around and started back to my room.
“Forgot who?”
“My cello. His name is Apollo. You know, the Greek god of music?”
“I thought Apollo was the god of light or the sun or something like that?”
“It’s kind of complicated. He represents a lot of things at different times in Greek culture. But to me, Apollo is primarily the god of music, and thus, my cello is named Apollo.”
“Is your cello a—”
“No, it’s not a Stradivarius.” Eden laughed. “If I had a dollar for every time I was asked that, I could probably afford one, though. It’s a Vuillame.”
“How old is it?”
“It was made in 1832. It’s worth…a lot. It’s been in my family for four generations.”
I was impressed, of course. “Isn’t it…I don’t know, nerve-wracking, playing something so old and expensive?” We reached my room and she grabbed the cello, then stopped, obviously debating how to push my chair and carry the huge instrument at the same time. “Here, just set it up on my good leg. I can hold it with that arm.”
She hesitated. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. It’s heavy, and if it shifted by accident, it could hurt you worse—”
“And damage your cello,” I added.
She shrugged. “Yeah. That, too.” She glanced out into the hallway, saw an orderly ambling toward us with his nose in a cell phone. “Hey, could you help us out? Can you push him for me?”
“Sure.” The orderly was a middle-aged man with receding blond hair and a thick beard. He took the handles of my chair and pushed me toward the elevator. “Where are we going?”
“Room 319,” I said. Ever had been moved to the general ICU a few days ago, until such a time as the doctors decided to move her to a long-term care facility.
I hated being immobile, being helpless. I still needed help getting into a wheelchair, much less anything else. I was dreading having to go home and being alone and unable to do anything. Grams and Gramps had wanted to stay, had insisted, saying I’d need help, but I wouldn’t let them. Why, I wasn’t sure. I knew Gramps needed the ranch, hated being away, and that he wasn’t ready to retire anytime soon, despite being eighty years old and having Uncle Gerry to do most of the day-to-day stuff. He’d probably work until he couldn’t anymore, and even then he’d hate it. He’d probably die on the back of a horse, and I had a feeling that he wouldn’t want to die anywhere else, except perhaps in Grams’s arms. I made them go home, even though I had no idea how I’d shower or get into the bathroom. How I’d get to and from the condo to the hospital to see Ever. How I’d do anything.
The one person who could help was the girl beside me, and something told me that wouldn’t be a great idea. Mr. Eliot, maybe? I snorted.
“What’s funny?” Eden asked, glancing at me.
I wasn’t really all that keen on sharing my thought process, but I supposed I’d have to broach the subject at some point. “I’m just thinking about what I’m gonna do when I’m discharged from this place.”
“What do you mean?”
I shrugged, trying desperately to sound nonchalant. “Well, I’m not exactly…mobile. I’m short an arm and a leg for a while, so—”
Eden frowned down at me as we boarded the elevator. “Cade. You’re family. I know my dad might take some…convincing, but we’re not gonna let you just…you won’t be alone, okay?”
“Thinking about trying to enlist your dad’s help is what made me laugh. I’m not exactly his favorite person, I don’t think.”
Eden made a you’re probably right face, even as she said, “He’ll come around. I’ll make sure of it.”
“You can’t make him like me. I stole his daughter from him.” The orderly glanced sideways at me in shock, then away, back to the opening doors of the elevator.
Eden made a sound of irritation. “The fuck you did. He lost her a long time ago. I wouldn’t even really call what you and Ever did eloping,
“Forgot who?”
“My cello. His name is Apollo. You know, the Greek god of music?”
“I thought Apollo was the god of light or the sun or something like that?”
“It’s kind of complicated. He represents a lot of things at different times in Greek culture. But to me, Apollo is primarily the god of music, and thus, my cello is named Apollo.”
“Is your cello a—”
“No, it’s not a Stradivarius.” Eden laughed. “If I had a dollar for every time I was asked that, I could probably afford one, though. It’s a Vuillame.”
“How old is it?”
“It was made in 1832. It’s worth…a lot. It’s been in my family for four generations.”
I was impressed, of course. “Isn’t it…I don’t know, nerve-wracking, playing something so old and expensive?” We reached my room and she grabbed the cello, then stopped, obviously debating how to push my chair and carry the huge instrument at the same time. “Here, just set it up on my good leg. I can hold it with that arm.”
She hesitated. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. It’s heavy, and if it shifted by accident, it could hurt you worse—”
“And damage your cello,” I added.
She shrugged. “Yeah. That, too.” She glanced out into the hallway, saw an orderly ambling toward us with his nose in a cell phone. “Hey, could you help us out? Can you push him for me?”
“Sure.” The orderly was a middle-aged man with receding blond hair and a thick beard. He took the handles of my chair and pushed me toward the elevator. “Where are we going?”
“Room 319,” I said. Ever had been moved to the general ICU a few days ago, until such a time as the doctors decided to move her to a long-term care facility.
I hated being immobile, being helpless. I still needed help getting into a wheelchair, much less anything else. I was dreading having to go home and being alone and unable to do anything. Grams and Gramps had wanted to stay, had insisted, saying I’d need help, but I wouldn’t let them. Why, I wasn’t sure. I knew Gramps needed the ranch, hated being away, and that he wasn’t ready to retire anytime soon, despite being eighty years old and having Uncle Gerry to do most of the day-to-day stuff. He’d probably work until he couldn’t anymore, and even then he’d hate it. He’d probably die on the back of a horse, and I had a feeling that he wouldn’t want to die anywhere else, except perhaps in Grams’s arms. I made them go home, even though I had no idea how I’d shower or get into the bathroom. How I’d get to and from the condo to the hospital to see Ever. How I’d do anything.
The one person who could help was the girl beside me, and something told me that wouldn’t be a great idea. Mr. Eliot, maybe? I snorted.
“What’s funny?” Eden asked, glancing at me.
I wasn’t really all that keen on sharing my thought process, but I supposed I’d have to broach the subject at some point. “I’m just thinking about what I’m gonna do when I’m discharged from this place.”
“What do you mean?”
I shrugged, trying desperately to sound nonchalant. “Well, I’m not exactly…mobile. I’m short an arm and a leg for a while, so—”
Eden frowned down at me as we boarded the elevator. “Cade. You’re family. I know my dad might take some…convincing, but we’re not gonna let you just…you won’t be alone, okay?”
“Thinking about trying to enlist your dad’s help is what made me laugh. I’m not exactly his favorite person, I don’t think.”
Eden made a you’re probably right face, even as she said, “He’ll come around. I’ll make sure of it.”
“You can’t make him like me. I stole his daughter from him.” The orderly glanced sideways at me in shock, then away, back to the opening doors of the elevator.
Eden made a sound of irritation. “The fuck you did. He lost her a long time ago. I wouldn’t even really call what you and Ever did eloping,
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