Fix My Feet When They're Stumblin'

Chapter 63

    "Mom? Hey, mom?"

    Tana looked up from the small pile of soapy dishes to find Ammon hovering discreetly behind the doorway to the kitchen, fidgeting nervously.

    He peered past her as she dried her hands and approached him, glancing anxiously at Brandon, who sat at the breakfast nook staring blankly down at the remains of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and then looked back to Tana.

    "Mom, Gunny and I were thinking," he began quietly, wringing his hands and staring back at his father once more. "We were thinking...maybe it would help if we let dad mess around on one of his keyboards? I think...I think maybe he misses it, you know?"

    Tana hissed softly in response, leaning against the wall and watching her oldest son thoughtfully, noticing his brothers peeking surreptitiously around the corner at them down the hall and hiding a smile.

    "I...um...oh, baby, I don't know if that's...it's very sweet of you, but I - well, to be honest, I think he's scared of the band. I don't know if we should...I don't know, Ammon. I mean...we don't even know if he still can play piano. Maybe we should wait a few days, just until he starts therapy, and then run it by them."

    Ammon wilted slightly, dropping his eyes to the tiled floor. "Oh...we didn't think about that...never mind, I guess. We just wanted to help."

    She touched his shoulder and opened her mouth to comfort and thank him, but suddenly a soft voice spoke up behind them: "I'll go."

     Tana turned on her heel so quickly she nearly lost her balance and grabbed for the wall to right herself, gaping at Brandon. He sat exactly where she had left him; across the kitchen at the breakfast nook, blinking owlishly at them.

    "Brandon, I..." Tana gawked helpessly, at a loss for words. I can't very well tell him 'no,' can I? He'd be crushed. But if it turns out he's not capable anymore, he'd...oh, I don't know.

    "Brandon, are you sure? You want to try playing your keyboard?"

    He only nodded, his head tilted slightly in clear confusion as he studied her in return. Tana stared back at him, doubt and uncertainty creating a mire of nausea in her stomach.

    "But - but what if...well, what if you can't?" she asked tentatively, wincing even as the horrible words left her mouth. But it needs to be asked, doesn't it?

    Brandon lowered his gaze, looking silently at the table before him. "Then I...I w-want to know," he finally whispered, bringing his eyes back to her face, his own features strained. "Please. I don't...I d-don't like not - n-not knowing."

    I can't say no to that...damn it. Tana bit her lip, grasping for one last straw. "Don't you want to wait until tonight, until Ronnie is back?"

    He blinked at her, his eyes wide. "Ron went home...r-right? Didn't he...? I d-don't...know."

    "No, you're right, baby - but he just went home for the day, and then he'll be back this evening. He's moving in with us," she rushed to reassure him. Brandon relaxed slightly, obviously reassured that his memory wasn't completely faulty, but shook his head.

    "I want to know," he repeated, his voice quiet but firm. "Please." Tana sighed, her options exhausted, and sagged against the wall in defeat.

    "Alright, then...let's go. Lead the way to the piano room, Ammon - slowly, please," she added pointedly, as her son began bouncing on his heels in anticipation, fighting a smile. He sobered immediately, and waited silently while Brandon carefully got to his feet and joined them at the kitchen doorway.