happen at all.
I nursed my beer and glanced over at Nunzio. He was still watching me, clearly expecting a response.
“It was insane,” I said finally. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“You had fun, though?”
“Yeah, I did.”
He nodded, still too serious for the nature of the conversation. “Would you do it again?”
My head filled with a chorus of resounding yeses . That morning, stone-cold sober and sick as a dog, I’d thought about having a replay. Hours later, the events of the night before were much further away and an affirmative just seemed awkward.
I rubbed a hand over my face as if that would wipe away the dirty thoughts, along with their effect on me. “Look, I don’t know. I can’t even think about that now. I’m in a terrible mood thanks to my family, and we need to talk about something real.”
“Okay. Sorry. I just wanted to make sure—” Nunzio cut off the sentence with a shake of his head. “Doesn’t matter. What’s the deal? Is Raymond being a pain in the ass?”
“I wish it were that easy. My father is back and wants to live in the house.”
Nunzio’s eyebrows disappeared into the unruly mess of his black hair. The grim set of his mouth made it clear he already understood the gravity of the situation. Nunzio had been there for most of the trouble with my father, and had even had some of his own. Joseph was one of those polite homophobes who waited until the offending gay was out of earshot to mutter about their life choices being a shame. Like that made it better.
“Damn. Where did that come from? He hasn’t been around in months.”
“Not since the reading of the will. He and my aunt showed up and announced that he’s moving back in. Since he owns half of the house, there isn’t much I can do about it. If I try to throw him out, it will get ugly. My aunt and uncle would for sure fight me on it and probably even take my ass to court.”
“What did Raymond say?”
“Looked a few seconds away from throwing his fists up and forcing my father out.”
“Sounds like Ray.”
“Yeah, exactly. The two of them locked in the house together with nothing to do but be unemployed and ornery is going to make my life really fucking fantastic.”
Nunzio winced.
“Your face is my thoughts. I’m so done with all of this shit.”
“So be done with it for real. Just move out.”
“I can’t.”
“You did before, and that was when your mother was still living.”
We’d had this argument in the past, and it wasn’t the first time I felt myself getting defensive in response to the pointed questions. I rolled my shoulders and looked up at the television again.
“Mikey, you gotta stop this shit. I know you feel like it’s your responsibility, but at some point you have to live your own life. I’ve told you so many times before, bro. Move out, save what’s left of your sanity, stay with me until you find a new place, and be done with it once and for all.”
“And trust Raymond and my father to take care of the house? You know that won’t happen.”
“Then convince them to sell the house! I’m pretty sure your pops will not argue with the chance to get half of the money you’d earn on it. It’s worth twice as much as it was when they bought it.”
“No.”
“Why? Just explain to me why you want to keep making yourself miserable.”
“Because my mother worked herself to the fucking bone to get that house, and I’m not going to get rid of it.” My voice rose enough to carry over everything else in the bar. The din of noise quieted. I felt people staring. My face warmed, and I grabbed my beer.
Nunzio spread his hands in surrender. “I just want you to be happy. Okay? Sorry.”
“I know that, but you need to understand that it’s not as simple as you make it sound. It’s complicated. I have to worry about Raymond—”
“Because you and your mother both babied him,” he interrupted. “I love Ray like my own brother, but he’s
Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child