New Winslow S8E58
“Hey, Andrew, can I talk to you for a minute?”
Andrew was walking from the bus stop toward his flat when Noah called. And the happy glow that had settled in as he answered now flickered into concern at Noah’s serious tone.
This wasn’t working out. Whatever this was, not that they’d really set any official labels or rules or anything beyond the fact that they loved each other. Noah was done with it, that hour and a half drive wasn’t worth it. Andrew had been too distant the past few days, he should have made the first move calling or maybe texted again when his texts went unanswered. He’d blown it.
“Yeah, of course,” Andrew said, dodging a small group of twentysomethings on the sidewalk as he passed the convenience store Cleo had worked at. “What’s going on?”
“I’m going back to treatment.”
Concern, relief, and joy all mingled together as Andrew reached his building and sat down on the steps instead of going inside. “That’s good,” he said softly, even as he wanted to cry. “That’s a good thing, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Noah repeated, and Andrew could picture him perfectly, sitting on the couch in his apartment. Probably running a hand through his hair the way he did when he was distressed. “Yeah, um, Liv said it was probably a good idea.”
And he’d just agreed? No way, Andrew knew Noah well enough to know that wasn’t the case. “You want to tell me what made you decide?” he asked gently, as though he didn’t already have an idea.
“I fucked up.”
He was less surprised than he wanted to be. “When?”
“The past couple days. Like right after you left. I wanted it so bad and everything was screaming and I just-” Noah sniffed away from the phone. “I can’t stop dreaming about it, Andrew. The cemetery. And I just wanted to sleep and not feel anything. And when I drank, the screaming stopped. But I can’t… I mean… And um…”
He trailed off and Andrew gave him a second, but he clearly wasn’t about to keep going. And Andrew knew Noah likely wasn’t sober right now either. “It’s alright,” he said. “You’re getting help. That’s good, I’m proud of you.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have to – Where are you right now?”
“I’m at home.”
The distance between Boston and New Winslow had seemed to shrink the other morning, when they’d skipped the train station and driven back together in Noah’s truck. But now it seemed endless. “Alright,” Andrew said, trying to keep his voice gentle as he got up and started walking inside. “I’ll be there in two hours. Please don’t drive anywhere. I’ll be there as soon as I can, I promise.”
“Liv’s downstairs, you don’t have to.”
Maybe Andrew was overreacting, but his gut told him otherwise. As he got into the kitchen, Cleo looked up at him in alarm, so he probably didn’t look as calm as he was trying to come across on the phone. “I need to go,” he said, cupping the receiver to muffle it, just a little. “Can I please borrow your car?”
She tossed him the keys where they were sitting on the table and he fumbled, then managed to awkwardly catch them against his chest. “Is Liv home?” he asked Noah, and he saw Cleo make the same connection he had.
“Yeah.”
“Does she know?”
“Yeah. Don’t come, you don’t have to. I’m sorry, I know you’ve been at work all day. I’ll let you go.”
“We’re not going down that road, Noah,” Andrew said. “We’re not doing that again. When do you start?”
“Thursday.”
“Inpatient, yeah?”
“No,” Noah said, and Andrew was surprised at the relief he felt. “Partial, um, partial hospi-”
He stopped midway. “I’m so sorry. I’ll leave you be.”
“Stay on the goddamn line,” Andrew said, keeping his voice light and pleasant. “Cleo’s going to come with me, so we’ll see you guys in a little while.”
That was apparently news to Cleo, but it didn’t stop her from getting up and finding her shoes.
“You don’t have to.”
“No kidding,” Andrew said, and Noah laughed, the sound brittle. “I want to see you anyway. I had this client today, I was thinking of you the whole time. It was so stupid. But I’ll tell you about it when I get there, yeah?”
———-
It was nearly two hours on the road before they finally pulled into the driveway outside the quiet duplex. It was dark and almost cold, and there were far more stars visible in the sky than had been last night at their Brighton apartment. Andrew’s back and shoulders ached as he stepped out of the car and he stretched awkwardly as Cleo got out on the passenger side, doing the same thing.
“We need to exercise more if we’re going to keep doing this drive,” she said with a laugh as she spotted him.
“Noah has invited me to run with him so many times,” Andrew said as they approached the house. “God forbid. But maybe he’s on to something.”
The light was on in the hallway and Andrew could hear quiet voices in Liv’s apartment, so he knocked lightly, then opened the door. Liv and Noah were sitting on the couch and he was relieved to see that Noah didn’t look too drunk. Red-eyed and miserable, absolutely. But he was upright with a glass of water in one hand, sitting at one end of the couch while Liv sat at the other with a cup of tea.
“You didn’t have to-” Noah started, but Andrew cut him off with a gentle kiss. He took the water out of Noah’s hand and set it on the coffee table, then stood and pulled him in tightly, Noah’s head coming to about his chest as Andrew stood in front of him. Noah fell against him, and Andrew stayed there for a moment, his hand against the back of Noah’s head.
“Thursday?” he repeated.
Noah nodded against him. “It’ll be good for you,” Andrew said.
“I’m sorry.”
He sounded sober, but Andrew had tasted the whiskey on his breath when he kissed him. “Nothing to be sorry for,” Andrew said, stroking his short hair. “You’re going to be fine.”
———
“It’s the right choice. No, no, I mean it.”
Celine was laying out tarot cards on the bedspread as Jamie watched carefully. Roman paced by the window nearby, talking gently and patiently on the phone in that way that made her fall a little more in love with each step he took in front of the floodlights outside. Jamie was trying his best to focus on the cards, but she could tell he was getting distracted by the movement as well.
“When’s your first day?” Roman asked. “Want me to drop you off?”
He laughed at whatever Noah said in reply. “No, make your own lunch,” he retorted. “We’re heading back to New Winslow tomorrow, I’ll be fine. Are you sure?”
“Alright,” Celine said softly to Jamie. “As you consider your question, flip the first card.”
Jamie was silent for a moment and she could see in his face how seriously he took this. Then he reached over, hesitated over the card, and flipped it. The Magician, reversed.
“What’s that mean?” Jamie whispered.
Celine studied the card, the old image on the worn deck nearly as familiar to her as her son’s face. “What do you have to lose?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Your intuition, your goals. Your power, baby. What do you have to lose? With whatever it is you want to do?”
He solemnly considered that for a moment, his face so like Roman’s it made her almost cry. Meanwhile, Roman was still on the phone, gently inspecting a flower petal in the vase on the windowsill as he listened to Noah. “You’re doing what you have to,” he said. “No, shut up and listen to me. I know what I’m talking about, alright? You’re taking care of yourself and I’ll be here for you the whole time.”
Jamie was still considering the Magician, the other cards untouched. “I’m going to take the job here,” he said suddenly. “Missy offered it whenever I wanted to start. I was going to wait til college, but if it’s alright with you, I want to start this year.”
A future where magic was front and center. Jamie had said he wanted to do what Celine did, but Celine’s magic, while important, had always been beside the work she did to support her family. But if Jamie was working here at the Countess, magic would infuse every aspect of his life, no matter what other decisions he made. Even with her own level of involvement in this world, that scared her a little. But any uncertain future for any of her kids would, right?
“Go get some rest,” Roman was saying by the window. “I mean it, I can bring you if you need someone. This is our last night here. Alright, Noah, take care, kid.”
He hung up, then set the phone down and looked out the window for a moment at the gardens of the Countess. Celine watched as he ruffled a hand over his short hair, sighed, then turned around.
“All good?” she asked.
“All good,” he echoed. “Alright, Jame, how about you do a reading for me, huh?”
———
———
