“Even if it is too late,” Erik said. “I gotta start owning this. What I did was wrong. And I’m sorry. I needed to come in person and say so.”
Will was still looking up, his lower jaw moving around. He closed his eyes. “If you don’t finish what you start this time,” he said. “If you disappear on her again, Fish, so help me God. I will kill you. I won’t just bruise you a little. I will bury you by the side of the road and piss on your grave.”
“It’s not lost on me how you picked up the pieces—”
“Bullshit,” Will said, standing up, his papers cascading to the floor. “You have no idea what it was like. For her or me.”
“You’re right, I don’t. Not yet. I didn’t come here just to make myself feel better and walk away again. I came to stand still and feel. Feel what I didn’t give Dais a chance to feel twelve years ago. Finish what I started.”
Will nodded, arms crossed over his chest, fingers working at the material of his shirt. Will didn’t fidget unless he was upset. Erik knew that. Knew it like he knew the sky was blue.
“I’m sorry,” Erik said.
“It hurt like hell, you know. Your fight with her was your fight with her but to throw me over the side…”
“I know. I ran like hell from everything. It was the only way I knew how to deal. Doesn’t make it right or excuse it, but I’m only just figuring out why I did it myself. It’s why I called her. It’s why I came here. I gotta own this. And I gotta feel it. You can bury your pain or avoid it. You can tattoo over it. But you won’t be free of it until you feel it. My own father never set my mom free. Never set me free. I came here to set Daisy free. I owe it to her. And I owe you at least one opportunity to punch me in the face and I won’t duck. Swing away.”
A smile began to curve up Will’s mouth. “Well, I’ll be fucked,” he said.
“I’ve been fucked for years. Be nice to have some company.”
Will shook his head, looking at the floor. “You’re killing me.”
“I’m sorry,” Erik said. He took the last few steps to close the gap and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m really sorry, Will.”
Will muttered some unintelligible French and then seized Erik. Grabbed him in arms and hugged him hard, his hands pummeling and patting until they both landed with a not-so-loving smack on Erik’s ass.
“Jesus,” Erik said. “I said in the face.”
Will pushed him away. “Wanted to do that for years. I best go for it before you disappear again.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Will started unbuckling his belt. “You’re going on your knees.”
Erik sprang back, laughing, and headed for the door.
“Yeah, that’s right. Run away, Fish.”
“It’s what I do,” Erik said. “No watching my ass as I run.”
“High and tight,” Will yelled after him. “Just like a girl’s.”
Build Something Beautiful
“It’s a sweet little house,” Daisy said, turning the key in her front door, “but I really bought it for the porch.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Erik said. The porch ran along the whole front of the small house and hugged one side. It was bare now, but he could imagine wicker furniture and flower boxes in spring. Daisy sitting out here with a book and some iced tea. He added himself into the scene, sitting on the steps, playing guitar.
It was too easy.
He was an idiot.
“Come in,” Daisy said.
It looked nothing like La Tarasque, and yet the moment Erik stepped inside, he knew every piece of furniture, every cushion and lamp and knick-knack had been chosen and placed to evoke the essence of her parents’ house. Right down to the Meyer lemon tree by the window.
She gave him a short tour of the downstairs, ending up in the kitchen.
“It’s a carbon copy of your mother’s,” he said, gazing around at the yellow walls, the red-enameled pots on a shelf. A basket of cloth napkins, a bowl of oranges.
“Not exactly. I don’t have her big table.”