Page 33 of Nick


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“I’ll be there in a minute,” I tell them, before turning to my brothers to punch their stupid faces in.

“Come on, we only came down to make fun of you a bit,” Ian justifies. “You would’ve done it to me.”

“And me,” Ryan interjects.

“So let’s just call it even, okay?” I say, not wanting to talk about it anymore.

“You going to offer us a drink, too?” Ian asks, smiling.

I gesture for them to follow me and we head into the centre. I grab drinks for us and for the kids, and we sit at a table, as my students enjoy the unexpected break.

“It’s not that bad,” Ian comments, referring to my new job.

“No,” I say flatly.

“It could even be just what you need.”

“I don’t want to talk about that now. Jamie’s already roped me into doing this and I don’t know what’s going to happen after.”

Ian nods.

“This afternoon will be Dad’s first home visit,” I continue, feigning indifference. “Maybe one of us should go along?”

Ian rolls his eyes and leans his elbow on the table. “Nick, you can avoid this blow, you know.”

“Or maybe you should just take it, right in the face,” Ryan adds.

“I’m just saying that one of us should be there. And you’re busy, right?” I turn to Ian. “With the baby and your new life. And you,” I turn to Ryan, “You’re no help to anyone.”

“Hey!”

“I finish here at two and then I have nothing else to do.”

“Hmm.”

Ian gets more and more like Dad every day. How the hell is that even possible?

“There’s nothing else.”

“Uh-huh.”

I scoff, losing my patience. “It’s been eight years!”

And that’s exactly what it is. Eight years have passed and I just disappeared without a trace: no contact, no messages. I moved on, travelled the world, chose a career that took me away from here; and, before Dad got ill, I thought I’d never come back. I made my choice, and I don’t regret any of it. It was what I wanted.

“Nick,” Ian pulls me back to Earth. “Is there something you haven’t told us? You haven’t left anything in the lurch, right?”

“Of course not,” I say, feeling my stomach and everything else go up in flames.

Maybe it’s just hell calling me.

12

Casey

“Thanks for the lift, Dad.”

“You’re welcome.”