“So ready. I've been working on the pattern you taught me. Want to see?”
We set up in the living room while Finn made tea in the kitchen and Rook settled into one of the armchairs with a book he probably wasn't reading. Jamie launched into the patternimmediately, his hands moving with confidence I hadn't seen a few months ago.
He'd gotten better. A lot better. The rhythm was clean, his timing was solid, and he was feeling the vibrations through the drum instead of just mechanically hitting it. I watched him work through the entire sequence without a single mistake, and when he finished he looked up at me with an expression that was pure hope.
“How was that?“he signed.
“That was perfect,“ I signed back. “You've been practicing.”
“Every day. Gramps says I'm driving him crazy.”Jamie grinned. “But I want it to be really good for the show.”
“It's already really good. But let's make it even better.”
We worked for the next hour, refining the pattern and adding small flourishes that would make his performance stand out.
From the kitchen, I could hear Finn and Rook talking hockey. Their voices had that easy back-and-forth energy that came from people who genuinely liked each other, and I realized with some surprise that they'd become friends. Real ones, not just teammates who tolerated each other.
“—and then Tate fucking tripped over his own skate and took out two guys,” Finn was saying, and Rook's laugh echoed through the house.
“Classic Tate. Did Coach lose his mind?”
“Oh, completely. I thought he was going to bench him for the rest of the period.”
Jamie tapped my shoulder to get my attention back, and I refocused on him. We ran through the performance piece three more times, and on the final run he added his own variation at the end—a little flourish that was pure improvisation and completely perfect.
“Where did that come from?” I signed.
“I just felt like it should go there,” he signed back, looking slightly nervous. “Is that okay?”
“That's better than okay. That's you making it your own. Keep that.”
His face lit up like I'd just handed him the world, and Finn appeared in the doorway with two mugs of tea.
“He's killing it, isn't he?” Finn said, handing me a mug.
“He's a fucking natural. Kid's got rhythm most drummers spend years trying to find.” I took a sip of the tea and watched Jamie pack up the practice pad. “You should be proud of him.”
“I am. Every single day.” Finn's expression went soft in that way it always did when he talked about his brother. “Thanks for doing this. It means a lot to both of us.”
“You don't have to thank me. I love teaching him.”
Jamie came over and hugged me without warning, nearly knocking the tea out of my hand. I hugged him back and signed against his shoulder, “You're going to be amazing at that talent show.”
When he pulled away, he was grinning so wide I thought his face might split.
We stayed for another hour, drinking tea and eating the cookies Finn's grandfather had left out, and by the time Rook and I headed back to the car the sun was starting to set and the air had that golden quality that made everything look softer.
“You looked happy in there,” Rook said as we pulled out of the driveway.
“I was happy. Jamie's doing so well, and Finn's—” I paused, trying to find the right words. “He's good people. I'm glad you're friends.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Rook glanced over at me. “You have plans tonight?”
“Not really. Why?”
“Because I'm taking you on a date.”
I blinked. “A date?”
