-Devin-

Carter spent most of Saturday with me, and after he left my dad sat in my room and worked on a crossword puzzle. Usually he'd be using the downtime to work, but he had so much downtime sitting with me in the hospital that he'd started to read or do other activities. Part of me was glad that me being sick was giving him a break.

I hadn't been able to stop thinking about my own future. The risk of death had a way of putting everything into perspective, and I realized I didn't want to live the rest of my life being a disappointment to my dad while struggling in a career I wasn't excited about.

"Dad? There's something I need to talk to you about."

He looked up at me, and then set his crossword down and scooted closer to the bed. "Is everything okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. This isn't about the cancer, not really. It's just that I've been thinking about my life, and I've decided I don't want to take over the company."

My dad's expression was caught between concern and confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I don't want to be president after you retire. Engineering is fine, but it's not my passion. I've been told my whole life I was going to take over for you and it's a lot of pressure. It's not what I want to do."

Bewildered, my dad sat back in his chair.

"I'm sorry," I continued. "I don't want to disappoint you, but I'm already doing that. I haven't been doing well in the four years I've been working there. We both know it. And I know I'm your only kid and this will be me failing the family and I'm not sure what you're going to do, but I can't keep doing something I don't love. Something I don't even like that much."

I wasn't sure how my dad was going to react, and some selfish part of me hoped that me having cancer would make him go easier on me. Not that I deserved that.

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" he asked.

"I knew you'd be mad and I didn't want you to hate me."

"I would never hate you. I get frustrated with you sometimes, but I only want what's best for you. I wanted to give you a solid career and every possible advantage in life."

"Maybe you gave me too much. I didn't turn out that great."

"Don't say that." Now, he looked sad. "I wouldn't trade you for anything or anyone. I know we've butted heads a lot, but you're my son and I love you."

I found myself getting choked up. My dad and I had never had a conversation like this before. Other than yelling, we'd never been emotional around each other, at least not until the day I told him about my diagnosis. In some ways, cancer was helping our relationship.

"If you don't want to keep working at the firm, I'm not going to ask you to stay," my dad said. "I want you to be happy. I never thought about how much pressure it would be and I don't want to continue to put you through that, especially not now. Don't worry about what's going to happen. I'll figure something else out."

I tried to smile at him. "Maybe Avery could take over?"

"If Avery is still in our lives when I retire, I'll consider it. I have no doubt he'd do well with enough time and experience, but is that something he wants?"

I shrugged. "I haven't asked him that. He probably doesn't even think it's a possibility." The words I didn't say were that I wasn't sure Avery would still be around. Things were going well at the moment, but I knew that could all change in an instant.

"Here's my biggest question. What do you want to do instead? Do you have a back-up plan?"

I anticipated my dad would ask this, and I hoped Avery was right about me telling my dad about my secret hobby. "I want to do something with music."

"Like start a band?"

I shook my head. "I want to take piano lessons. And vocal lessons. I've been singing on my own for years and trying to get better, and Avery thinks I have talent and should pursue it."

"How come this is the first I'm hearing of this?"

"Because I didn't tell anyone. No one knew until I told Avery."

I could see my dad was trying, but his skepticism was clearly written on his face. "It's not easy to make it in the music business. You have to be talented, and it takes a lot of hard work and a lot of luck too."

"It's not that kind of music. Not pop or rock or anything that's played on the radio. Let me sing something and then you can tell me what you think."

I closed my eyes because I didn't want to see my dad's reaction as I was singing. My heart was starting to pound in my chest, and I hated being this nervous. I hoped my voice wouldn't be worse now that I was on chemo. 

After taking a deep breath, I began to sing 'The Prayer' by Andrea Bocelli. It was a song I remembered my mom playing often when I was young. Thankfully, I didn't have any issues with my voice. When I finished the song and opened my eyes, I wasn't expecting to see tears streaming down my dad's face.

"Why didn't you tell me you can sing like that? Devin, that was incredible." He fought to get the next words out. "It reminded me of your mother. Do you remember her singing and playing the piano?"

"Yeah. I think some of this is her influence."

My dad smiled as he wiped the tears off his face. "Well, I agree with Avery. You should pursue this."

Before I could respond, Nurse Evelyn came in. "Time for vitals check and meds. I held off for a couple minutes to let you finish your song. You know, if you want the practice, the other patients would love to hear you sing. Everyone gets bored and we encourage anyone with a talent to show it off."

"Really?"

"Yes. We've had patients sing, play instruments, do stand-up comedy, juggle, or do magic tricks."

"Is that something you want to do?" my dad asked.

"It sounds intimidating, but I guess I need to start somewhere and get used to singing in front of people." I looked over at Nurse Evelyn. "I'm decent, right? Avery and my dad might be biased, so I want your opinion."

"You have a beautiful voice. Trust me, if you were awful, I'd tell you."

I laughed. "Thanks."

-Avery-

I was happy to get back to the hospital so I could see Devin. I had his card and Sam's iPod in my hand as I headed towards his room, but I stopped when I heard what sounded like Devin's voice. It was coming from the family room. When I walked in, I was surprised to see Devin sitting in one corner of the room, singing. Several other patients and family members were sitting at the tables and on the couches, all listening to him. I noticed his dad standing against one wall, along with a handful of doctors and nurses.

Clearly he had done more than just tell his dad about singing while I was away for the weekend. I stood in the doorway and watched him, not able to stop a smile from breaking across my face. It made me happy to see him confident enough to sing for a group of strangers, and I was proud of him for doing it.

After a few moments he noticed me and I gave him a thumbs up. When he finished his song, everyone in the room clapped enthusiastically, and I hung back to let other patients and family members talk with him. 

Logan appeared at my side and gave me a quick hug. "Thank you for encouraging him. I wish he would have told me sooner, but it's a privilege to hear him sing no matter how long it took."

"Did he talk to you about work?" I asked, trying to be vague in case Devin hadn't had that discussion with his dad.

"He did. It's not great news, but I'll figure something out. I want him to be happy."

Devin was slowly making his way over to us, and he gave me a hug when he reached me. "How was camp?"

"It was great to see everyone. They asked about you." I put an arm around Devin so he could lean on me as we walked back to his room. "I only saw the end of your song, but it seems like everyone loved it. How did you end up singing for the other patients?"

"Nurse Evelyn heard me when I was singing to my dad and she said patients sometimes show off their talents to everyone else. I was nervous, but people said a lot of nice things."

Devin was happy, but I could tell he was tired. I helped him get back into his bed and Nurse Evelyn checked his vitals. Once she was gone, I sat next to his bed and handed him the card from everyone at camp.

"What's this?" he asked, studying the picture on the front. "Is this us in the camp?"

"Yep. Amanda drew it."

I watched him open the card and start reading. I hadn't read any of the messages, but they were all at least a paragraph long, and I appreciated that my former coworkers took the time to write more than a generic "Get Well Soon!" As Devin read, I began sanitizing Sam's iPod so it'd be safe for him to use. When I looked back up at him, I was surprised when I saw a sheen of tears in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

He cleared his throat and nodded. "This is really nice," he said, holding up the card. "I didn't even think they liked me."

"They do," I assured him. "You have plenty of people who care about you." I handed him the iPod. "Sam wanted you to have this until you get better. She says you're probably bored laying in a hospital bed all day, so she made you a few playlists to listen to."

Devin carefully took the iPod, and then he set it on his lap and covered his face with his hands. I hadn't been expecting him to get choked up about this. He wasn't usually an emotional person. I gently rubbed his back while he took a few deep breaths.

When he uncovered his face, his eyes were wet with teardrops clinging to his eyelashes. "It's a big deal that she gave her iPod to me. I don't know how to thank her for this." He looked down at the iPod in his lap. "I'm not used to people caring. I mostly hung out with Carter and his rich friends, and other than Carter, they stopped talking to me when I got sent to camp. I wasn't around to party with them anymore, so it was out of sight, out of mind. They were all shallow friendships. You saw how everyone was nodding at me and talking with me at Carter's party, but none of them have reached out after Carter told them about my cancer. I treated everyone at camp horribly, but they care about me more than my own friends."

I continued slowly rubbing his back. I had wondered why Devin hadn't introduced me to any of his friends yet, but it made sense now. He didn't really have friends.

"I'm sorry your friends were like that."

He shook his head. "I guess when you act like I have my whole life, shallow friendships are all you get. They're all I deserve."

"That's not true," I insisted. "You deserve good things. Everyone at camp cares about you because you've shown them you can be a decent person." My voice softened, and I wished more than anything that I could kiss him. "I care about you. I love you. Don't ever forget that."

Devin leaned against me, and I scooted all the way onto his bed so I could sit with him and hold him. No matter what, I was determined to be there for him and show him just how loved he was.