Page 54 of Even After Sunset

The conversation with Richard starts off the same as always. Small-talk, a couple of predictable questions… And then:

“Have you been drinking, son?”

It’s a sucker punch that hits me straight out of left field and I cough in surprise: I am an ace at acting sober when I’m sauced. But Richard’s leaning in close to the screen, presumably scrutinizing me for telltale signs.

“What? No,” I spit out instinctively, like the implication is insulting. Which it is because, like I said, acting sober when I’m drunk is one of my few, but highly refined, skills. It’s only when I’m blackout drunk that I’m ever off my game. And I amfarfrom that level of inebriation right now. Unfortunately.

“I’ve been helping Jackie sell cookies.”

Partial truth.

“Oh?”

He looks surprised. Happy, even. No longer suspicious, though. I don’t think.

“Yeah. She was working on some stuff on her computer, so I took over for a while.”

“Well, that’s fantastic,” he says, back to his cheerful tone. “Wonderful, Silas… That was really nice of you.”

“Yeah.” I roll with it. “I, uh, I should probably go back to helping her, actually. It’s a pretty busy night.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s good to hear! And tomorrow evening is a night off, correct?”

“Uh…”

“That’s what it says on the schedule Jackie gave us.”

“Oh. Yeah, then I guess it is.”

“Great. Well, I’d like to chat longer tomorrow evening, if that’s alright?”

Fuck no, it’s not alright.

“Sure.”

“Good stuff,” he says. All jovial, like we’re buddy-buddy. Like we’regood chums.

“I’ll let you go, then,” he finishes. “Tell Jackie we’ll talk to her tomorrow. Meryl wants to catch up with her, too.”

“Sure, yeah. I’ll tell her.”

I hang up then. No way am I lingering any longer than necessary. Especially now that the good doctor has shared his plans to start excavating the deep recesses of my emotions tomorrow.

When I look up, Jackie is watching me. Her expression isn’t one I recognize though, and it frustrates me that I can’t tell what she’s thinking the way I used to.

“Dick says hi,” I tell her, because I want to wipe that expression off her face and replace it with one I know. It’s a shitty thing to do, but it works: her eyes flare and the anger reflected back at me now is familiar. And it gives me a childish sense of satisfaction; knowing that I ruffled her feathers and that I brought her down to my level.

“Youknowhis name is Richard.”

“Dick is short for Richard,” I smirk, eyes still locked on hers. “Just a friendly nickname.”

I have no idea why I’m being such an asshole. I have no reason to feel spiteful toward her right now. Yeah, she has someone back home who’s checking in on her and gives a crap, and I don’t. But I don’twantthat: people up in my business all the time, constantly checking in on me like Richard is doing with me right now. It’s a pain in the ass.

Jackie’s eyes narrow, and she looks mildly disgusted with me. I don’t entirely blame her.

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