tried to fill the conversational void.
“Are you coming to the concert on Saturday?” she asked. “My kids are performing for the fourth of July. Well, the third. Everyone was too busy on the fourth.”
There was something a little sweet about how she said, “My kids,” and I couldn’t help but smile. She had been spending some of her free time volunteering with the summer arts and music program – something else she probably hadn’t told her father about. The program was made up largely of college-aged volunteers supervised by a handful of paid employees who set the curriculum. A sliding fee structure ensured that any child could attend.
“I saw something about it in the paper,” I said.
Madison winced. “Yeah, my father saw it.”
“I’ll be there.” I hadn’t been sure before, but seeing that look on her face, I knew I would go. “Will you be singing too?”
She shook her head. “No. The kids have been trying to... but no. This is just for the kids to show off what they’ve been doing all summer.”
I was about to comment on what a rare treat it would be to hear her sing, when Evan’s cell phone rang.
“Hi, Dad.” Evan listened for a while, his face growing darker with each passing second. I stared at his profile, trying to guess what was going on that had him looking so forlorn. When he hung up, he sat in silence, ignoring the rest of the food on his plate.
I glanced at Madison, who had also stopped eating. Actually, from the looks of it, she had barely started in on her salad. She would go through phases lasting up to a week where she would order salads instead of her usual cheeseburgers. I assumed she was trying to diet, though I had no idea if it ever worked. To be fair, I didn’t think she had gotten any bigger since our junior year of high school, but I didn’t think she had gotten any smaller, either.
“Are you okay?” I asked, finally breaking the silence, if not the tension.
Evan nodded, then turned to face me fully. “I need your help.”
“Now?” I asked.
“Yes, as soon as we’re done here.”
“She can’t,” Nicolas said. “She’s already got things to do this afternoon.”
The two men squared off, brown eyes locked on blue ones. I could see, even if they couldn’t, that each thought his own need the greater.
“Stop it, you two,” I said. “Evan, what’s this about? I’m sure we can work something out.”
“I’m not,” Nicolas muttered. His fingers had stopped their drumming, but his face was dangerously red.
Madison bit her lip, shot me an anxious look, and grabbed her fork. Suddenly, her eyes popped and her hand spasmed, launching the utensil across the table until it clattered against Evan’s plate. Then she let out a high-pitched squeak of pain, and clenched her hand to her chest as tears began to swim in her eyes.
“Oh, crap,” Nicolas said.
I knew instantly what had happened. Anger had caused his gift to get out of control and heat the fork, which had been right next to his drumming fingertips. From the look on Madison’s face, it had done a number on her.
“Let me see,” Nicolas said.
Madison shook her head, whimpering.
“Madison,” Nicolas said, more gently, “let me see.”
She looked at me for help, and I gave her an encouraging nod. “Let him. He’s an expert on burns.” He pretty much had to be.
Reluctantly, Madison lowered her hand and let Nicolas pry loose her clenched fingers. Even from across the table, I could tell that the nasty second degree burn was beginning to blister.
“I’ve got something in my bag to treat this.” Nicolas let go of her hand and grabbed the backpack he used to transport common tools he liked to keep with him at all times.
Madison looked like she wanted to argue, but instead she nodded, once. Then, in a rare show of bravado, she said, “You don’t make any sense. The guy saved your sister’s life, but you’re acting like a real jerk.” She immediately pulled her hand back and turned
“Are you coming to the concert on Saturday?” she asked. “My kids are performing for the fourth of July. Well, the third. Everyone was too busy on the fourth.”
There was something a little sweet about how she said, “My kids,” and I couldn’t help but smile. She had been spending some of her free time volunteering with the summer arts and music program – something else she probably hadn’t told her father about. The program was made up largely of college-aged volunteers supervised by a handful of paid employees who set the curriculum. A sliding fee structure ensured that any child could attend.
“I saw something about it in the paper,” I said.
Madison winced. “Yeah, my father saw it.”
“I’ll be there.” I hadn’t been sure before, but seeing that look on her face, I knew I would go. “Will you be singing too?”
She shook her head. “No. The kids have been trying to... but no. This is just for the kids to show off what they’ve been doing all summer.”
I was about to comment on what a rare treat it would be to hear her sing, when Evan’s cell phone rang.
“Hi, Dad.” Evan listened for a while, his face growing darker with each passing second. I stared at his profile, trying to guess what was going on that had him looking so forlorn. When he hung up, he sat in silence, ignoring the rest of the food on his plate.
I glanced at Madison, who had also stopped eating. Actually, from the looks of it, she had barely started in on her salad. She would go through phases lasting up to a week where she would order salads instead of her usual cheeseburgers. I assumed she was trying to diet, though I had no idea if it ever worked. To be fair, I didn’t think she had gotten any bigger since our junior year of high school, but I didn’t think she had gotten any smaller, either.
“Are you okay?” I asked, finally breaking the silence, if not the tension.
Evan nodded, then turned to face me fully. “I need your help.”
“Now?” I asked.
“Yes, as soon as we’re done here.”
“She can’t,” Nicolas said. “She’s already got things to do this afternoon.”
The two men squared off, brown eyes locked on blue ones. I could see, even if they couldn’t, that each thought his own need the greater.
“Stop it, you two,” I said. “Evan, what’s this about? I’m sure we can work something out.”
“I’m not,” Nicolas muttered. His fingers had stopped their drumming, but his face was dangerously red.
Madison bit her lip, shot me an anxious look, and grabbed her fork. Suddenly, her eyes popped and her hand spasmed, launching the utensil across the table until it clattered against Evan’s plate. Then she let out a high-pitched squeak of pain, and clenched her hand to her chest as tears began to swim in her eyes.
“Oh, crap,” Nicolas said.
I knew instantly what had happened. Anger had caused his gift to get out of control and heat the fork, which had been right next to his drumming fingertips. From the look on Madison’s face, it had done a number on her.
“Let me see,” Nicolas said.
Madison shook her head, whimpering.
“Madison,” Nicolas said, more gently, “let me see.”
She looked at me for help, and I gave her an encouraging nod. “Let him. He’s an expert on burns.” He pretty much had to be.
Reluctantly, Madison lowered her hand and let Nicolas pry loose her clenched fingers. Even from across the table, I could tell that the nasty second degree burn was beginning to blister.
“I’ve got something in my bag to treat this.” Nicolas let go of her hand and grabbed the backpack he used to transport common tools he liked to keep with him at all times.
Madison looked like she wanted to argue, but instead she nodded, once. Then, in a rare show of bravado, she said, “You don’t make any sense. The guy saved your sister’s life, but you’re acting like a real jerk.” She immediately pulled her hand back and turned
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