He laughed. “Still, it would be nice if we could hear it too,” he said enviously. “I know we can’t do it late in the evening or in the afternoon when people are sleeping or napping, but maybe four or five o’clock before dinner.”
She nodded. “Let me talk to Dani about it.” He nodded and disappeared. When she was done with rounds, she stopped by Dani’s office and mentioned what Shane had said.
“You know what? I was thinking about that too,” Dani said. “I’d love to hear more live music, though I know that we do have some people who aren’t terribly happy about it, but, if we gave them specific times and alternatives, then it’s something they could plan for. But we should pass it by Lance first though,” Dani said.
“I’m sure he’d be fine with it but—”
“But I think we should pass it by him,” Dani said, laughing. “And, by the way, I’m getting the piano tuned too.”
“Wow,” she said. “You know something? Once you do that, you may find you’ve got a bunch of musicians in the place.”
“And that would be fine by me,” Dani said. “I think music is good for the soul. Particularly for anyone like Lance. Getting it back in his life could be a huge motivator.”
“Agreed,” she said. “So let’s hope this works out with everybody.”
“Are you serious?” Lance looked at Dani in delight. “I’d love to have an hour to play on Saturday. I mean, I’d take two or three if I could,” he said, as he held up his hand. “I know an hour is already a lot.”
“It’s not a lot for anybody who likes live music,” Dani said with a smile, “but it’s a lot if you hate music.”
It was hard for him to imagine anybody who hated music, but he knew there had been complaints, so he was grateful for anything. “If you say an hour,” he said, “then so be it.”
“No, I think you’re right,” she said. “I think we’ll switch it to an hour and a half, then see how that goes. I will schedule it for between four and five-thirty on Saturday afternoons, and then people could go for dinner afterward.”
He nodded. “I’d really like that.”
“Are you okay to play in the common room?” she asked. “Then we could make it a bit of a concert. I don’t want to do it here in your room, where you’ll clog up the hallway with people.”
He laughed. “The common room works great,” he said. “I can sit there in my wheelchair or maybe one of the chairs there,” he said. “Honestly, I don’t really know how strong I am or how long I can play.”
“Well, it’s a good time for a test then,” she said, laughing. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” And, with that, she disappeared.
And he realized that today was Friday, which confirmed that tomorrow was Saturday, so he really only had a little over twenty-four hours to plan and to prepare. He brought it up with Shane. “Maybe we could figure out,” he asked him hesitantly, “what’s the best chair for me to do a concert with?”
Shane looked at him in surprise and said, “You know what? That’s a really good idea because it makes a huge difference on your core and your back, doesn’t it?”
“How I sit determines how flexible I am and what I can play,” he said. “I need this arm free, and I must have the ability to stretch this other arm all the way out,” he said.
Shane said, “Let’s grab your guitar, and we’ll work on the different chairs to see which one is best for you.”
“I’ll get my guitar,” he said, as he maneuvered back into the wheelchair.
“Good,” Shane said. “Let’s meet in the common room, and we’ll see what’s there to choose from too.”
By the time he arrived with his guitar in the common room, Shane was looking around at the various chairs, frowning.
“They don’t look so great, do they?” Lance asked.
“It doesn’t look bad though,” Shane said. “How about a stool?”
Lance studied the lower stool and tried it out. He could hook one leg on the bottom railing and could sit with his other leg all the way to the floor for balance. He shifted so that he was sitting upright on the stool and sat for a good five minutes and then winced. “It’s a good idea in terms of guitar-playing,” he said, “but it’s not such a good idea in terms of my hips and back.”
“That’s what I was worried about,” Shane said. He looked over at a big armchair and said, “The arms here are too high for you to play, aren’t they?”
Lance looked at it and nodded.
“This pot chair here has the same problem.” Nearby was an open chair with no arms on the side. “What about something like this?” Shane asked. “You can lean back and get a little support.”
Lance looked at it and laughed. “Are you moving the cat first?”
Shane looked at the cat, smiled, and said, “This is Max. He’s taken over the place, although he hasn’t been here all that long. He’s only got three legs, but nobody told him that he’s any different.” He reached down and scooped up the cat. Max stretched in his arms, completely trusting that Shane wouldn’t dump him. Max gave a little bit of a meow and closed his eyes, relaxing into Shane’s embrace.
Lance looked at the cat and shook his head. “Such innocence.”
“It’s all about trust,” Shane said. “Sit over here and give this a try.”
Once he sat down in that chair, Lance nodded. “This one is perfect.”
“Then let’s shift it,” he said. ‘Where would you like it to be so you can face everybody?”
Looking around, Lance shrugged and said, “Well, how about over there in that corner? Then, as people come in, they can sit wherever they want.”
So, they set that up, and Lance sat there a bit. He really wanted
