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“What in the world are you doing?”
“Making myself a white russian.”
“Wow, you must be stressed if you’re drinking.”
“Queenie was supposed to stay over tonight. Neither of us have to be up early, and she usually makes me one of these on occasions like this, except now she’s dealing with her dad and I’m—”
“Talking to your momster on video chat, trying to make yourself an alcoholic beverage.”
“Yeah.” There’s a shaker thing in my cupboards somewhere, but I don’t feel like looking for it. I pour some vodka and some coffee liqueur into my pint glass and stir it up with a spoon. It looks like chocolate milk, but it’s not frothy, and there’s no ice. I take a sip. It’s not half as good as the ones Queenie makes for me, but I can suffer through it. “You know, I think with a little time I can get over this whole thing, but I’m not sure about Queenie.”
“How do you mean?”
“I can handle the media going squirrelly and all the ridiculous crap that Corey’s fiancée said on that crack-pipe show, but I think Queenie is going to have a hard time with it, and from what I’ve seen, her response to problems is to run away from them.”
“So be someone safe for her that she can run to.”
“I want to be able to be that for her.”
“But?”
“But I’m angry.”
“Okay, and that anger is understandable. But what exactly are you angry about? The situation? The omission?”
“All of it, I guess? I don’t know. She says she loves me, but she doesn’t trust me enough to tell me she was married to that jackass.” And that truly is the crux of it, I suppose. I feel . . . let down. Again. Something important was withheld from me by someone I love, and it’s compounded and magnified by the family secret that was dropped on me like a bomb this summer.
“Oh honey, I love you with all my heart, and I couldn’t tell you I was your mother for three decades. The only reason it came out was because my asshole ex wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. I’d like to think I would’ve eventually had the gumption to go against what Mom wanted and tell you, but there were too many layers of complication. I wanted to tell you a million times, but I didn’t want to upset the balance, or run the risk of losing the special bond I already had with you. Can you see, at all, how it might be the same for Queenie?”
I squeeze the bridge of my nose. “I guess, when you put it that way . . .”
“I’m not telling you not to be angry. You have a right to be upset with a lot of people right now, but you’re an incredibly empathetic soul, and that’s as wonderful as it is difficult, because it means you put other people’s feelings ahead of your own. So be angry if you need to, but also be compassionate and gentle.”
“I’m going to try my best.” I drain half my drink in two gulps. It’s definitely not as good as the ones Queenie makes for me.
“Do you need me to come visit this weekend?”
“I’ll be all right until you come out with the family.”
“Okay. I always have your back, Ryan, no matter what.”
“I know. You always have.”Sleeping on it gives me the perspective I need. Or restlessly rolling around in my empty bed, wishing Queenie were next to me, married to a jerk or not, is enough for me to conclude that I can get over this, because I don’t like the alternative. The next morning I pop into Queenie’s office before I head to the gym, but she’s not there. Jake’s door is open, though, so I knock.
He gives me a strained, tired smile. “I assume you’re looking for Queenie.”
“I am, sir.”
“She’s not here.”
“Is she okay?”
He sets his pen down on his desk and runs a hand through his hair—based on the state of it, he’s been doing this a lot today. “That’s a loaded question.”
“I’m sure it is. She’s had a difficult twenty-four hours. Does that mean she’s at home?”
“She is. She’s going to take some time off.” I can see where she gets her reticence from, seeing as Jake likes to provide limited answers much like his daughter does. Although it’s very possible he doesn’t have an actual answer.
“More than a few days?”
“I’m not sure. She’s pretty upset right now, and facing the team after what happened last night won’t be easy for her if she decides coming back is what she wants to do.” He sighs and leans back in his chair, lacing his hands behind his neck. “And I honestly don’t know if having her come back is the right thing to do.”
