Nash disappears in the house, then returns holding a radio. A basic black radio that looks like it's at least forty years old.
"I found this in the living room," he says. "Got some batteries for it when I was at the hardware store." He sets it on the table and turns it on, fiddling with the dials and antenna until a station comes in. Country music fills the air, some girl singing about losing her man.
"You like country music?" I ask.
"I do." He grabs a bottle of beer from the cooler and pops the cap off, then takes a seat next to me, causing the glider to move back and forth. "It's real music. People singing about real problems. Real relationships."
I look at him. "You're kidding, right?"
"So I take it you're not a fan." He swigs his beer.
"Do you ever listen to the lyrics?" I stop and listen to the song that's playing. "She just said she left her man on the side of the road, the same place her sister left him last year. Why would she date the same loser her sister dated and dumped a year earlier? That's not real life."
"Sure it is. I could totally see a girl doing that."
"Why would she do that? That'd be stupid."
"People do stupid shit all the time. Maybe the guy told her he always wanted her and not her sister. Or maybe she dated him just to piss off her sister."
I swing my legs back and forth, listening as the song plays. "I guess that's true. She might've been trying to get back at her sister. Or maybe she always had a secret crush on the guy and couldn't help but be with him after her sister dumped him, even though she knew he was a loser."
"See?" Nash nudges me. "Real life. Real problems." He stretches his arm out along the back of the bench. I assume he's making a move, but then he slides over, putting more distance between us, and I decide he's just getting comfortable. He stretches his long legs out in front of him, gazing out at the back yard. "How about this one? What do you think happened to Emma Sue?"
A new song is playing about a girl named Emma Sue who always wore blue ribbons in her hair. The guy is singing about how he sees blue ribbons everywhere he goes, but he can't find Emma Sue.
"I think she got high on meth, fell in the river, and drowned," I say plainly.
Nash laughs. "What the hell? That's horrible."
I'm laughing too. "I know. Sorry. I don't know where that came from."
"I thought you were going to say something romantic like maybe she had to leave for some reason but was pining away for him until they could be together again."
"Ugh. No. That's way too sappy. I'm going to stick with the meth and drowning story."
He nods. "Well, it could happen. That's real life." He drinks his beer.
We remain there on the glider, coming up with stories for the people in the songs. Nash has some funny ones and I keep coming up with morbid ones, which he finds to be hilarious.
The sun slowly goes down so I know it's getting late, but I don't feel like going home. Sitting in that house. All alone. So I stay with Nash for a little bit longer. We both get quiet and just listen to the music and watch the setting sun.
For the first time in a year, I went hours without thinking about the accident. No images flashed in my head. No questions flooded my brain. And I just realized I wasn't counting. We've been moving back and forth on this glider all night and I wasn't counting. Normally I'd count each time it went forward and each time it went back. I'd do it even without thinking. It's just one of those things I haven't been able to control since the accident. It just happens.
But tonight, it didn't.
Chapter Eight
Nash
"Have a good night," I say as I stand at Callie's door. I walked her home, even though it's only next door. But it's almost midnight so it's dark and I wanted to make sure she got home safely. I held her hand so she wouldn't trip on anything. She tends to trip a lot and I didn't want her foot catching on something, causing her to fall down. I also just wanted to hold her hand. It's small and soft and....I just wanted to hold it.
"Goodnight," she says, closing the door.