22. Abbot #2
“Have you told your family, Henry?” Dan asks. “I’m sure they’re just thrilled.”
“My sister is,” Abbot says. And his father…well. He’ll deal with that when he has to. Which is apparently tomorrow, though he pushes that thought as far away as he can.
Dan claps Ned’s arm. “Look at you, going to have a sister-in-law.”
“And this will make your father a grandfather,” Cheryl says.
“I can welcome him to the club,” Dan says. “Oh, I should get him a hat from Newbury.”
A grandfather. Yes, and Liesl an aunt. How odd to think about.
“He must be so happy,” Dan says.
Abbot doesn’t correct him, not wanting to burst Dan’s joy. His father? Happy? The words don’t belong in the same sentence, and he nearly laughs at the thought.
Though that’s the delight of this whole evening, he’s sure, the surprise enjoyment of sharing his and Ned’s news. Seeing the happiness on Dan’s and Cheryl’s faces, feeling it reflected back in a glow of warmth. Welcome to the family, Dan had said, and he’d meant it.
Dan reaches to hug him again, and Abbot returns it more easily this time, then lets himself be held at arm’s length as Dan beams at him. “I have to think your mom would be so happy too.”
Abbot feels a moment tick by. Another.
Too late, he remembers to react. “That’s very kind,” he gets out.
“Dad,” Ned says and gently pulls his father away.
“I was going to make that salmon,” Abbot says. The oven. He’ll need to turn the oven on. It takes so very long to preheat.
“Don’t lift a finger for dinner,” Cheryl says. “We’re celebrating you two tonight. Dan, run down to the store for a bottle of champagne. And get Peggy something too. Some ginger ale, or see if they have that sparkling apple cider we had for New Years.”
“Peggy has had enough sugar for a week,” Ned says, but he’s looking at Abbot, not his parents. Softly, he says, “Hey.”
Abbot’s mother. He’s so very careful to not think of her. And right now of all times…
She would be a grandparent too. A step-grandmother. She would adore Peggy, a thought he’s sidestepped again and again that now bears down on him with brute force. She would adore Peggy and Ned, and just as tearfully welcome him to their family, and—
Abbot waits until Dan has shuffled out the door, zipping his coat as he goes, and Cheryl is taking out the salmon. He should help. She shouldn’t have to cook the food he brought to serve tonight.
He makes his way upstairs and for a blinding moment wishes he had his own space to go to. Not Ned’s room, this borrowed bed and desk, but a spot where he could shut the door and turn the lock.
He can’t. He doesn’t. He sits on the edge of the bed and squeezes his hands in his lap and tries very hard to not think about anything at all.
Ned taps at the door, then comes in. “I’m so sorry,” he says.
“It’s alright,” Abbot says and yes, his voice is entirely even.
“He didn’t know.”
“I’m really fine.” He is fine. Or he will be, when he can get his thoughts back under control and push the numbness from his body.
The mattress dips as Ned sits next to him.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Abbot can hear how stiff his voice is. “I just need a moment. I’ll be right down.”
“I’m going to talk. Hon, I know this isn’t what either of us was planning. And whatever this mess is with Newbury, that doesn’t change that you’re one of the best parts of my life. I love the hell out of you, and I wish more than anything that your mom could know that.”
“Ned.” Abbot’s voice cracks.
“And you’ve got whatever beef with your dad that you’ve always had, but you loved your mom, and this ridiculous situation aside, I’d do anything to be able to tell her how amazing her son is.” Ned puts his hand over the knot of Abbot’s fingers.
Abbot stares down at their hands, his knuckles white and Ned’s resting gently over his grip on himself.
Abbot pulls a breath in. Lets it out. The din of the TV drifts up from downstairs with the scent of a sautéing onion.
He nods when he can, the lump in his throat aching.
“I wish I could have met her,” Ned says.
Abbot can’t do this. He wants to crawl out of his skin. Run down the stairs and burst outside, disappear into the frigid winter air.
He stands, pulling away from Ned. “I need to return some emails.”
“Okay,” Ned says and it comes out as a sigh. “Look, I’ll run interference downstairs. Don’t feel like you have to rush back in with everyone.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, you said that.” Ned looks up at him from the bed. “We really can talk.”
“No, thank you.”
“I’d like to.”
“I know.”
“Okay,” Ned says to his lap. He stands and says it again. “Okay. Fine.”
“Ned, it’s not you. I—”
“Dad doesn’t know not to talk about her,” Ned says. “I’ve never told him not to. I never know what to say, since I don’t know anything other than to just not bring up the subject.”
“He’s fine,” Abbot says. Dan is fine, Abbot is fine, and this conversation would be fine if it would just come to an end, so he pulls open the door, walking back down the stairs to prove it.