{new york city} The Odd Couple
He hadn't given much consideration in the past to live in New York City. Growing up, it was all about finding a way out of Miami. During highschool he knew he had a few options for getting out, and the first he considered was joining the Army. But then he found some information about professional engineering, and it was something that really interested him. He started to look into it, and focus on the grades he knew he would need. He had a goal, and he was shooting high. MIT. He knew there was no way in hell his parents could afford it, and that his father wouldn't even accept it.
His way out came by way of scholarships. That and an acceptance letter to the first school of his choosing. To the day, he still had the scar in the back of his skull from where is father shoved him into a wall for daring to make their family look poor. As per usual, Michael sucked it up and buried it down. It didn't matter, because he had his way out, and he was never going back.
After MIT he went to Boston for awhile, following work, but when the economy started to fall apart he lost his job. He was determined to not return home, even though his father was dead and gone. He couldn't live with or near his mother. It wasn't an option.
A buddy he had worked with up in Boston years before was now hunkered down in New York City. He had taken early retirement before the economy fell out, and was living it out in the big city. Why, Michael didn't know. He always pictured his friend laying out on some beach somewhere, but that was beside the point.
Sam had offered him a place to stay, and Michael jumped at the opportunity. He wasn't sure Boston could offer him much more, so he made the move. His mother was highly disappointed in him. She thought he needed to go home and reconnect with her and his brother Nate, but it was the last place Michael wanted to be. There was too much there. Too many memories that he preferred to block out
***
"Maddie called," Sam announced, as Michael walked into the apartment.
Michael rolled her eyes. "Why do you call her that?"
"She tells me to every time she calls."
"Can't you tell her I've died or moved to Siberia?"
"You want me to lie to your poor, kindhearted mother?"
Michael set the grocery bags on the counter and gave Sam a raised brow look. "Poor and kindhearted? Are we talking about the same Madeline Westen?"
Sam grinned and went for the bags, peering through them. "Okay, something like that." He made a face and pushed the bags off. "No beer, lots of yogurt. What is wrong with you?"
"You have beer, Sam."
"Yeah, but it won't last."
"That isn't my problem." Michael started putting the yogurt and other things away.
"I'm thinkin' you should really see someone about this yogurt obsession of yours. It isn't healthy."
"It isn't?" Mike peeled a lid back and grabbed a spoon for his blueberry yogurt.
"No." Sam opened the fridge and grabbed a beer, popping the top and heading back towards the living room. "Call your mother, Mikey. You know she'll just keep callin' otherwise."
Michael watched Sam go with a slight glare and set his jaw. He knew the man was right, but it didn't make him want to talk to his mother any more.
He let himself finish his yogurt, rinse out the cup, and toss it into the recycling. Then he carefully washed his spoon and dried it, before setting it back in the drawer. Only then did he take the phone and sit down, dialing his mother's number slowly. He brought the phone to his ear as it rang.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Mom," he said evenly.
"Michael, why haven't you called me back?"
"I'm calling you now."
"I've been trying to reach you for days. You're unemployed, how busy can you be?"
"I've been searching for jobs and apartments, Mom."
"Why? You should just come home. I hate that you moved away in the first place and...and I'm getting older and need help from my children."
Michael rolled his eyes. "So have Nate move back in."
"I want both of my sons here for the final years of my life," she said dramatically.
"You're not dying anytime soon." Unfortunately. "You're overreacting."
"Why can't you just come back to Miami? This is your home. I don't understand why you're so angry about the idea."
"You don't? Really?"
"No, Michael. I don't."
Michael sighed and shook his head, not bringing up the endless physical assaults he took for her and his younger brother, or the mental assaults he took that were full on attacks on him. He didn't bring up that his father wouldn't speak to him or come with Madeline to visit him at school once he moved away. He just sighed.
"Mom, I can't talk now."
"Why not?"
"I...I have a date," he lied.
Sunshine streamed through the line. Her voice was bright and excited. "Really? With who? Oh, are you seeing Fiona again?"
Michael closed his eyes, ignoring the slight stab the name gave to his chest. "No Mom, Fi's not around. And it's no one you know."
"Well tell me her name at least."
"Sarah," he fibbed quickly. "Her name is Sarah, and I really need to go change so I can pick her up."
"Where are you taking her? Get flowers, Michael. You have to get-"
"I got flowers, Mom. I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Alright, Michael. Have a good time, honey. Be yourself, she'll love you."
"Uh-huh." He hung up and pushed the phone across the table, letting out a long breath. He felt movement and glanced up, spotting Sam standing in the doorway. Sam shook his head.
"Sarah, huh?" Sam asked, shaking his empty beer can.
Michael glared slightly, then shook his head as he stood up. "It got her off the phone."
"I think people can go to hell for lying to their mothers," Sam noted, heading for the kitchen.
"Probably," Michael nodded. He grabbed his keys and jacket and headed for the door.
"Hey! Bring back beer!" Sam shouted from the kitchen.
Michael rolled his eyes again and shut the door behind himself, before heading down the hall and towards the elevator. He wasn't too sure where he was going, but he needed to walk.
His way out came by way of scholarships. That and an acceptance letter to the first school of his choosing. To the day, he still had the scar in the back of his skull from where is father shoved him into a wall for daring to make their family look poor. As per usual, Michael sucked it up and buried it down. It didn't matter, because he had his way out, and he was never going back.
After MIT he went to Boston for awhile, following work, but when the economy started to fall apart he lost his job. He was determined to not return home, even though his father was dead and gone. He couldn't live with or near his mother. It wasn't an option.
A buddy he had worked with up in Boston years before was now hunkered down in New York City. He had taken early retirement before the economy fell out, and was living it out in the big city. Why, Michael didn't know. He always pictured his friend laying out on some beach somewhere, but that was beside the point.
Sam had offered him a place to stay, and Michael jumped at the opportunity. He wasn't sure Boston could offer him much more, so he made the move. His mother was highly disappointed in him. She thought he needed to go home and reconnect with her and his brother Nate, but it was the last place Michael wanted to be. There was too much there. Too many memories that he preferred to block out
***
"Maddie called," Sam announced, as Michael walked into the apartment.
Michael rolled her eyes. "Why do you call her that?"
"She tells me to every time she calls."
"Can't you tell her I've died or moved to Siberia?"
"You want me to lie to your poor, kindhearted mother?"
Michael set the grocery bags on the counter and gave Sam a raised brow look. "Poor and kindhearted? Are we talking about the same Madeline Westen?"
Sam grinned and went for the bags, peering through them. "Okay, something like that." He made a face and pushed the bags off. "No beer, lots of yogurt. What is wrong with you?"
"You have beer, Sam."
"Yeah, but it won't last."
"That isn't my problem." Michael started putting the yogurt and other things away.
"I'm thinkin' you should really see someone about this yogurt obsession of yours. It isn't healthy."
"It isn't?" Mike peeled a lid back and grabbed a spoon for his blueberry yogurt.
"No." Sam opened the fridge and grabbed a beer, popping the top and heading back towards the living room. "Call your mother, Mikey. You know she'll just keep callin' otherwise."
Michael watched Sam go with a slight glare and set his jaw. He knew the man was right, but it didn't make him want to talk to his mother any more.
He let himself finish his yogurt, rinse out the cup, and toss it into the recycling. Then he carefully washed his spoon and dried it, before setting it back in the drawer. Only then did he take the phone and sit down, dialing his mother's number slowly. He brought the phone to his ear as it rang.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Mom," he said evenly.
"Michael, why haven't you called me back?"
"I'm calling you now."
"I've been trying to reach you for days. You're unemployed, how busy can you be?"
"I've been searching for jobs and apartments, Mom."
"Why? You should just come home. I hate that you moved away in the first place and...and I'm getting older and need help from my children."
Michael rolled his eyes. "So have Nate move back in."
"I want both of my sons here for the final years of my life," she said dramatically.
"You're not dying anytime soon." Unfortunately. "You're overreacting."
"Why can't you just come back to Miami? This is your home. I don't understand why you're so angry about the idea."
"You don't? Really?"
"No, Michael. I don't."
Michael sighed and shook his head, not bringing up the endless physical assaults he took for her and his younger brother, or the mental assaults he took that were full on attacks on him. He didn't bring up that his father wouldn't speak to him or come with Madeline to visit him at school once he moved away. He just sighed.
"Mom, I can't talk now."
"Why not?"
"I...I have a date," he lied.
Sunshine streamed through the line. Her voice was bright and excited. "Really? With who? Oh, are you seeing Fiona again?"
Michael closed his eyes, ignoring the slight stab the name gave to his chest. "No Mom, Fi's not around. And it's no one you know."
"Well tell me her name at least."
"Sarah," he fibbed quickly. "Her name is Sarah, and I really need to go change so I can pick her up."
"Where are you taking her? Get flowers, Michael. You have to get-"
"I got flowers, Mom. I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Alright, Michael. Have a good time, honey. Be yourself, she'll love you."
"Uh-huh." He hung up and pushed the phone across the table, letting out a long breath. He felt movement and glanced up, spotting Sam standing in the doorway. Sam shook his head.
"Sarah, huh?" Sam asked, shaking his empty beer can.
Michael glared slightly, then shook his head as he stood up. "It got her off the phone."
"I think people can go to hell for lying to their mothers," Sam noted, heading for the kitchen.
"Probably," Michael nodded. He grabbed his keys and jacket and headed for the door.
"Hey! Bring back beer!" Sam shouted from the kitchen.
Michael rolled his eyes again and shut the door behind himself, before heading down the hall and towards the elevator. He wasn't too sure where he was going, but he needed to walk.