The Collected Ed Gorman Volume 1 - Out There in The Darkness by Gorman Ed

Author:Gorman, Ed [Gorman, Ed]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: PS Publishing
Published: 2012-02-16T05:00:00+00:00

“Thank you,” he says afterward.

For a while then he is silent, here on his life raft, surrounded by sharks and the cold eternal ocean.

But he knows his contentment is not permanent. He still has questions. What else he said. What else he did. He has to know. His raft is a bed again.

He says, “I’d like to apologize for last night.”

“We’re not going to talk about last night anymore, remember?”

“But I do owe you an apology.”

“For what?” she asks. “I was the one who slapped you.”

“But after that,” he says. “For the parking lot. For that I owe you an apology. For that I apologize.”

“Well,” she says. “For the parking lot I guess I would accept an apology. A small one.”

“A big one. I know what I’m like when I’m that drunk.”

“A small one will be fine,” she says.

“Is there anything else I should apologize for? About last night?”

“Please. Forget about last night,” she says.

“Did I talk about my son?”

“Please.”

“Well, did I?”

“You said he was very bright and very kind and that you loved him very much.”

“Did I talk about visiting him?”

“You said you visited him regularly.”

“Well, I don’t. That was an exaggeration. I don’t visit him regularly.”

She says nothing.

He says, “I don’t want you to think I’m like your ex-husband.”

“He’s not so bad,” she says. “Not really. It’s just when he hurts Jennifer. But after being with you, I understand him a little better.”

“Me? What did I have to do with it?”

“Why the hell do you keep pushing?”

“I want you to tell me. You’re holding something back and I want you to tell me what it is.”

“Please. I have to leave in an hour. I don’t want to waste it talking about last night.”

“You can always leave now.”

“Maybe I will,” she says, angry.

“But before you go, I want you to tell me about last night.”

“What you did is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Can’t we just lie here?”

“What did I do?”

She says, “You tried to call your son.”

“What?”

“You tried to call your son. It was three-thirty in the morning. I wouldn’t let you. We wrestled by the phone over there.”

“Jesus,” he says.

She says nothing.

He says, “Why the hell did I try to call my son at three-thirty in the morning?”

“Because you felt sorry for yourself.”

“For him.”

“For yourself.”

“Jesus Christ,” he says.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. All of us have reasons to feel sorry for ourselves.”

“Jesus,” he says.

She tries to put her arms around him. He leans back to make this impossible. Now he is sick of her, of himself. His hangover threatens to push his eyes out of his head.

“I suppose you feel really smug about all this,” he says after a while.

“Hardly.”

“You know I could make a point right here.”

“If it will make you feel better,” she says, “make it.”

“I could ask you where your daughter is at this very moment. And where she’s been all night.”

“At home. With my mother.”

“With your mother. You don’t think your daughter misses you when you’re gone.”

“Of course she does.

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