Page 52 of Sublimate
“We could look into it, through a person besides my nosy mother,” he offered. “Think about it.”
“And you should think about a profession. Not just a job to fill your time, but something that you really enjoy. You could also get a job for now to fill your time because I think you need that.”
“Are you sick of me being around?”
“Nolan!” I stared at him. “This is your house! Do you think I would order you out of it?”
“I feel like it’s ours,” he told me and I may have whistled.
“This house is mine? No, it isn’t,” I answered, “and even if it were, I wouldn’t tell you to leave. I like being together.”
“Because I feed you bread,” he said. He cut another slice which he handed over. “I have been thinking about the future.”
“About a career?”
“That and other aspects of it. I’ve been considering Beau’s life.”
Things seemed to be turning out all right for Beau—a lot better than I would have predicted. He was forging ahead with his business and from what I’d heard, he was doing it right (meaning that he was doing it legally and in an organized way). He already had a few clients, like a football player who was married to his former assistant, some other guys from the team, and also non-sports people who had enough money to pay for his sartorial assistance. That just meant he was helping them pick clothes, and he had a great eye for it. I was glad that it wasworking out for him and I was also glad that he wasn’t still upset with me butting into his life over dinner. He actually seemed kind of grateful that I had been worried about his son.
“He and his ex-wife were never planning to have children, and I thought that made a lot of sense,” Nolan said. “I thought they would have been as bad at that job as my parents were and I also thought that Beau was satisfied with his setup.”
“I thought you said that they had problems from the beginning, that his wife hated him for being lazy, and then she cheated on him.”
“You have a very good memory.”
“I know. Sometimes I wish that I didn’t because there are things I’ve wanted to forget.”
“A long time ago, I told you my phone number and I was sure that you wouldn’t remember…” We both looked over at the kitchen table, where his phone was currently ringing. I thought it might have been some type of ghostly phenomenon but he wasn’t bothered. “It’s my mother,” he said, and went ahead and answered.
“Allô—”
I watched his face change, going from slightly annoyed to shocked, and then to very worried. “What?” I whispered. “What’s wrong?”
“Il va bien?Qu’a dit le docteur?” He listened, still frowning. “Bon, je pars maintenant.” He put down the phone and seemed to talk to himself. “With the weather today, driving will be best.”He swiveled and ran up the narrow staircase that connected the second and third floors to the kitchen.
I followed. “What’s going on?” I called as I went toward his room. He had a bag on his bed and was already putting in clothes.
“That was my mom. She believes that my dad had a heart attack. He’s at the hospital now but she doesn’t have much information. Someone is supposed to call her.”
“Why would they call her? Can’t they just talk face to face?”
“She’s at her law office,” he explained. “I have to go and be there with him.”
I thought of how both he and Cadence had come to the hospital for me—me, someone who was pretty much a stranger. His mom and dad must have been married for thirty years, and she hadn’t left work? “I can drive,” I said.
“What? You don’t have to come. Don’t you have houses to do?”
“Not really.” That had been a problem—my income had dropped even further because I’d lost another client. She had texted a few days before and told me not to come back, and she hadn’t answered when I’d asked why and if I’d done something wrong. “I’ll keep looking for jobs while I’m downstate with you.” I had already filled out a lot of applications and Cadence and I had started a new spreadsheet to keep track of my progress. “It’s better for me to drive since you’re upset. I remember that when I first left Las Vegas, I was a wreck so I almost wrecked. That was dangerous.”
“I’m not upset,” he said. “I’m concerned.”
“Ok, I would still like to come if you don’t mind it. It won’t take me too long to pack.” I was already planning to grab the shirts that his mom would find the least offensive and the best fitting.
He zipped shut his bag. “I would be glad if you came. I’ll be in the car.”
It really didn’t take me too long to join him there and we started off, heading southeast through the sleety, cold rain. I was now licensed but I was still careful, especially in someone else’s vehicle. “This car is bigger than your old one and it’s twice as large as mine,” I mentioned. “Cadence says that safety in a crash doesn’t depend on the size but it does seem like there’s more metal to protect us.” Maybe it would help him to have a distracting conversation about various car models rather than thinking about how his dad was sick and alone in a hospital.
“I liked what I used to drive.”
