My Dad Started Charging Me $250 a Month for My Room When I Turned 18 — Five Years Later, After His Funeral, His Best Friend Handed Me a Box

Beside the number I wrote, “Ask about drum setup.”

Marcus watched me.

“Planning ahead?”

“Trying it out.”

“How does it feel?”

“Like I need a better notebook.”

He took the receipt and folded it into the front pocket of the book so I would not lose the number.

Before leaving he checked the amplifier connections and listened while I played a few notes.