Charlie sits at the bench, barely moving his hand, not changing his fingering until I see a flash of motion out of the corner of my eye and Michael dashes into the room to boot my youngest brother away and claim the bench for himself.
My scholarship applications become easier to focus on without the repetitiveness of Charlie’s compositions.
Eventually, though, I’m required to look up from my computer screen and adjust my slowly stiffening body to give Michael requested advice. I sit patiently as he goes through his act for the talent show.
I return to focusing on my scholarship and concentrate on not panicking at how close the deadlines approach. I would say my mouth is dry from the nerves but instead it is sticky sour-sweet from Easter candy.
My tailbone has officially gone numb by the time Michael moves into pieces that were not to be included in the talent show performance. I shifted on the upholstered couch from ten years ago and leaned back to listen.