Work Text:
“I don’t understand why you don’t want to come.”
“I don’t understand why you want me there.”
A few feet away from Neil, Eva was lying in bed, fast asleep, and instead of joining her in dreamland like he wanted to, Neil was pacing his bedroom, his cell phone at his ear and his mother on the other line.
“Neil, this is your cousin’s wedding we’re talking about! It’s a family occasion! Why wouldn’t we want you there?”
And by “we,” you really mean “you,” Neil thought. It was rare for Terri Watts to call him—he could count on one hand the number of times she’d called him in the last year—but when she did, it was to tell him about some family event or another that she’d insist he attend. Sometimes she wouldn’t even bother with an excuse and just flat-out ask if he’d like to leave New York City for a few days to visit Hartford, Connecticut. Neil always answered in the negative, and this time was no exception.
Out loud, he said, “Ma, you’re forgetting that this family occasion consists of people I don’t know and haven’t seen in over, what, ten years? Twenty years?”
“And whose fault is that, darling?” Terri asked rhetorically. “You haven’t been home in ages. And don’t try to give me the work excuse again—I know perfectly well that Sigmund Corp. gives you vacation days. There’s no reason why you can’t take a weekend off to spend time with your mother.”
Neil stopped pacing and sank into the chair by his computer desk. “Winter’s right around the corner, Ma. We’re gonna have a lot of clients at the ‘about to drop like flies’ stage.”
“Yes, yes, I understand how time-consuming the memory alteration business can be,” Terri said, impatience now coloring her tone, “but it’s hardly a twenty-four-hour job. Don’t you miss Connecticut, Neil?”
Well, considering that Neil had only lived in Connecticut for four years, moved to NYC as quickly as he could after graduating high school, and the only lasting connection he’d made while there was with Eva...
“I miss my last bottle of scotch more than I miss Connecticut,” he finished the thought out loud before he could stop himself.
He heard Terri exhale sharply. “Neil Gideon Watts, what in the world do you have against family? Against having relationships with other people? I can’t believe you don’t want to go to Sharon’s wedding!”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Neil was seconds away from getting up and banging his head against the wall. “Sharon isn’t going to give a flying fig if I’m at her wedding. I saw her once. When I was eight and she was three.”
“You didn’t even come to England for your Aunt Bethany’s funeral!”
“I wouldn’t know who Aunt Bethany was if she came back from the dead and did the hula!”
“Neil!”
But Neil barely heard his mother’s reproachful exclamation; his retort had been louder than he’d intended, and it was barely out of his mouth before he heard a snuffle. Immediately, his attention was on Eva as she stirred beneath the covers, his stomach lurching. Shit! Don’t tell me she’s waking up! Eva was the kind of person who could sleep through a typhoon and a volcano eruption going on at the same time, so Neil hadn’t really been bothering to keep his voice down. If Eva woke up, it meant she’d want to know who he was talking to and why he was yelling. Which meant he’d have about three seconds to tell her something, preferably something that didn’t include his mother being on the phone and trying to rope him into showing up to a wedding for a cousin he hadn’t seen in forever and a half.
Was three seconds even enough time to come up with something Eva would believe?
But all she did was roll over onto her side, still asleep, and Neil let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding.
“Neil?” Terri repeated.
“I’m still here.” Neil turned back to the computer, his voice now calmer. Hopefully it’d stay that way. “I just don’t know why you’re so obsessed with me hanging with a bunch of people who’re basically total strangers.”
“I worry about you, honey.” Terri’s voice had softened. “I worry about you being all by yourself. We don’t have any family living in New York. Now, if you had a wife—”
“Ma!”
“If you had a wife, or at least a girlfriend, that would be one thing, but you haven’t dated since high school.”
“I’m doing just fine, Ma,” Neil insisted, taking another glance at Eva to be sure he hadn’t woken her up. In fact, I’m doing better than fine. I actually got a girlfriend—Eva Rosalene. Remember her, Ma, from high school? That girl who became my best friend even though we fought about everything under the sun? We’ve been dating for two weeks. Oh, and just so you know, she’s in my bed, right at this very minute.
He wondered what his mother would have to say if he actually said all of that.
“I can ask Sharon if any of her bridesmaids are single.”
“Are you joking? Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I thought maybe the prospect of a date would be incentive enough for you to come.”
“If the pleasure of family company isn’t doing it for me, why would a blind date change my mind?”
Terri was silent for a long moment. “Is this about your father?” she finally asked. “Is that why you never want to come home?”
“Ma, I’m—” Neil was about to once again give her “the work excuse,” as Terri had put it—which was a perfectly valid excuse and had absolutely nothing to do with Gideon Watts—but she cut him off before he could get further than two words.
“For goodness’ sake, Neil, it’s not like Dad threw you out of the house or disowned you. You can’t possibly still be holding a grudge over a twelve-year-old argument.”
Neil opened his mouth, then closed it. What could he say? Yes, he’d been pissed off at his father, and maybe some part of him—the part that was eighteen and itching to get out from under his parents’ roof—still was even after a dozen years, but how could he explain that it wasn’t just that? That it was an unholy combination of guilt—because he definitely remembered saying some things that couldn’t be unsaid—and stubborn pride—because why the hell should he be the one to apologize?—that kept him away?
How could Neil meet with Gideon again when some of the last words he’d ever said to the man were that he didn’t want to be “some fucking pencil pusher”?
He let out a weary sigh and got to his feet. “Ma, look. If you want, I can send you a cheque. You can use it to buy a wedding present. Say it’s from me if you like. Is that okay?”
Another moment of silence passed before Terri next spoke. “But you won’t be going?”
“I won’t be going.”
The call ended shortly after that, with Terri making Neil promise to take care of himself. He put his phone and glasses on his night table and finally got into bed next to Eva. He draped an arm around her and closed his eyes, feeling his body relax already.
He was on the verge of falling asleep when he heard her voice.
“Neil?” she mumbled softly. “Who were you...?”
If he were more awake, his earlier panic on how to answer would have returned with a vengeance. As it was, without opening his eyes, Neil said the first thing to come to mind. “No one, dumpling. Goodnight.”
“G’night...”
Why bother disturbing Eva’s rest late on a work night over something that had little to no effect on their day-to-day lives? Even if he wanted to let her in on the nitty-gritty details of his little family drama, he could always put it off for another day.
Or maybe another year, was his last thought before drifting into slumber.