Sequel: Requiem of Revenge ›
When Three Becomes Two
Ignorance
Billie's PoV
I was happier than I’d been in years as I drove from Rudy’s. Life was good, that was true, but even better once I got to see Mike—truth be told, I was a bit isolated, although it was voluntary.
My homely looking car pulled into the driveway around 2 A.M. Now that the exhilaration brought on by alcohol was gone, I yawned loudly as I knocked on the door for Adie to let me in.
The door slowly swung open. My wife stood there with a gentle smile on her face, gentle brown eyes loving but alight with a twinge of annoyance. Nevertheless, I leaned in to kiss her lightly on the cheek. As I pulled away, her expression softened as she spoke. “Billie, where have you been? You said you’d be home at ten by the latest.”
“Adie.” I whined. “Me and Mike talked a little longer than I expected. That’s all. So, what’re you doing tomorrow?”
“Oh, Jakob got sick…” She sighed. “That spring flu’s making its rounds again, and his temperature’s pretty high. You might have to cover for me at work, okay? I’ll be staying home with him tomorrow.”
“All right. Goodnight.” I said as I dragged myself upstairs.
Work the next day was excruciating. All day long I glanced anxiously at the clock, waiting for when I could drop the mountains of paperwork I had to fill out and go see Mike. I truly had no idea how Adie put up with managing Adeline almost every day—I preferred handling CDs.
As soon as the hour hand was in close proximity with the small black 8, I snatched my jacket and sped away through Oakland.
Mike and I talked the night away just as we had done before. This time, however, we discussed very different subjects.
“So, Mike,” I said, lazily stirring my beer with a knife, steel clinking against the glass. “Anything exciting happen in the last twenty-four hours since I last saw you?”
“Um, the usual. There was a grease fire today…and some customer yelled at me for putting the wrong total on the bill…and” He took a deep breath, then said all at once, “And-I-went-to-Tre’s-grave-last-night.”
“You…went to his..."
“Grave, yeah.”
I sighed, my eyes at my knees. “Mike, when are you going to move on?”
“I have moved on, Billie. At least I don’t look past it the way you do.”
That stung. I glared up at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Yes, you do. I know you do. You’re too…I don’t know the word for it! Too happy. You act like you never met Tre! You completely ignore it. Don’t you care?”
"I do care, Mike. How could I not? It's just that there are things more important in life than worrying about what's over and done!" I replied, hurt and anger flooding my voice.
"I can't believe this. What kind of person forgets his best friend's death? A death, allow me to remind you, that wasn't an accident!"
Mike stood up, hands splayed on the table. So did I. Instinctively, I grabbed the knife and tightened my grip around it until my knuckles were white.
“Oh, really?” I said icily. “If I’m going to forget him, then I suppose it only makes sense that I should forget you.”
Mike’s face crumpled. A sick pleasure filled the pit of my stomach and made me long to take a swipe at him…
I yanked my jacket off the back of the chair, so hard it crashed to the floor along with the knife, making the heads of customers swivel to face me. I didn’t care. I marched out the door.
Anger boiled inside me the whole way home. Me? Forgetting Tre’s death? That sort of thing was hard to forget. What on earth did Mike expect me to do, cry and moan about it the rest of my life? I, unlike him, had a life to live. He could cling to his heartbreaking past all he wanted, but I wanted nothing to do with it.
I was happier than I’d been in years as I drove from Rudy’s. Life was good, that was true, but even better once I got to see Mike—truth be told, I was a bit isolated, although it was voluntary.
My homely looking car pulled into the driveway around 2 A.M. Now that the exhilaration brought on by alcohol was gone, I yawned loudly as I knocked on the door for Adie to let me in.
The door slowly swung open. My wife stood there with a gentle smile on her face, gentle brown eyes loving but alight with a twinge of annoyance. Nevertheless, I leaned in to kiss her lightly on the cheek. As I pulled away, her expression softened as she spoke. “Billie, where have you been? You said you’d be home at ten by the latest.”
“Adie.” I whined. “Me and Mike talked a little longer than I expected. That’s all. So, what’re you doing tomorrow?”
“Oh, Jakob got sick…” She sighed. “That spring flu’s making its rounds again, and his temperature’s pretty high. You might have to cover for me at work, okay? I’ll be staying home with him tomorrow.”
“All right. Goodnight.” I said as I dragged myself upstairs.
Work the next day was excruciating. All day long I glanced anxiously at the clock, waiting for when I could drop the mountains of paperwork I had to fill out and go see Mike. I truly had no idea how Adie put up with managing Adeline almost every day—I preferred handling CDs.
As soon as the hour hand was in close proximity with the small black 8, I snatched my jacket and sped away through Oakland.
Mike and I talked the night away just as we had done before. This time, however, we discussed very different subjects.
“So, Mike,” I said, lazily stirring my beer with a knife, steel clinking against the glass. “Anything exciting happen in the last twenty-four hours since I last saw you?”
“Um, the usual. There was a grease fire today…and some customer yelled at me for putting the wrong total on the bill…and” He took a deep breath, then said all at once, “And-I-went-to-Tre’s-grave-last-night.”
“You…went to his..."
“Grave, yeah.”
I sighed, my eyes at my knees. “Mike, when are you going to move on?”
“I have moved on, Billie. At least I don’t look past it the way you do.”
That stung. I glared up at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Yes, you do. I know you do. You’re too…I don’t know the word for it! Too happy. You act like you never met Tre! You completely ignore it. Don’t you care?”
"I do care, Mike. How could I not? It's just that there are things more important in life than worrying about what's over and done!" I replied, hurt and anger flooding my voice.
"I can't believe this. What kind of person forgets his best friend's death? A death, allow me to remind you, that wasn't an accident!"
Mike stood up, hands splayed on the table. So did I. Instinctively, I grabbed the knife and tightened my grip around it until my knuckles were white.
“Oh, really?” I said icily. “If I’m going to forget him, then I suppose it only makes sense that I should forget you.”
Mike’s face crumpled. A sick pleasure filled the pit of my stomach and made me long to take a swipe at him…
I yanked my jacket off the back of the chair, so hard it crashed to the floor along with the knife, making the heads of customers swivel to face me. I didn’t care. I marched out the door.
Anger boiled inside me the whole way home. Me? Forgetting Tre’s death? That sort of thing was hard to forget. What on earth did Mike expect me to do, cry and moan about it the rest of my life? I, unlike him, had a life to live. He could cling to his heartbreaking past all he wanted, but I wanted nothing to do with it.