Page 101 of Go Back to December

“Where did it happen?”

Slowly, he lifts his free hand and points in the distance, to the new bridge across the lake. The one they’re dedicating tonight.

To Allie.

“It’s not your fault, Baz. Allie drank the booze. He decided to drive.”

“It was a mistake.” His voice breaks. “One horrible mistake.”

I tug his arm closer. “Harping on his lapse in judgment doesn’t honor his life.”

“After everything, I left. Just fucked off and got on that plane to Amsterdam for my stupid internship because if I didn’t do something important, something meaningful, I felt like I would drown.”

“I can understand that. You needed to focus on a purpose other than yourself.”

The small smile he grants me fades quickly. “When I came home, everything had changed. No one would talk about Allie.”

“Have you ever talked to anyone about it?” I pause. “Like a grief counselor?”

With a sigh, he says, “I’ve been in therapy for a few months.”

“If I could afford it, I’d be in therapy all the time.”

He peers at me suspiciously.

“It gives me tools to deal with things. And I’m guessing it’s helping you too. It took a major shift for you to decide to show up for your family tonight.”

“I had to. They deserve better than I’ve treated them. And it was the only way to convince you to give me another chance.”

We stare at each other, both a little stunned by his admission.

“We all fuck up, Baz. The key is not letting the fuckups define us.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

“Didn’t you read my BuzzFeed piece, ‘Thirty Mistakes You Must Make Before You Turn 30’?”

“I thought that ran on Oprah.”

“You’re right. The BuzzFeed piece was ‘Worst Mascara Blunders for Color-Challenged Lashes.’”

He rumbles a laugh. Tension uncoils from his shoulders, and he glances down at our joined hands, like he can’t believe I’m here.

He leans toward me, Bowie eyes glinting. “I could consider a change of opinion about mistakes.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because mistakes are real.”

“Is that a commitment to reform? Will we be seeing less of Bad Bastard and more of Gentleman Johnson?”

“That depends.” He leans dangerously close to my lips. “Which Johnson do you prefer?”

My limbs tighten like a bowstring. “The court continues to hear arguments.”

His lips curl up.

“The court has observed copious evidence of Bad Bastard. For a thorough judgment, it would be beneficial to review Gentleman Johnson’s work.”