Andante

CXXXIX

Eddy dug his phone out of his pocket as they started making their way off the field. He'd felt it buzzing while they were sitting against the bench, of course, but he hadn't quite found it in him to say to his sobbing friend: 'hey, hold that thought, I just gotta see who's buzzing me.'
Brett had sent the first message over an hour ago. 

      'Hey bro, howsit? Made it home okay?'

And then there was the next message, sent about fifteen minutes later: 

     'Hey Eddy, you okay?'

Shit. He could just envision Brett now, frantically waiting to hear from him, wanting to be sure he wasn't crumpled up somewhere by the side of the road, not daring to send even more messages in case Eddy's mother would pick up the phone. 
"I'm just going to call Brett, okay?" he told his violist friend. 
Ian nodded, a slight frown flitting over his face. 
"Yeah. Erm, I guess... I guess you can tell Brett, I know you guys have no secrets between you, and... well, I trust him."
"Okay." Eddy heard the relief in his own tone. Of course he would have kept his word, but to not tell Brett something? That would have been tough. 
Brett picked up on the first ring. 
"Hey!"
"Hey. You in your room?"
"Yeah, you can talk."
He explained in soft tones the light version of what had happened, but it was still enough to make Brett go very quiet in shock.
"Jesus." he said when Eddy was done. "Do... do you want me to come over? Can I do anything?"
"Nah, I'm just going to ask my mum if he can stay for dinner, and then I guess he'll head home. I'll call you later when I'm in my room, is that good?"
He couldn't see through the phone, of course, but he knew Brett well enough to feel his nod, to see his eyes, creased with worry behind his dark frames. 
"Of course. I'll be waiting."
Eddy looked around him quickly. No one in sight. 
"I love you."

"Hi, mum." he said demurely a few minutes later, walking into the kitchen with Ian hovering behind him in the hallway. "Erm... can Ian eat here, please?"
His mum turned around from the stove, he could smell the kung pao chicken from here. She breathed in, and suddenly he was pretty sure she'd say no, no way, not after a weekend away, but then she saw Ian behind him. Her eyes widened infenitesimally, so little that he was sure Ian wouldn't see, but he did. Yeah, his mum wasn't crazy. 
"Is he okay?" she asked him in Mandarin, apparently trusting that this very white Australian boy he'd brought home wouldn't speak any. 
"No, not really mum, but I can't say why, I promised. But it would help him to be here a bit, I'm sure." he replied, also speaking his mother tongue, which was forever slightly alien to him. 
Then she nodded. "Of course." she said, in English, and waved her hand to the living room to invite him in. "Dinner is in half an hour." 

He could see Ian relaxing throughout the meal. He ate with chopsticks as if he'd been doing so all his life, although he did cross them when he put them on his plate. Eddy was sure his mum wouldn't mind, though. Ian ate, and chatted to Eddy's mum and his sister quite happily. Then, when everyone was done, he helped take the plates to the kitchen and he offered to stack the dishwasher. 
"No, I'm okay, Ian." his mum said as she started running the water to rinse off the plates. 
Ian nodded. "Okay. Well... thank you so much for having me here, Mrs. Chen. I loved the food."
She turned to him and smiled benignly. "Of course. Come back some time, I will make more kung pao chicken."

Eddy saw Ian to the door and hugged him somewhat clumsily. 
"You come here, yeah, if shit hits the fan again. Promise?"
Ian nodded. "I promise. Thanks for today."
Then he turned and walked off without another word. Eddy stood in the doorway for the longest time, watching his back retreat, offering a prayer to any deity that might be listening to please, please, please take good care of his friend, who clearly needed care badly. Then he walked back into the house, straight up the stairs and to his violin. 
Bruch, he figured as he opened the clasps and touched the wood of the neck. It'd been a while since he'd played it, but it was the perfect thing now, after all he'd heard and seen this afternoon. He put the violin on his shoulder and played from memory, pouring his heart into the weeping tones of the second movement, feeling the rousing thirds of the third movement with every cell in his body, putting all of the emotions in his bow instead of his heart.
After the closing chord he put the violin in its case again and called Brett. He didn't really have the minutes, but Brett would be desperate to know how it had gone, would be wondering whether he was okay. He'd just have to buy some more minutes with some busking money. 

"Hey." he whispered when Brett picked up, knowing he'd have to be quiet or his mum might overhear. "You good?"
"Yes, of course. But tell me, how has it all gone?"
"Okay, I think. He was a lot calmer when he left."
It was quiet for a long moment before Brett's voice came again, even softer now, so quiet Eddy had to strain to hear. 
"You did good, Eddy. I'm really proud of you for helping him like that."