Weathered Love

ANDREW

Leah sent me on yet another cold water run. Andrew's fever was taking its sweet time going down, although it was crawling back to normal throughout the day. When I got back to the room, Andrew was nowhere to be seen, so naturally, I asked Leah where he went.

"The stubborn jerk went to get something from his room," Leah huffed.

"He's probably just bored with sitting here," I pointed out. "While he's gone, I just wanted to say sorry about bringing up your dad the other day. I know him passing away was hard on you and I had absolutely no right to bring him up the way I did."

"Did Andrew put you up to this?" Leah narrowed her eyes at me.

"No," I responded. "I overheard you two talking."

"You don't have to apologize," Leah waved me off. "I'm not mad at you for saying it."

"But it wasn't right of me to say," I continued. "I shouldn't have minimized it."

Leah paused from her angry bustling and gave me a pensive look. "It bothered me," she finally stated. "And I appreciate that you're apologizing. But I never was mad at you," she concluded. She gave me a hug to assure me that all was forgiven, then flipped a switch and angrily straightened out the bed.

"Should I get you some cold water?" I jokingly offered. Leah paused then chuckled, understanding my comment.

"I just... I refuse to have anyone get hurt while they're here," she responded.

"You know you have no control over what his body decides to do to itself. Not even the doctors know what to do with him," I pointed out.

"Yeah," Leah sighed. She got a far-off look and I wondered aloud what she was thinking about. "I guess I hate feeling helpless. I'm getting a nursing degree for a reason," she responded.

"Not to be crass, but you know it was never in your power to save your dad, right? It wasn't your fault," I assured her. I noticed her eyes begin to glisten and I slowly approached her.

"What are you doing to me?" she finally whispered. "I don't need a therapy session," she insisted with a humored smile.

"Sorry," I responded, relieved she wasn't actually upset. We both sat down and turned to lighter conversation while we waited for Andrew.

He came back after a short while with a piece of paper that he handed to me. It was the chords for "Are You With Me".

"You're adamant about this," I resentfully murmured. With a heavy sigh, I picked up the guitar and played the first few chords. I physically had to swallow some of the bile in my throat. I wanted to get over the hurt as much as Andrew wanted me to. Maybe even more. But it wasn't so easy, because I just kept thinking of Caleb, the way he hurt me, and the way he tried to show back up in my life during the hardest moment I've ever had to endure and pretended that it wasn't that big of a deal. As if what he did didn't send me into a completely self-destructive spiral. That his sin was something that didn't warrant more than an apologetic shrug, if that.

Leah got up and left the room, I assumed because it was painful for her to listen to my apprehensive playing. Or she needed to get more supplies. I tried to start playing the song again.

"I wanna dance by water 'neath the Mexican sky... Drink some Margaritas by a string of blue lights... Listen to the Mariachi play at midnight... Are you with me, are you with me?" Andrew sang. It seemed his artistic ability didn't extend to singing. I smiled at his attempt, and felt a light tug at my heart, and then a deep calm. I continued to play at that point without any misgivings whatsoever, and I squinted my eyes in suspicion at the witchcraft Andrew had performed on me. He gave me that same, heart-flutter-inducing smile, and I immediately turned my attention to the paper with the chords scribbled on them, giving it my sole focus.