“How did it go?” she asked with a pleasant smile. She put down the magazine and moved to pay the receptionist and set up their next appointment.
Edan shrugged, “Nothing was accomplished. You just wasted a bunch of money you could have used to get me a new amp.”
“A new amp?” she questioned as she wrote the check, “Yesterday you wanted a twelve string.”
“That was yesterday,” he said with a shrug, “Tomorrow I’ll want a Les Paul.”
Daisy laughed as they left, heading straight for the guitar store after getting in the car. The people there knew him by name and they often came after his psychiatrist appointments because Daisy knew they stressed him out. He was always at peace when surrounded by guitars.
A few of the workers greeted him and started showing him some of the new things that had arrived. He pulled down a guitar, plugged it in and started playing, plunking on the strings.
Daisy cleared her throat, “You know, your Uncle Scott was asking about you. He was hoping you could come visit him, maybe stay for the summer,” she said while looking at a display of BC Richs. Edan plunked out a familiar tune she couldn’t name and gave her a curious look.
“The one in Pittsburg?” Edan had two Uncle Scotts. He had his father’s brother who lived in Oxford, Indiana, then his mother’s brother, who lived in Pittsburg.
His mother nodded, “He’s been asking about it for a while.”
Edan sighed and started messing with the tuning.
Daisy frowned, “He had to go to St. Catherine’s when he was little older than you, you,” she explained, “He had to stay for two years.”
He looked up at her in surprise, “Why?”
“He would just go a little crazy every so often and end up hurting people. He’s better now, though. A lot happier, too.”
Edan set the guitar on a nearby stand and gave his mom a small smile, “Can I get some picks?”