The Sowing

8. Just One Drink

Meredith

“Why am I not surprised? You've always been notorious for your impressive ability to lie.”

James’ shuffling could be heard across the line but his tone was still smarmy, “One: It's not lying if I believed it when I told you, and two: you don't sound as mad as I thought you'd be… What’s that I hear in your voice?”

“Hellfire,” I pulled the coiled cord away from Sebastian, Merle, and Tommy, who were enjoying seconds and laughing at some unheard joke around the dinner table. 

I could hear the smile in James’ inflection, “So, it's working out, huh? What – has he learned how to steer your tractor?”

My eyes squinted on their own accord, “What the fuck does that mean?”

James chuckled, “Oh, lighten up.”

“The only thing I'm gonna light up is your ass. I want my life back, James. I'm done babysitting.”

“I’m meeting with someone in a couple hours. New lead. I'll know more then.”

I scoffed into the phone, “Oh, fuck off...”

“What the hell do you want me to do, Mer? You know it’s a bunch of bureaucratic bullshit. I have to wait for the red tape to clear and I'm trying to do it quietly. I can't trust a single one of these suits. They're fucking crooked. More crooked than – what's his name? Billy Wilkerson. More goddamned crooked than Billy Wilkerson's teeth.”

An image flashed in my mind of Billy Wilkerson in his cadet uniform, face pocked with painful-looking acne and teeth adorned in braces. It was mean but I understood the reference.

“Billy grew up to be real handsome and you grew up to be an asshole. Surprise, surprise.”

James chuckled again as he moved about wherever he was, “Ouch.”

We shared a serious silence across the line before I spoke, “I can't be at my best in the dark, James.”

“I’ll call from a secure line. Zero one hundred hours.”

Frustrated, I rolled my eyes again, “You disrupt my routine, my sleep… you know that adage – be a fountain, not a drain? You're a drain.”

James continued in all his laissez faire nonchalance, “You're never asleep by one.”

He wasn't wrong but it was beyond the point.

James's tone softened almost imperceptibly, “He’s not giving you a hard time is he? What do you have him doing?”

“Training.”

James responded with something akin to incredulousness, “Training, huh? You think that's a good idea? I mean, I don't think the damn guy can survive an argument with his father let alone a fight.”

“Here, I thought you'd gone soft. It's nice to know you still don't really believe in supporting your charges.”

“That's why we have people like you, Mer. For all the sentimental shit. I'm an ops guy – they don't pay me to believe in anything except for the bottom line.”

I whisper-yelled, “You left him absolutely and utterly defenseless!”

James rebuttal came easily, “It's not my job –”

“You’re an asshole, you know that? A real… fucking asshole.”

James sounded resigned, “Call me what you want. I'm getting the job done, aren't I?”