When I hear it like this, in the dark with Well, I realize it’s not a lullaby at all. It’s the saddest song in the world sung to the person three thousand miles away who broke my heart. After it’s over, I turn around. Well has his head in his hands. Is he missing his mom too?

I tug on his hood. He looks up.

“Lou,” he says, his voice pleading, “if you don’t sing in this show, it’ll just break my heart.”

I have never wished for physical contact in my entire life. But right now all I want to do is shove Well into the fire pit.

“Broken hearts make for great acting,” I say, and jerk his hoodie closed. Now he’s just two eyes peering out of a dark hole.

He mimes an arrow to the heart and falls down.

“You’re killing me, Lou. You are absolutely killing me.”

10 There’s No Business Like Show Business

It’s the end of October. The month-anniversary of my car wreck and the last time I saw my mother. The last time I spoke to my mother. I’ve called Joe hundreds more times. And hung up when he answered. What good does it do to check up on her when she’s not checking up on me? Wherever she is, she’s got a phone. Maybe she’s decided to make Tahoe permanent, just without me. Last Saturday, I slid her guitar under my bed. There’s no point keeping it tuned, so why keep it out?

It’s fine though, really. I have my own life now. Ginger and Dan and I even have Taco Tuesdays. She picks up food from a place downtown near her work, and we eat in the living room, watching episodes of Modern Family and trying not to drop queso on the leather couches. I love Taco Tuesday.

Yesterday the weather turned warm again. So today Mrs. Nicky has taken the class outside into the golden sunlight to run lines. I’m sitting on top of a picnic table with the script in my lap. Geneva is lying on her stomach at my feet, drawing a seahorse on her arm. The green in her hair has faded to moss. She looks a little mildewed. But it’s a lovely mildew.

Well is in the shade of the oak tree that grows just outside the entrance to the dining hall. That oak drops acorns on your head like tiny bombs if you’re not careful. It’s also got a perfect curve for your back. You can lean against it forever. These are the things I know because I’ve been here a month. This is what happens when you hang around a place long enough to be more than a traveler passing through.