Page 32 of Go Back to December
“Thanks.”
“Wherever he’s watching over you from, he’s proud of you.”
He says it with the same quiet confidence Baz exudes, even when he’s wrong, like Peter is about this. My father rarely watched over anything I did while he was alive. I can hardly imagine he’s changed that much in the afterlife.
“So, you and Baz are all set for tomorrow?”
If I remotely knew what that meant, I’d form a coherent response.
“I offered to stop by his place and get him some things for the night,” Peter adds. “But Dooley brought him a bag, and he said you’d take care of the rest in the morning.”
When he hands me a set of keys, I say something banal like Of course, I’ll get them first thing.
As soon as I figure out where his son lives. I’d send Baz a furious text about this convoluted scheme, but I don’t have his goddamn number. I left the hospital in such a daze I completely forgot about asking him, and the pretentious bastard doesn’t list his mobile in the Blackhart & Steele directory.
My phone pings, like it knows I’m thinking shit about it behind its back.
Undisclosed
Is dislocating someone’s knee the date when you get her digits?
Asking for a friend.
There should be a tone filter for texts. I can’t tell if Baz is being bitingly sarcastic or slightly flirtatious. Both are annoying distractions from my quest to bring about his demise.
Who’s this?
Undisclosed
Major Tom.
The “Space Oddity” reference sends my pulse skittering. While Bowie is a regular on the café’s playlist, Baz and I have never talked about the Starman.
Except for that night at the Jungle House.
Wrong number. This isn’t Ground Control.
Isn't it?
You’ve had too many protein pills.
I do feel as if I’m floating.
Peter slides a glance at my phone.
“Baz is texting to check in.”
“How’s he holding up?”
“He’s quoting David Bowie. Either he’s bored out of his skull, or they’ve given him the good drugs.”
Peter laughs, a rich, bright dad laugh. I want to listen to it on repeat forever. And I resent Baz for pushing him away, for taking for granted that he has a father who turns on seat warmers before someone gets in the car. One who didn’t let their rocky relationship stop him from rushing to Baz’s hospital bed.
Get some rest. We’re good to go for tomorrow.
Your dad gave me your keys.
He did?
