34. Chapter 34
Chapter thirty-four
Chuck
It was childish and Chuck knew it, but he woke up super early, left a note so the boys knew they were on their own for breakfast, and went to get coffee. On the one hand, it was some salve that he was willing and able to get out of the house. On the other, he was doing it because he was being ridiculous.
As soon as he’d gotten home, gotten in the shower, and stuffed a pint of rocky road down his gullet, he felt a new wave of guilt. Or a new aspect to the guilt. Or a new intensity. He should have been more understanding of Robinson and his whole situation. He definitely shouldn’t have done everything in his power to get out of that hotel room as fast as he could.
But since Robinson was going to be coming to the house bright and early, Chuck found himself at a coffee shop he’d never been to in his entire life, ordering his third latte and fourth turnover so he didn’t feel guilty all over again for taking up a table and not paying. He’d at least made the wise choice to switch to decaf after drink number three, but he was still absolutely buzzing between the caffeine, the sugar, and the nerves. He couldn’t feasibly stay there the entire day. He had to go back home sooner rather than later, and Robinson would be there.
Chuck pulled out his phone and scrolled brainlessly, only half paying attention to what he was looking at. Right up until a name caught his eye. He didn’t spend very much time on social media, as a rule, so it was all too easy to not think about folks for big stretches of time. Emily LaMont was one of those people, but he still felt a little spark of warmth at the base of his skull when he saw her name. She hadn’t posted anything wild, just a picture of her and her wife Gen while they were plant shopping, but Chuck had a hard time scrolling past.
Robinson suggested a party. I agree with him at this point . Chuck drummed his fingers on the side of his phone case, then, before he lost his nerve, navigated to his contacts. He had to flip through a bunch of people from work, and he had no idea if Emily or Gen actually had the same number anymore. But it was a Saturday morning and he’d been at the cafe long enough, the hour was no longer ungodly, so he tapped Emily’s contact and raised the phone to his ear.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Ri—
“Hello?”
Chuck swallowed and tried to get his voice to work. “Emily?”
“Speaking.”
“It’s, uh. It’s Chuck.”
“Chuckie!” Her voice was so loud that, even though she wasn’t on speaker, a couple at the table next to him looked his way when she shouted, but she didn’t give him time to say or do anything before she pushed forward. “Oh my god, I know you’ll never believe it because why would you, it’s ridiculous, but Gen and I were talking about you yesterday.”
“Oh really? Should I be concerned?”
“No. But we were.” Her jovial tone faded a bit. “How are you doing? I mean, I should probably start by apologizing.”
“Apologizing? For what?”
She sighed, the sound staticky over the line. “Well, we kept going back and forth on what to do. I wanted to call you, and then Gen wanted to give you space, and then we totally flipped positions and…we weren’t exactly there for you.”
“I wasn’t exactly there for my friends either. You all lost Andrew the same as I did.” Chuck had met them first, before Gen and Emily were even dating, but they’d known Andrew almost as long as they’d known him.
“Hardly the same.” She sighed again. “Anyway, what’s going on? No offense, but last time I checked, you weren’t known for being an early riser.”
“It’s, like, eight-thirty.”
“Yeah, on a Saturday .”
In spite of everything, Chuck couldn’t help but smile. Emily was a bundle of energy, and Gen was a snarky, catty bitch who Chuck and Andrew had both loved going out with. No one could make a snide remark about a total stranger more cutting than her. “Well excuse me. I was calling to invite you two over to my place at the end of next week, but if you’re not interested—”
“Gen! We’re visiting Chuck next week!”
In the distance, Chuck could just hear her response. “I’ll believe it when I see it and not a second before.”
“I’m on the phone with him right now. Have some faith in me.”
A little silence, then Gen’s throaty voice was much clear. “Son of a bitch, is that actually little Chuckie deigning to call?”
“Well, you’ll notice I called the nice one.”
“Good. I don’t answer my phone.” There was a sound of rustling, then her voice got much tinnier, like they’d just switched to speaker phone. “So what’s this fantasy I hear where you’re having us over?”
“I’m in the middle of getting the house remodeled and redecorated.” He wanted to word the next part carefully, not even for himself, but out of respect for their relationship with Andrew. “I need some kind of change, and I’m hoping that maybe having some people I like over can cement things. Make that house a home again.”
A beat of silence, and Chuck braced himself. Maybe he hadn’t been gentle enough, or maybe Gen was still pissed that he’d left them hanging for so damn long. Couldn’t blame her for that.
“Date and time?” He heard some rustling paper as Gen spoke. “I’ll put a note on the fridge, and I’ll need enough time to get my shopping done.”
“ Our shopping,” said Emily. “You worry about hosting, we’ll worry about keeping people drunk, fed, and happy.”
“And if you want us to take over calling anyone so you don’t get overwhelmed, just shoot us the contact info.” Gen’s voice was more distant again, and she was clearly shouting to still be heard. “Unless it’s family or someone we don’t know. Then you’re on your own to call them.”
“I…yeah, actually. I’ll call Andrew’s sister, but I’ll shoot you the details. Invite the regular folks for sure, though.” He wanted to tell them that they didn’t need to go to the trouble, that he was hosting and he could get drinks, that this was too much to ask of them.
Maybe I need to get more comfortable giving up some control .
“Thanks. Both of you. I’ll text you an exact day and time once I know for sure.” He needed to get back home, talk to the boys, and talk to the crew. Could be that Homescapes would want to shoot some footage of everyone giving him a housewarming/sorry-your-husband’s-dead party. Which meant he had to walk through that door, knowing how badly he’d screwed things up with Robinson last night.
They can handle the party so I can handle this.