Everybody loves a clown ~ RP Moment
Like every other night since Sam left, Larry worked late into the night. Of course he had more work now than ever, but he was glad of that. It kept him busy. Distracted. And that was better than anything else he'd be getting himself into.
All he'd found himself doing lately was working or sitting around at any given bar, trying to talk to women. Or..do anything that took his mind off of...everything. There had been several flirtations, one guest home..and...one terrible mistake involving that woman from his office...which wasn't something he was letting himself think about.
He didn't have much of anything else. He couldn't go to CJ's, where it felt his only friends were. Though he wasn't all that sure he wanted to be there, either.
And then there was the night he'd run into Cora...
So it wasn't any different for him that he worked late and then went to find a bar stool to park himself on for the remainder of the evening. He ordered a scotch and sat quietly watching his hands. He didn't bother trying to look for someone to talk to, or even pay a bit of attention to the other people in the bar. Somewhere into his second glass he pulled out his cell phone and stared at it. He flipped it open and slowly moved through his contact list.
He didn't want to bother with the irony of how many numbers he had in his phone, and yet not a single one could he call. Until one name was highlighted. He watched it until the back light switched off and then hit send. He held the phone to his ear as it rang.
"Hello?" Helena answered sounding tired and distant.
"Hey," he said softly.
"Larry?" She sounded genuinely surprised. Which she had every right to. "How are you?"
"Mmm," he answered.
She sighed. "That great?"
"How are you?"
"Tired and wondering what's wrong."
"Why should something be wrong?" He asked.
"Because you only call me when something is wrong."
"Well I...I don't have anyone else to call."
"Most men would prefer silence to calling their ex-wife."
"Since when am I most men?"
Helena let out a soft laugh. "Very true. Alright, you've got me awake and worried. Talk to me."
"There isn't much to talk about," he gave a shrug she couldn't see.
"How's Sam?"
"Good. He...he's off at this school near Boston."
"Oh? You must miss him."
"Sure I do."
She sighed and went quiet, not really in the mood for their old ways of her forcing out what he needed to say. She waited instead. He realized what she was doing, but he couldn't say a word of what was on his mind. Not even to her. He tilted his head back to finish his scotch and let it burn down his throat.
It was a long silence. Neither spoke as Larry got another drink and began to work on it. He heard her sigh again. His eyes dropped closed and his fingers moved over his eyes.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called," he finally said.
"Larry..."
"I hope everything's good for you, Helena."
"I'm...trying. Divorce is hell."
"I know."
"Yes, well.." she trailed off and he nodded. There wasn't much to be said on the matter between them. Both of their minds went to the night they'd seen each other...when they were both in bad places...when things went places they shouldn't have.
"Goodnight," he said softly.
"Go get some sleep," she said before hanging up.
Larry closed his phone and dropped it down on the bar. He wasn't sure what he would have said to Helena if he could have. Maybe he'd tell her how much harder New York was than he'd wanted to deal with. He'd tell her how alone he felt. How he'd relied too much on his son, and now that Sam was gone, Larry didn't know what to do with himself. Maybe he'd have told her how much he still wanted to run. Leave the city for good. Or he'd tell her....how he wished he could forget everything and just be the goofy guy most people knew him to be. That it would be so much easier on him. Easier all around, really. People didn't want a Larry that didn't know what to do with himself...they wanted a Larry that was a joke. A fun break from their own lives and drama within. Something they didn't have to take seriously.
No. He had no idea what to do with himself. And he didn't have a soul he could say it to. So instead, it burned at his insides. More so than the scotch he was trying to drown it out with.
All he'd found himself doing lately was working or sitting around at any given bar, trying to talk to women. Or..do anything that took his mind off of...everything. There had been several flirtations, one guest home..and...one terrible mistake involving that woman from his office...which wasn't something he was letting himself think about.
He didn't have much of anything else. He couldn't go to CJ's, where it felt his only friends were. Though he wasn't all that sure he wanted to be there, either.
And then there was the night he'd run into Cora...
So it wasn't any different for him that he worked late and then went to find a bar stool to park himself on for the remainder of the evening. He ordered a scotch and sat quietly watching his hands. He didn't bother trying to look for someone to talk to, or even pay a bit of attention to the other people in the bar. Somewhere into his second glass he pulled out his cell phone and stared at it. He flipped it open and slowly moved through his contact list.
He didn't want to bother with the irony of how many numbers he had in his phone, and yet not a single one could he call. Until one name was highlighted. He watched it until the back light switched off and then hit send. He held the phone to his ear as it rang.
"Hello?" Helena answered sounding tired and distant.
"Hey," he said softly.
"Larry?" She sounded genuinely surprised. Which she had every right to. "How are you?"
"Mmm," he answered.
She sighed. "That great?"
"How are you?"
"Tired and wondering what's wrong."
"Why should something be wrong?" He asked.
"Because you only call me when something is wrong."
"Well I...I don't have anyone else to call."
"Most men would prefer silence to calling their ex-wife."
"Since when am I most men?"
Helena let out a soft laugh. "Very true. Alright, you've got me awake and worried. Talk to me."
"There isn't much to talk about," he gave a shrug she couldn't see.
"How's Sam?"
"Good. He...he's off at this school near Boston."
"Oh? You must miss him."
"Sure I do."
She sighed and went quiet, not really in the mood for their old ways of her forcing out what he needed to say. She waited instead. He realized what she was doing, but he couldn't say a word of what was on his mind. Not even to her. He tilted his head back to finish his scotch and let it burn down his throat.
It was a long silence. Neither spoke as Larry got another drink and began to work on it. He heard her sigh again. His eyes dropped closed and his fingers moved over his eyes.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called," he finally said.
"Larry..."
"I hope everything's good for you, Helena."
"I'm...trying. Divorce is hell."
"I know."
"Yes, well.." she trailed off and he nodded. There wasn't much to be said on the matter between them. Both of their minds went to the night they'd seen each other...when they were both in bad places...when things went places they shouldn't have.
"Goodnight," he said softly.
"Go get some sleep," she said before hanging up.
Larry closed his phone and dropped it down on the bar. He wasn't sure what he would have said to Helena if he could have. Maybe he'd tell her how much harder New York was than he'd wanted to deal with. He'd tell her how alone he felt. How he'd relied too much on his son, and now that Sam was gone, Larry didn't know what to do with himself. Maybe he'd have told her how much he still wanted to run. Leave the city for good. Or he'd tell her....how he wished he could forget everything and just be the goofy guy most people knew him to be. That it would be so much easier on him. Easier all around, really. People didn't want a Larry that didn't know what to do with himself...they wanted a Larry that was a joke. A fun break from their own lives and drama within. Something they didn't have to take seriously.
No. He had no idea what to do with himself. And he didn't have a soul he could say it to. So instead, it burned at his insides. More so than the scotch he was trying to drown it out with.