Chapter 52 Chris #2
“The 1-800 emergency line. Midnight to nine a.m.”
“Do you get a lot of calls?”
He shrugged. “Not really, but when I do, it’s always a shitshow. Literally. It’s brutal. I’m just now gettin’ used to it.”
“He didn’t have anything else?”
“Not for full-time. At least that’s what he says. I think he’s trying to teach me a lesson or something.” He puffed air into his cheeks. “I have a coworker who gives me crap. I’m dealing with that.”
“Why’s he giving you crap?”
“She. For fun, I think.” He looked over at me. “You know, nobody hates you.”
“Really?”
“Oh, they’re pissed at you for sure. But they don’t hate you. You should call them up. I think Xavier would like to hear from you.”
“And Jesse?”
He bobbed his head. “He’ll come around. If I’m not mad, he can’t be mad, right?”
“Does he know?”
He shrugged. “I think everyone kind of figured out what was happening by the way you were acting. The birthday thing just confirmed it. That really sucked, by the way. We broke a streak. Twenty-five years.”
I gave him a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.
“I’ve been a pretty shitty friend,” he said, almost to himself.
“Ha. Same.”
“Nah. You were always there for me.” He nudged me.
“You put up with a lot. I want you to know I see that. And I think you needed me when your mom died and I was just in my own fucking world. I just couldn’t handle anything else and I loved her, too, you know?
She was like an aunt to me. It wasn’t easy on me either.
But I should have sucked it up. Let you tell me what you needed to. ”
I puffed out my cheeks. “It wasn’t really fair to dump it on you if you weren’t in a place to hear it.”
“Yeah, but I could have told you that. I could have at least let you know I gave a shit. I just left you with it, and I knew I was doing it. It was like I was embarrassed to admit that I couldn’t deal with it, so I just avoided talking about it.
I was always doing that, it was so fucking dumb.
I couldn’t just say the uncomfortable thing out loud.
Like with Larissa. I couldn’t even say, hey, I can’t afford this expensive-ass restaurant your mom wants to go to.
I just let her take me and then I can’t pay the bill and then I’m taking it out on you because you have to save me—and you would never have gotten in that situation in the first place because you would have just said the hard thing. ”
“I think if you would have told me it was difficult to talk about my mom because you missed her, too, it would have made me feel a lot less alone. I wish you had.”
He stared out over the grass. “After everything happened and I was just by myself and I thought, is this what it was like for him? Nobody to talk to? Nobody to give you advice or tell you if you’re being an idiot or to just listen?
” His jaw ticked. “To be honest, I didn’t realize how much you were there until you weren’t.
I’m sorry. I let you down, and I really am sorry.
” He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.
We were quiet for a long moment.
“You know what I realized in all this?” he asked.
“What?”
“She’s not the great love of my life.” He looked me in the eye. “You are.”
A lump bolted to my throat.
He sniffed and blinked out at the cars. “You know what she told me? The day she broke up with me? I told her I could change and she said good. Change for somebody else. I am gonna change. For you. Even if you never talk to me again, just know it’s for you.
I’m going to be okay. I’m gonna make you proud.
Don’t feel guilty, don’t feel bad. Just have a good life. ”
Tears stung my eyes.
He nudged me again and I looked at him. And for the first time in a long time, I saw the old Mike. The one I’d been missing.
He got up and I stood. He came over and gave me a hug.
“I love you, McNougat,” he whispered.
“I love you too.”
When he let me go, his eyes were red. “Do me a favor, yeah? Call Z. Do it today, okay? If he wants to hang out, hang out. Take Larissa so Samantha isn’t a third wheel.
Get Jesse’s ass out of the house, too, tell him to bring Becca.
I probably won’t come—graveyard shift. But you guys get together.
All right? I’m gonna tell them you’re calling. Don’t forget.”
I nodded and swallowed down the knot in my throat.
He gave me one last look. “You ever need someone to talk to, you can call me. I’m ready to listen. Maybe not about her—but anything else and I’m here.”
I nodded. “All right.”
He smiled. “See you around.”
He turned for his truck and I watched him make his way across the parking lot, the highway humming behind me.
“Mike…”
He turned around.
“You want to make me proud?” I called. “You just did.”
I watched the slow smile move across his face. He winked at me. Then he turned and kept walking.
And that was it.
The end of something. Or the start of something. New and better. Healthier.
I thought all this time that I was helping him, carrying his load. But in the end I had to drop it for him to decide to carry it himself. And he was.
Mike chirped off his alarm. He was almost to his door when I saw the car pull into the lot. He noticed it a second after me and we both froze.
Larissa was here.
She hadn’t been coming to my work for the last few months, part of our attempt to keep our relationship private. She didn’t call me to tell me she was coming.
We watched her park and when she got out and locked eyes with Mike, I half expected her to turn and go back home. She’d kept him blocked, didn’t want to see him. But she only paused for a moment before shutting her door and closing the distance between them.
They stood there next to his truck talking for a few moments. I gave them their space and I was too far away to hear what was said. When they were done, she hugged him. Then Mike got in his truck wiping under his eyes and drove off.
“What did you talk about?” I asked as she made her way over to me.
“He apologized,” she said. “And I accepted it.”
She stopped in front of me. “He told me to take care of you. And I gave him some advice.”
“What advice?”
“I told him to take the exit that makes the most sense. Not the door he knows.”
I smiled a little and she wrapped her arms around my waist and hugged me.
“Why did you come?” I asked, tucking her head under my chin.
“I don’t know. Something told me you needed me. Trauma bond.”