As I cleaned the bathroom at home after work, I thought about Gil and how excited he was about attending his daughter's wedding in a few weeks. The thought of our earlier discussion reminded me I needed to call Duke. I'd texted him to let him know I was back and safe at Lizzie’s. I knew he hated texting, which would give me a reprieve. Duke also hated talking on the phone about as much as texting, which meant he’d give me time before he called and yelled at me. I’d been putting off the call for weeks because I knew he would be upset with me and I didn't like to disappoint him. Lizzie had threatened my private parts if I didn't call him today. Plucking up the courage, I sat on our bed, made myself comfortable, and called him. The phone rang several times, and I felt nervous about speaking to him. Just as I was about to give up, an exasperated-sounding Duke answered the phone.
"Kid."
"Hey, old man. How's it going?"
"Kid, you know you are in deep shit, right?"
As I laughed down the line, I hoped it would put us both at ease.
"Yeah, I know, and I am sorry for making you worry."
"Kid, you have no idea how worried I was about you. There's a whole new patch of gray in my beard because of you."
"Old man your beard was gray when I left." The booming sound of Duke’s laugh down the line sent a sense of relief through my body.
"Kid, you are lucky you are far away."
"I am not scared of you, old man."
"You better be, or I will sic little Elizabeth on you."
"Duke, I am sorry." Then quickly I added, "I knew you'd like Lizzie."
Duke then chuckled, and I could feel his deep baritone laugh vibrate through the line. "Yes, she's a little spitfire. You got lucky with that one, kid. I am happy for you."
I knew too well that he was frowning on the other end.
"I don't fucking want you on the streets again. Do you hear me?"
"Yeah, it's been a crazy few weeks. I promise it won't happen again," I reassured Duke. I didn’t want to admit to myself that it was over a month since I’d spoken to him.
"You better not go back out there, kid. I am glad you are off the streets and it's all working out for you. Tell me more about that little spitfire."
Now I was beaming down the phone. Talking about Lizzie wasn't hard, and I wanted to share with him how I felt. He wasn't big on feelings, but I knew he'd understand because of his own love story.
"I can't wait for you to meet her. I'm going to marry her."
"Isn't it a little early to be talking about marriage?"
"Nope, we are getting married, and she's having my baby one day. I have to ask her and hope she says yes."
"Okay, kid, I'd like to meet her, although she scares me."
"She said the same thing about you."
He laughed again. "You know, good things come in little packages."
"Oh yeah. Plus, my Lizzie's a strawberry-blonde."
"Shit, kid, you better not lose her like I lost mine. Hold on to her. Stop with the secrets."
Understanding the weight of what he was saying, I swallowed hard. "I've told Lizzie my sordid story."
"Good, kid, you deserve the happy."
I knew what he meant and thought I'd better lighten up the discussion before he hung up on me for talking about our feelings. We usually didn't speak for long, but we managed to stay on the phone for over thirty minutes. He promised to come up to visit soon which gave me a great sense of calm after hanging up.