Chapter 1

River left the hospital through the automatic doors of the drop-off ramp. He didn’t want to walk out with Dale’s parents, who always lingered around him like bees, before returning to the parking garage. He’d only come to the hospital this morning because Dale’s mother called him the night before with whines about how he hadn’t been by all week.What was River supposed to say to that? She’d interrogate the nurses if he lied. If it were three months ago, he would have still been in denial, telling himself it wasn’t like he didn’t want to visit Dale, but it took a lot of energy and staring at his sleeping face wouldn’t change anything.

But now he didn’t bother with those thoughts. The plain truth was he didn’t want to see Dale anymore. He didn’t want to listen to Dale’s mother sniffle. He didn’t want see another pair of sympathetic doctor eyes. He didn’t want any more casseroles from friends, any more just checking in on you, dearcalls from his parents, and he especially couldn’t stand another look at the same boring expression on his comatose husband’s face.

River stepped left so the sun was in his eyes, shifting between parked cars until pavement turned into the mulch-littered stone of the hospital garden. He’d go back to his car later; right now he just needed to move his body. The two-person wide path wound as a lopsided figure eight. The slight curves were effortless to follow, especially lined with bunches of overgrown yellow tulips and purple catnip and pansies like breaths of Easter. By the time he neared the middle where the path crossed itself, the parking garage in the distance was out of sight. Nine-thirty was still early in the morning for patients to be outside, but someone was playing “Your Guardian Angel” on an acoustic guitar and he smiled at the fact that he remembered the cliché words. Each strum tugged him closer until he was looking at the top of thin, cream-colored hair swirled with natural highlights and feathery ends. The man strummed on a blue Rouge, legs crossed over the lone white metal bench at the cross-section. A tall, khaki hiking backpack and an empty gold, velvet-lined guitar case nestled against his feet.

When River approached, the man looked up, excitement tugging at his lips. A few more strums later and he was done, closing the guitar in its case.

“Hey. Sorry, the mood struck me. Are you a patient or just visiting?” The young man’s voice carried a naturally familiar tone, making River feel as if they already knew each other.

“Visiting, I have a name tag pass.” River tugged his fleece jacket to point out the obvious where his name was printed above the hospital logo.

“River? Sounds like a hippie name. I’m Luke.” He offered his hand.

River smirked coyly and shook it. “Isn’t that name a bit godly?”

“You got me!” When he smiled his mouth was unusually wide and River could see his teeth’s perfect curves.

“Are you…?” River didn’t want to be intrusive, but Luke asked him first so he should be able to satisfy his curiosity, too.

“Visiting? A patient? Nope, I just spent the night here, so here I am.”

“Wait, are you being serious?” River shook his head at the absurdity. “You mean at the hospital, right?”

“No, no, here on this bench. I got into town late last night and everything looked closed. Anyway, how much crime really happens right next to a hospital?” He shrugged and latched the guitar case closed, leaning it upright against his side of the bench. He gestured with a tilt of his head to the spot on his left. River sat cautiously so his elbow touched the opposite armrest from Luke.

“That’s insane. You don’t just sleep on a bench.”

“Well, I’m used to sleeping on floors sometimes, too.” He tossed the words casually. “It’s been a few years since I’ve been in the same town for more than two months.”

“Are you…homeless?” River proceeded with caution.

“Come on, I knowI don’t look homeless. I just travel.”

“You’re kind of young for retirement.” He got Luke smiling with the joke. Too bad for River because the smile was contagious.

“Hey, that all depends! Some people retire young. But I’m likely older than you.”

River shifted his body against the armrest so he could face Luke better, looking him over from his dark wash jeans to his narrow face. He looked barely twenty between his round-top cheeks and low V hairline. But his eyes felt weathered with their complex gaze. Meeting his irises was like falling straight into a glittering, viridian sea and while the water was sweet and warm it also tousled him to the beat of a distant roar.