd told her about Madison.
"How are you holding up?" he asked. "Do you want to go someplace to talk?"
"Thanks," she said. Silently, they made their way to the hospital cafeteria. After buying coffee, they took seats at the back. "It's just so unfair," Amy said as soon as they sat down. She began crying.
"Hey," Ephram said as he instinctively reached across the white Formica table and placed his hand on top of her's. "Bright's a fighter. If anyone can get through this, he can."
"You're right," Amy said as she futilely tried to wipe away the tears.
Even during her pain she looked beautiful, Ephram thought as he continued holding her hand.
Though she didn't say anything, Amy was very much aware of Ephram's hand on her own. She knew she should probably pull away but it felt so comforting.
Sensing her turmoil, Ephram hesitantly scooted his chair closer to her's and put his arm around her. In turn, Amy leaned her head on his shoulder. She knew Ephram had a girlfriend, but she'd spent all her life doing and being what everyone else thought she should do and be.
She'd tried being the perfect daughter for her parents, especially her father. She'd tried to be the perfect girlfriend to Colin, the perfect friend to Laynie, and the perfect sister to Bright. Yet, in the end, she'd mucked everything up and lost herself in the process.
She knew snuggling up to Ephram was wrong, but she didn't care about being right or perfect anymore. Colin's death and Bright's accident had finally taught her one thing – tomorrow was not promised, one had to go after what one wanted today. And today, she wanted to be with Ephram Brown.
Without warning, she lifted her head and kissed him on the mouth. He jumped back, a look of shocked confusion on his face. "'What was that about?" he asked, his voice cracking.
"I just felt like doing it," she said, looking him squarely in the eyes. "There's something undeniable between us. You feel it too. Don't you, Ephram?"
Mixed feelings rose inside him. At one time, he'd wanted Amy so badly, it physically hurt. "I'm with Madison now," he said then swallowed hard.
"Do you love her?" Amy asked as she touched the side of his face.
Did he love Madison? Yes. Was he in love with her? No. But Madison needed him and he couldn't, wouldn't, abandon her now. "I should go," Ephram said standing up. "Tell Bright I came by." He turned to walk away, but Amy grabbed his arm.
"I'm not going to wait forever," she said.
"I know," Ephram said jerking away from her. He then made his way across the cafeteria and out the doors.
##########################
An hour later, Ephram climbed the stairs to the second floor apartment he shared with Madison. The Amy thing still unnerved him but he had to put it out of his mind. Standing outside the door, he could hear faint music. Quickly, he put his key in the lock and pushed open the door. In the middle of the room was their round little table covered in a white table cloth with lit candles and flowers in its center. Dazedly, Ephram stepped across the threshold and closed the door behind him. The lights were dimmed and the smell of lasagna permeated the room.
"Madison," he called out as he took off his jacket then hung it on the back of a chair. A few seconds later, she stepped out of the bedroom dressed in a black, silk, strapless dress. Ephram's breath caught. He'd forgotten how beautiful she was. "Wow," he said as he crossed the room.
"Sit down," she said. She stood awkwardly, self-consciously.
As he sat down, she walked over to the kitchen nook and returned with two plates of lasagna. She sat down across from him.
"This is amazing. Did you do this by yourself?"
"No," she answered sheepishly. "Your father and Nina helped me. I wanted to do something nice for you. I know I've been a pain in the ass lately," she said looking away.
"No you haven't. Besides, you've been through a lot," he said reaching out to grab her hand.
"I've decided to take your dad's advice and talk to a counselor."
"That's great."
"We'll see," she said then smiled.
They ate without talking as John Coltrane's "A Love Supreme" filled the tiny room. After dinner, they sat on the couch; Madison curled up next to him, her head on his shoulder, he stroking her hair.
"I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too," he responded automatically.
"No really," Madison said sitting up, looking Ephram in the eyes. "I know this hasn't been easy for you. But I want you to stay … with me."
A million thoughts flooded Ephram's head as his synapses fired. This was it. Madison or Amy? No turning back. Whomever he chose meant giving up the other person forever. He'd wanted Amy from the moment he'd laid eyes on her, but was that enough to sustain a relationship? And Madison? He'd shared stuff with her he'd never shared with anyone else. She understood the real him. And though he had shared some things with Amy, had he shared the truly important things? The things that mattered? After some contemplation, he knew now what he had to do.
Madison had fallen asleep an hour ago, he'd tell her in the morning that he wanted to stay, and he meant it. She knew him, yet loved him anyway. They'd been robbed of their chance to make things work the first time they'd been together, but they'd really had something. He couldn't help thinking of the words to "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac, a favorite of his mother.
"I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I've built my life around you but time makes you bolder
Children get older
I'm getting older too."
He was older now. Life had taken care of that. It was time to let go of childish things and adolescent dreams, and Amy was his ultimate adolescent dream.