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“What’s crawled up your ass? Piece of pussy get you down?” Jeremy asked on day three post-Meg. He had no idea what door he had just opened with his casual douchery.
“Fuck off, Wyatt,” I snarled. I was trying to work on one of my dozen cases, but I had been circling around the same paragraph for the last hour. Finally, I shut down my laptop, slamming the lid down with a bang.
“It’s a good thing those are tax-deductible with the way you’re slamming around,” Jeremy joked, but his eyes were concerned.
“If you’ve got something to say, just say it. I’m not in the mood to banter,” I grumbled, putting my head in my hands.
Would driving by Meg’s mom’s house be considered stalking? I just wanted to see if she was around. I was terrified she’d pack up her stuff and head back to New York without my ever knowing.
Maybe I should just call June. She’d talk to me. She loved me. Or I could ask my mom…no. I couldn’t do that. I didn’t want to explain to her why the thought of Meg leaving threw me into a panic.
If I felt that way, I should just call her.
But I knew from experience, the more I pushed Meg, the farther she’d run. I didn’t want her to run so far that I couldn’t find her.
“Adam.”
I hadn’t realized Jeremy was speaking. He snapped his fingers in front of my face.
“What?” I barked.
Jeremy sat down in the chair across from my desk and for once didn’t prop his feet up like he owned the place. Jeremy’s propensity to stake ownership of anything and everything was one of his more obnoxious qualities. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “What’s up Ducate? You’ve been walking around here like you’ve got a thundercloud over your head for days. No one can say anything to you without you biting their damn head off. You yelled at Lena yesterday for bringing you the wrong sandwich at lunch. That wasn’t cool, man. You can be a dick to me or Robert but lay off your sister.”
“Excuse me?” I said, taken aback. I wasn’t used to Jeremy correcting my behavior. Typically that was my job. And since when was he Lena’s protector?
“You heard me. You can be a dick but save it for the courtroom.” Jeremy sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “Let me guess; your fantastic mood has to do with either your she-bitch ex or the hot artist you’ve been boning for the past month.”
I guess Meg and I weren’t as subtle as we thought. “Both,” I muttered, not bothering to deny the last part.
Jeremy looked pleased. “Figured as much. I’m a fucking ace at reading people. Don’t forget it was me that called the twist at the end of The Usual Suspects in the first five minutes.”
“Jesus, you’re still harping about that? The movie is over twenty years old. Give it up already.” I didn’t say it with any malice, though.
Lena popped her head in. She seemed as if she were bracing herself. Had I been that much an asshole lately? I already knew the answer. “Your one o’clock is here.” She glanced at Jeremy, and I swore they shared an unspoken communication. When did that start happening? It seemed I had missed a lot of meetings. “Everything okay in here?”
“All good. Isn’t that right, Ducate?” Jeremy asked, getting to his feet.
I shrugged, opening my laptop again.
Jeremy flashed me a hard smile. “Either do something about your predicament or get over it. But don’t go around moping like a bitch. It doesn’t suit the Adam Ducate badass image.”
“Yeah, yeah, now get the fuck out of here and let me do my job.” I shooed my partner out of my office, but I appreciated his advice, no matter how badly given.
**
The rest of the day had passed quickly enough, and I was able to get out of the office before seven. The thought of a long, empty evening alone had filled me with dread. So when my mother called and invited me over for dinner at the last minute, I jumped at the chance.
Something was healing about being with family when you were at your lowest. I needed the normalcy of food and conversation that only my parents and sister could provide.
“Mom, I brought those cheese rolls you like,” I called out, walking into my parents’ kitchen. I quickly looked around, hoping there would be some unexpected guests, just like the last time I had dinner at their house.
Lena was standing at the stove over a wok that was steaming wildly. She looked frazzled as she tried to contain the flames that had started to lick the side of the pan. Dad was chopping up onions and carrots at the counter. He waved over his shoulder. There was no one else around. It seemed it was a Ducate family affair only. I squelched my disappointment fast and hard.
