When we pulled up to the curb in front of Nana’s house, we all grinned at the rainbow-colored balloon arch over the porch, along with the big sign that read: Congrats on getting sprung, Micah!
“I assume she means sprung from house arrest, but then again, who knows. I wouldn’t put it past her to congratulate you on a boner,” Ash said, which made us chuckle.
“I can’t believe Nana did that,” Micah murmured. “She doesn’t even know me.”
“Sure she does,” I said, as I followed him out of the back seat. “You’re part of her family, just like I am.”
When we reached the front door, Nana flung it open, pulled Micah down to her height and kissed his cheek. “That’s for my theme song.” She pecked his other cheek and said, “That’s for teaching guitar to the kids at the shelter these past several months. It’s meant the world to them.” She kissed the first cheek again and added, “That’s for making my boy Jasper so happy.”
Micah smiled at her and said, “I’m glad I finally got to come for a visit, Mrs. Dombruso.”
“Call me Nana. Now hurry up and follow me. I know you need to get to the airport, but first you’ve got a lot of people who want to meet you.”
There was an entire party happening in Nana’s kitchen, complete with music, more rainbow balloons, about twenty people, and refreshments. The centerpiece was a big sheet cake with the same sentiment as the sign out front. It also included a cartoon portrait of Micah. He leaned in and whispered to me, “Why am I clutching two dicks on that cake?”
I burst out laughing, then said, “I’m pretty sure they’re meant to be prison bars.” I actually had no proof of that, since whoever had done the illustration had rounded the bars at the top, so they really did look like a pair of dicks.
After I snapped a photo of the cake, I followed Nana and Micah around as she introduced him to a few members of her family, biological and otherwise.
Then, while Nana served up some punch, Micah got a text. He stepped aside and read his screen, then sent back a message before returning the phone to his pocket. “That was Arlen,” he told me. “He and his family just got home from their ski trip, and he thanked us for the Christmas gifts we sent the kids. Apparently they were a big hit, especially the comic books.”
Arlen and Micah still had a long way to go in healing their relationship. But the brothers had started texting each other a few times a month, and Arlen had introduced us to his wife and three kids over a video chat. He’d also managed an apology for his part in their falling out, and even though it had come with a load of excuses, it was a start.
Ash handed both of us a glass of punch as he asked, “Now that you and Arlen are on speaking terms again, do you think there’s any chance for a Fallen reunion?”
Micah shook his head. “Neither of us wants the spotlight, and we both feel that part of our lives is best left in the past. But I like being able to play our songs now and actually appreciate them, instead of feeling nothing but regret. In fact, last week I taught my class how to play Evermore during our video lesson, and it felt really good to make new memories with these songs.”
Darwin, who worked at the shelter, chimed in, “I hope you know how much those guitar lessons have meant to your students. They do these great jam sessions now, and I’ve really seen some of the quieter residents come out of their shells. It’s all just been overwhelmingly positive.”
“One of the things I’m most looking forward to when we get back from vacation is finally meeting my class in person,” Micah said.
“Oh yeah, about that,” Darwin said with a grin, as he pushed his dark hair out of his eyes. “Nana has a surprise for you in the living room, and I hear it’s just about ready.”
Just then, Nana reappeared and propped open the kitchen door. “Follow me to the living room, everyone,” she called. “We’ve got a present for our boy Micah.” I’d wondered why the party was in the kitchen, and now it all made sense.
Nana’s living room was still decorated for Christmas. A tall, white tree was centered in the picture window, decorated in brightly colored ornaments that formed a rainbow swirl from top to bottom. It was topped off with a hunky male angel, which had glittery rainbow wings and little red briefs.
Standing in front of the tree were the eleven young people who’d been participating in Micah’s twice weekly guitar lessons over video chat. Each of them held one of the acoustic guitars he’d sent to the shelter. All the instruments had been personalized with beautiful painted symbols and images, which I loved.