Damaged Grump (Bad Chicago Bosses)

He remembers me today.

He remembers, even if he’s calling me Rollie, something I haven’t heard since I was ten years old, and oh, fuck me.

I can’t help it.

My eyes sting and my vision blurs.

Everything runs together into messy bittersweet colors like spilled paint. I do the only thing I can.

I throw my arms around Barrett and hold my brother close.

“You got it, big guy,” I choke out, my throat knotted. “We’ll make as many songs as you want. I brought a friend who wants to meet you.”

Barry finally notices Callie and lifts his head, looking at her curiously before beaming.

“Hi, pretty lady.” He holds both hands out to her. “I’m Barry. What’s your name?”

Callie looks almost stricken, but she smiles so sweetly for my brother and slips her hands into his without hesitation.

Damn. I don’t think I can take anymore because this is too fucking much.

“Hi, Barry. I’m Callie,” she says softly, squeezing his hands warmly.

“Callie,” Barrett repeats with a satisfied sigh.

I offer her a shaky smile.

“He kind of beat us to the punch,” I say. “Anyway, this is my younger brother, Barrett.”

There’s a quiet understanding in her eyes that says I don’t need to say more.

Except I should.

I owe her so many explanations.

I want her to know he wasn’t always like this. I want her to know Vance Haydn did this to him, drove him to a suicide miss that nearly killed him and left him without the music that made his life worth living.

I want her to know how much I love him, that he’s still the most important person on Earth to me, no matter what he is now.

And maybe if life weren’t so complicated, he’s not the only one who could ever share that honor.

Barrett looks so happy to have made a new friend that I can’t break the moment. So I only take a slow, steeling breath and press a hand to his back.

“C’mon,” I say. “Let’s show Callie your cool piano, and you can show her what you’ve learned.”

Barrett never lets go of Callie’s hand as we head inside.

The nurses look shocked that I’ve brought someone, but they say nothing.

Callie’s so gentle as they settle at the piano.

She never says a single awkward thing. Never stumbles on uncomfortable questions.

She just gives Barrett her full undivided attention as they play scales together. Then she delights him by teaching him how to play the first few bars of Moonlight Sonata, showing him the finger-work patiently, over and over again.

I’m mostly silent.

Just leaning against the wall and watching them work.

Now and then, I glance at the indecipherable glyphs on scattered pages, symbols that try to be musical notations but become some unknown language, always scattered with that glaring §14.2.

More than anything, I look at them.

It’s spellbinding.

Sweetness and ruin wrapped up in an invisible fist that plows into my stomach over and over again. The pain is worth it today.

It makes me feel like Callie Landry fits in my life.

Like she belongs here, and she’s meant to stay.

If I ever shrug off the comic book villain bullshit she loves to torment me with, could she ever be part of my family?

I don’t know how I can cut her out.

Especially when Barry practices repeatedly with sheer enthusiasm, and she lifts her head for a moment. That’s when she catches my eye beyond his shoulder with a shy smile that nearly wrenches my heart out.

Fuck.

I have to let her go.

I don’t know how I can.

Barry pulls her back with a hug that jostles her.

“I wanna sing,” he insists, twisting around to face me. “Rollie, sing the song with me! The shoelace song...”

“Shoelace song?” Callie makes an amused sound.

“The knots won’t stay,” Barry says solemnly.

It’s what he always says when it comes to his shoes. I clear my throat.

“I, uh.” Tugging at my collar, I look away. “Barrett—”

“It’s Barry,” he reminds me.

“Barry. He’s never been able to tie his shoes,” I admit. “So I made up a song to help him.”

“About a rabbit with floppy ears!” Barrett’s eyes widen, and he stares at Callie. “Here, I can teach you!”

She lays her hand gently on his arm, smiling so brightly.

“I think I’d like to learn,” she tells him.

And that’s how we spend our lazy afternoon.

Barrett plunking out the simple notes to the shoelace song I made up when we were just kids on his piano and resurrected more recently. He teaches Callie the words about how the rabbit folds its ears, making me sing along to encourage her to join in.

She does.

Freely, wholeheartedly, laughter and warmth twinkling in her eyes as she sings about that damn shoelace rabbit without restraint.

I can’t remember a moment in my life when I’ve ever felt anything this heartbreakingly beautiful.

Of course, it has to end sometime.

Barry gets tired easily when he’s excited. Once his eyes start drooping, his nurse is there to gently lead him away for a nap.