33. Abbot
ABBOT
What’s wrong? their father had asked when Abbot dropped Liesl off at the airport, and now two hours and a hundred miles later, Abbot’s no closer to having an answer.
Ned, he could have said, but warring with that was a lack of desire to actually respond to his father’s probing into his life.
It’s none of his business.
And apparently it’s none of Abbot’s as to when or even if Ned will come for a visit.
He puts his blinker on by habit, changing lanes for his exit, before he thinks better of it and presses the gas, accelerating past the turn that would take him to his house.
He can’t go there right now. The darkness of those rooms, that particular brand of silence, the fact that Liesl was just there, and Ned before her.
Ned.
Going to the office and walking through the halls they once shared is an equally unappealing way to spend his night. Of course, so is going to the cafe where he just spent such a happy evening, but at least there’s the pack of other people there, not his own steps ringing hollow.
And wine.
Though Abbot’s barstool is occupied, and tonight of all times that feels like a reason to turn around and leave before Pat can spot him.
Or maybe it’s better to sit somewhere else, because it’s Ned’s stool, really, that Abbot claimed for himself like he could be closer to him when Ned’s not here, leaning against the same part of the bar, taking in the same angle of the cafe.
The woman perched on it turns, and Abbot finds himself taking a step forward. It’s Claire. She sees him before Pat does, and greets him with a smile and a wave.
“Hi,” she says, slipping off the stool and holding her arms out for a hug.
He finds himself happy to return it. “Hello. I didn’t expect to see you up here.”
“Managed the entire drive without, well—I’ll spare you the gory details of my bouts of morning sickness, which are really all-day-long sickness, it turns out.”
“Congratulations,” Abbot says. “Are you any better?”
“I’m not worse, and that’s a win,” Claire says.
“And we have the finest ginger ale in the land, and plenty of it,” Pat says, setting a glass in front of her. Pat didn’t serve ginger ale here, Abbot thought, though apparently now he does. “Wine for you, or are you still on a strict diet of celebratory champagne?”
“Red, thank you,” Abbot says and unbuttons his coat.
“How’s married life?” Pat asks as he pours.
“Fine.”
“Ringing endorsement right there.”
“Congratulations to you too,” Claire says. “Quite a weekend.”
And a week, too. No, only a handful of days, really. Abbot’s been married less than a week and his stomach churns, nauseated, as he sips his wine.
He should have responded more quickly, he sees as Claire and Pat look at each other and then at him. He should probably be beaming. He tries to reach for the delight of the weekend he and Ned spent together, but can only find the chill of tonight still clinging to him.
“I’m just tired,” he says quickly. “I dropped Liesl off at the airport, and we had dinner with Steve and his family.”
Pat points a finger at him. “Don’t go making friends with that man, too.”
“I’ve known him for years.”
“Nope, I called dibs on you,” Pat says.
“He’s moving here,” Abbot says. “I’m sure you’ll like him.”
“Just as you’re ripped away from me,” Pat sighs.
Maybe Pat will come to Switzerland this summer. He actually might, and Abbot tries to find humor in that idea as he stares into his wine. Showing Pat where he grew up, and perhaps Claire too. Maybe Dan and Cheryl as well, all before Ned makes the trip over.
Claire leans closer. “You okay?”
“No,” Abbot says and then quickly adds, “Sorry, yes. Yes, I’m fine.”
She and Pat exchange another look. Abbot braces for a You sure? But Pat just opens the dishwasher and takes a rack of steaming dishes from it. “Where’s this Steve looking to live?”
“Somewhere close to campus, I assume,” Abbot says. “He joked about simply trading houses, but I think he’d want something bigger than mine.”
“He got something good to offer?”
Oh, Abbot doesn’t want to talk about the evening he just had, but he manages a nod. “His grandmother’s house is going up for sale. We—I looked at it.”
“And?”
And it’s lovely and charming and needs to be updated, and Ned hadn’t walked into it with a smile and a yes like Abbot had held out hope for.
He shouldn’t have. He knew that before dinner tonight, and knows it now.
“It was nice,” Abbot says. “Near your parents and Ned’s both.”
“Yeah? You thinking about it?”
Abbot should extricate himself from this conversation, but what is he going to do?
Put Pat off today, just for him to learn of their living arrangements soon enough?
He will, like everyone will, and—and Abbot wants to talk about this, he finds.
One of those odd shifts in his life since he got involved with Ned that still catch him unaware at times.
Like a missed step going downstairs, the realization that he’s changed before he quite knew he had the capacity to.
He wants to—needs to—talk about these issues with Ned, and he’s left himself with so very few people to turn to.
Is it fair to involve Pat? When he was Ned’s friend first?
Though fairness feels very far away just now. “I am, but Ned’s planning to stay at his parents’.”
“This spring?” Pat starts pulling out clean glasses to put away.
Can’t Pat just intuit what Abbot means? Not make him say it out loud?
No, because it’s nonsensical. They’re married, and Ned doesn’t want to live together. Can’t, he had said, but he could, and he won’t. Not live together or travel either.
Hurt fills the back of Abbot’s throat, and beside it, an urge just as strong to defend Ned, to explain his choice so Pat and Claire and everyone will agree that no, no, this makes sense.
Of course Ned will remain at his parents’ house, so there’s no reason for Abbot’s burn of embarrassment that his husband won’t move in with him.
And it’s fine that Abbot will never share his childhood home, or where his mother is buried, or heal the hurt in his sister, even after Ned just declared him and her family.
“He’s, ah, not ready to move in together,” Abbot offers, but it’s not enough, apparently, because Claire’s looking at him curiously and Pat’s holding a glass in midair, frowning. “We looked at some houses. One was—it was fine. And then this one, tonight.”
“And Ned’s dragging his feet?” Pat asks.
“Yes,” Abbot says, and then corrects himself.
“No. He’s decided. So I was looking at the house, rather, and Ned came and…
” And Abbot rather liked it, and Liesl had left with a hard glint in her eyes and her jaw set, barely deigning to hug him goodbye, and Abbot didn’t text Ned that he’d arrived safely back in Portland, and Ned hasn’t texted to ask.
“It didn’t go well,” he finally finishes.
“Can we blame Steve?”
“Likely not.”
“It would have gone well if it’d been my place,” Pat sniffs. “Ergo: It’s Steve. Because let’s be clear that I remain Ned’s most important person in this world. Except for Peggy and you, of course.”
It’s just a joke, Pat trying to defuse the moment, but it catches Abbot right in the chest. Ned lived with Pat. Will he again, if Pat decides to move down to Boston to be closer to Claire and their baby? Would Ned happily share a place with him again, when he won’t with Abbot?
Yes, Abbot is suddenly sure, and it’ll be like stepping back in time to visit Ned and Pat together.
“Did you like it?” Claire asks.
“I should look at more properties regardless,” Abbot says. “I’ve only seen the two.”
“But do you?”
“It needs some work.”
“Good location, though,” Claire says.
Abbot tries not to picture the walk from that house to Ned’s parents’.
Peggy would be able to ride her bike on her own soon enough, if Cheryl and Dan knew to expect her.
She could nearly walk from Jen’s too. And he and Ned would have such a short commute to Newbury, with the neighborhood positioned how it is, the bridge across the river so close.
A house. For him and Ned and Peggy and Liesl. A backyard for Baxter, a couch big enough for them all, a bedroom with a bed that is both his and Ned’s, their closets full of their clothes, a place they can come home to every night together.
No. That’s not what he’s getting, and it’s time he accepts that.
He could find something closer to Newbury, even closer than that house is. Near enough to walk to work, and on nights Ned doesn’t have Peggy, they can leave the office together and enjoy the short trip back. Even stop in over lunch to let Baxter out, if Ned wants to leave him there for the day.
So just live with me, Abbot wants to plead with him all over again.
“Abbot?” Pat asks.
“Yes, I like it,” Abbot says. “But Ned’s not interested in living together.” Or visiting him this summer, either.
But that’s far too embarrassing to say to these two.
“Ned’s ready to get married but not move in?” Claire asks.
“I have a story for you about the order in which these two do things,” Pat says.
“Everything just moved very quickly,” Abbot says. “Ned needs some time.”
“How much time?” Pat asks.
Abbot lets out a breath. “I don’t know.”
“So he’s just not going to live with you?” Claire asks.
“Exactly,” Abbot says and the word feels heavy and numb. They’re married. They’ll be living in the same city so very soon. Working together too. They’ve declared to their friends and families that they intend to be together for the rest of their lives, to love and to care for each other.
Just…separately, is Ned’s preference.
“Something changed over the past few weeks,” Abbot says.
“Like getting married?” Pat asks.
“No. Yes, of course, but…” Abbot shakes his head. “We were so happy, and now we aren’t, and I don’t know how to get back there.”
“For better or for worse?” Pat asks.
“I didn’t think it would be so immediate.”
“It sounds like a lot has been going on,” Claire says.
“Not that we know anything about that,” Pat adds.
“Ned losing his job, and then you two getting new ones, and now looking at moving, and in the middle of that tying the knot?” Claire lists.