Page 87 of Kindling
Fraser groaned.
Jack obeyed.
As Andy opened the kit and produced a packet of bandages, they continued, “Fraser has chased off the woman he loves because he is scared.”
“Uh oh. That’s a very bloke-ish thing to do, mate.”
That was an insult, as far as he was concerned. Fraser prided himself onnotbeing a bloke, or at least not a typical one. Not like Jack and his series of unfortunate escapades featuring too much beer, and too many lasses whose names he couldn’t remember.
He winced as Andy wiped down his wound, revealing the gash beneath the blood. It wasn’t deep enough to warrant stitches – or so he told himself. Two hospital trips in as many days would be excessive. He was sure Sorcha would help him out later, not before reprimanding him for being an incompetent tube.
“He thinks that he has too many people to take care of, and being with Harper would be too much,” Andy informed as though he wasn’t there at all. “Of course, this is an absolutely bonkers assessment.”
“Absolutely,” Jack agreed solemnly. Then frowned. “Why?”
“Because,” Andy locked their gaze on Fraser’s, “his family and friends are quite capable of looking after themselves, even if he is a very kind, supportive individual skilled at taking care of people and places.”
He rolled his eyes. “My sister is barely holding it together.”
“Well, that’s not true. Your sister went out on Saturday and had a nice wee day with her kids and her new friend, Harper. I saw her smiling with my own eyes.”
“My mum raised us all on her own!” he reminded Andy. “She needs help, too!”
“Sheneededhelp when you were kids. Now, she lives with her daughter and three grandchildren. I reckon when she needs an extra set of hands, she’ll ask for it. Don’t you?” Andy said sternly.
He glowered, hating that they made it sound so simple. So easy. “She has her own health issues. Living with arthritis isn’t easy for her.”
“Good thing a team of doctors and support workers, as well as allthreeof her children, are helping her with that,” Andy retorted. “Please, do continue with the excuses.”
He was having trouble finding any more, honestly. He looked to Jack for help, but he only shrugged. “You’re on your own, mate.”
“There’s work,” Fraser decided. “I’m always working.”
“Oh, yeah, with that business that Harper herselfhelped you set up.”
His friend was impossible. He was quite sick of their rationality, honestly. Usually, it was Andy’s job to be unreasonable, and his job to talk them down.
“And,” Andy cut in before he could say more, “don’t you dare use this place as an excuse, either. I know I’ve been hard on you, but most of it was either in jest or a ‘me’ problem, and I suppose I didn’t actually realise how much of a nitwit you are. By that, I mean how much you choose to put on your plate, beyond what we ask of you.”
They bit through some tape, wrapping it around Fraser’s bandages. Then, they softened. “I’m sorry for that.You’ve done more for me than I know how to thank you for, and I never meant to make it seem otherwise.”
“Now I know something’s wrong. Andy is apologising,” he murmured.
“Honestly, I’m getting a wee bit uncomfortable.” Jack tugged at the collar of his shirt with a grimace. “We’re not going to start singing around a campfire, are we?”
“Grow up. This is how adults talk,” Andy snapped. “By the way, I hate it when you make me act emotionally intelligent. I’m supposed to be the moody eejit, not you.” They poked Fraser in the shoulder. “So do me a favour. Put your big girl pants on and tell the bloody woman you love her. Yes, it is scary, and yes, I too would shite myself, but she made you happy. More importantly, she mademehappy. Her paintwork was actually very good!” They motioned to the walls behind them, now a smooth, creamy shade of orchid white.
Fraser rolled his eyes. “It isn’t that simple. She lives in Manchester.”
“Oh, no. Not that terribly far away city inaccessible by public transport!” mocked Andy.
Jack snorted. “They have a point, Fraser. It isn’t that far in the grand scheme of things.”
This intervention was starting to feel an awful lot like a press gang. He scowled at both of them. “It’s far away enough to disrupt my old life!”
“Love is disruptive. She’s been gone a few hours and you’ve already chopped off your finger. You can’t expect things to be easy, Fraser. That isn’t how life works. Except for me. I refuse to suffer through anything remotely difficult.”They slapped his shoulder and stood up. “Anyway, now that you’ve clearly decided to sort out your shite and live happily ever after, we need to go back to my problems. Is Harper still going to be here for the big party or not?”
Fraser breathed out hard and leaned against the wall, the smell of fresh paint making him dizzy. At least the throbbing in his finger was already fading. All that drama, and it was only a wee gash. He would have been embarrassed if he wasn’t so rattled. “Probably not. By then, she’ll have a job. Her old life back.”
