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The kids rushed back, each of them picking up their instrument and leaning it against the padded wall behind me.

“Sorry, Miss Frankie,” they all chorused. I followed them to the drum sets in the adjacent space.

With a sigh, I mentally prepared myself for a killer headache.

I wiped down one of the guitars on the display stand, grateful for the air conditioning that blasted down the back of my neck. The music store was unusually busy after the kids’ class, which meant I’d spent the better part of my shift helping customers find the right instruments.

It also meant I’d been on my feet for four solid hours.

“Don’t you want to sit down for a bit?” June asked from behind me, her arms folded across her chest. Her curls had been tamed into twin space buns atop her head, her round frames perched on her head as well.

I gave her a close-lipped smile and shook my head. “I’m kinda used to standing all day,” I said, turning back to the guitar I was cleaning. “I’ve always worked on my feet, it helps keep my mind awake.”

June laughed and grabbed a stool to sit on, groaning as her joints popped. “Well, I’m just old then,” she joked. She gulped down a bit of water from her water bottle. “I can’t imagine having a full day of this.”

“How are things going here otherwise?” I asked.

June lifted a shoulder. “Pretty much as always,” she said, adjusting the buttons on her shirt. “The classes are filling up now that you’re here, so that’s been a pleasant surprise.”

“Glad I could help.” I smiled.

“What about back at Ivey’s?” June asked. “How are things over there?”

My shoulders drooped and I sighed. “They could be better,” I admitted. “I think I’m just stressed out; it all feels like it’s too much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nah, I’ll be okay,” I assured her. “I’m probably overreacting. It’s not as bad as I make it out to be.”

A lie. But I didn’t want June to feel guilty for helping me out when I needed it.

“I doubt that. You’re usually the type to underplay just about everything.”

That was true, but I couldn’t bring myself to agree.

June must have noticed my reluctance and switched gears. “How’s your mom doing?” she asked instead.

I shook the cloth out and threw it onto my shoulder. “I’m going to see her later today,” I said, chewing the inside of my cheek. “Dad has been a little out of it since he can’t stay by her side all day and all night.”

“I can’t imagine how hard that must be,” June mused, a deep frown marring her face. “I saw him in the cafeteria when I went to pick up my medication. He looked tired. I’ll come and visit soon, I promise.”

“That’s okay. I know you have tons on your plate and she knows that too.”

“Yeah, but I still should have gone to see her by now.” June frowned. “I’ll come with you this weekend, is that okay?”

“Of course,” I said. “She’ll be so happy.”

June was quiet for a long moment, gnawing on her bottom lip in thought. “Hey,” she said, and I turned to her. “When’s the last time you played?”

I frowned at her, my brows furrowed in confusion. “Today,” I reminded her. “With the kids.”

She shook her head in irritation. “Not like that. I meant for real. When was the last time you picked something up and just played for the fun of it.”

I thought about it and realized I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even tuned my guitar at home.

“I thought so.” She sighed, correctly interpreting my silence. “If you ever have a break and want to play, you can come here. Everything is tuned and you know your way around.”

My chest squeezed tightly. “That’s great, June,” I said. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I didn’t have the time to think about music anymore. “I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”