Spilling Guts

Part 39 - Mon ami

Louis collapsed on his bed. The tiny disappointments of the day hung onto him like burrs that a drive home with the windows cracked open could not brush away. Dinner had been a packet of steamed vegetables and leftover chicken; both of which he photographed for Rachel. Malicious compliance, so what? He spend the evening catching up on Celebrity Dancing while he stretched and tended to his arm.

He was stalling.

I'd rather not risk the gym tonight. Better to work out in private. He had room in his basement to create a small workout area, but he always had other things take priority. And his weights ended up in his living room in front of the television.

It hadn't been a completely bad day. He had helped Rachel with the test coming up and designed something useful. He had a full meeting with Balcuwitz that went better than he expected. And, to end the day, he'd knock another item off his list.

Before his doubts could freeze his nerve, Louis tapped his phone screen and waited.

Three rings later, his mother picked up.

"Bonjour, mon Louie!"

The French endearment banished the freezing touch of doubt and fear in Louis' mind. His body slumped deeper into the mattress as his lips curled into a smile. "Hi, mom."

"It's so good to hear your voice."

The guilt was not intentional, but Louis still felt it for not calling sooner.

"Have you been busy?"

Louis groaned. "The amount of paperwork on my desk could choke the Hoover Dam. Honestly, mom, the things people submit for patents are ridicules."

"I bet they are helpful to some people."

"There is a device that makes soup carbonated. Who the hell wants carbonated chicken noodle soup? Bubbly French onion? No way."

His mother laughed, and it eased Louis to hear her laugh.

A deeper male voice echoed in the background. His mother pulled from the phone, but Louis could still hear.

"I'm talking to Louis, keep the game down! Huh?" A clatter on the phone. "Did you get the coffee grounds your father and I sent you?"

"The package with a brown and white skull on the package?" Louis recalled a bag of coffee grounds with the title "night shift nurse", and a warning label for the amount of caffeine contained per serving. It had been a late Easter present. "Yes, I got it. I'm saving it for a very long night."

If he drank a cup of that coffee it would be a long few days. He loved his coffee, he knew the importance of staying awake and alert, but he didn't need to be that awake.

His research into the Devil's Neckbrace proved the importance of sleep.

"How about you?" asked Louis. "How are ya'll doing?"

"Oh, there was a water leak in the dance studio. Turns out, it had been leaking for a while and the studio has been shut down until the floor is repaired. And the ceiling repaired. And the mirrors."

Louis's jaw dropped. The dance studio was his mother's dream work. He had grown up watching his mother's students stretch and twirl. Even after his mother's car accident, and a long recovery, she had sent messages of encouragement to her former students at the studio.

His mother's accident had been one of the topics he had hoped Balcuwitz would keep buried for now.

Louis mind caught up to his mother's list of repairs. "A leak broke the mirrors?"

"No, one of the workers checking for mold in the ceiling ducts did. Just one panel. The students have been bouncing around from place to place to get their practice in. The only other reliable studio is overbooked. I managed to get one of my ballroom instructors to host next week."

"Insurance is going to take care of the leak, right?"

"Yes, mon ami. That's what insurance is for. Just wish they would stop dragging their heels about the paperwork. See, I have paperwork too. It's not something to get worked up about."

"If you say so." Louis nodded, admitting to himself that as much as he would like to argue with insurance companies, and the idiot that broke the mirror, his father had probably already done that.

"I'm more pissed off at this season's new judge on Celebrity Dancing. I just saw today's episode; I swear, he's gotten worse since last week. Kate's posture wasn't perfect but she finished a lot of complicated footwork."

"Posture is important in dancing."

"He's being petty. I'd like to see his perfect posture after leaning over the judges table like a slice of melted cheese."

His mother laughed again, the tinkling sound relaxing him better than a heartbeat recording. He would sleep well that night.

I should have called months ago.