Page 36 of Waiting for Redemption

As if.

Those two are justtrouble waiting to happen.

* * *

Returning home after traveling is always the weirdest transition. It takes me about three days to unpack, and just as long to readjust to my routines. I hated leaving Hendrix but I knew he would be in good hands with Betty. Not to mention he would have either been extremely bored or extremely destructive atThe Gallery, and I didn’t want to gamble on which of the two it would be. We’ve been attached at the hip every second I've not worked since I got home—eating, playing with Play-Doh, Go-Fish, watching TV, or doing puzzles—and I’ve soaked up every single second. He’s currently passed out in my bed using my arm as a security blanket while Scooby-Doo plays on my small television. Just as I close my eyes to try and doze off with him, I feel my phone buzzing. I grab it with my free hand and see Tank’s name lighting up my screen.

That’s so weird, he never calls me.

“Hello?” I whisper, doing my best not to wake up Hendrix.

“Heyyyy,Honey.” Oh fantastic, he’s drunk off his ass.

“Tank, what’s wrong? Where are you?” The sounds of boisterous laughter floods through the other end of the line, as well as glass breaking which has me sitting up a little straighter.

“Oh, I’m just hanging out with Drengr. Lenny is super cool. We’ve just been chatting aboutstuff.” Someone says something I can’t quite make out that makes Tank snicker.

He snickers. Tank never snickers.

He’s worse off than I thought.

“Could you maybe come pick me up? I rode my bike and I don’t think I should drive it home.” The slur to his words makes him sound almost childlike and I’m alarmed thinking about what could have caused him to drink this much.

On a damn Tuesday night for that matter.

“Umm.No. In case you forgot I have a five-year-old, and he’s currently asleep on my arm.” He clicks his tongue as if he’s disappointed by my answer.

“Man, I don’t want to be alone. I’m so sick of being alone,” he says in a sad, cry-like whisper. My heart sinks a little at his words but I try to wave it off because he’sclearlyincoherent right now.

“You’re not alone. You said you were with Drengr. I’m not gonna bother askingwhyright now. But you’re not alone,” I remind him.

“It’s not the same. I wantedyou.” My heart jumps into my throat as his words flood through my ears. I bite my lip, trying to tell myself not to get too worked up as I contemplate what I want to do next. In the next second, I’m slipping out of bed and into my bathroom, turning the light on and sitting on the floor next to my bathtub as I click the FaceTime button on the screen.

“What the fuck?” I hear Tank say in a confused tone, making me giggle. “I think I’m getting another phone call.” Poor drunk thing. He finally catches on and clicks accept, bringing his face into view a moment later.

“There you are,” he says, with a more content look on his face. His green eyes are shining from the street light above him and his teeth look even whiter next to his dark facial hair when he smiles.

God, even drunk he looks amazing.

“Here I am. See, I told you you’re not alone.” He slides down a brick wall, taking a seat on the ground outside of what I assume is Drengr’s bar.

“What’s going on Tank? You wanna talk about it?” I ask, curious about what drove him to get so drunk tonight.

“No. Can we… Can we just sit together for a little bit?” he requests, deflecting any potential conversation about what’s happening right now.

“Of course.” We sit in silence for a while—aside from me humming to the music playing through the bar speakers where Tank is—until he finally starts dozing off while we’re on the phone.

“Okay, Tank. Why don’t you call Max to come get you?” He groans in response.

“Nah. Maybe I’ll just stay here. Or call a cap or something.”

“Do you mean a cab?” I say, enunciating the b.

“That’s what I said.” He blows a raspberry into the phone and I shake my head at him.

“Either you call Max, orIwill.”

“Fine,” he finally grumbles in agreement.

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