"We should make a triangle and glockenspiel band," Beth tells him with a teasing smile, because that's the only thing she can play besides piano and guitar, and the idea of just those two instruments makes her laugh. She's not really looking to be in a band at all, not because she's got something against it, but she's never had to create music with other people before. It's always been sort of a private thing, something she'd do on a quiet Saturday afternoon, holed up on the porch or in the barn. Sometimes she'd sing with Maggie, but that had always been different. They'd just sing old folk songs their father wanted to hear; it wasn't about making music the way she misses it.

"Yeah, I understand that," she says, nodding at the comment about his friend. "I got a couple of people here from home and it's good to have 'em, I don't know what I would've done that first day without a familiar face. Not to say people weren't real helpful, because they were, even though I must've looked and smelled somethin' awful. I tried to shake this guy's hand, this nice Australian guy, and it was gross. I was all covered in dirt and blood and stuff. He must've thought I was a real winner."