"I think I need to go back to the hospital," Harmony says, her eyes distant.

Dave and I exchange a concerned glance. We both know how much loss of Rita affected Harmony.

"Are you absolutely sure, Harmony?" I ask gently.

The old woman nods, her gaze fixed on a point in the distance.

"I had thoughts there... feelings... that I don't think Rita would want me to have. She always wanted me to be happy, to live my life to the fullest. I think that going back, facing those feelings head-on, is the first step to honoring her memory."

Dave's brow furrows in concern. "That's a long way back, Harmony. Are you sure?"

"I need to do this, Dave. I can't shake these feelings. And it's the right thing to do."

"The only problem is..." He scratches his nape. "We actually don't have enough gas money to take you back and then resume our journey to LA."

Oh no. He's right. But there are many hospitals...

I place a comforting hand on Harmony's arm. "We can figure something out. How about this? Maybe there's a hospital close to Niagara Falls?"

Harmony shakes her head. "No, I need to go back there. It's where it all started."

Dave looks at me, seeking reassurance. I nod, silently agreeing. We can't stop her from facing her past, no matter how painful it might be.

"We'll figure it out," Dave says, giving Harmony a reassuring smile. "We'll get you as far as we can, and we'll be there for you every step of the way. We can wait with you."

🗽🚘✉️❤️🏖️ 

The car ride is filled with an uncomfortable silence. Harmony sits in the backseat, her shoulders shaking slightly as silent tears stream down her face.

I glance at the map. "Okay, so according to this, the closest hospital is the Niagara Falls Memorial Medical Center. It's not a long drive at all."

Harmony needs this, she needs to confront her demons head-on.

"I know this isn't easy, Harmony," Dave says softly. "But you're strong, and you can do this."

She nods, her voice barely a whisper. "I know."

We pull up to a sprawling white brick building, its pale white facade a mix of old-world charm and modern efficiency.

"Says right here on the sign that this hospital has been here for over a century!" I gawk.

The Niagara Falls Memorial Medical Center looms over us, a concrete behemoth that promises both hope and healing. We step out of the car, inhaling the air carrying a hint of antiseptic cleanness.

"Shall we?"

Harmony nods, taking my hand like a cute, lost little girl. 

I find it so strange to have the roles reversed - I am looking after an adult person instead of having an adult look after me.

Is that what it feels like when you grow old?

We make our way to the main entrance, the heavy glass doors swinging open to reveal a bustling lobby filled with the low murmur of voices and the gentle beep of medical equipment. The air is thick with the scent of hospital food and freshly brewed coffee, a familiar aroma that always seems to accompany this place.

At the reception desk, a nurse with kind eyes greets us.

"Hello, welcome to the Niagara Falls Memorial Medical Center, how may I help you today?"

Dave steps in front of us, ready to explain the situation but Harmony interrupts him, her face pale and drawn, her words tumbling out in a rush of urgency.

"Hello, dearie. My name is Wanda Miller, and I seem to have very much lost my way. These two young people found me on the side of the road and were so kind as to bring me to the nearest hospital. Which just so happened to be this one."

"Wanda Miller?" Dave opens his mouth to speak up but I nudge him gently in the ribs.

"Harmony" turns to me and winks. "Oh, come on. You didn't think Harmony Moonbeam was a real deal, did you now?"

"Wanda Miller, Wanda Miller... Just a second." Tiny wrinkles appear on the nurse's forehead as she searches the hospital system. "Got ya." She wiggles her finger at "Harmony." "You were reported missing since last night."

"Really? Who reported me?"

"Here it says it was your son Thomas, Ms. Miller. He must have been very concerned."

"Oh, that old worrywart. How they all tend to exaggerate, my children. I merely wished for some fresh air." Wanda yawns. "But now I'm ready to go back."

"You also need to receive your treatment," the woman says, kindly. "We can get you settled in here for now. But we'll contact your hospital immediately to arrange a transfer."

"I'm going to stay with her for a while,"I tell Dave, my voice firm. There's a strength I didn't know I possessed, a determination to be there for Harmony-Wanda no matter what.

I guess I see a little bit of my mom in her and it's a way for me to repent for having fled home.

Dave nods understandingly. "I'll wait outside. Just let me know if you need anything."

As we enter "Harmony's" hospital room, I am struck by the simple environment. The light, pale blue walls and white curtains create a sense of calm. A vase of purple flowers sits on the table, an unexpected splash of color and scent in the otherwise monochromatic place.

Harmony's gaze falls on the flowers, and she sniffles. "Oh my. Rita would have loved these," she says softly.

I offer her a reassuring smile. "We're here for you, no matter what," I say, squeezing her hand.

"You've done more than enough. Even after I tricked you into bringing me to the Falls, and told you a fake name." The old lady blushes.

"Well I think that was quite clever of you." I wink. "I did think there was something a bit strange in your surname. Moonbeam."

"Very hippie, wouldn't you agree?"

I would.

"You had us both fooled, and you fooled us good." I giggle at her. "Also... You have a son?" I ask, trying to break the silence that has settled between us.

Wanda looks at me, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "Yes, I have a son, Thomas. From my first marriage. And a daughter, Lizzie."

"They must worry about you a lot."

She nods, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "They do. They fuss over me way too much, if you ask me. Worrywarts, the both of them."

"Well, it's only logical. They are your children and they love you." I squeeze her hand. "They want you to take care of yourself."

"And I haven't been very good at doing that, have I?" She resumes her gazing through the window.

"I mean... I like your adventurous spirit," I start cautiously. "But you know you have to stay indoors and... Well.. Receive your treatment."

"I didn't even care about the treatment anymore." She squeezes the bedsheets with her trembling fingers. "See, I only ever found true love with Rita," she confesses, her eyes filled with a profound sadness. "When you lose something... someone so precious, when your own life hangs by a thread, you start to question the point of it all."

"What do you mean?"

"The point of... living on."

"Oh you can't say something like that." I bring my hand to my mouth. "There are a lot of things worth living for."

"All these moments we take for granted with a person... Once we realize there might be no more of them, once that hits us over the head... It's just like what they say, huh – you don't know what's important to you until you lose it. I must have taken a thousand moments for granted, just because I thought there would be a thousand more."

"I can understand that." I nod. "I took my family for granted until Dad had to leave New York, to work in L.A. His absence is so much stronger than his presence now. I don't know if that makes sense."

"It does. You see, when Rita died, I felt like I too, had died and they just forgot to bury me. There was this numbness of thoughts, of feelings inside. Almost as if I was a walking corpse. Having met you and that boy, Dave, it helped a bit. You helped me feel alive again."

"I am so glad." I pull Wanda in a firm hug.

"I wasn't sure which pain was stronger – the shock, the denial of what has happened or the ache for the things that may no longer happen. And I didn't want to live like that anymore. In this new reality, without Rita."

What she says reminds me of one of Dad's letters, and I pull it out of my rucksack with trembling fingers. "My dad used to say that we are fish, and grief is like the ocean. It comes in waves, ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm and sometimes it's plain overwhelming. And all we can do is learn how to swim. Learn to live with the grief around us, within us."

"That's a beautiful thought." Wanda wipes a stray tear off her face.

"Let me read the rest of it to you. I'd love to share it with you," I say.

Dear April,

Life hurts. It always has. And it always will. But it will always kind of... tickle, too.

You need to know that life is not neatly, surgically divided into black and white, into pain and happiness.

They blend into this neat shade of gray, which stays with you till the end of your days.

The reality is, you will be happy, forever. And you will also grieve forever.

At the same time.

I hope I am making sense.

We don't get over the loss of a loved one. You just learn to live with it.

"Those are such profound words," I hear Harmony say softly, and my heart aches for her. Her strength in the face of such adversity is inspiring.

A tentative smile graces her lips. "I understand what the letter is telling me. And I can hear it out. I just want to be strong for Rita. And for Thomas and Lizzie. I can't be having those thoughts I had at Niagara Falls. Ever again. "

I hand her the folded letter. "I want to give you this," I offer, my voice trembling slightly.

Her eyes widen in surprise. "You can't," she protests, her fingers reaching out as if to push the crumpled pieces of paper far away.

"Oh, of course I can. I've read it countless times," I assure her. "I already know it by heart. This will do you so much more good, than if it stays by my side. Its lesson is already within me."

A long moment of silence passes as Wanda considers my offer. Finally, she nods. "Thank you, April Lewis. I'm so grateful our paths crossed."

"Me too, Harmony," I reply, squeezing her hand. "Or should I call you Wanda? I hope you find the strength and peace you're looking for."

"And I hope you find what you are looking for, April Lewis," she says enigmatically.

Many miles later, as I am dozing off with my head leaned against the window of our trusty blue Pontiac, I still keep wondering what she meant by that.

🗽🚘✉️❤️🏖️ 

The hours after our Niagara Falls adventure are spent mostly in silence. I brood about Harmony, hoping she is okay. She made such an impression on me and it was sad when we had to leave her at that hospital we found. She looked so lost.

The tires of the Pontiac eat up mile after mile; when Dave finally pulls into a rest stop, it's gloomy with the wipers clearing a fine mist off the windshield. He cuts the engine. "That's us for the night. I'm dead tired and need a break."

My forehead wrinkles. "We're not going to sleep out here, are we?"

"Yep, you can stretch out in the back."

He's already reclining the front seat as much as possible, and tilting the steering wheel for extra legroom. Then he tosses me a blanket.

"Holy smoke! Why did I ever get mixed up with you? If I had any sense, I'd be in L.A. by now." I get out of the front and slam the door closed. Sliding into the back, I let out a long huff.

"If being with me is so distasteful to you, you can leave. You can leave anytime you see fit. Nobody's holding you here."

"Right. Leave, now, at midnight? Go where? And with what money?" I shake my head. What does he expect?

"Take a chill pill, Lewis. You know this was the most sensible thing to do. Plus, it's a well-lit rest area parking lot at the outskirts of Chicago. Decent traffic flow, too, to deter potential trouble. And it'll save us some money, especially after we took Harmony to that hospital in Niagara Falls and they managed to contact her place from there."

I wrap myself up in a warm blanket with a groan. "Fine. You're right." The money is tighter than ever and this is only our second night.

"Hey, look at the bright side. Better to sleep in an uncomfortable bed free, than sleep in a comfortable bed unfree." Dave's eyes lock with mine and they do that thing where they focus on me extra hard.

"Okay." I throw my hands up in defeat.

His eyes rake up and down my body for a split second.

My skin flushes, the heat rising to my cheeks as I remember what it felt like sharing the bed with him in the motel last night.

"Want some chips?" I offer, awkwardly, trying to diffuse the tension.

"No, thanks," Dave yawns. "I'm going to pass out soon anyway. My eyes are already starting to close."

I roll on my back and stare at the car ceiling, fumbling with my thumbs on my stomach. Going to sleep is the worst for me. My brain jumps to gazillion things it shouldn't jump to. I plan out my next day, then I think about homework, the breakfast I have to prepare, the chores that mom left me to do. You name it, it's there. But not tonight. There's nothing to plan. Just the road ahead, stretching for miles and miles before us.

Well, not true. Not nothing. Harmony Moonbeam's face swims across my mind.

Glancing to my side, Dave is resting on the reclined driver's seat, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling as I was. The glow from the dashboard makes it clear he's deep in thought too. His long fingers are drumming on the adjacent seat and I hate that the mere thought of remembering holding his hand at the Niagara Falls viewpoint shuts me up.

"What are you thinking about, Lewis?" he whispers all of a sudden.

"I could ask you the same thing." I angry-whisper back.

"I asked you first."

Smartass.

"Harmony," I tell the truth. "Do you think she's okay?"

"Yes." Dave's response is firm and reassuring. "It was reckless of her to leave the hospital. But we did everything we could for her. At the Niagara Falls place, they'll give her all the care she needs until she's transferred back. They'll look after her."

"Promise?"

After a moment, Dave sighs and runs his fingers through my hair. I'm mortified because I haven't brushed it all day, so his fingers get stuck, but he gently tugs to get them through and repeats the soothing process.

"I promise."

"I don't even know how she managed to do it." I tilt my head up to stare at him.

"Tough old bird." There's a tone of admiration in his voice. "Driven by her feelings. Love and grief. Can't imagine how much she must've loved Rita to do something like this."

"Have you ever been in love?" My hands fly to my stupid mouth to try and put the nosy words back inside to no avail.

"Who hasn't? But it didn't work out. She and I, we were too different. Not to mention that she was cheating on me for a year before I found out."

"I'm so sorry, Dave."

"Don't be. Made me realize I have the ability to love someone, and that I could do it all over again. If I could ever meet the right sort of girl."

The sentence lays heavy in the air as it floats between us. I rack my brain for a reaction, but I'm falling short. Luckily, David Rivera speaks on.

"I saw an island in the Pacific once on TV. Never been able to forget it. That's where I'd like to take her. She'd have to be the sort of a girl who'd jump in the surf with me and love it as much as I do. Nights when you, the moon and the water become one. You feel you are part of something big and marvelous. That's the only way to live. The stars are so close overhead, you feel you could reach up and stir them around. Boy if I could find a girl who was hungry for all those little things."

Dave sucks in a breath, then blows it out. He chuckles softly, his lips brushing against my ear for a split second, before he turns away and closes his eyes.

"Good night, Lewis."

"Good night." I barely hear myself reply, still reveling in the phantom sensation of his lips.

"And: thank you for the detour today. You made me feel like somebody."