Page 14 of Never To Suffer (The Hollywoodland #4)

“It’s tacos and conversation, Zack. Neither of those require you to change your clothes. Hell, you don’t even have to lose the apron.”

When I get home, the sun has long set. Before I can set my bag down, the screaming begins, but she doesn’t leave the bedroom. When the queen is comfortable, she stays that way.

“Sweetheart, if you keep yelling at me, I’ll put you on a damn diet!

” I kick my shoes off and crack my neck, watching the door.

When her large orange head and accusing yellow eyes poke out from behind the door.

There’s no question in my mind she’d eat my face off if I died in bed. She might not even wait for me to die.

The kitchen light temporarily blinds me, so I grope around for the fridge door and pull out her food.

She wastes no time hopping onto the counter when I set her bowl down, staring me right in the eyes when she knocks it to the floor.

The bowl loudly strikes the tile floor, making her jump and me laugh.

“Oh, we’re both having that kind of night, are we?” I reach over and scratch under her chin. “Alright, I agree.”

I leave the bowl on the ground and grab what we’ll need before heading to the living room and turning on the hockey game.

As I listen to the commentators, I pour myself a glass of wine and gingerly place pieces of fresh salmon on a plate.

I scratch behind her ears as she takes dainty bites of the salmon, fully aware that she rules this house.

Unlike me, the ape-like peasant who does her bidding.

“He shoots, he scooooores! Calgary extends their lead, up five goals to one. At this point, it will take a miracle ? —”

I flip the station over to the public channel just in time to watch the dead body reveal on one of those cozy British mysteries.

A few years ago, I would have watched the rest of the game, but that was before I knew some of the players.

Their goalie is a good kid and the brother of one of my long-time clients, but when he hits a rough patch, he skids out of control and hasn’t figured out how to right the car yet.

MEOOOOOW!

“I’m not putting the game back on. I don’t care if they are playing a team with a cat mascot.

Oh, done already? Well, I’m not giving you more.

” We stare each other down before I toss a few more pieces onto her plate.

“So, you remember the guy I told you about? The coffee guy with the pretty eyes? Yeah, that’s not gonna work out and it’s all because of you. ”

She licks the plate clean, no response to what I’ve said.

“He’s allergic to cats. Yeah, I probably would have had a shot tonight, but maybe you saved me from more trouble.

” I pour myself more wine. “So damn allergic, he had to take a pill after he sat next to me at the restaurant. So now, not only are you an ungrateful monarch, you’re also a cockblocker. Cheers, Baggy.”

The look she gives me as she cleans her paws reads ‘you’re so fucking welcome’ but also ‘I’ll eat your face tonight with a nice Chianti.’

My phone dings, making the cat jump and brace herself to bolt again. Earthquakes she can handle, but random noises? No chance.

I’m tempted to ignore the message on my phone.

After looking at the calendar on my way home, I’m expecting an earful tonight, and I’m not sure I’m in the mood.

There must be a crack in the bottle I picked, because when I reach for it to refill my glass, it’s half empty.

Before I can decide if I should keep drinking and just finish off the bottle or go to bed, my phone has the audacity to full-on ring.

“Fuck.” An entire circus goes through my mind at light speed when I see the caller ID. I knew this would happen, and still I chose to not set an alarm like she told me to do last year when I made the exact same mistake.

“Theo!” Her heavy French accent removes the H from my name. “What the hell? Did you forget?”

“No!” I did, but she doesn’t need to know that. “I called earlier, but it didn’t go through. I believe she’s finally blocked me and moved on with her life. As she should, I don’t blame her for hating me.”

“Are you serious? What kind of bullshit answer is that?! You barely had one task, ONE, and you can’t even handle that? Did you set the alarm like I told you? Your phone, Theo, it could have helped you!”

“Yeah, well, now you sound like your parents.”

“Oh screw you. Call your damn daughter for fuck’s sake!

” The silence on the line keeps me from tipping the bottle back and saying screw the glass.

She’d hear that, though, and come through the phone like a horror movie to end me.

When she speaks again, there’s a soothing quality to her voice and she becomes the woman I know again. “Theo, what’s going on?”

“Marie, I’ve called her every year. Every.

Damn. Year. And for the last six years she’s refused to even give me the courtesy of answering and being a total cunt to me.

I’d honestly like that more than the silence.

” She could never treat me that way though, I already know that well.

She’s a saint, like her mother, but it’s easier to place blame on someone else.

“Why should I call when she won’t answer? ”

“Because you’re still her father. You’re still the only parent she has left. And you know she still loves you.”

I rub my chest absently, fighting to keep the flashes of memory at bay. I don’t need those nightmares tonight. “Maybe it’s for the best, Marie. I’m a shit parent, obviously.”

“Theo, you’re not a shit parent and deep down she’s still the little girl who adores you. You’ve sacrificed for her, and she has sacrificed for you, like most families. Just call her. Please?”

“She’s an adult and she’s made her choice, Marie. I’ve left the door open and she knows?—”

“If you don’t call her, you’re slamming the door shut. I have to go, I have an early flight. I’ll be in California again in a few months, we should see each other while I’m there.”

We always say that when she’s in California or I take a trip to Paris, but it’s rare we follow through.

We’re reminders to each other of what we’ve had and lost, of the heartache we’ve suffered, and of the lives we had planned before everything was ripped away from us. She lost a sister, I lost a wife.

“Yeah, we should do that. I love you, Marie.” I say what she wants to hear. “I promise, I’ll call Sylvie.”

“Good. I love you, too, Theo. So does Sylvie.”

I end the call, grab my laptop and the last of the wine, and head to my room. I need a shower, a plane ticket, and probably some porn to make up for the shitty way the day, and my date, ended.