Page 83 of A Very Friendly Valentine's Day
Now my brain hurts. This makes no sense to me. “Wait—why are you hurting?”
Nolan makes a face and shakes his head at me like my ma doesn’t know what she’s talking about. “Don’t you shake your head at me, young man. I know about the girl you met who suddenly stopped talking to you.”
“She’s just busy with work and travel,” Nolan explains to all of us.
“Uh-huh. You want to lie to your family and drown your sorrows, you do it on your own time, in your own place. Eddie’s there for Birdie, not for you to project your troubles onto, and he’s definitely not there for you to corrupt and destroy his beautiful, healthy young liver.”
“I swear I wasn’t projectin’ my troubles onto him.”
“He wasn’t, Ma. I don’t think.”
“Irregardless!You are older than him, Nolan Cassidy. You should be taking better care of him.”
“Agreed.”
“You want your girl back—you go fight for her. Leave Eddie alone to fight for his. And Billy…”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You’re gonna get your shit together too, right?”
“Absolutely, Mrs. C. You got it.”
“All right, I love you guys. All of you.”
“Love you, Ma.”
“Nolan—you make sure my boy eats something.”
“On it.”
“You boys better leave Declan’s apartment the way you found it!”
“Thanks for calling, Ma. Bye now.”
“Good-bye, my sweet angel. Text me when you—”
I hung up on her. Shit. I did not mean to do that.
I immediately text her to tell her I didn’t mean to hang up on her and that I will let her know when I’m with Birdie.
Billy is now trying to figure out how to use Declan’s coffeemaker.
Nolan carefully puts the bottle of whiskey back in its cupboard, on the top shelf.
“What’s going on with you and your woman?” I ask Nolan.
He blows air through his lips and waves off the question. “She’s just givin’ me space. You know how women are.”
“Yeah. They’re the opposite of that. You got dumped, didn’t you?” Billy says, giving up on the coffeemaker.
“If I did, she neglected to mention it.”
“Yikes. She ghosted you?”
He combs his fingers through his hair and opens up the refrigerator, leaning into it. “Seems that way, yeah… Should we order in?” He grabs a bottle of Italian sparkling water and hands it to me.
“Does she know you love her?” Never in a million years did I expect to have this conversation with Nolan Cassidy.
