Stay(72)

“I don’t really remember Uncle Ethan, but Mom says he’s cool.” He looked at his pencil a minute. “I’ll get to know my cousins.”

“Cousins can be fun.” I leaned back in my chair, waiting to see what this smart little guy would say next.

“Thanks for what you did for us. Taking me in and helping me get my surgery.” He pressed his lips together and nodded as if he got it right. “You made my mom really happy.”

An ache moved through my chest, and I told him one truth I’d learned. “Nothing is ever permanent. But you never lose true friends. I’ll always be your friend.”

The night before they drove away, I walked through my big, empty townhome, standing in the doorway of the blue bedroom, staring at Eli’s empty bed. I think he was happy here. I was happy having him here.

I think she was happy here…

I walked up to my bedroom, then I stopped as I stared at my empty bed. Why the fuck do I need such a huge-assed bed? I’m a tall man, but I’m not obese. I’m a healthy weight, physically fit. Why do I need a California King? It’s bullshit.

The next morning, I got over myself and took the car down to the Village. I pulled up in front of Miss Con-Cleaneality, surprised to see Lulabell standing on the sidewalk out front looking in the direction I’d just come. A handkerchief was in her hand, and she was dabbing her eyes.

The sign above her read, “Happy whatever doesn’t offend you day.” I stepped out of my car, and Lou gave me a sad smile. “You just missed her.”

My chest tightened, and I turned quickly, staring up the street in the direction she faced.

They were gone.

Almost three thousand miles.

“Go get them.” Lou’s quiet voice pleaded.

It felt like a stab straight to my heart.

“She’ll be happier there.” I looked down, hating everything in the world. “She only has sad memories here.”

“Are you sure?” I glanced at her, and she gave me a watery smile.

I couldn’t answer her question.



* * *



“Stephen? Do you have any questions?” Remi is looking at me on the video screen. “Everything look good?”

Hell, I have no idea. “How about you leave it with me, Skip. I’ll take it for a test drive tonight.”

“Uh, it’s Phillip, sir.”

“Sorry?” I cut my eyes at him, and he pulls away from the screen.

“My name…” His voice is timid. “It’s Phillip.”

“Sorry, we got it.” Remi’s cheerful tone seems to relax the kid. “Thanks, Phillip.”

I’m annoyed at my partner’s interference. I kind of liked seeing the beads of sweat pop out on Skip’s forehead.

“I’ll be in touch.” My tone is flat, my gaze piercing.

Phillip signs off, and Remi swivels in his chair. “Trying to scare off all the help?”

I’m angry and growly. “He has no creativity. He repeated back word for word exactly what I told him to do. Where’s the innovation there?”

“If I recall correctly, the last time he tried to innovate, you bit his head off for not following the script.” Remi’s voice rises, and I toss a pen on my desk.

“It was a stupid change. Linking to social media adds no value to the app. It makes it ridiculous.”

“It could have good marketing implications.”

“Marketing.” The word is a bad taste in my mouth. “You don’t market healthcare. You provide it.”

Remi makes that annoying face like he’s psychoanalyzing me. “How long has it been now? A month?”

“What are you talking about?” My stomach clenches, and I know exactly what he’s talking about.

“I can spell it out for you if you need me to spell it out for you.” He sits forward, and I don’t often see Remington lose his temper. “Emmy moved to Seattle a month ago? Took that little boy with her?”

“Don’t fuck with me Key. I’m not in the mood.” I don’t want to fight with Remi.

“Well, I’m sick as shit of your tyrannical behavior. Word gets around. You’ll be coding all your own apps if you piss off too many people. Nobody will want to work with us.”

His expression is serious, and I hate to admit he’s right.

Clearing my throat, I sit forward in my chair. “You’re right.” I press my lips together a moment. “I’ll follow up with Skip, tell him he did a good job, offer him a bonus for… I don’t know. I’ll make up something.”

“His name is Phillip, and that bonus is coming out of your end, not mine.” He’s grinning now, and it’s annoying as fuck.

“Fine.”

He leans back, tossing a baseball. “You know, you told me something a few years ago. What was it? Stop making things so hard?”

Standing, I straighten my blazer and reach for the mouse. “That sounds like something I’d say.” I’ve had enough of apologizing. I need a drink.

“Stephen!” I hesitate, catching the glint in his eye. “Take your own advice. Go get her.”

My hand hesitates before I end our call. I think about what she said, needing time. Is four weeks enough time?