Page 45 of Just for December

Duke shakes his head. ‘You’re impossible.’

‘Correct,’ she says, and smiles again. ‘Anyway. Tea? Or I can call up for some food …?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, I’m fine,’ he replies, and then he thinks of his scenes tomorrow, how he’ll probably look terrible, all things considered. It’s very late. ‘Maybe just grab me a mineral water from the mini bar?’ He can at least stay hydrated.

She gives him a bottle and takes one for herself, settling into a chair.

‘Want me to talk or type?’ she says, and then she yawns. ‘Sorry,’ she adds.

‘I was just thinking of how I googled you after I readNo Stopping Usand found, like, zero information on you. I was so eager to know who was behind that story.’

She shrugs. ‘Well,’ she says. ‘Now you know.’

‘Yeah,’ he says. She’s waiting for him to say more about his mother. He can tell. But what is there to say?

‘I’m going to call my mum in the morning,’ Duke opts to say. ‘I mean I told her I would, so I don’t really feel like I’ve got a choice.’

Evie nods. ‘Well,’ she tells him. ‘You’ve always got a choice.’

‘Do I? She came all this way. She says she’s sober. She has a boyfriend? Apparently? I was too stunned just now to ask her everything I want to ask her. If she’s going to be here, I want her to answer my questions.’

Evie tips her head, absorbing everything he’s saying.

‘Well, that’s good, isn’t it? Getting a lucid conversation out of a drunk parent … the chance for some closure? Pretty rare.’

Ah. Of course. Evie’s dad drank. She’d said so in passing.

‘Is all this making you think of …?’ Duke starts, but Evie holds up a hand.

‘No,’ she says. ‘This isn’t about me. But for what it’s worth, I suppose if my dad did show up, I’d hear him out too. Do you want me to come for moral support?’

‘I’m okay,’ he says, and then he thinks to himself:because even you asking helps.Something stops him from saying that out loud, though. ‘I’m going to try and get some sleep now.’

‘Good plan. I’m right here at the foot of your bed if you need anything.’

He falls into a dreamless sleep almost instantly.

24

Duke

At his request, his mother comes to meet him at his hotel, so that they can talk in relative privacy. Nobody asks him who the older woman with greying hair around the temples is, but it’s probably obvious: they have the same nose, the same hands, the same feline eyes. Daphne passes by with Katerina, the DP, and then Brad, who seems to be distracted by yelling at someone down the phone. Duke doesn’t introduce her. Nobody approaches them. The atmosphere must be apparent.

‘Thank you for this,’ his mother says, as she sits down and orders a tea. Duke can’t eat. His stomach is in knots, wrapping around itself in anxiety. Evie was gone when his alarm went off this morning, a note on his coffee table wishing him luck. He’d searched online for what to do with a newly sober parent, but even as he typed it out, he struggled to believeit. He wants her to prove it to him. He’s here to look into her eyes to see if they’re as glassy and glazed over as he remembers from too many days, and too many nights, when it felt like nobody cared, like if he slipped out of the front door and never came back, somehowthenshe’d be happy. Why couldn’t he make her happy?

Nothing he did was enough, so he must have been the problem.

‘I know I’ve ambushed you,’ she continues, as her tea is set down in front of her. ‘Like I said – I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t even know if this would work, but I had to try. I sort of can’t believe we were in the same restaurant …’

Duke blinks. He can’t find it in him to be pleasantly chatty, but really, why should he? ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Ain’t fate funny?’

His mother bites her lip, understanding his tone. She sips her tea. Duke watches her.

‘I am an addict,’ she tells him. ‘And I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.’

Duke keeps watching her. His breathing gets shallow, and he’s aware, in the back of his mind, that he can see the quick rise and fall of his chest in his peripheral vision.

‘There’s no excuse for what I’ve done. I won’t try to find reasons for letting you down, and I don’t need you to say it’s okay or that you forgive me. I broke your trust over years, and so if you ever decide to let me try to build it back up, I will commit the rest of my life to that. They say relapse is always possible, but I’m not going back to who I was. I’m really not. I don’t need you to do anything for me. I don’t need you to help me through this. I’m fine. I’ve got AA, andRoger, and a job, now, too. I’m just so glad you even called this morning, that I get to see you, your handsome face, pet … My love has not been enough,’ she tells him, and she’s welling up, looking up to the ceiling like somehow that might stem her tears. ‘But it’s all I have. So … I’m going to try, okay?’

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