Make Me (Remdy)

We All Deserve More

Happy new year! 

Trigger warnings: Mentions depression, death, suicide, alcohol

Contacting Juliet is more challenging that Andy would have expected. Of course, he deleted her from his phone as soon as they divorced, but she's always been so easy to gain the attention of through social media, only when he searches her name into both Instagram and Twitter, he discovers she has blocked him, the band account, and everyone in the band. 

Eventually, he finds her number deep in an old document from when they bought their first house together, dialing in with doubts of her still using the same number. 

"Hello?" She answers, and Andy doesn't know what to say. 

"We need to talk." 

"Andy. Why are you calling me?" 

"Because we need to talk. In person." 

"Why? We have nothing to talk about." 

Sitting in his car, Andy sighs. "Believe me, I wish we didn't, but in this instance, we do." 

"You sound so serious." 

"Yes, because it is serious. When can you do? Tomorrow night?" 

"Fine. Tomorrow is...fine." 

"My place, eight pm. See you. Bye." Andy hangs up without waiting for a response. The roads are slippery with heavy rain as he drives home, cars rushing past on the other side, shiny with water and glistening under the street lights. He swerves to avoid a particularly deep puddle and runs from the car to his front door.

More than an hour later, he answers the door to a sopping wet, sad looking Remington. "Hey, hon," he says softly. "Come in, what's wrong? You're soaking." 

Remington steps in and closes the door. He wipes water from his face and takes his jacket off. 

Andy takes the coat and hangs it up. "How'd you get here? I didn't see you car in the drive."

"Oh, I left it in a car park and walked. Freaked myself out driving in the rain. It's fine. It only took half an hour to walk here." 

"You could've messaged me. I'd have picked you up." 

"It's fine." 

"Alright, well, come and sit down, I'll get some dry clothes and put yours in the dryer for an hour or so. " 

"Thanks." Remington goes into the living room and Andy leaves him to retrieve clothes. When the man returns, he watches him put the folded clothes on the arm of the couch and says, "Can I stay here tonight?"

"Yeah, sure. Here, get changed. You want coffee or something?" He picks up his phone. "Oh, shit." 

"What?" 

"I asked Juliet to come by tomorrow evening, she's apparently on her way now." He types something on the device. "God, that bloody woman. She'll do anything to fuck with me." 

"Maybe I'll go," Remington decides, though doesn't sound convinced by his own words. 

Andy looks up from his phone screen. "No. No, don't go. You're welcome here. She's the one messing me about. It's alright, I don't have much to say to her other than asking how the fuck my son isn't dead and why the fuck she kept him from me. Don't you worry, if she's any trouble, I'll make her leave. She's the one imposing, not you. Now go and get changed before you catch a cold." 

Picking up the clothes, Remington smiles at him. "You're so cute," he says, then, "Thank you. I really appreciate you." 

"I'm not cute," Andy complains. He types again into his phone. "If you'd rather not be in the middle of an argument with my ex wife, make yourself comfy in my bed, I think my laptop's up there if you wanna watch something."