The Long Way Home

Twenty Three

Matthew didn't wake up until noontime after that. His head no longer hurt, but he was thirsty.
He crawled out of bed and stumbled into the living room where Peter was sitting alone, watching TV.
"Where's Gil?"
"He left." Peter was eating popcorn. Matthew didn't have popcorn. Where did he get the popcorn from?
"Why?"
"He said he finished all the drawings and that his plane was supposed to leave tonight so he got a taxi and left."
"He didn't tell me..."
"He probably forgot."
Matthew dropped onto the couch, putting his arm over Peter's shoulders. "I guess it's just you and me again." He tried not to make any sounds of anguish. Why would Gilbert leave so soon? They were just getting really close.
"Can't you call him?" Peter asked, reading the mood.
"I could..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The first thing he did was check the single message he got from Lars a few hours before.
I'm bringing you guys Chinese takeout tonight for dinner. Don't be hungover anymore.
Hallelujah! Matthew didn't have to cook tonight!
"What the hell are you watching, anyway?"
"Dunno. SpongeBob?"
"That's still going?"
"Apparently."
"Huh." Matthew flipped through his contacts until he found the one marked as "Brautwurst Breath".
He hit "talk" and waited for the ringing to stop.
"Mattie?" Gilbert's tired voice answered.
"You're leaving?!!"
"Ja. I'm going back to Germany. I didn't even realize mein plane left today until I got an alarm."
"You couldn't postpone or something?"
"No. Zhe publishing agency set zhis all up. I have no control over it." Gilbert took a deep breath. "Look, I'm really sorry. I should have remembered zhe date earlier."
"Will I ever see you again?" Matthew asked, voice cracking a tiny bit.
"Ja! Of course! If jou're ever in Germany, just stop by! I'll text jou zhe address."
"I don't travel much..."
"Maybe jou could start?"
"Maybe."
"Anyvay...I have to get on zhe plane now! Bye!"
"Yeah...bye."
Matthew hung up his phone and set it on the coffee table. This was so sudden. It hurt.
"I'm going upstairs. Just tell Lars where I am when he gets here."
"No problem." Peter nodded, stuffing another handful of popcorn in his face. Matthew grabbed the bag and held it out of reach.
"And don't spoil your dinner."
"Awe but Matthew!"
"But nothing. No popcorn before dinner."
"But popcorn is gross when it's cold."
"Then why is storm popcorn so damn good."
"Additives and salt."
"Okay. You can have your popcorn. But you'd better eat all your Chinese too."
"I can't believe we're eating Chinese people for dinner!"
"What?"
"Chinese."
"Chinese food you idiot." Matthew swatted Peter on the head lightly enough that he wouldn't hurt the child. He took a handful of the popcorn and passed the bag back. "Be good while I'm upstairs, okay?"
"Yessir!"
"Great." Matthew munched on the popcorn as he made his way upstairs. He entered his man cave and grabbed the guitar from the corner, strumming it a few times to see if it was in tune.
It wasn't.
He dug through his drawers until he found his old tuner and a spare pick.
It had been so long since he had used any of this stuff.
Lars arrived right around the time he was tuning the 1st string. (1st is referring to the smallest string. The official name for it is e but it's confusing since the largest string is called E so a lot of guitarists number the strings instead, the smallest being 1st and the largest being 6th. It would be the last string he was fixing)
He was carrying two foam takeout boxes and had a look of puzzlement on his face.
"You haven't touched that stuff in years."
"I know. I just need to get my mind off things."
Lars sat down, placing the food between them. "Okay. Tell me what happened..."