FicWad

The food was getting cold, but what concerned him more was the beer was getting warm. Shortly after Frank Iero and the incompetent he had brought along as muscle had left, Gerard had noticed no fewer than eleven messages on his answer phone. His gut told him that Iero and his cronies would never leave a recorded message threatening him, but there may well have been some sort of innocent sounding message that he would understand given the circumstances. So far he had listened to nine of them and they had all been pretty much the same. The caller was Leanne, Mikey’s ex-girlfriend, with professions of regret and undying love. Gerard had believed Mikey without question when he said that the split was a mutual and amicable one, but the tone and persistence of the calls suggested otherwise. Had Mikey ditched his girlfriend and fled to avoid a confrontation? Admittedly, it didn’t seem like him, but then, neither was lying to his own brother and he had successfully managed that. Pressing the skip button, Gerard moved onto the tenth message, which proved a real eye-opener for him.

“Okay, Mikey, you win! I admit it; I was stupid. I should never have cheated on you. I don’t really know why I did except that, well, you never actually seemed to be a part of the relationship. I really thought you were cheating on me at one point! You were so distant and… well… did you even care even a little bit? Did you ever? Do you now?
I never thought I’d be leaving a message like this on your brother’s answer phone – by the way, I’m really sorry Gerard, but he’s not answering his cell and maybe you can make him listen?
I just wish you’d pick up and we could talk. I know you’re there Mikey. Please talk to me. I’m really sorry. Is there still a chance for us? I’m guessing not, but, I’m only asking for a few minutes of your time. I’ll pay you back every cent of what I owe you and… well, I’m really, really sorry.
If you’ve heard this, I guess we’re through. If you haven’t and you’re out, please don’t meet someone. Just one more chance Mikey, is that too much?
Gerard, if you have any influence with him at all, please ask him to call. Bye… bye.”

Gerard sighed. Every word was heartfelt and dripping with regret. So, Leanne had cheated on him. That made so much more sense than Mikey’s own excuse of wanting some space while she moved out. He hadn’t mentioned it at the time, but Mikey had never even spoken about her moving in. He felt sure Mikey would have shared that exciting morsel as soon as she had agreed to the idea, let alone packed a single plate.
No, even without the message, Mikey’s explanation appeared suspect, while this message smacked unmistakably of the truth.
For Mikey to have concocted a lie, even the very basic one he told, Gerard knew that the truth must have hurt him deeply. The irony was that he didn’t even need to hold strong feelings for her to be hurt. Mikey was very much an open book and the truth, however plainly stated, would hurt considerably less than a lie spun out for what had amounted to selfish reasons.

Gerard, on the other hand, was much less forgiving. She had hurt his brother. How she had; why she had; it made no real difference – the point was, she had and the fact of it hurt him too. Gerard pressed the button to forward to the last message, which revealed a little more – not so much about the relationship as about Leanne herself.

“Okay, so it’s two hours later and you’re still not calling. I guess I should have seen that coming! No doubt you’re trying to make me suffer, dragging things out to punish me? Well, I guess it’s time to tell you the truth. I never loved you; I never even liked you that much! That’s why I went with Alexander, because I felt nothing with you. Do you hear me, Mikey? Nothing! And as for you? You could have had a dozen girls for all I care; I wouldn’t have noticed or cared. Whatever you’re doing, I don’t care, I haven’t for ages and this is your loss, not mine! I don’t see you finding anyone who gives a damn about you, Mikey, because you’re cold and hard and care nothing for anyone! I don’t regret a thing and, just so you know, don’t ask for any money back, it ain’t gonna happen!”

Listening to the eleventh and last message, it seemed clear to him that every word of the previous messages were lies. Leanne had never really cared for Mikey at all, but simply wanted her guilty conscience assuaged. Even if Mikey had been there, what good would talking do at this stage? Her last message had complained that he was purposely dragging things out to punish her; that in refusing to take her calls he proved to her that she was right to look elsewhere.
Gerard shook his head sadly. She was a spoiled brat, used to getting her own way but, Gerard decided as he erased all of the messages, this was one Way she would not be getting. Even though they were both grown men, Gerard had found it difficult to shake off the role of protective big brother and, if the truth were known, neither of them wanted him to.

*

Ray drained the glass with a slight grimace as the scotch burned the back of his throat. It was a particularly fine single malt; he could afford it these days, but the characteristic burn when he drank quickly still took him by surprise. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he picked up the phone and pressed a speed dial button while he poured himself another drink. Pausing for a few moments as he waited for a reply, Ray took a sip of the warming drink.

“Hello?”
“Hi, mom, it’s me. How did you get on?” Ray asked, placing the glass back on the table, he lifted a pen and turned a notebook to a more convenient angle.
“It’s not good news, Ray,” she replied her voice catching as she spoke.
“Come on, mom, don’t get upset. Whatever it is, we can sort it out between us,” Ray replied confidently, hoping to lift her spirits.
“Not this time,” she sighed, “they want to operate and I don’t have insurance. You’ve been so good paying for my tests, but this time it’s not a couple of hundred.”
“How much?” Ray asked as gently as he could in spite of the worry he felt for his aging mother.
“The operation would be fifteen thousand dollars.”
“And the aftercare?” Ray asked jotting down the details on the pad.
“What aftercare, I can’t even have the operation. I can’t afford that and neither can you!”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said firmly but kindly. “Now, come on, how much is the aftercare?”
“Ray, don’t be ridiculous! You’re an engineer, where are you going to get that kind of money?”
“I’m a good engineer, mom and I’ve kind of been freelancing. I’ve done well; well enough to pay for your operation.”
“What do you mean, freelancing?” she asked suspiciously.
Ray laughed at the tone.
“I’ve been going out and doing jobs, well paid jobs,” he replied.

His honesty in his choice of words was remarkable, but his intention was that she would assume he meant genuine engineering jobs. Unfortunately for Ray, his mother was more astute than he gave her credit for. Still he could always play the guilt card if he needed to.

“Ray, what you’re doing… it is legal, isn’t it?”
“Mom!” Ray responded with a tone dripping with indignance.
“Ray?” she countered, not swaying from her earlier question.
“I went to jail once, mom,” Ray replied carefully. “I have no intention of going back.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” she pushed again.
“Mom, stop worrying. I told you I wouldn’t risk it again and I meant it.”
“If you did, it would break my heart, Ray. You know that, don’t you?”
“Do you really think I’d do that? Really?”
“I’m sorry, Ray, but it’s so much and I know you, you want to help…”
“And I can,” he cut in. “I’m going to move twenty five thousand into your account.”
“Twenty five thousand! Ray, I’m worried…”
Ray looked up as the doorbell sounded.
“Mom, I gotta go, there’s someone at the door.”
“Ray, I love you…”
“I love you too, mom, you have to stop worrying. We’ll get it sorted.”
Ray frowned as the doorbell rang again.
“Promise me!”
Ray sighed.
“Mom, I promise you, the money has been earned honestly.”
“Thank you!”
Ray could almost hear his mother smiling happily down the phone.
“I gotta go, mom, Bob’s at the door. I’ll speak to you on Friday.”

After brief goodbyes, Ray replaced the handset as he headed for the door. His conscience was clear – he hadn’t totally lied to her; the money was earned honestly, just not by him.
Opening the door, he smiled and stepped to one side as he allowed Bob into his apartment.

“Did you see her?” Ray asked guessing what the answer would be as Bob shouldered past him with a deep set frown firmly fixed on his face.
“What do you think?” Bob growled as he stormed through into the living room and snatching up Ray’s bottle of eighteen-year-old single malt whisky, pouring himself a large glass and downing it in one.
“Where is she?” Ray asked.
Bob shook his head miserably as he poured another glass of scotch and offered the bottle to Ray.
“I don’t know,” he replied with a helpless shrug. Flopping down onto the comfortable leather sofa as Ray took the bottle and topped up his glass. “I should never have told her I was coming.”
“She can’t stop you seeing your kid forever!” Ray snapped. “You’ve got rights!”
“Who’s going to enforce the rights of an ex-con?” Bob grumbled.
“So, what are you going to do?”
Bob turned the glass in his hands.
“I just got to find her again, and next time, no niceties! I’m going to see my son and I’m going to take him away.”
“Bob, what the hell? She’s got custody, that’s kidnapping, man!” Ray replied, staggered by the response.
“Yeah, well, turns out I’m pretty good at that. Cheers!” Bob replied, raising his glass in a toast to kidnapping.
Ray shook his head.
“You can’t do it. You’ll go to prison!” Ray reasoned.
“She’s stopping me from seeing my son, Ray! She should go to prison!”
“Yeah,” Ray nodded. “She should. But she won’t, you will.”
Bob shrugged implying his indifference to the situation, but he was already calming.
“Do it through the courts, Bob,” Ray implored. “Do it legally. Get custody of Dan.”
“They’re not going to give custody to me; I’ve been in prison.”
“And she’s an alcoholic! She’s not fit to have him!”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Bob snapped in reply.
“I’m sorry, Bob.” Ray sighed. “All I meant was, you’ve got a good chance of getting custody.”
“What then?” Bob asked. “I bring him into the family business?”
Ray smiled, then laughed at the seriousness on Bob’s face as he asked the question.
“No,” he shook his head. “You do whatever it takes to look after him.”
“I gotta find her first,” Bob sighed as Ray offered to refresh his drink.
“I’ll help you,” Ray nodded confidently. “Between us, we’ll find her and we’ll get your son back.”
Bob smiled, faintly at first then broadly as he raised his glass to Ray.
“You’re a good friend, Ray. Thanks.”