“Well, darling, we don’t have a lot of time,” she says.
Mom flinches. It’s a gut punch.
“We’ll practice after dinner,” Dad says with a reassuring nod. Always my biggest fan and most supportive cheerleader.
It’s not that my mom isn’t too, but she knows what it’s like to feel the weight of the world bearing down on you.
My phone vibrates on the table beside my plate.
“No phones at the table,” Grandma says.
“Sorry.” I wrinkle my nose, removing the phone from the table, but not without taking a quick peek at the screen. It’s another text from Flynn. It shouldn’t make my heart skip a beat, but it does even though I don’t know what it says becauseeveryone is staring at me, so I set it face down on the chair beside me.
“Did you quit your job?” Mom asks. She has a pained expression because she knows I loved living in Minneapolis, and I loved my job.
“Everything is temporary,” Dad says, staring at my mom. “That was your motto when we met.”
She returns a sad smile and a nod. “Yeah.”
“This is temporary,” Grandma says.
We look at her while she chews slowly, blotting her mouth as she swallows. “I won’t live forever. With or without cancer.” She reaches for her water glass. “Promise me you’ll live here even when I’m gone and eat dinner at this table. And every night you’ll toast those who have moved on, say grace even if you don’t worship God. Laugh at the sheer silliness of life. Celebrate the journey because every single second of it is, in fact, temporary.” She raises her glass.
Mom blinks back her tears but lifts her glass. Dad follows suit and so do I.
“To this most spectacular temporary moment,” Grandma says.
We clink glasses, finish eating, and I quickly excuse myself.
“Are you going to practice?” Dad asks.
“Yeah, but I’m going to dry my hair and pull it back first.”
“Okay. Let me know when you’re ready.”
“K.” I snatch my phone and run upstairs to my bedroom.
Flynn: It was a kazoo. I just thought of the word. I played a kazoo
I cover my mouth and snort.
June: I was so close to choosing the kazoo but the cello called to me just a little more
Those three dots feel like the line going up and down on an EKG monitor; their existence feels likeliferight now.
Flynn: I could play row row row your boat
I giggle.
June: My first piano song was hot cross buns. We could have done a mash-up of the two
He sends a laughing emoji.
June: I have to go
Flynn: I have to stay
Is he being funny or heartbreaking?
