Page 17 of Guitars and Cages

I yanked out the end-table drawer in my haste to open it, so I turned the contents onto the bed to make searching easier. Hey, there was that damned book I’d meant to finish.

Ring.

“Oh, bloody hell!”

“Uncle Asher?”

“Rory, find the phone!” I snapped.

Ring.

“But Uncle Asher!”

“What?” I snapped as I turned to see him standing there holding the phone out to me, lower lip quivering. Dammit all to hell. I took the phone from him and reached to ruffle his hair in apology, but he pulled away with a scowl. Great, now I felt like an ass. I was gonna have to make it up to him later.

“’Ello?” I grumbled as I flipped the phone open.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to answer,” Kimber said, sounding miffed.

Joy, just what I needed.

“Sorry, I, uhh, couldn’t find my phone,” I muttered, wondering why it was that every time I talked to her it was uhh this and uhh that.

“Well, at least you haven’t managed to misplace my son,” she snapped, and I cringed.

“Naw, the kid’s right here.”

“His name is Rory!”

Fortunately I didn’t have the phone to my ear when she yelled, but I could tell Rory heard her ’cause he reached for the phone eagerly, no doubt about to tell her how I’d just yelled at him.

Or not.

He started telling her about the derby and the geese and the pancakes I’d managed to make that morning and not burn. I was kinda proud of those. After a while he stopped talking and I could tell he was listening to something he didn’t wanna hear ’cause he started frowning and scowling until a couple tears slid down his cheek.

“All right, I will,” he said sadly and all but threw the phone back at me before running from the room.

“Okay, so what’s got the kid, err, Rory, all upset?” I asked as I sat on the edge of my bed.

“He’s upset that it’s taking longer than I’d hoped,” she said, yawning in my ear. “I never expected things to be so expensive up here. Even with the promotion, I can’t afford a seven-hundred-dollar-a-month apartment, let alone the utilities and all the other fees I never thought about. There’s school fees here—I don’t understand half of it, but it doesn’t seem like there’s going to be a quick or easy fix.”

“How’s the new job going?” I asked.

“I love the job, but I hate that I can’t have Rory with me yet. I miss him.”

I lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I know he misses you, too. Hell, you could always give up on Canada and come live with me.”

She paused, and I could hear the sharp intake of breath from the other end seconds before she launched into a tirade that had me pulling the phone away from my ear.

“Live with you in that pigsty you call an apartment, with what, rats and roaches for our neighbors? And I suppose you’ll do what, get a respectable job and actually try to make something of yourself? Oh, wait, I know: you’ll suddenly decide that youarecapable of fatherhood and you’ll coach Rory in Little League and get involved with the PTA and maybe even learn how to cook a decent meal so I wouldn’t have to do every goddamned thing for you like you were the fucking child!”

I cringed, because Kimber wasn’t one for tossing the cusses around.

“Here’s a thought; we could get married and you could knock me up since we all know how good you are at managing to plant seeds and then run away. Then I can have two little mouths to worry about feeding and taking care of while you’re off God knows where playing guitar for the drunks and the junkies and the whores you’re so fond of!”

“Kimber, I just meant—”

“I know what you meant, Asher. You meant the same thing you’ve meant since you decided to screw up my marriage by running away and acting like a fucking child whose toy got taken away. I am not a toy, Asher. Nor have I ever been yours, and I wish like hell you’d get that through that thick skull of yours. You were my husband’s fucked-up kid brother and I always tried to take care of you and look after you like the kid you were when you moved in, and how did you repay that? Do you remember, Asher?”

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