(Untitled)

[simon_doctor]

Jordie,

It's been weeks. Are you still willing to call a do-over?

Simon

Comments

[walk_ins]

Wednesday at seven-thirteen.

Jordie has heavy, dark circles under his eyes.

He's sitting in a booth, smoking. A slice of pie is in front of him, untouched.

[walk_ins]

"How profound." Back to acerbic.

[simon_doctor]

"Not especially." Mild.

[walk_ins]

Jordie looks up. "Why are you here, Tam?"

[simon_doctor]

"I wanted to see you."

Steadily.

"Why did you tell me you'd be here?"

[walk_ins]

"Because it's about time we started acting like grownups now that we're starting to die off."

If the words sound familiar... they should.

"It's a debt. I hate debts."

[simon_doctor]

It's a moment before Simon says anything.

"A debt?"

[walk_ins]

"I couldn't stand up to the woman I was shacking up with," Jordie says, dry. "I think I owe something."

[simon_doctor]

Beat.

"And if I said to consider that debt paid, then what?"

[walk_ins]

"If it were up to you, I wouldn't be here."

[simon_doctor]

Simon's lips press together.

"Hao le," he says, very quietly, very levelly. "Fine. You think you owe me something?"

One hand flattens on the tabletop.

"I'm calling it in. All of it. Get yourself some help."

[walk_ins]

Jordie's turned white.

His hand trembles a little as he lowers his cigarette to the ashtray.

[simon_doctor]

"If for some bèn dàn reason you won't do it on your own account, then do it because I'm asking you to." Bitterly: "Because you owe me."

Silence, for the space of a breath.

"And in the meantime I needn't take up any more of your time with insipid small talk."

[walk_ins]

"Oh, shut up, Tam." Sharp, and automatic.

[simon_doctor]

Cold. "That was the general idea."

He shifts his feet, on the point of rising from the table.

[walk_ins]

"And sitting back down isn't?"