CHAPTER 20
I HAVEN’T BEEN within six feet of Bee in as many weeks, which is unsurprising given her ability to completely evade me when we were living in the same apartment.
It’s just a bit weird because she’s still texting me every so often.
The calls have all but stopped, but at least once every day or two, I receive a new understanding of my awfulness.
The bins didn’t get collected this week!
(Because I wasn’t there to put them out.) I’ve hidden her on social media, but Nicole tells me that it’s basically gratitude and manifesting and onto bigger and better things and this is totally my year!
When forced into proximity by the call of paid employment, she is very dedicated in her avoidance of even a passing glance between us. The first time, it’s a little jarring. By the fifth time, I appreciate how comical the efforts are. So does everyone else.
‘Did she just offer to do the guest list at the door for the next two hours in order to get out of the main room?’
‘I’m more impressed that she offered to do two hours of work.’
‘Why is she carrying that large box in front of her face?’
‘That’s an OH I half-expect him to stamp his foot.
‘Oh, I definitely do,’ I say. ‘But I didn’t have you pegged for a martyr complex. This could be useful information.’ He just grumbles in response. ‘Besides,’ I continue. ‘I realised within about five minutes that I had made a horrible mistake in letting you walk away.’
‘Is there a reason why you didn’t say anything once you realised? I’ve been posting like crazy, hoping you’d see my stories and reach out, but you never did.’
‘I hid you so I wouldn’t have to see anything.’
‘What?’ He takes out his phone, flamboyantly pressing at the screen. ‘No! I checked; you’re still following me.’ He shows me the screen with a flourish, my profile picture prominent. See? See?
It makes me laugh, relaxing me in a way I’m starting to realise only he can. ‘You can hide people you’re following so that you don’t see their posts, Grandpa.’
‘Oh…’ I love the little confused wrinkle between his brows, the way a curl flops down over his eyes as he stares at his phone. ‘You’ll have to show me how to do that. I have a few cousins with profiles for their children who post practically every shit their child takes.’
‘Okay, sure.’ Possibly a little condescending.
‘So,’ he prompts me. ‘Why did you hide me? Surely you know I would have answered if you’d called.’
‘Who knows? It’s not a thing that can be known.’
‘I was waiting for you.’
What? ‘Why?’
‘You said that you were considering your options!’
‘I also said it was our ending.’ It was pretty final sounding, I’m sure of that—I’ve replayed it in my mind enough times.
‘I’m choosing not to remember that part.’
‘That seems like a poor choice in terms of self-preservation.’
‘We’ll have to agree to disagree there. Anyway, I gave you your space. Waited patiently like a good little boy. And then I suddenly got very impatient, and here I am.’
‘And how did you get in here?’
‘Bee let me in.’
‘What?’ He’s full of surprises tonight.
He nods. ‘I called her. Called her some choice names too, don’t you worry about it. She was surprisingly eager to help me, though. Asked how I was and everything.’