Page 31 of A Cure for Recovery

Lawson plucks at the front of his vintage Speed Racer t-shirt and says, “Yeah. Ready for tea with the queen.”

Noah looks at Tommy and says, “You gained a little weight,” and Tommy bristles.

“Hey, it’s hard to–”

“No, it looks good,” Noah assures. “You were too thin before.”

“Yes,” Nat says with an air of finality. “You look healthy, now.”

In truth, he misses his sharp muscle definition, but decides not to waste time fretting over it now. Instead, he takes a closer look at Noah: his smart suit, and his cufflinks, and his pink-and-purple striped tie. “Is this how you dress at Narcotics every day?”

As he watches, Noah’s face colors. “Um…”

“You haven’t heard?” Nat says, leaning forward, face lit up with excitement. “Noah made captain!”

“Captain?” Tommy asks, stunned. “When?”

“Two weeks ago.” Then her expression sharpens, and she turns to Noah. “You didn’t tell him? You didn’t tell yourbrother?”

“I’m telling him now.”

“You’re telling him now, and you’re blushing. Noah,” she says, chidingly. “How could you not tell your brother?”

Noah’s blush deepens, and Tommy shares a quick glance with Lawson.

Did you know?

No.

The truth is, though Noah and Tommy do talk – on the phone, via text, and over Skype sometimes – they don’t talk about anything of substance. Baseball scores, and Frank, and their mother, and usually Tommy finds an opening to needle Noah about proposing to Natalia, and Noah saysyeah, yeah, I know, I’m getting there.But all Noah ever asks about his recovery isYou good? You doing okay?And Tommy says,Yeah, even if he isn’t okay. In turn, he says,How’s Narcotics, and Noah says,You know. Lots of drugs in the city. And that’s that.

At no point has Noah mentioned he took the captain test, nor that he was being considered for the position.

Tommy isn’t hurt, exactly. But he feels like he got slapped across the face.

Noah meets his gaze, and then ducks his head, like he knows.

Thankfully, Nat is very good at blasting through tension with weaponized cheerfulness. “Lawson,” she says, hands slapping down on the table. “Tell me all about your meeting with the book man.”

Lawson chuckles. “The literary agent?”

“Yes!”

“Well, obviously, nothing’s for certain yet,” Lawson says, and launches, at her prompting, into an explanation of the query and book-shopping process. He lays down a lot of qualifiers – it probably won’t happen; not getting my hopes up; etc. – but Tommy notes that he sounds less nervous and more excited than he has at any point since Leo first suggested the meeting.

A waiter comes by for their drink order in the middle of the conversation. Lawson and Tommy both ask for water, but Nata orders a bottle of white wine for the table and four glasses. “It’s your honeymoon,” she says with a wink. “Have fun.”

“I’m sure you’ll be published,” Nat says with confidence, lifting her glass, once it’s arrived, in a suggestion of a toast.

Lawson chuckles. “You’ve never read a single word I’ve written.”

“But I’m still sure,” she says, with a regal toss of her head. “To Lawson, and the millions of dollars he’s going to make.”

Lawson rolls his eyes, but clinks his glass with hers, and then with Noah’s and Tommy’s when they join. Lawson catches Tommy’s gaze and shakes his head. This chick, his look says. Crazy.

I hope she’s not crazy, Tommy thinks, fiercely, while he smiles back.I hope you get everything you’ve ever wanted.

It turns out La Historia is a Spanish restaurant. “As in Spain, babe,” Tommy tells Lawson, leaning into his shoulder. “There’s no tacos.”

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