Chapter 37

Elliot grimaced at the question. He didn’t want to talk about what happened, didn’t want to be a disappointment. He knew Mick wanted him to come back even if he hadn’t mentioned it since the first time they’d talked. He settled on a half-truth.

“I went for a drive.” He sighed, frustrated with himself, wishing things weren’t so fucking hard. “And I arranged a funeral.”

“What?” Mick sounded shocked, so Elliot told him about the cat and the Mountain Bluebird with the broken neck.

“You’re making this up,” Mick chuckled.

“I swear it’s true.”

“So you buried it?”

“What was I going to do, leave it out to rot?”

“It’s hilarious.”

“It was so pretty. I was sad.” He’d seen bluebirds before, of course, but he hadn’t really appreciated their beauty when he’d been a teenager and more interested in boys than nature.

“Of course, you were.”

“Stop laughing.”

“I’m not laughing,” Mick said and laughed. “And then you said some beautiful words to send it on its way. Admit it.”