Page 28 of Vesper Martinis

His chewing slows, and the vibe in the room darkens. Maybe parents are a touchy subject for him.

“You know what, you don’t have to—”

“No,” he interrupts. “It’s fine. I think my mother taught me that sometimes you have to make hard decisions in life. To trust someone. To leave someone. To take a job somewhere. Things like that. And even though you’re scared, the fact you are scared and don’t want to do it is probably the reason you should.”

I nod. I get that. I left my home for this job. My family and friends, too, because I thought this would be good for me—for my life overall.

“And your dad?”

Pierce’s fist clenches, and I really regret asking now.

“My dad taught me that not everyone who is blood-related to you needs to be in your life.”

Pierce leaves it at that and continues eating his sandwich. The air in the room is heavy, and I desperately search for something to lighten it up. A joke. A comment. Anything. It’s not that his vulnerability bothers me. In fact, I like it probably more than I should. This is just my move. Things get dark, and I want to lighten it up.

“You watching the game today?”

Pierce pauses, the sandwich halfway to his mouth.

“What game?” he asks.

“Uh…”

Yeah, man. What game? What plays in July? Oh! Baseball.

“The baseball game.”

“Oh, I thought you meant the vulnerability game where I say something that reveals too much, and you get uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” I quickly say.

“You aren’t? Because you seem like it.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s not that. It's just this thing I have when dark subjects come up, and that silence that happens. I feel the need to fill it with something light. What you told me doesn’t make me uncomfortable. The fact I made you tell me does, and afterwards I don’t know what to do.”

Pierce finishes his sandwich and milk before taking the wrapper and bottle to the garbage.

“That’s good to know. Also, you didn’t make me do anything. You’ve never made me do anything. I decided to tell you, and I’m also deciding not to regret it. Which is to say that I am… trusting you… not to tell anyone that.”

I shake my head as I stand up. “I promise I won’t.”

“Good,” his tone is final, and he reaches for my wrapper and bottle. I hand them to him, and he throws them away.

Afterwards, he turns me to me, hands in his pockets, and says, “Well, thank you very much, Wesley, for this. I really enjoyed your company this afternoon, and I hope you have a good shift tonight.”

We stand there in silence, neither of us moving. What do I do? Do I shake his hand? Give him a hug? A kiss?

I settle on a nod and turn around to head out the door with a smile on my face because Pierce Donnelley enjoyed my company, and that makes me so fucking happy.

Chapter 11

Pierce

Once in a while, my mother comes to town, and we have dinner. She’s basically the only one I talk to now. I don’t have siblings and I don’t know where my dad is. We got into a huge fight when he said he was going to leave. I said some things out of the pain of losing my family. He countered, telling me he was an adult and that because I was growing up, I didn’t need him anymore. Which isn’t the point, but if he feels like that, that’s just how it’ll be, I guess.

Mom, on the other hand, loves to chat with me, and we have since healed from the tumultuous time. We speak on the phone mostly and sometimes email. She sends me pictures of her and her boyfriend on vacation, her cats, and anything she knits.

Right now, though, we’re talking in person at a nice restaurant here in Vancouver.