“Don’t mention it,” he says.
I walk over to the counter and put my watch back on, taking a minute to soak in how my hands look with my father’s cufflinks and watch. My uncle gave me the links this morning, telling me I could keep them too. I may never wear them again, but I want them all the same.
“So where is this fancy dinner thing?” my uncle says, stepping up behind me and holding my jacket out. More tight shit to shove my arms into.
“At the Woodsens’. Maddy’s mom thought it would be nice to have everyone over, sort of a team-building thing I guess,” I shrug.
Curtis showed up yesterday minutes after Maddy left, and I only heard half of the words he said, because my head was too busy trying to process what had happened with Maddy, and whether or not her dad saw her leave or passed her on the way out. Even though he probably would just assume she was here swimming, I knew she wasn’t. And the memory of us was so vivid I felt like he could see it in my eyes.
I focused enough to get that we would have this dinner, there were some sponsors he wanted a few of us to meet, and that he was lining up some interviews. I told him I’d have to think about the interviews, but when he left, I got the sense my thinking wouldn’t factor into whether or not they happened.
My uncle straightens the collar of my shirt and the shoulders of my jacket, brushing along the arms and front and pulling spots where things just look crooked. I own two suits, and the other one was the one I was arraigned in. That makes this one luckier, I suppose.
“You spent a lot of time with Maddy yesterday,” my uncle says, one eyebrow higher than the other. I lower one of mine, glaring at him.
“And…” I say.
“And…a lot of time probably gives you enough time to tell that girl the things she needs to know,” he says.
I scowl, stretching my arms and testing how far I can bend them in this woolen straight jacket. I stuff my wallet in my coat pocket and circle our small apartment for my keys, finding them and giving my uncle one more glance as I head for the door. He follows me out, waiting in the hallway, letting me get a few steps away before giving me one more thing to feel tormented over.
“You don’t owe anyone, Will,” he says.
I stop, my head slumps forward, and I think instantly of all the people I do owe.
“I mean all of them, too, Will. You don’t owe Tanya. You don’t owe Dylan. I know you have a big heart, and you’re trying to do what’s right, but don’t let it get in the way of giving yourself a little joy, ya know? You’ve earned it, son. This life is over in a blink. Don’t spend so much of it punishing yourself over something that wasn’t even your goddamned fault in the first place.”
I take his words in for a few seconds, then turn, my gaze rising just enough to find his righteous one.
“Hard to think that way when they’re all gone, Duncan. That’s all,” I say, turning and leaving without another word from my uncle.
It takes only a few minutes to get to the Woodsen home, and Maddy’s mom is out front greeting a couple who pulled along the curb right before me. I push my car into park and check my mirror, looking myself in the eyes for a last-minute gut check. I need to talk to Curtis today about taking Thursday and Friday off, and I know I’m going to have to give an explanation to Maddy. I won’t lie, but the entire truth can’t happen either.
There’s a loud knock on my passenger window, and my pulse doubles simply seeing her face. Maddy’s bent forward, her hair falling over one eye, her shoulders bare from the white dress that’s only held up by thin straps. Goddamn, she’s an angel.
I roll the window down.
“You comin’ in? Or you just planning on joining the party from out here?” She giggles and turns her head, looking at me sideways, and it does something unexpected to my chest—it fills it full.
I unlock the door, and she opens the passenger side, sliding in to sit next to me, pulling the rest of her long dress in between her feet before shutting the door and swinging her eyes my direction. I lean forward and fold my arms on the wheel, my head on my hands looking at her.
“I hate parties,” I say.
“Me too,” she says, the words coming from one end of her mouth. I smile seeing it, and she blushes. “What?”
“I have always…always…loved the way you talk,” I say.
My heart races again. Maddy looks down at her hands in her lap, and I worry for a second I’ve made her uncomfortable. She bites her lip, though, and a smile hits her mouth on the side closest to me just before she glances at me with her head cocked at an angle, and I’m instantly glad I said what I did.
“Think we can just skip it? Hit the gas, drive to…I don’t know…Chicago? Spend the day on Lake Michigan? Go to some museums. See the Cubs!”
Her eyes are wide, and I almost think she’s serious until she sighs and falls back into her seat.