Alice

The moment the little girl spots Tenney, she freezes and switches on a lamp for a better look. She looks about Aubrey’s age, small and swallowed by an oversized black t-shirt reading “HARD AS NAILS!” in lightning-bolt letters, her short hair tucked behind her ears. Tubes run into her nose, an IV disappears into one thin arm, and cords tether her to a rolling oxygen tank beside her chair. Dark circles ring her eyes. Worried she’s been caught playing music too loud, she silences the tablet before Tenney can answer.

She introduces herself as Alice, wary at first, but her guard drops once Tenney explains she only followed the music. The song is a gift from her friend Logan, and it’s become her favorite thing in the world. Tenney can hardly believe something she wrote could be anyone’s favorite anything. When Tenney gives her name, Alice’s eyes go wide, since Logan has told her about Tenney and his band. She repeats one of his notes, that Tenney’s pace could stand to be snappier, in exactly Logan’s tone. It makes Tenney smile.

Alice explains that Logan came by one morning to collect her breakfast tray, noticed the chipped guitar leaning against her side table, and offered to play something. He’s kept coming back ever since, teaching her chords and telling her she gets better every time. She’s only been playing since last year, but she loves it, her thin face lighting up. She reaches for the guitar to prove it, but a rough cough overtakes her before she can lift it. It shakes her whole small body. She curls her knees to her chest and presses an oxygen mask to her face while Tenney sits close by, waiting until her breathing steadies.

Once Alice can talk, she admits, almost in a whisper, that this is her eleventh stay in the hospital. Tenney can’t hide her surprise, and Alice’s expression turns fierce in an instant. She doesn’t want anyone’s pity.

Still eager to share her music, Alice grabs for the guitar again. It swings wildly until Tenney catches it, knocking a stack of books off a side table. The noise brings Mason to the door, and Tenney introduces him before strapping the guitar on herself. She promises Alice a brand-new song, one even Logan has never heard, and plays “Someone Who Believes,” soft at first and rising into something stronger. Alice grips the arms of her chair, listening through every verse.

Tenney is partway into the bridge when a voice behind her says her name. Logan stands in the doorway in his blue work coveralls, stunned to find her there. Before he can ask what’s going on, Alice cuts in and insists the two of them sing “Reach the Sky” together. Logan flushes but agrees, settling onto the couch with the guitar while Tenney sits beside him. He opens the first verse, his eyes drifting to hers on the chorus. By the second verse he nods for her to take the lead. Their voices weave together the way they used to at Cumberland Park, trading the melody back and forth until it fades into a breath of silence. Alice’s clapping breaks the quiet, thrilled, wishing aloud that she could see them perform in concert.

The comment makes Logan uneasy. He explains he has to get home to watch his younger brother, Jude, and only has a minute. Tenney works up the nerve to stop him anyway. Mason offers to keep Alice company with her guitar. Logan and Tenney step into the hallway, past speckled tile and painted murals, to a small sitting area by a window.

They both start talking at once. Logan apologizes first, admitting he overreacted and was humiliated the day Tenney came by with Portia. Tenney apologizes right back, wishing he had told her sooner what was going on. Logan confesses he assumed she wouldn’t understand, since her family seems so put together. Tenney assures him it isn’t, though she admits she knows how lucky she is that it’s his dad away on tour, not her own.

Slowly, Logan opens up about how hard things have been since his dad left, how he’s tried to bury the feeling under work, and how sometimes he’s angry enough that part of him doesn’t want his dad to come home. His chin quivers as he says it. Tenney tells him music doesn’t fix any of that, but it helps, and reminds him he doesn’t have to carry it alone. Playing together taught her the same lesson. She admits she used to think being a real songwriter meant doing everything herself, until Logan showed her that leaning on someone else makes both people stronger. Logan’s face breaks into a real smile, maybe his first in weeks. Tenney hugs him, and he hugs her back.

Walking toward Alice’s room, Tenney admits she never signed her solo contract, so their old one still stands. She’d love to keep playing with him. Logan looks torn. He loves it, too, but Zane needs a bandmate who can commit 110%. Between his dad gone and Jude needing him, that isn’t him right now. They agree they can’t be an official band again. Still, nothing stops them from jamming and performing together sometimes. Logan promises he’ll play with her anytime.

Back inside, Alice has an idea ready before they even sit down. Every Saturday, the nurses gather the ward’s kids at the Gathering Place for lunch and a movie, always one they’ve already seen. Why not have Tenney and Logan perform live instead, next weekend? She presses a call button on the wall, and Nurse Jim, round and cheerful in purple scrubs, appears at the door. He loves the idea before Alice even finishes explaining it, certain Dr. Farkas will, too, since live music could lift the whole ward’s spirits. Alice turns to Tenney and Logan and asks if they’ll really do it. They glance at each other and answer at the same moment, in perfect harmony: yes.