Silas
Ithrew openthe door to Hoff’s and the wall of heat pouring out of the place nearly made me want to turn around and go back outside. Half an hour before kickoff, the bar was already packed so full of O’Learians, I imagined there was some kind of fire code violationhappening.
Or maybe a noise violation, becauseholy shitwas itloud.
I looked around the bar for Ev, or for Henry who might know where Ev was, but I didn’t see either one and I was pretty unreasonably disappointed aboutthat.
“Si! Over here!” Jamie Burke screamed from a tall table in the corner where he was standing with Frank, Shane, and Julian Ross. Jamie’s face was already flushed, his dark red hair was askew, and his eyes were suspiciously bright. I wished I could blame the overheated room, but I was pretty sure the array of empty glasses on the table in front of him were theculprit.
Why did the guy keep coming back to this bar when it fucked him up so badly? Why couldn't he stayaway?
“Hey, guys,” I said, shucking my sweatshirt and tying it around my waist. “What’s goingon?”
“Heard about the memorial service your mom’s putting together,” Shane offered. “Sounds realnice.”
“Yeah,” Jamie grunted. “It’s really kind of her to also include Molly. I appreciate that.” He chugged morebeer.
I smiled wanly. The fall was the worst time of year for my mother. From January to August, it was possible to have a conversation with her that didn't revolve around memories, but once the pumpkin-spice started flowing, it was like a switch flipped in her brain. All she could think about from September onward was Matty — how sad she was without him, how much she missed him when she lit a fire in her fireplace, what she would have liked to get him forChristmas.
It made me angry every time I talked to her — angry that she was holding on to the past so hard, she was missing the present — and I’d been avoiding her calls all week, hoping to minimize my exposure to TheWeeping.
Clearly, my absence hadn’t dimmed herenthusiasm.
“So… Day off, Dr. Ross?” I slapped Julian on theshoulder.
“Yep. Unless any animal emergencies occur,” Julian said, tapping a black cell phone that rested on the table, next to a platter of appetizers and a half-empty pint glass. “We’re just, uh, trying to relax and have fun.” He glanced at Jamie, then widened his eyes atme.
“What Julian’s trying to convey is that Jamie here is already on his fourth beer, won’t eat the food because it alltastes like sewage, and won’t listen to Shane or me when we try to get him to leave,” Franksaid.
Julian tilted his head at Frank in exasperation and Frank shrugged. “What? Am Iwrong?”
Jamie rolled his eyes so hard, he had to grab the table to keep his balance. “You guys are all ridiculous. I’m notdrunk. I’m just not going to eat the third-rate shit that Parker serves.” He picked up a chicken wing from the platter and let it drop back with a wetthwapthat splattered hot sauce all over his blue t-shirt.
“Jamie, comeon,” Shane said, bracing a hand on the base of Jamie’s neck, even though Jamie had a few inches and a couple of dozen pounds on him. “I knew this wouldn’t be a good idea. Let’s just leave. I’ll walk you back to your place,and…”
“I’m notleaving,” Jamie shot back, jerking away from Shane’s hold. He pushed the brim of Shane’s Jets hat down so it covered his eyes. “I’m not lettingParker Hoffstraederand the fact that Parker is an incompetent, soulless asshole who doesn’t understand essential concepts likefriendshipand how much fuckingsauceto put on achicken wing, prevent me from enjoying the game with my friends!” He spread his big hands wide. “This ismytown.”
Shane adjusted his hat andsighed.
Julian, Frank, and I exchanged glances, but I figured it fell to me to state the obvious. “It’s Parker’s towntoo.”
Jamie shook his head and took another deep drink of his beer. “Nope. No, Si.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s where you’re wrong, actually. I mean, legally? Sure. Whatever. But he moved away to Boston. He left us all behind. You don’t just get to… toleave,then come back like nothing happened.” He spoke with the utter reasonableness of the exceptionally drunk. “You don’t just get todothat.” The pain in his voice was a palpablething.
“Have you tried talking to him? Since he came back?” Julian suggested. “Maybe it’d be better if you, like, aired your differences, instead of you getting upset every time you walk in this place? Maybe he could tell you his reasons for coming back or…whatever?”
Jamie laughed, an ugly sound. “Nowthatis an idea.Thatis ahellof an idea. I’ll ask him how many of his Boston friends he fucked over when he moved backhere.”
Jamie looked around the bar like he wanted to ask Parker now – with hisfists.
“Ah, shit,” Frank said under his breath. “How good are you at patching up humans,Julian?”
“Text your brother,” I told Julian, nodding at his cell. “He’s on call today. Ask Constantine to come and get Jamiehome.”
Julian nodded and startedtexting.
“No fucking way! The game hasn’teven…”
“Jamie,” I said, as seriously as I could. “Not again. We’ve brought you in way too many times already this summer. You need to sort your shit and stay away from Parker until you can figure out how to get right with him. This isn’t helping you,Jamie.”
