Chapter Text
Mike Wheeler has had his share of proud moments—this was not one of them.
The 21st century had not been kind to him. So much had changed from when he was a boy, and he didn’t like that. “Just think of David Bowie,” someone wise had once said to him. Or maybe not. Mike thought of him so much, he couldn’t separate what had actually happened from what he had fantasised. Although perhaps “fantasised” was too strong a word…
He slumped in the back of the car like a child, drowning in his dad’s old sweater, strangled by the seatbelt. The blue wool clawed at his skin, and it didn’t even smell like home. Mike longed for that warm, childhood smell, his smell.
He stared blankly into the window ahead, his neck aching from his head being tilted slightly to the left. A million thoughts cycled around in his head like little kids learning how to ride bikes, crashing, falling, persisting.
Karen said something from the front seat.
“Huh?” Mike murmured, still lost in thought.
“I said, Michael,” Karen repeated, “have you and Will been keeping in touch? You two used to be so close.”
The mention of Will snapped Mike out of his thoughts like the crack of a whip. He could hear the concern in her voice. He faltered. “Uh, Mom, that was like 40 years ago. Not everything can last forever, you know.”
The words stung his tongue as they left, but it wasn’t any worse than what he had been telling himself for the last 38 years. Each agonising day, waking up in an empty bed, thinking to himself nothing lasts forever, nothing lasts forever.
“Well, maybe this is a good opportunity for you two to reconnect?” Karen proposed. Her optimism rendered Mike speechless, along with the thought of having to face Will again, after all these years.
And really, as much as he tried to deny it, it was all his fault. It was his fault back then, and it was his fault now. He could’ve visited, it’s not like California was too far away. He could’ve learnt how to use a phone, he could’ve done anything. He could’ve written at the very least.
But that would only make the pain feel real, and not like some cruel wet dream he couldn’t wake up from.
“Well I think this dinner will be good for all of us. It’s been a while since we’ve seen even Nancy,” Karen continued.
Mike could hear the smile in her voice, but he couldn’t bring himself to adopt it. The hope, on the other hand… well he had been harbouring that every day of his life.
“Now son, remind me again, why couldn’t you have just driven yourself?” Ted murmured from the passenger seat.
Mike couldn’t believe it. His own dad, who was pushing 90, was asking him about driving? “Dad, I’ve told you this, I don’t like driving alone,” he said, failing to mask his annoyance.
Alone.
The word hung in the air like a suicide victim.
“Well, how do you get around everywhere else then?” Ted continued. “Seeing as you still haven’t found yourself a wife to look after you. And you’re running out of options too, unless you’re like me…”
“Ted, we’ve been over this, marrying younger isn’t the done thing anymore,” Karen interrupted quietly. “And please stop pestering him about it. There’s still plenty of beautiful women out there, isn’t that right, Mikey?”
Mike did hear what she had said, but he had already slipped back into his mind. Sure, there were beautiful women, Mike could appreciate that. But beautiful couldn’t even begin to describe the man he was about to see tonight.