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I had my own shit to take care of, anyway. I’d had to make things up with Andrew after our fight, and then we had to work out the Lightning Man details. I didn’t party anymore. Instead I enrolled in my course and started studying. And coming up with more ideas. I had a thought that Lightning Man wasn’t the only comic I had in me. There were at least two others buzzing around in my brain. If he was game, Andrew was going to be my comics partner for a long time.
Which was also pretty fucking great, though I didn’t let myself think about it too closely.
Scout came out of her laundry burrow, blinking sleepily, and wagged her tail when she saw me. She did a wiggle, her whole hind end going back and forth, as she turned in a circle, her tongue hanging out. I patted her and she promptly rolled over, giving me her hairless belly to rub. I had to rub it with just my fingertips, because my palm was too big. She really was the stupidest dog on earth.
“What does Evie say about me?” Andrew said. “She must have said something.”
“She said I’m better-looking than you.”
“That’s a lie. When is she coming over for dinner?”
“Never, because you can’t cook.”
“I’d learn.”
“No. And why are you trying to impress my girlfriend?”
“Someone has to do it. You know, woo her. Give her some romance, make her feel special. And I thought she wasn’t your girlfriend?”
This was classic Andrew, trying to piss me off. I was in too good a mood to fall for it. “She’s my girlfriend,” I said, “but she’ll dump me if you cook for her, guaranteed.” I closed my book, stopped rubbing Scout’s belly—she jumped up immediately—and stood up. “I have to go. You need anything?”
“No, I’m good,” Andrew said. “Mom brought a few things by earlier.”
Right. Our mother, who had been coming to see Andrew, while avoiding me. I took how that made me feel and pushed it down, way down. “Okay then,” I said.
“She’ll come,” Andrew said. He had turned away from his computer, turned his chair to face me. “She’s just working up the nerve. But she will.”
“I’m not holding my breath.” I wasn’t going to call her, either. If she didn’t want to talk to me, there was nothing to say. I gathered my shit and my dog, said goodbye to my brother, and left.
I parked in front of my place and opened the back seat to get Scout. I tried to clip the leash to her collar, but she wasn’t having it. Instead she kept standing on her hind legs, waving her front paws at me. This meant she wanted to be picked up. She was surprisingly lazy for a dog who moved almost nonstop.
I slung the gym bag from the back seat over my shoulder and picked up my textbook. Then I picked up Scout, who promptly started licking my face. “Knock it off,” I told her, struggling against her small tongue while I bumped the door closed with my hip. She kept at me, aiming for the end of my nose. I hit the button to lock the car while dodging her. “Jesus, Scout, quit it.”
I turned around to see a woman standing there, watching my little show. My mother.
She was about fifty now, I supposed. Still slim, her back straight, her hair dyed and styled. She wore a linen blouse and skirt that looked nice and probably cost more than Evie made in a week. She was clutching her purse and looking at me with a worried smile.
I just stood there, in my old sweatshirt, with my bag and my book and my silly dog, staring back.
“Nick,” she said. “Can we talk?”
I thought I’d be cool whenever I saw her next. Instead I felt like someone had punched me in the chest and in the side of the head at the same time. “A month?” I said to her. “You’ve been going to see Andrew for a month, andnowyou want to talk to me?”
She winced, but she didn’t turn away. “It’s harder with you,” she said. “You’re tougher than he is. And I knew you were angry.”
“You think?” I said.
“I’m sorry,” Mom said, words I never thought I’d hear from her mouth. “I’m sorry about everything. And I’m sorry about what I said to you that last time, in the hospital.”
I can’t, Nick. I just can’t.That was what she’d said when Andrew had tried to kill himself the second time. I’d called her, and she’d come, but she’d left before he woke up.I just can’t.
I shouldn’t forgive her for that. But that particular crime wasn’t mine to forgive, it was Andrew’s. And Andrew made his own decisions. All I wanted was to see him happy.
Scout squirmed in my arms. “I can’t talk about this right now, like this,” I said. We were standing in the parking lot of my building. “I have to go.”
“Can we go inside and talk, then?” Mom said. “Can I come in? I have a lot of things I want to say.” She paused, while I stood rigid. “Please, Nick.”
Fuck. I shouldn’t do it. I should tell her to just fuck off and go home, leave me to my life. I should tell her there are no second chances.
