- GAGE -
Gage:
Landed in L.A. Went to the bathroom. There were two people going at it in a stall. Seriously. In the middle of LAX.
Pip:
Airport bathroom? Gross. Cole and Paige didn’t take a late honeymoon, did they? It could be them.
Gage:
So no public restroom nookie when I get home?
Pip:
Hell no.
Gage:
Walking to the gate for my connecting flight now.
Waiting at the gate.
Pip:
What’s with the running commentary?
Gage:
I don’t want you to think I’ll disappear on you again.
Pip:
So I can assume you’re going to spend all of your international data usage on keeping me up to date on your every move?
Gage:
Yup.
I just itched my knee.
Pip:
Be still my beating heart. You say such sweet things, my love.
Gage:
I think I got bitten by a mosquito. My knee is really, really itchy.
Pip:
Stop. You’re getting me hot.
Gage:
It’s a little concerning if itchiness makes you hot.
Pip:
Sarcasm is hard to detect in text message. You need me to type *sarcasm sign* every time I’m sarcastic?
Gage:
Hmm, might be more time efficient if you write *totally serious* whenever you’re NOT sarcastic.
Pip:
Good plan. I need to cut this short. I’m exhausted and ready for bed. Safe flight for the last leg of your trip. Miss you already.
Gage:
Goodnight, babe. Love you.
Pip:
XO
I was doing the right thing, even though it sucked being away from Pip already. Odie never called me back, but I did get an email from him that said I’m ok. Stop freaking out.
I didn’t believe him.
By the time I’d landed in Roanoke and organised an airport shuttle service, it was dusk when I knocked on Odie’s door. I didn’t tell him I was coming, because I knew what he’d say—don’t bother.
There was no answer.
His car was in the drive, but he might’ve gone for a walk. I tried the doorhandle, but it was locked. I tried calling him, but there was no answer, which meant I had three options: walk into town to try to find him and risk being seen by the assholes in this place, wait him out in the backyard, or try to find a way in.
I made going into town option C because of obvious reasons. Heading around to the back of the house, I climbed the porch steps. I froze when I saw Odie’s lifeless form on the couch through the window.
His skin was pale, and I couldn’t tell if he was breathing; there was no movement in his chest.
“Odie!” I yelled. The backdoor rattled on its hinges as I tried to open it.
Going into combat mode, I leant back and kicked the piece of shit in. When I stormed into the room, Odie was in a sitting position, his brow furrowed, eyes scrunched, and smacking his lips as if his mouth was parched.
“What crawled into my mouth and died?” he asked and then opened his eyes properly. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Missed you too, Odie.”
The room smelled of sweat and bourbon. Odie looked like he hadn’t shaved or showered in days. “What time is it?” he asked.
“Dinner.”
He stood fast and almost lost his balance. “Shit, I’m late for work.”
I blinked at him, wondering if he was joking. “You’ve been drinking all day?”
“I’ve been forgetting. There’s a difference.”
I stepped forward and took him into a hug, holding my breath as the stench of alcohol and BO filled my nose. “I’m home. For as long as you need me.”
“Ah, fuck.”
***
Odie wasn’t impressed I was back. He was even less impressed I got straight stuck into cleaning up after him. I was elbow deep in dishwater in the kitchen when my phone started ringing. I hit answer right away, wet hands and all. Odie glared at me from opposite the kitchen island.
“So, how is he?” Pip asked immediately.
“He’s standing right next to him, and he’s not a child,” Odie said loudly.
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with the old guy’s hearing,” I mumbled.
Odie snatched the phone off me. “Hi, sweetheart. Can you please tell your oaf of a boyfriend that I’m fine, I don’t need a babysitter, and he’s needed more at home?”
I leant in to try to hear Pip’s response, but Odie pushed me away and took off with my phone.
I’d been home for a few hours, and in that time, Odie had showered and returned to his usual self instead of the drunk guy I found on his couch, but I got the feeling it was an act. He used the excuse that I was making him feel guilty about pulling me out of my normal life, and that’s why he wanted me to go back home, but I had the feeling it had more to do with sinking back into the black hole I found him in.
I was going to be here awhile. A month, at least. That meant I’d have to use Odie’s home office as my own and help out where I could. Wasn’t ideal being across the world, but there was no way I was leaving Odie the way he was, and I couldn’t leave Parsons’ in the lurch.
The timing sucked. Not only with work, but everything else. It was as if the universe was doing it on purpose. As if Pip and I didn’t belong together, so it kept throwing shit our way.
But I wasn’t going to back off this time. Fuck the universe. There were phone calls and Skype, and Pip wasn’t going to slip through my fingers again just because we were apart.
When Odie returned, he had my phone in his hand, but the screen was black. “She had to get ready for work. She’ll call you later.”
Fucking universe.
“Okay, old man,” I said. “Out with it. I’ve given you hours to come up with a good excuse for the place being a mess when you’re usually a neat freak, all the drinking, and being passed out in the afternoon.”
“I’m wallowing.”
“You’re being self-destructive. And if that’s coming from me, you know shit’s gotta be bad.”
Odie sucked in a sharp breath, but it was stilted. “I wasn’t ready for this. I thought I was. I knew he was sick. I knew what was going to happen.”
“You didn’t appear too affected by it,” I said. “I mean, you were sad, but you were dealing.”
“I thought I was. I was prepared for it, but you know when it really hit me? After I dropped you and Pip off at the airport and I came home to an empty house.”
“You should’ve called me. I would’ve cancelled my flight and come right home.”
“This isn’t your home, Gage. Hasn’t been since you were eighteen. I have no right to force you to stay somewhere you don’t want to be just because I can’t bring myself to leave.”
“It is your right, as my father, to ask for help when you’re struggling. Screw my issues with this town. When the people turn up with their pitchforks and torches, I’ll gladly tell them all to go and get fucked.” I smiled, but Odie still wasn’t impressed. In a more serious tone, I said, “I won’t let them get to me anymore. You’re more important to me.”
“What about Pip?”
“What about her?”
“You two haven’t been together long. I don’t want to take that time from you.”
“Pip and I are going to be together forever. We’ll get through this. Just like you’ll get through losing Dad. I promise.”
“Well, remember, forever might not be as long as you think it is.”
“Od—”
“I need to go to bed.”
I let him go, knowing now wasn’t the time to give him hope for a future he couldn’t see. He wasn’t ready to hear it yet. “I’ll finish up here.”
I wish I knew how to help him, but I had no idea. I was dealing with Dad’s death as best I could. There were times I wanted to pick up the phone and call him and then realised I couldn’t. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like for Odie waking up alone after sharing a bed with someone for a quarter of a century.
After finishing the dishes, I got ready for bed myself. I’d been awake for a ridiculous amount of hours and planned to sleep for a solid thirteen hours straight.
Before crashing, I checked my phone and there was a message from Pip, sent not that long ago.
Pip:
He seemed okay on the phone??
Gage:
It was an act. He’s a mess.
Pip:
Do you have a guess time-frame-wise about how long you might be staying so I can tell Tony and delegate your work to some interns?
Gage:
I’ll get back to you tomorrow. I’m hoping to use Odie’s office. I should still be able to help out.
Pip:
Oh. So we’re talking long-term type thing?
Gage:
At this point, I just don’t know. But this doesn’t change anything between us. I’ll miss you like crazy, but I’m going to call and message, and we’ll talk every day.
Pip:
Get some sleep. I’m on my way into work now.
Gage:
Here’s something to keep you missing me. Why can’t you trust trees?
Because they’re shady.
Pip:
We’re not going to make it if you break out the dad jokes.
Gage:
That would make me become a sad cup of coffee …
I’d be depresso.
Pip:
Did you hear the one about the guy who told too many puns?
Gage:
No.
Pip:
He had no friends …
This isn’t a joke.
Gage:
Love you too.
And that was how Pip and I survived the longest few months of our lives. With awful jokes and missing each other like crazy.