Page 152 of Falling for You
‘Sure,’ I say. ‘Of course.’
‘Super.’
‘But Pam,’ I add sternly, as she begins to hunch back over her keyboard. ‘First, breakfast. I’m going to get you a bagel. And a chocolate muffin.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Nate
I landed back in New York at around midnight. Well, actually, according to my crumbling body clock that had finally let go of the New York time zone and reluctantly adjusted to London time, it was about 4 a.m. So, when Dad got me back home and I crawled into bed in my childhood bedroom, I was wide awake. I stayed there for about an hour before I decided that being alone with my thoughts in the darkness was not the best way to spend the rest of my Saturday night. I went downstairs with the idea of making myself some hot milk, or whatever it is they do in films to help when the main character is wide awake in the middle of the night.
To my surprise, I found Dad sitting at the kitchen table in the dark, holding his head in his hands.
‘Dad?’
He almost jumped out of his skin at my voice and immediately sat up straight.
‘Christ, Nate,’ he said, laughing a little. ‘What are you doing awake at this time?’
Have you ever wondered with your parents about whether you’re seeing the real them? They’re always actingstrong for you, looking after you, protecting you from everything that they can. When do you see the real them? When do they let their guard down?
Well, right then I felt as though I’d walked into a moment where Dad had taken his mask off for a tiny breather. And then as soon as I walked in, he shoved it back on so fast that it made him catch his breath. I didn’t know whether to ask if he was okay or just run back upstairs immediately.
‘Couldn’t sleep,’ I said, after a beat. ‘It’s almost morning in London.’
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Of course it is.’
‘Why are you up?’
‘Oh,’ he said, gesturing down to his empty glass. I noticed that he’d been drinking. ‘I’m not. I’m going up now.’ He stood up and clapped me on the shoulder, hiding his eyes from me. ‘Night, son.’
I felt paralysed as I watched him leave. A part of me wanted to grab his arm and make him talk to me, but a bigger part of me knew that he wouldn’t want to do that. What would be the point? It’s not like it can fix anything.
I ended up sitting at the table for a few hours, leafing through an old copy ofThe Great Gatsbythat was lying around. Dad must have been reading it to Mom, it’s her favourite book. She reads it every holiday, every year.
‘Is she okay?’
I’m pulled back into the moment as Stevie’s voice echoes down the phone. He rang me, croakily, as soon as he woke up and read my messages. It’s about seven in the morning now for him. It’s still just me sitting at the kitchen table.
‘I don’t know,’ I say, leaning my head against my palm. ‘I haven’t seen her. She’s been asleep since I arrived. Dad has seen her and says she’s okay, though.’
‘So she’s in hospital?’
I sigh. ‘Yeah. We’re planning to go and see her later.’
I hear Stevie exhale and I feel a pang of guilt.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t come and get you. I did try to find you,’ I say. ‘But I texted you, so you could have met me at the airport.’
As soon as I say it I want to kick myself. Talk about sticking your finger in the wound, Nate.
‘I was trolleyed, man.’
‘Trolleyed?’
‘It’s an English word. It means drunk.’ I can hear Stevie smiling. He’s trying to wind me up. ‘I thought it was quite fun.’
I roll my eyes. ‘That’s a weird one.’
