Page 75 of A Very Friendly Valentine's Day
“Get yer face away from my face and I will put it on speakerphone, ya eejit.”
“Don’t be a dick, Paddy Magee. This guy loves me, right Eddie?”
“Sure. How’s it going, Billy?”
“It’s goin’ wicked awesome, that’s how it’s goin’. Get your assovah heahor we’re comin’ovah theah.”
“I can’t hang out with you guys tonight. I’m waiting for a call from my girlfriend.”
“What—that sick nasty chick from the Gram? I thought Dec told your ma and she told my ma that the Gram chick dumped your sorry ass for the guy in that movie that my ex was obsessed with lastyeah. Whatsisface who was on that show? Chris? Or Jack somethin’?”
“What?I have no idea who you’re talking about, but no. That is not how it went down.”
“Whatevah. Have one drink with us. Come on, don’t be a dick.”
“Yeah, I can’t tonight, but why don’t we meet up for breakfast tomorrow?”
“Breakfast? What are we—the Golden Girls? Fuck that. Don’t be a tool, come on.”
“Why are you even here, Billy?”
“Where the fuck else am I gonna be? Cassidy’sheah, Dec’sheah, you’reheah. What am I gonna do? Stay at home and let youskeezahsget into trouble without me? Getoutta heah.”
“All right, that’s enough outta you.” And now Nolan plays the Good Cop. I know this routine. Not falling for it. “Our William’s just hidin’ out from a bitta fluff who turned out to be a nutter. I heard you got yourself a fine mot. I do too.”
“Yeah, why aren’t you with her tonight, then?”
“She’s traveling. For work. I am well acquainted with the particular torment of missin’ a good woman.”
“Well then, you’ll understand why I don’t want to miss my woman’s call.”
“She gets in tonight then, does she?”
“She gets in tomorrow evening. Or she’s supposed to, anyway.”
“Right, then. You spend tonight with us. If ya don’t want to invite us over like a proper sham, then pull yer socks up and get over here. I’ll text ya the address.”
“I really can’t. I want to see you guys, you know I love you, but I can’t. We’ll meet up tomorrow. I wouldn’t be any fun tonight anyway.”
“Boooo!” Billy yells from the background. I can hear him opening up a can of something. “Listen to this guy. You think you’rebettahthan us, Cannavale?Whatevah.Yeah, we’ll see youtomorrah whethahyou like it or not.”
“Best of luck to ya, friend,” Nolan says, and I can’t tell if that was menacing or not, but he hangs up.
So that’s dealt with.
Except, when I look at my phone screen, I see that I have a missed call and a message from Birdie.
WHAT THE FUCK?
How did I not hear the call waiting?
Probably because Billy Boston kept yelling in my ear.
February 11th, 7:27 p.m.
“Hey! Finally got one bar of service! The Wi-Fi is not working on this train. At all. It’s Birdie, by the way. Rupert has a Wi-Fi booster that he brought, but it’s not helping. Too much weather, I guess, or maybe it’s the… Anyway, I’m glad you… to New York and I’m glad you… place to stay. You’re probably out gallivanting around town and that’s… I’m fine… Shoot, I think it’s cutting out, I better… I just wanted to say… And I wish you were here, but Rupert’s going to…”
That’s it. That’s the end of the message, and it kept cutting out.
