figure it out
Remus drags his fingertips along Sirius’ bumpy spine; he’s skinnier than his baggy leather jackets imply. He’s all skin and bones, really. When Remus has his hands around him he feels harsh ribs, hip bones, this pale skin marked with patches of black. He’s got this soft hair too. Remus had never given much thought to Sirius’ hair but he should have. Now that he knows what it feels like he’ll never stop tugging it, touching it, thinking about it.
And his waist. Sometimes he’d wear shirts that were sheared just a bit too short, and when he’d lift his arms up onto the microphone a bit of a pale strip of skin would emerge from beneath the fabric and Remus would get lost in the music, in his head, thinking about wrapping his hands around that tiny waist.
And he did. And he does. And he grips it as Sirius moves.
It’s the morning and they’ve just been kind of lazily snogging, both naked and neither of them wanting to do anything about it. Sirius called into work when he woke up half six, leaning against the doorframe wearing nothing at all. Remus made them some coffee around eight but it’s gone cold.
Now it’s close to noon and Remus’ phone is ringing, but he’s holding Sirius’ waist and his lips are on Sirius’ neck and his eyes open briefly and there’s a picture that Teddy made him on the nightstand so he shoves Sirius off and answers the phone.
“Remus Lupin speaking.”
“Remus, this is Marlene, and—“
He slams the phone back down. Fuck it all.
Back in the room, Sirius is getting dressed, pulling on his pants and his t-shirt. “Who was that?”
“Spam,” Remus says.
Sirius pauses putting on his watch to give Remus a knowing stare. “I’ve not known you long, but I know when you’re lying.”
Remus opens his drawer for a fresh pair of boxers. “It was Marlene, one of the girls in Wolf.”
“I know who Marlene is.”
“You know of her,” Remus corrects. “I’ve gotta change my bloody phone number again.”
“‘Cuz she found it?”
“I got a call from Evan a while back as well,” Remus says.
“So you change it every time they find it?”
“Yeah.” He tracks down a pair of joggers on the ground. “I’m trying to cut off contact.”
Sirius sits on the end of the bed and looks at Remus. “For Teddy.”
“Everything I do nowadays is for him.” He leans on his dresser. Sirius sitting on the edge of the bed, sheets rumpled behind him, sun in the windows. It almost feels too good to be true. “I’ve just… I’ve just gotta get through the court date.”
“And then what?”
“And then it’s the hard part.”
~
They get a fry-up for breakfast at a hole-in-the-wall place down the street then go back to Remus’ place and fuck. They then take a nap, and as Remus is drifting off, he realizes that all he might have needed is a distraction. Cocaine is in the back of his mind and Sirius moves into the front. He’s always just replaced one addiction with another.
They wake up for rehearsal that night. Sirius doesn’t have his guitar so he borrows one of Remus’ and they go to James’ house together. Sirius and James have some sort of secret meeting in the backyard while Lily and Remus talk circles around the fact that Remus and Sirius showed up together, and rehearsal begins.
“Can we run through All the Young Dudes again,” Remus says towards the middle of practice. “I feel like we can do better.”
“What about it didn’t you like?” James asks. He wipes sweat off his forehead; it’s a unseasonably hot late April evening that is only magnified by the stuffy garage.
“It feels like it’s the exact same as Hoople’s version. There’s no… creativity.”
“We’re a cover band,” Lily says. She has her hair back and took off her sweater a while back, now only wearing a tank top that shows off her many tattoos, snaky vines that weave up and down her arms. “We’re supposed to sound like the original band.”
“Isn’t that boring?”
“It’s what the crowd wants. If they can’t go see the real band, at least they can see something close,” James says.
Sirius is looking at him, hand wrapped around his microphone. His eyes are wide, not with fear, more like he wants to be left out of this conversation.
“Let’s just do it one more time,” Remus says, “and try to have some originality.”
“Right.” James slings his guitar to his back and puts his hands on his hips. “I get that you were in a rock band or whatever, and we’re trying to be accommodating to that, but we don’t wanna be that. We’re not trying to get noticed, we’re not trying to be something we’re not. We’re a cover band.”
“Are you sure of that?” Remus looks at Sirius, who quickly turns away, taking his hand off the microphone while shaking his head.
“We’ve kids. We’ve jobs,” Lily says softly. “We’re doing this to keep playing music, not for any other reason.”
“Sirius?” Remus prompts.
Sirius glances over at James, then says, “Yeah, Remus. This is just a bit of fun, that’s all.”
“Fine.” Remus digs his fingers into the strings of his bass. One of his calluses fell off a few days ago and it’s painful on his index again.
Rehearsal continues without playing All the Young Dudes again. Afterwards, Remus and Sirius are walking back to the car, and Remus says, “I guess I just don’t understand how you guys could just give up a dream so easily.”
Sirius sighs. “Are you still on this?”
“Yes, I’m still on this.” Remus puts his guitar in the backseat, then ducks into the front seat. He waits for Sirius to get in the car before saying, “I mean, it was your dream, right?”
“Yeah, it was.” He runs his hand through his hair. “It’s clearly still yours.”
Remus scoffs. “I’ve a kid now.”
“And it’s not enough to make you want to leave that life for good. Take me home.”
Remus turns on the car. “I’m still getting used to the idea of a… of a simple life like this. Living in Chester, not writing as much, going to the park. It’s not who I have ever been so excuse me for having a difficult time adjusting.”
“It’s not that, Remus,” Sirius looks at him. “It’s that I can tell you don’t belong here.”
“I could say the same for you.”
“Don’t…” he slouches. “Don’t.”
Remus backs out of the driveway. Before driving off, he drops his head on steering wheel and says, “I can’t do it.”
“You can’t do anything you don’t wanna.”
“But the thing is, I want to,” Remus says. He puts the car in park. “I want to have Teddy for a week and I want to be a good father and a good son and I want to have a bloody normal life, but everything in my body is fighting me and telling me to go back.”
“Maybe you should,” Sirius says softly.
Remus raises his head. Sirius is looking at his hands. Picking his cuticles. “What?”
“I dunno,” he shrugs. “Just think about it.”
Remus takes the car out of park and starts heading in the direction of Sirius’ flat. He’s thinking of having a meltdown or crashing the car and killing them both or turning up the music all the way or just driving as far towards London a half tank will get them and then walking the rest of the way. He’s thinking about pulling over and fucking Sirius right here and he’s thinking of kicking him out of the car and going to Dora’s to tell her he can’t he can’t he can’t what has he been thinking, thinking that he could care for a kid but then he thinks about his own father and how badly he wished that he was there and he keeps driving.
“I can’t go back,” Remus says at a red light. Nobody is coming and he should run it.
“You don’t have to go back to your band, you could just,” Sirius inhales, “do your own thing.”
Remus nods. Swallows. They’re pulling up to Sirius’ complex.
“Do something with music that you wanna do,” Sirius says. “Stay off the drugs and the drink and stay with your kid, but… be happy.”
Remus parks on the side of the road. One of the streetlamps is about to go out, and is strobing. Sirius takes Remus hand off the gear and kisses it. He says, “People should hear your music.”
Remus says, “People should hear yours.”
Sirius smiles softly. He lets go of Remus’ hand and opens the door, climbing out. He stands there for a moment, and Remus thinks he’s forgotten something until he ducks back in and says, “Aren’t you gonna come in with me?”
Remus grins, and follows him inside.
~
Remus takes Teddy to a little hole in the wall restaurant for lunch. It’s been a good day. Teddy managed not to have a single meltdown throughout the entire morning, instead he spent his quiet morning coloring and eating breakfast, then trailing Remus around the flat like a little shadow.
So they’re out for lunch. Remus orders a burger and Teddy gets chicken fingers and chips. His little face barely scraped the top of the table at the booth, so they moved to a table so Teddy could use a booster seat. He’s such a small kid.
“I’ve a question for you,” Remus says after listening to Teddy ramble about kids from school, stories which he is surely making up.
Teddy nods. “What is it?”
He’s been thinking about asking Teddy this for a while, ever since he first contacted family court, but he’s never had the balls. He’s either waited too long and the day has ended, or he thinks about it during the afternoon when Teddy most prefers to throw fits, but with court coming up so soon, he has no choice but to bring it up now.
“How’d you like to come live with daddy for a whole week?” Remus asks. He hopes he’s putting on a casual air, but he’s sure the lingering stress stinks.
“Huh?” Teddy says, cocking his head. He’s sitting on his knees and is gnawing on a chip.
“You know how you come to stay with me for the weekends?” Remus says, navigating carefully.
“Uh-huh.”
“Well you could do that, but for a full week.” He coughs. “Which means that daddy would take you to school, and to see your friends, and we could hang out longer than we get to right now.”
“So every day is a weekend?”
“Not exactly.” Remus scratches his head. Doesn’t know how to explain. He’s read up about this, knows that Teddy doesn’t exactly understand that parenting is usually done together rather than apart. “You know how you spend a week with Mummy?”
“Yeah?” Teddy’s little gears in his little head are ticking rapidly, overheating, he’s stopped moving and is focusing.
Why is this so hard. “You can do the same thing, but with Daddy.”
“But my weeks are for Mummy.”
“They could be with me too.”
Teddy frowns. He puts down his chip and crosses his arms.
In order to avoid what is about to become a meltdown, Remus decides to pick his battles. He sniffs. Says, “How about we go to the park after lunch, eh?”
Teddy nods. “Yeah.”
~
It’s after Teddy’s bedtime. The rest of the day has passed without a major incident. There was a minor breakdown during bedtime, but that’s hardly out of the norm. Teddy gets himself so tired that he can’t even comprehend that he needs to go to bed to feel better.
Remus is smoking on the window seat, pack and lighter by his feet, the outdoors his ashtray. He picks up the phone and dials the Potter residence.
“Hiya, Lily Potter speaking,” she says.
“Hey, Lily, it’s Remus.”
“Oh, hey! How’s it.”
“Good. I’m sorry for calling late.”
“Oh, it’s hardly late. We’ve not even got Harry to bed yet.”
Remus flicks his cigarette butt out the window, then leans down to grab another cigarette and his lighter. “I was wondering if James is around.”
“Yeah, he’s just upstairs. Let me call him.”
“Thanks.”
Lily evidently does not hold the phone away from her mouth when she shouts, “JAMES! PHONE!”
Remus fumbles with his cigarette, dropping the phone into his lap and nearly lighting himself on fire. “Shit.”
“He’s on the way,” Lily says, now at a normal volume.
“While I have you on the phone,” Remus says. He lights his cigarette. “I wanted to apologize for the last rehearsal.”
“You’ve nothing to apologize for.”
“I am still adjusting, so feel free to call me out whenever you want. It’ll help me.”
“I’ve never had any issues calling you out on your bullshit.”
“You’re right about that.”
Lily laughs. There’s a low murmur on the line, then she says, “James is here. Goodnight, Remus.”
“‘Night, Lily.”
And then the line is crackling, and there’s a conversation that Remus can’t catch, and then James is on the line and says, “Yellow?”
Remus grins. “Hey, James.”
“What’s up?”
“I’ve a question.”
“Shoot.”
“It’s about parenting stuff. I just…” Remus flicks ash out of his window. “I don’t think Teddy understands the whole concept of coming to live with me for a whole week. He got kinda upset about it today when I brought it up and I had to change the subject.”
“It’s gonna be a hard adjustment for him,” James says. There’s shuffling over the line, he might be sitting down. “I remember when Lily went back to school after being home with Harry for a year… it was rough. I had to put Harry to bed before Lily got home and it was miserable. It took him weeks to stop asking for her.”
“Shit.”
“But then it got better,” he says. “It’ll always get better, and you’ll have Teddy for a full week.”
“Maybe I’m not… maybe I’m not cut out for it.”
“Stop there,” he says sharply. “If you start thinking like that, then you’re gonna start acting like that. To Teddy, you’re the best damn father there is, so bloody act like it.”
Remus rubs his hand over his face, his stubble, god he needs to shave. “Do you think I can do it?”
“Without a doubt.”
Remus sighs and kind of feels like crying. He wants a drink so badly that it is going to consume him.
“We’re here whenever you need anything. Anything at all.”
~
Sirius doesn’t work on Mondays so Remus invites him over for a jam session that roughly translates into something like fucking. He spends his late morning cleaning up the general kid mess, putting the arts and crafts back into the bins, picking up crumbs and empty juice bottles, tucking away the kid sheet music practice cards that Remus has been trying and failing to get Teddy to read.
There’s a knock on the door as Remus is smoking by the window. He crosses the room, pushing in a chair at the table he was working on a crossword at earlier. He’s not wearing a shirt, but it’s just Sirius.
Except it’s not Sirius.
It’s Marlene and Mary.
“Goddamnit,” Remus grumbles. He leaves the door open and stalks back into the flat in search of a shirt.
“We wouldn’t have come unless it was important,” Marlene says, following him in in. Her giant boots clunk on the ground. The girls have decided to upkeep their rockstar garb even in bloody Chester.
Mary looks around the flat with a frown on her face. “This is where you live?”
Remus pulls a shirt over his head.
“It’s falling apart.”
“It’s charming.”
“You’re living in a pile of crap.”
“Thanks, Mary. You know where the door is.”
Marlene sits down at the table and takes a look at the crossword. “Living the residential life, eh, Remus?”
He puts his hands on his hips, eyes flitting between the two girls. They do not belong here, not in a place like this, not in Chester, not anymore. Not ever. Remus used to think he didn’t belong here either. He knows better now.
“You won’t answer your phone,” Mary says.
“It’s off the line.”
“You should keep it on the line.” Marlene erases something on the puzzle. “We had to drive all the way here.”
“Well, you see, I was avoiding talking to you.”
“Evan overdosed last month,” Mary says.
“What?”
She leans on the wall. “And then again two weeks ago. And two nights ago he had Peter drive him to rehab.”
“What?”
Marlene kicks her feet onto the table. “We just thought you’d wanna know.”
“Of course I- you- fucking… of course I wanna know! He’s my best mate!”
“Well you haven’t been acting like it,” Mary says. “So.”
Remus runs a hand through his hair. “Where…”
“Same rehab as you. Your cigarette is dead,” Marlene says.
Remus drops it into an ash tray.
It’s at that moment that Sirius decides to walk through the ajar door, holding his guitar and wearing a black t-shirt that says ‘bring on the hot mums’ that would be hilarious not given the situation.
“Who’s this?” Marlene says, eyebrows raised.
Mary smirks at Remus.
“I can… go,” Sirius says.
“No, just.” Remus sighs. “Guys, this is Sirius. Sirius, this is…”
“I know.” He puts down his guitar and says, “Big fan.”
“Evidently,” Marlene says dryly.
Mary lights a cigarette and Remus says, “Out the window, please.”
“Damn.” She obliges.
“Can you just plug your phone back in so we can call you,” Marlene says. “We’re very busy trying to find a new bassist.”
“So you’ve given up on me?”
She smiles. “Not yet.”
Remus rubs his face and says, “Alright, I’ll plug my phone in. In the meantime will you please fuck off so I can go see Evan.”
“Gladly.” Marlene stands up, wiping her hands on her jeans.
Mary tosses her cigarette out the window and follows Marlene out. “Why do you have a gnome, Remus?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Marlene stops, hand on the door knob. She turns around and god she’s a rockstar, red lips and black eyeliner. She says, “We miss you.”
Remus used to be like that. People used to look at him and know. They’d point and say him. Him, he’s a rockstar. “You miss me or the music?”
“You.” Marlene doesn’t even think about it. “You first, then the music.”
Remus sighs. “Get out.”
“Nice to meet you, Sirius!” Mary calls.
Marlene slams the door shut.
Remus locks it, then leans on the cool wood. He bangs his head against the door a few times. They’re chaotic. They’re crazy. They’re Marlene and Mary. He misses that unpredictability of them. He misses the stage and misses the fans but he misses his friends the most.
“Well they’re… something,” Sirius says, leaning against the table.
Remus sighs. He hits his head against the door one more time for good measure, then kicks off it and strides across the room to kiss Sirius.
Sirius backs into the table and it clatters backwards with the force of it, then Remus is lifting Sirius onto it and his legs are spreading to let Remus between them. His hands are everywhere, his tongue is doing that nice flicking thing, and it’s not that same adrenaline rush as the stage or cocaine but it’s pretty damn good.
It doesn’t last long. Sirius moves his head to the side, breathing hard. He’s kind of hard but doing a very good job hiding it. “Your mind isn’t here.”
“I’m sorry,” Remus says, hanging his head, resting it against Sirius’ chest. “I need to go see Evan.”
“I know.” Sirius runs his fingers through Remus’ hair. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
~
It’s the same concrete floors covered in rugs and white walls that Remus remembers. He does not remember arriving at rehab the first time, he remembers waking up here. The welcome desk was simply a reminder of this kind of barrier that he could not pass. When he arrived the second time, he was high but coherent. He walked right up to the front desk, having just been dropped off by Dora with little Teddy sleeping in the backseat, and said, I need help.
The front desk lady, Anne, recognized him from his first visit and had said, Oh, honey, then lets get you some help. At that point, the welcome desk had become a goal, a dream, something attainable.
Now, walking up to the front desk, Sirius close on his heels, he does not feel like he has reached his goal. He doesn’t even feel close.
“Remus!” Anne says. She’s wearing her usual skirt and button-up outfit, but her hair has been tied into dozens of little braids rather than her usual afro. A bit of fear crosses her complexion. Is he back? Did he relapse?
“Hi,” Remus says sheepishly. He leans over the thin desk and kisses her cheek. “Don’t worry, I’m back for a different reason.”
“I never doubted you.” Anne smiles warmly. Remus knows that she did, of course she did, but he holds nothing against her for it.
“I’m actually here to visit somebody,” he says. “Evan Rosier?”
“Yes! Your bandmate, is he not?”
“He is.” Remus glances back at Sirius, who, while he went to a different rehab, is probably receiving memories in bitter waves just like Remus. “I know it’s rather early, but I’d love to talk with him.”
“We’re a rehabilitation center, not a prison.” Anne pats his arm. “I’ll just get you both patted down, then you can head on in.”
“Oh, I won’t go in, but you’re free to pat me down,” Sirius says cheekily.
Anne giggles. Yes, Sirius Black has that effect on people. She walks around the desk. “Well then you can hang here with me. Arms out, Remus.”
He takes off his jacket, then complies. According to his manager, Peter, when he was patted down the first time, they found several grams of cocaine on him and three bottles of assorted pills. It was rather funny at the time, but looking back now it’s just sad.
Anne pats him down, then pages one of the nurses.
“Tell me how you are, then,” Anne says.
“I’m alright,” Remus replies. “I’ve got my son each weekend, though I’ve got court on Thursday to decide if I can get equal custody. I fix up guitars in the meantime.”
Sirius coughs.
“And I’m in a band, a different one,” Remus continues. He nods back to Sirius, “this one is the lead singer. We have fun.”
“That sounds just jolly,” she smiles. “Sounds like you’re quite the success story.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I’m there yet.”
“You’re there,” Anne says sincerely. “Don’t doubt yourself for a minute.”
The doors to visiting room opens. One of Remus’ nurses, Heidi, is waiting there for him with outstretched arms. He glances at Sirius, then all but runs to the old woman, practically falling into her arms. He doesn’t cry, no matter how hard he wants to.
“What a pleasure, Remus,” she says.
He melts into her fragile arms. “Hi.”
She was the nurse to whom he was the closest. All of the nurses were good, but Heidi treated him like a real person with valid feelings and struggles unlike the others, who saw him for what he was. An addict and a rockstar. She managed to find some good in all of his jumbled mess.
“Evan’s waiting for you,” she says softly. “I’m afraid we’ve had rather a rough few days.”
“I know how it is.”
She pats his arm. “Head on in, Remus.”
He knows where he’s going. Down the hall and to the left. He never got many visitors when he was in rehab. Dora once. His mam once. The band never came; they were too busy cleaning up his mess.
Remus opens the door to see Evan looking incredibly small, sitting on the sofa with his legs drawn to his chest. There are large purple circles under his eyes, and his fingernails are picked raw. His head snaps up when Remus enters the room.
“Hey,” Remus says.
“They said it was you,” Evan says. “I didn’t believe ‘em.”
Remus closes the door behind him. “Had to check in on you, didn’t I?”
“So they managed to get a hold of you?” Evan asks. He’s wrapped up in a blanket. Remus remembers that. The constant shivers, then bouts of heat, then back to ice. “Marlene and Mary?”
“Yeah,” Remus sits down beside him. He’s a year older than Evan, but he’s never really felt it before now. “Glad they did.”
Evan is just kind of staring into the distance. He’s shaking and picking at his nails. In the thick of it. He was so bright and warm, his presence took over a room, he commanded it, he was who everyone looked for. He is dull.
“It’s hard, right?” Remus says. He looks down at his hands. Remembers when they were red-raw.
Evan nods.
Remus swallows. Crosses his legs. He has been steady on his feet but this makes him wobble. He’s been whispering but now he wants to shout. Evan is blond and young, God, no matter how many centuries Remus feels like he’s lived, he’s so young.
“I didn’t wanna get sober,” Evan says finally.
Remus hums.
“But now I’m thinking, like, I wasn’t gonna do that for the rest of my life,” he says. “And I don’t wanna go through this again. This… this sucks.”
“Just talk to the people here,” Remus says. “And call me. I’ll pick up now. Trust yourself, your instincts.”
Evan nods.
“You’re doing something so good.” Remus slouches to look at him, willing him to look back. “This is so good, Evan.”
He nods once more, but his lip is quivering.
“Be friends with the people here, they’re kind. And… and ring me when you need help. For the love of God, Evan, don’t suffer in silence.”
He sniffs, then says brokenly, “I don’t… I don’t know how you did this all by yourself.”
“Can I touch you?” Remus asks. “Is that okay? I-“
Apparently that’s all that Evan needs to throw himself into Remus’ arms with such speed that probably sends a wave of nausea through him. Remus catches him, then holds him as Evan cries. Remus strokes his back and his hair and tells him that everything will be alright because it will, it will, it will, and Evan just cries until he has nothing left, and then he just lays there, hiccuping, until he raises himself up and looks at Remus head on.
“I’m gonna do it,” he says hoarsely. “I’m gonna do it.”
“And you’re gonna love it,” Remus says tearily. “It’s the best.”
Evan kisses Remus lightly. They don’t do this much anymore, it was typically reserved for teenage bedrooms trapped in tiny towns, a cause for nostalgia. Remus lets him before turning his head, disguising it as a hug.
“I’m proud of you,” Remus says because nobody said it to him.
Evan hums.
~
Remus softly closes the door to the visiting area and goes over to sit beside Sirius in the waiting area. He has found a crossword and is rather enthralled by it, has mostly finished it.
“How’s Evan?” Sirius asks, putting down his pencil.
“He’s been better,” Remus says. “But he’ll get there. He seems determined.”
“That’s good.” He runs a hand through his hair then says, “Shall we hit the road, then?”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
They get on the road, Sirius driving Remus’ car, windows down and wind whipping. They merge on the highway, it’s late and empty, sun well down, moon nowhere to be found. Remus hangs his hand out the window and lets himself have a think. Sirius, mercifully, is quiet.
Evan and his dejected eyes, exhausted, going through the withdrawals. Nobody thinks they’re getting back on drugs when they’re in rehab. But then half of them do. Remus thinks of them all, the band, being sixteen. They got their drugs and their liquor and they were smoking and snorting shit but Evan didn’t want to. Until Barty and him started fucking a few years later, until as soon as everyone knew it, Evan was an addict just like the rest of them.
“He’s not staying sober,” Remus says quietly.
Sirius’ fists tighten on the wheel. “What do you mean?”
“He’ll get out in two months, and he’ll go right back to Barty, and Barty’ll fuck it all up.” Remus sighs. “It’s like… it’s like something died in him when he was nineteen and he couldn’t get it back. I don’t… I don’t think he’s been trying.”
“So help him,” Sirius says simply. “Maybe you should go see Barty.”
“No, not this close to my court date.” Remus shakes his head. “Maybe in a bit. Maybe a few weeks after court.”
“Don’t leave him hanging,” Sirius says. “Don’t let him fall back in.”
~
Before court, Remus and Dora meet for lunch on Wednesday. They go to a nicer place down near Dora’s place, and Teddy comes along. He sits on his knees in the booth and hums away as he ignores his plate of chicken tenders and eats Remus’ burger and Dora’s salad.
Teddy updates them on his life, the paintings he’s made and the friends he’s made at preschool.
“I think it’s about time to put him in piano lessons, what do you think?” Remus asks.
“I don’t know if…”
“Maybe he’ll wanna do marching band or something, or learn, like, the clarinet,” Remus interrupts. “Piano is so good for a kid his age.”
Teddy tries to feed Dora a chip. She lightly nudges his hand away. “No, I agree, piano is a good idea. It’s just… I’m not sure if I have the, uh, money.”
“I’ll pay, no problem,” Remus says. “I have a keyboard. You’ve got an upright, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but—“
“I’ll pay, Dora.” He touches her hand and she jerks away. “If you need more money, I’ll—“
“No, I don’t need more money.” Teddy offers her a sip of his drink, and she shakes her head. “I’m gonna start working more when we get equal custody, I’ll need… I’ll need something to keep me busy, but I just…” she runs a hand through her brown hair, then starts digging around in her purse. “Ted, go sit with Daddy.”
“Why?” He cocks his head.
Remus scoots over and pats the wood beside him. “Come sit, sheyfele.”
Teddy decides to crawl under the table to get to the other side rather than walking around. It seems that neither Remus nor Dora have the energy to scold him.
Dora lights a cigarette and visibly relaxes. “Please get equal custody. Please be good enough.”
“I am,” Remus says.
“I believe you,” Dora says. “I believe you one hundred times over, but you know what the judge is gonna see when you walk in.”
“A washed up rock-star,” Remus says. “An irresponsible, addict, rock-star.”
Dora nods. “You went to go see Evan, didn’t you?”
“Dora…”
“You went to see him.”
Remus sighs. “Yeah, I did.”
“Remus, you can’t—“
“He’s my best friend, Dora!” Remus says, a bit too loudly. Teddy’s head snaps up at the change in tone. He hasn’t been paying too much attention to the conversation, too busy trying to fish his maraschino cherry out of his lemonade. Remus ruffles his hair to let him know everything’s okay. “I can’t just… I can’t just leave him hanging.”
“You’re not careful enough.”
“They’re my friends.”
“They’re addicts, Remus.”
He leans back in the booth, all fight dripping out of him like it’s a hot summer day. “I’m not as weak as I was.”
Dora crosses her arms. “And when he gets out? What then?”
“I don’t know.” He glances down at Teddy, this little boy that belongs to him, sitting so politely for this hard conversation, probably not understanding a word of these convoluted sentences full of references to past arguments, past lives.
“When will you let go?” she says, fingers holding her cigarette so tightly that she’s crushing the filter.
“I did.”
“No you didn’t.”
And Remus knows it’s true. Everything about his conversations with Sirius the past few days points to the fact that he can’t let it go. But maybe it’s not the band. Maybe it’s the music. He’s got this itch under his fingernails and he’s thinking that it’s not the drugs anymore. It’s the music.
“I’m figuring it out,” Remus says finally.
Dora stubs out her cigarette and motions to Teddy. “Figure it out faster.”