Another big album done. You should be proud.”
And there it was. My sister’s kindness and love for me was about equal in measure to the guilt I felt every time I talked to her and she expressed that love for me.
I really shouldn’t have answered the phone.
“Thanks, CC,” I said.
“I guess… I’ll text to let you know what time to expect Taylor on Monday. Have a nice weekend, Cary.”
“You, too.”
I hung up, and realized I didn’t even bother asking what her and my best friend were up to this weekend. I never asked. Xander had hooked up with my sister last fall. And I’d accepted it, more or less. They’d been together almost a year now, so what was I gonna do? She was nineteen. It really wasn’t my call.
I’d tried to make it my call. Didn’t work.
Then I basically didn’t talk to either of them for a few months.
I’d let it go, though. There was really nothing I could do about it. But it didn’t mean I wanted to see them, or even picture them, together.
Besides that… hearing about the few people you still loved in this world doing all the normal shit that you used to do when you just couldn’t do it anymore was pretty unbearable. That was one of the things people never seemed to understand.
Just because I chose to be alone didn’t mean I wasn’t lonely.
Fuck. I needed to focus on something to stave off the anxiety. I could feel it creeping in around the corners, threatening to black everything else the fuck out. My heart was thudding and my palms were damp. Talking to my sister always spiked my anxiety.
I glanced at my phone as it vibrated in my hand.
Front gate.
I drew a few deep breaths, all the way down into my belly, to try to relax. I checked the time, but Liam was, as usual, perfectly punctual.
I picked up. “Yeah.”
“Good evening, Mr. Clarke. It’s Liam.”
I buzzed him in and headed down to the kitchen. I didn’t see Freddy around, but I topped up the food in his cat bowl. He’d be in and out all night through his kitty doors, and I wasn’t sure how long I’d be.
Then I grabbed my wallet from the studio, set the alarm on the house and stepped out the front door.
I winced a little as the light hurt my head. It wasn’t bright, but it was brighter than in the house, and I’d spent most of the day in the studio with the lights low.
I slipped on my shades even though no one could see me on my front steps. The yard was completely surrounded by thick trees. It was almost eight o’clock and the sun was starting to descend. Courteney was right. It was a beautiful evening, warm and calm.
But I hesitated. I took a moment to check in with myself, to make sure I was okay. To breathe.
Four counts in. Hold for four counts. Four counts out.
There was always time to cancel. I’d cancel on anything, if it meant avoiding a meltdown in public. But I forced myself, one foot in front of the other, down the front steps.
It was approximately sixty steps in total from my front door to the bedroom door at Bliss. That was all. Just sixty steps.
I’d encounter three people on this outing. Three people who knew exactly what was expected of them.
If I thought of it that way, it made it much easier to step out the door.
Three people. Sixty steps.
When I walked around the corner of the garage to the driveway, I found Liam standing next to his silver Cadillac in a neat suit and tie, awaiting me the same way he always did. Patiently.
He knew it wasn’t easy for me to get myself out the door.
And sometimes I changed my mind at the last second. I’d actually gotten out of the car and gone back into the house on several occasions, for no discernible reason. At least, no reason that he could see.
“Mr. Clarke,” he greeted me. If he was surprised that I hadn’t turned back yet, he didn’t show it. He just opened the rear door for me, like he picked me up like this every day.
In reality, there were months at a time when I didn’t call him for anything.
“Hey, Liam.”
I slid in and he shut the door. No need to ask me where I was going. He already knew.
It was the only place I ever went.
I spent the drive over to West Vancouver focusing on