“I know the difference between someone asking for space and someone telling me to go away,” Charlie says, not offended, just—too gentle.
It’s the gentleness, the idea that Charlie thinks he has to be gentle about this, the fact that he’s right, that makes Simon snap. “Okay, well, congratulations.”
“Hey.” Charlie’s thumb traces Simon’s cheekbone.
Simon was trying to benice. He started this entire cursed conversation because he wanted to make sure Charlie’s feelings weren’t hurt, and now he feels like his skin is see-through, everythingimportant just sitting there, out in the open. This is why it’s better to keep his mouth shut, a lesson he thought he learned half a lifetime ago.
“I’ll be careful,” Charlie says.
“We aren’t talking about me.”
“If I want space. I’ll be careful.”
“Still not talking about me.”
Simon doesn’t know if Charlie’s remembering Simon being the first to leave parties and dinners, doesn’t know if he’s thinking about four hundred unread text messages, doesn’t know if Charlie can extrapolate exactly how much Simon prefers tobealone over beingleftalone.
Simon doesn’t want Charlie to become one of the unread texts on his phone. He twists the fabric of Charlie’s T-shirt around his fingers like that will somehow stop himself from ruining this.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Will you stay with Edie while I’m in Greenwich?” Simon asks while he’s attempting to rewrap Nora’s present. “The car gets here at noon and I’ll be back by seven.”
“Why don’t you just take her?” Charlie asks.
Simon doesn’t have a good answer to that, except that it hadn’t occurred to him. He’s seeing his entire family in a few hours and the idea of adding anything new to the mix feels impossible.
“Are you going somewhere?” Simon feels a little off-balance because Charlie usually narrates all his plans as the ideas occur to him.Maybe I’ll go to the gym, how about I pick up dinner, do you need anything sent to the dry cleaner.“I didn’t mean to assume you’d babysit my dog.”
Charlie gives him a look that Simon can’t read. “I mean, I’ll go to the gym for an hour, probably. But I don’t have plans. And I’ll babysit your dog whenever you want me to.”
“I didn’t check to see if the car service allows dogs.”
“What’s the name of the company?”
Charlie calls while Simon wrestles with the Scotch tape.
“They allow dogs.”
“Why are you pushing me to take Edie?” Simon asks. He’s already overwhelmed by knowing he’s about to see his family, bywrapping paper that rips too easily, by doubt over whether Nora’s going to like this jacket.
“You’re happier with her,” Charlie says. He’s said it before. “Calmer.”
It isn’t fair for Simon to immediately assume he’s being criticized, but he’s doing it anyway. His face is hot, his hands sweaty, and he tears another piece of wrapping paper.
“People have emotional support dogs,” Charlie says.
Simon crushes the ruined wrapping paper into a ball. “She isn’t—”
“I know. But she helps, right?”
Simon doesn’t know how he thought Charlie could live with him for a week and not notice this. “Yes, but—”
But what? It would take nothing to bring the dog with him. It’s a garden party, not a sit-down dinner. Both his brothers and both his parents have dogs, so Edie probably wouldn’t even be the only dog there. She would love meeting new people and smelling new smells, and she’d love all the bits of food that people would undoubtedly slip her.
And he would feel better. He knows that. She’s a buffer between him and the rest of the world. Sometimes Simon simply talks about her instead of attempting to navigate actual conversation. Sometimes people will talk about their own dogs, which Simon is always happy to hear about. Worst-case scenario, she’s a get-out-of-jail-free card: Sorry, better see what the dog needs!
“It’s just—” Simon’s about to say that it’s just his family, but they both know there’s nojustabout it. He’s wrapped and rewrapped this present no fewer than four times—he isn’t exactly projecting normal at the moment.
