Behind the Bars

by Brittainy Cherry

  I just pretended it was okay, even though it wasn’t. TJ pretended with me, too, even though he didn’t want to. He believed in me more than I believed in myself, but he wouldn’t push me to open myself up unless I was ready.

  The saddest truth was that I wasn’t certain I’d ever get to that point. I wasn’t certain my voice would ever discover its true magic. I wasn’t certain I’d ever be ready to stare at my cracks and call them beautiful.

  But still, I was happy. It just turned out that every so often, the cloud above me would release a few raindrops—not heavy showers, not a deluge, just a few drops.

  I could handle a few drops. Who was I to complain about a few raindrops when I knew others, like Elliott, were dealing with hurricanes?

  Every person had lyrics in their life that were too painful to sing.

  But others’ lyrics were far worse than my own.

  I was a lucky one.

  I was happy.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Jasmine

  “Got PB&J today, young lady,” TJ said the next week, sitting down beside me after the first half of his performance.

  “I’m pretty sure it was my day to get dinner, seeing how you did yesterday.”

  He shrugged. “My mistake. I’m sure you’ll get it tomorrow. By the way, I think our lesson was good today,” he told me.

  “I feel like I’m letting you down,” I confessed. “I know I’m not giving you my all, and I know that’s my own fault. It’s like I have a mental block.”

  “Give all you can, and I promise you that’s enough. When you’re ready, you’ll be ready. We’re not here to be perfect, so for right now, let’s just be good.”

  “Thank you, TJ.”

  “Any time.”

  We finished eating our meal, and TJ stood up and went back to his music. I stood up to go back to work, but something made me hesitate.

  His sounds were different this time—sad, almost. His music was quieter than before, still beautiful, but more like a whisper. As I got ready to head into work, my heart flew to my throat in panic. TJ’s saxophone dropped to the brick road, the impact intense. The sound it produced when it hit made my skin crawl.

  “TJ,” I whispered, confused as my stare shot up to his. His brown eyes were bugged out and his hands flew to his chest. No… I rushed over to his side as his knees buckled from beneath him. “TJ, no, please…” Tears flooded my face as I wrapped my arms around his body, trying to help him up. He shook in my hold and my tears kept falling, hitting his sweet, scared face. His gaze burned into mine, and I swallowed hard, shaking him, begging for him to stay awake, to stay with me, to not fade away into the night.

  His breaths were heavy. He wheezed and huffed as a crowd formed around us. A few people called 9-1-1, and others shouted, terrified, filled with worry and fear.

  And my voice said nothing.

  It cracked, it burned, and still, no sound came out until I could only say the four words that sat deep in my heart. “Please don’t leave me.”

  The paramedics came and pulled me away. I fought and clawed and shoved them, wanting nothing more than to hold on to TJ. I needed to hold on to him for a little bit longer. I needed to be there when we found out he’d be okay.

  He had to be okay. He was Theodore James, the most talented musician, the most wonderful man, and my friend.

  But they refused to let me hold on to him.

  I watched them relentlessly. I watched them check his pulse. I watched them try to make his heart beat again. I watched them try to save him as they loaded him into the ambulance.

  “Let me come!” I shouted, trying to push my way through, but they wouldn’t allow it. There was no way they’d let me inside, and every second I fought them was a second they could’ve spent helping TJ, so I stepped backward and let them go.

  “Tulane Medical Center,” the paramedic shouted before they closed the doors and drove away.

  As they left, my heart collapsed.

  I grabbed his saxophone, placed it into his case, and hurried down the streets of New Orleans. I couldn’t breathe. My legs forced me to run as I tried to find air to fill and empty my lungs. I raced to the corner, flagged down a taxi, and waited…and waited…and waited.

  Once at Tulane, I rushed through the doors of the emergency room and hurried to the front desk.

  “Excuse me, I’m lo-looking for a man who was just brought in. He had a heart attack or stroke or something on Frenchmen Street, and, and I-I need to know he’s okay.” I fumbled my words, my whole body shaking as I hugged TJ’s saxophone case to my chest.

  “Slow down, slow down. What’s the patient’s name?”

  “TJ—um, Theodore James. He’s in his eighties.”

  “What’s your relation to him?” she asked, typing away at her computer.

  “I’m his friend.”

  She paused her typing and peered at me over her screen. “Any blood relation?”

  “No, we’re just friends.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t give out a patient’s information without an actual connection. All I can tell you is that he was brought in and is in the ICU.”

  “But—”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. That’s all I can say. Do you know any of his family members? Can you get in touch with someone?”

  “I only knew about his wife, and she died. I just, I…” Tears swelled in my eyes, and she reached out and placed a comforting hand on my forearm.

  “Maybe just hang out in the waiting room for a bit to see if a family member arrives?”

  “Okay, thank you.”

  I walked over to a chair in the waiting room and did exactly that—I waited.

  It was going to kill me, the waiting. Whenever I blinked, I saw TJ falling in my mind. His terrified eyes were imprinted on my memory.

  I rocked back and forth, wiping away the few stubborn tears that fell from my eyes.

  Over the past few months, I’d been graced with TJ’s presence, and losing him wasn’t an option. When the waiting became too much, I stood up and rushed out of the building, going to the only place I could think to go.

  “Elliott!” I exclaimed, out of breath as I rushed into Daze. He was sitting in the same booth as the last time, and he looked up with a hard stare my way.

  He stood slowly and shook his head. “I thought I said—”

  “It’s TJ,” I told him.

  “What about him?”

  Tears fell down my cheeks as the words fell from my lips. “I think he had a stroke. He’s at the hospital. I was there with them, but they wouldn’t let me know how he’s doing because I’m not family, and I don’t know if you know anyone we can call or—”

  “Let’s go,” he said swiftly, gathering his notebook and walking past me. “I’ll drive.”

  He led me to his car, and I climbed into the passenger seat. As we drove, nerves swirled in my gut, and Elliott manifested his in his tight grip on the steering wheel. “Was it bad?”

  I started choking on my breath, replaying the look in TJ’s eyes. “Yes.”

  He rubbed one hand on the back of his neck. “We’ll stop by my mom’s house. She’s his medical power of attorney.”

  “He doesn’t have any extended family?”

  “No. Just me and my mom.”

  We didn’t speak any other words, and when he pulled up to the house, he hurried inside to inform his mother of all that was going on. When they came back to the car, Elliott hopped into the driver’s seat and his mother rushed into the back.

  “I can’t believe this,” she murmured, holding a folder, which I assumed contained TJ’s medical records. Her breaths were wild and untamed. “But he’ll be okay,” she told herself. “He’ll be okay.”

  “He’ll be okay,” I told her, echoing her words. “I promise he’ll be okay.”

  “Don’t make those kinds of promises,” Elliott said harshly under his breath, only loud enough for me to hear.

  His mom glanced up for a second and wiped her eyes. “Eli?”<
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  “Yes?”

  “Who is the woman sitting in the front seat of your car?” She cleared her throat. “Is it your girlfriend?”

  My stomach flipped, and Elliott groaned. “What? No. It’s TJ’s friend.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, TJ’s friend. I just wish it were under better circumstances. I’m Laura.”

  I twisted around and smiled at her. “Nice to meet you, too, Laura. I’m Jasmine.”

  “Jasmine,” she said quietly, turning to stare at her son. “Like…Jasmine, Jasmine? Like…Jazz, Jasmine?”

  Elliott’s eye twitched. “Yes.”

  “Oh my God…I didn’t know she was back,” she bellowed. Then she turned to me. “I didn’t know you were back in New Orleans. Eli, how come you didn’t tell me she was back?”

  “Per-perhaps we should f-focus on TJ right now,” he scolded, my heart skipping beats right alongside his stutters.

  “Of course,” his mother agreed. “It’s just surreal, is all.”

  Surreal wasn’t a strong enough word for what any of this was.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jasmine

  The second we arrived at the hospital, Laura rushed to the front desk to get more information after telling Elliott and me to wait for her in the waiting room. We sat beside one another, not speaking a word.

  He made sure to leave a seat between us.

  Every now and then, Laura glanced back at us, giving us a soft smile before turning back to the desk.

  “Okay, thank you,” she told the receptionist. Then she hurried back over, sat down between us, crossed her legs, and smiled. “Sorry, it was a lot to take in.”

  “No worries.”

  “He suffered a pretty big stroke and is having a hard time with his heart.” She must’ve seen the worry in my eyes, because she placed her hand on my forearm. “It’s okay. He’s in the ICU right now, and will be for a few days.”

  “And he’s awake?”

  She shook her head. “Not right now, but he will be. He will be okay.”

  “How can you say that?” Elliott questioned. “How do you know?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” she said softly. She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “But sometimes I have to lie to myself to keep from falling apart. Sometimes lies are the only thing that keep me getting out of bed each morning.”

  The honesty in her confession shook me.

  She lied to herself so she could keep going through life. I knew that feeling all too well.

  She cleared her throat, and her gentle eyes met mine. “He’s going to be okay, right?”

  I nodded. “Right.”

  Hours passed, and TJ was still unstable. After I grew sick of sitting in that chair, I stood up and walked around the hospital for a bit. I called Ray to update him on what had happened, just to have someone to talk to, and he insisted on coming home.

  “No way,” I told him, my hand wrapped around the key necklace. “You have a show in Portland tomorrow.”

  “I know, but over the weeks, I’ve listened to you tell me how important this guy is to you. If you need me…”

  “I’m okay for now, I promise. The moment that changes, I’ll let you know. I just needed to talk to you, I guess.”

  “I’m glad you called, Snow. Always call. I’ll always answer.”

  I agreed, and as we hung up, I headed to the cafeteria and grabbed three coffees. Walking back to the waiting area, I noticed Laura was off to the side talking to a nurse, and Elliott was in the same spot, with his head lowered as he stared at his clasped hands.

  “Coffee?” I asked, handing one his way. “Cream and sugar is already inside.”

  He glanced up then back at his hands. “I don’t take sugar.”

  “Oh, well, here.” I handed him my cup. “I drink it black.”

  “I’m good.”

  “Come on…” I nudged his arm. “We could all use the energy.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Eli…”

  “I said I’m f-f…” He closed his eyes, and his hands made fists. I saw the pressure building up in him the same way it had when we were kids, the panic that was overtaking him as he tried to push out words. “I’m fine!” he snapped, making me jump back a bit. When he looked up and our eyes locked, I saw his truth—not his harsh reaction, but his sadness. He stared at me as if he were walking through a dream, uncertain of what he saw.

  It’s me, though.

  He was seeing me, and I saw him right back, even though he tried to hide.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell…it’s just my words sometimes…”

  I nodded. “I remember.”

  He turned away again and murmured, “Th-thank you, anyway.”

  “You’re welcome.” I sat back down, leaving a chair between us, because I knew that made him feel more comfortable. What probably didn’t make him feel comfortable was the amount of time I spent staring at him, but I couldn’t help it.

  Even with his hardness, he still looked like home.

  I wondered if he kept replaying our kiss in his head like I had the past few weeks. I wondered if I kept crossing his mind the way he crossed mine.

  “Eli,” I whispered, leaning his way. “When we first saw each other…”

  He parted his lips to speak, but then he stopped himself. His hard stare forced every hair on my body to stand up. I didn’t know what to do. My mind began to swirl. I wanted to hug him and hold him and hit him and cry.

  “Listen,” he started coldly. “What happened between us…that kiss…”

  Just then, Laura came back with a bright smile on her face. “I have good news—they said he’s awake. He’s been moved to a room, and we’re able to visit him now.”

  “Is he okay?” I asked, taking my thoughts from Elliott and giving them to TJ.

  He’s awake.

  Those were officially my new favorite words.

  “He is. He has an oxygen mask, so he can’t speak, and his hands are shaky, but he’s awake. He’s doing okay. Let’s go visit.”

  “Yeah.” I let out a deep breath and nodded. “Let’s go.”

  When we arrived in his room, he was already falling back asleep, and we all agreed it would be best to let him sleep through the night.

  “I’ll stay here with him tonight, if that’s okay,” I asked the nurse. She agreed that it was fine. Laura thanked me and gave me a tight hug.

  Elliott grabbed a notepad and scribbled something down, then handed it my way. “My number, in case anything changes.”

  I took it and thanked him.

  As they prepared to leave, Laura walked over to TJ and gave him a small kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be back tomorrow, TJ,” she said softly. “Before you even wake, I’m sure.”

  She released a breath as she walked away, and as she passed by Elliott, I watched him grab her hand and squeeze it for comfort.

  Laura looked up at her son, and tears started rolling down her cheeks. She seemed thrown off by the small touch—stunned.

  “I’ll drive you home,” he whispered.

  “Thank you.”

  “Of course.” He walked to TJ and gently touched his shoulder. As he stared down at the older man, his mentor, his family, Elliott’s eyes softened for a split second. Then, he stepped away and turned to me. “Jasmine.”

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t say a word, but there was a small nod of appreciation, and I read it loud and clear.

  “You’re welcome, Elliott.”

  They left, and I made myself comfortable. In the middle of the night, TJ awoke, and when he saw me, he tried to speak, but he couldn’t. His hands moved to the oxygen mask, which he tried to remove, but I stopped him. I rushed to his side to soothe him, taking his hand in mine. “You’re okay, TJ. You’re okay. You’re not alone.”

  He began to breathe a bit easier, and his eyes slid shut. When I was certain he was okay, I allowed mine to do the same.

  Chapter Thirty

  Elliott


  I arrived back at Daze around five in the morning. When I walked inside, I glanced at the back booth where I always sat, and I saw Jason sitting there with a bottle of Jim Beam and two glasses. His head was down and he was sleeping, so I walked over and tapped him.

  He stirred for a moment before rubbing the palms of his hands against his eyes. “Hey,” he said as he yawned.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Waiting for you. How’s TJ?” he asked, taking the bottle of whiskey and pouring it into the two glasses.

  “He’ll be okay,” I said, sitting down across from him.

  “What about you? Are you okay?” He slid me the glass.

  My hands wrapped around it, and I shrugged. “I’m always okay.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know, but between you and me…are you really, though?”

  I grimaced and swirled the whiskey around. “He could’ve died.”

  “He didn’t.”

  “But he—”

  Jason reached across and placed a hand on my forearm. “He didn’t, buddy. He’s still here.”

  I nodded slowly. He’s still here.

  “I c-can’t even remember the last time I saw him before today,” I confessed, my chest tight. “How shitty is that?”

  “I think we’re all just doing the best we can, brother. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  But how could I not? I’d almost lost one of the closest people to me, and I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d seen him, the last words we’d spoken. TJ had spent his life taking care of my family, and I walked away from him as if it were nothing.

  He could’ve died, never seeing me again.

  “Don’t worry about yesterday, Elliott. You were given another chance. You can still show up tomorrow.”

  I frowned, shooting back the whiskey. “You can go home.”

  “Meh.” He shrugged. “I kind of already made myself comfortable here. Plus, Kelly hates my snoring.” He nudged my arm one last time. “Are you okay, Elliott?”

  “No.” I shook my head, and for the first time in years, I spoke the truth. “Not tonight.”