2-2
599 Words
“AREN’T YOU SAD ALEX still has to work, like, twelve-plus hour days while you’re here?” Liam asks. It’s late afternoon, and the sun has already dropped below the hills behind the house. Paul is sitting at the kitchen table, going through his email. He’s technically on vacation. But he and Olivia, his partner in all things business and creative, are getting their new show Plague, about CDC staffers in Atlanta, up and running. He can’t leave her high and dry.
Besides, it’s not hard to deal with a few emails while enjoying everyone else. Ali is playing with Claudia. Vic is merrily raiding a basket of board books. Liam’s sitting on the floor with a book, sitting against the couch where Carly is stretched out, flipping through an Icelandic fashion magazine she stole from the plane.
Paul rests his chin on his hand and nearly loses his train of thought, staring out the window at the stunning landscape outside. “It’s okay. I have you guys,” he finally says in answer to Liam’s question.
“What do you mean?” Liam asks, leaning his head back. Without looking up from her magazine, Carly reaches down and runs a hand through his hair.
“Having other people around stops me from being a depressive workaholic and a bad partner and father.”
“That’s cool,” Liam says cautiously. “But I mean like, you flew all this way and hardly get to see him. That’s gotta suck.”
“It’s not like he can help it. I’m fine,” Paul says.
“Whoa.” Carly looks up from her magazine. Liam makes a sad noise when she stops petting his hair. “When either of you say you’re fine, you are never actually fine.”
Paul spreads his hands. “I’m here and not dysfunctional and not getting upset about Alex’s work schedule that I can’t change. I am, really and truly, fine.”
“Mom’s right. No one’s fine,” Ali interjects.
“You’re seven. When did you get so jaded?” Paul asks her.
“Apocalypse movies are in right now. Don’t blame me for the state of the culture.”
Carly cackles.
“Does anybody want drinks?” Liam says.
“It’s not even five o’clock,” Paul points out, although Carly is nodding. They haven’t even eaten dinner yet.
***
* * * *
THEY DO AT LEAST EAT dinner first. While Paul and Carly clean up, Liam empties Alex’s cupboards of all of his glasses — he says he’s looking for the best ones, whatever that means. With Ali’s assistance he spreads them out on the peninsula that separates the kitchen from the living room. He happily mixes drinks that are all bright shades of green and blue thanks to epic amounts of Midori and Brennivín, the Icelandic liquor they got from the weird government booze depot on the way in. Ali is fascinated by the virgin cocktail Liam shows her how to make with Sprite and some of Alex’s green juice that probably involves spinach, not that Ali needs to know that.
None of them drink much, but the mood is fun and relaxed once Paul finally puts his laptop in the bedroom and stops checking his phone.
After Claudia and Vic are asleep, Paul wonders if he should try to end the party, low-key as it is. Alex isn’t going to want to come home to a complete disaster of a kitchen, especially given that he’s probably going to also want to eat dinner. At least they have leftovers for him.
Liam paces around the room, talking animatedly about the Wikipedia hole about Vikings he fell into earlier that day. He’s waving his hands enough to make Paul fear for the drink he’s holding and also for Alex’s floor. But at least a Liam who’s hyper and pacing isn’t a Liam who’s making them endless drinks no one’s really consuming.
“Vacation is wonderful,” Carly purrs from the armchair she’s curled into.
Liam stops his pacing just long enough to kiss her. Paul’s mildly relieved yet surprised when Liam walks right by him with nothing more than a wink.
***
- Writer
