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Part I
***
Karen’s special.
Billy is unashamed about the fact that he’s always had a thing for older women, and maybe it’s because he has mommy issues, maybe it’s because there’s something fucked up in his head, but Karen is special. There’s a lot of layers of fucked up that come with falling in love with someone over twice his age that’s married and has three kids, but she’s just special.
She’s shy and sweet and looks at him with a hunger in her eyes that he usually only gets from the high school girls. Except — there’s something else there, he comes to realize, the longer he spends flirting with her and buttering her up every chance he gets. (Usually in the few minutes that it takes Max to finish up playing whatever nerd game that she and her friends play in the Wheeler’s basement.) She looks at him and speaks to him in a way that’s tender, and not tender in the way he remembers his mom being, or tender in the way that Susan is with Max, but tender in the way that he thinks she should be with her husband.
There’s one night that Max takes a little too long to finish up with Dungeons and Dragons.
The two of them — Billy and Karen — have been dancing around the elephant in the room for months, long enough that Billy graduates in a few weeks.
Karen’s a little dolled up — beautiful — and even though Billy’s putting on the charm, his heart is in his throat when he decides that it wouldn’t take much. She’s standing a little too close, closer than what’s appropriate, and all he has to do is dip his head down a little bit and kiss her. It’s as simple as that and he really likes the way her hand feels on his jaw.
It’s not a heated kiss. He’s always sort of expected kissing her to be some sort of hot and heavy moment, maybe in a seedy motel room a few towns over, but it’s not like that. It’s pretty quick and chaste, since her husband is a few rooms over and since her kid and his little sister and their friends are in the basement, but it leaves him feeling giddy in a way that he hasn’t felt since before he left California.
If Max notices the way he’s trying not to smile or the way Karen’s lipstick is smudged, she doesn’t comment on it.
*
Billy asks Karen out a week into July. He has some money stashed away in his bank account and he feels particularly bold when he pulls up to the Wheeler residence and sees that Karen’s in the front yard tending to the rosebushes in the flowerbeds. This is probably a bad idea and he knows Ted’s home, since his car is in the driveway, but there’s something about the way that her face softens when he’s lifting himself out of his Camaro that gives him all the confidence in the world.
He puts on the charm, because that’s his default around her.
She says, “Good afternoon, Billy,” with a soft, shy smile on her face, and he grins.
“Good afternoon to you, Karen.” He walks up to her. She’s kneeling on the ground in front of her flowerbeds, with a small pile of weeds next to her lap. She isn’t dolled up, her hair is pulled up, she has on a t-shirt that obviously doesn’t belong to her under a pair of overalls, and Billy finds himself thinking that she’s really fuckin’ pretty. She fiddles with the hem on her gardening gloves as Billy speaks to her. “So.” He lets his voice drop an octave, into a practiced sort of alluring timbre. “There’s a diner that just opened in Evansville, and I really think you’d like it.”
Her face falls and Billy chews his gum a little faster, trying not to reach for the pack of cigarettes in his back pocket. She smiles again, this time a little sadly, maybe, and pulls her gardening gloves off. “Billy, I don’t think that would be very appropriate.”
“What’s inappropriate about it?” He challenges. “Two friends, out for dinner. My treat.”
She bites her bottom lip, as if she’s worrying, or thinking, or both, and not in a way that’s meant to be seductive. She sighs and the ‘it’s against my better judgment, but—’ is left unsaid as she accepts the dinner offer.
Billy feels like he’s walking on cloud nine when she approaches him a few days later, while he’s sitting atop of the lifeguard tower at the pool to tell him what evenings she has free the following week. This is different than the smug sort of feeling he gets whenever one of the high school girls agrees to go out with him and it’s a little scary but it’s nice, nice enough that he chases after it.
*
Karen’s favorite band is Queen.
Billy picks her up around seven on a Thursday, and lets her look through his cassettes once she’s in his car. He knows he has a pathetic, lovesick sort of look on his face as he watches her looking through his cassettes, but he can’t quite bring himself to care.
He has a few cassettes that he rarely listens to unless he’s in a mood, one of which being A Night At The Opera, and as soon as her eyes land on it, she gasps, nice and soft, and Jesus, even the way she picks the tape out of the box Billy keeps his cassettes in is gentle. She says, “Oh, I love Queen,” with a sort of nostalgic tone to her voice.
Billy ejects the tape that’s already in the radio, sticks it in the glove box in his car, and holds his hand out as a hint for her to hand him the tape.
Queen isn’t exactly his thing but Karen lights up as soon as soon as it starts playing from the tinny speakers in the car and he can’t find it in himself to complain.
*
Their dinner isn’t technically supposed to be a date but it feels like a date.
She seems a little flustered when Billy tells her that she looks beautiful, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and breaking eye contact. His heart fucking aches.
Billy knows he smiles like a dumb ass when she tells him that he cleans up nicely. She kisses him on the cheek when he smiles, and that’s all the encouragement he needs to turn his head slightly to the left, capturing her lips in a kiss.
It’s more heated than the last kiss.
It’s dark out — dark enough that she’s apparently feeling bold enough to grab his ass through his jeans.
Usually, if a girl grabs his ass while they’re kissing, he’s quick to bat their hands away.
When Karen does it, he smiles into their kiss and laughs a little bit before returning the favor. It’s a nice, tight hand full through her skirt. She laughs too and it sounds like fucking heaven and Billy makes a mental note to try making her laugh more.
He’s damn near weak in the knees when she’s telling him to get into the backseat of his car.
They fuck, yet it doesn’t feel quite like fucking, but it also doesn’t feel like they’re making love, or some other corny bullshit. It’s fairly quick, it’s dirty, it’s sloppy. Billy knows he’s not going to last long the second she hikes her skirt up for him, revealing that she’s wearing not a goddamn thing underneath it, and to his surprise, she doesn’t last too long herself. He’s buried deep inside her when his balls tighten and draw up a bit, and about as soon as she’s tightening up around him, making some sort of high pitched, choked off noise, he’s coming, and he’s coming hard.
She giggles — giggles, and it’s, like, actually kind of adorable to him — when he pulls out and manhandles her, flipping her onto her back, and dropping down to his stomach, knees in the floorboard, licking her clean. It’s obscene and he thinks that, maybe, he should be ashamed of himself, or she should be calling a cab or something, but out of all the girls (and the few guys, too) that he’s gone through, he’s never felt quite like this, never felt the need to not put on a show, has never quite felt like he’s home, not like this, not with his face buried between her thighs and her fingers running through his hair.
They share a few cigarettes together after the fact and something feels right about having her tucked into his side like this.
*
Billy’s almost positive that their little tryst to Evansville was a one time thing, that it would be the end of whatever they had going on between them, and surprisingly enough, he’s mostly made his peace with it by the next time he has to pick Max up from Karen’s, which is a few weeks later.
Before he has a chance to shout at Max from the top of the stairs, Karen’s curling her finger towards herself a few times, and Billy gets the hint to follow her. He ends up sitting on the island in her kitchen and she hands him a glass of water. Billy doesn’t say anything, but he watches her like a hawk. She always softens whenever he’s around and he really likes that about her. She seems a little too relaxed, though, when she’s leaning against the counter across from him to say, “I had a talk with Ted a few nights ago.”
This is it, he thinks.
“Yeah? What about?” is what he asks. He’s fucking nervous and this feels sort of like a breakup and usually he’s the one doing the breaking up, not the other way around. He doesn’t let it show on his face.
“Well…” She doesn’t look him in the eyes. She’s toying with her left ring finger and Billy notices that she’s not wearing her wedding band. “We’re going to sit down with our children, soon, but… I’m filing for divorce.” She does look him in the eyes now, and speaks again before he has a chance to ask the question on the tip of his tongue. “This isn’t your fault. This has been building for a long time, and truthfully… We probably should have done this a decade ago.” She scoffs, quietly, toying with her necklace. “I know that there’s no obligations between us, but I feel as if it’s more appropriate that you hear this from me, rather than your sister or Nancy.”
Billy doesn’t point out that he’s hardly done more than exchange a few dirty looks here and there with Nancy. Instead, he says, “I appreciate that, Karen. So… What does this mean? Y’know, between me and you, in an ideal world.” He wants her, more than anything in the fucking world.
But she still gives him something of a sad look, and sighs.
He doesn’t pull away when she reaches for his hand. Her fingers aren’t long enough to wrap around his, but that doesn’t stop her from holding them in her own.
She opens and closes her mouth a few times. Billy’s pretty sure that if she were, say, a decade younger, maybe she would have just said that it meant that they could be together, but she’s older, she’s more mature, and he’s not surprised that she goes with the mature option. “In an ideal world, I would love to date you.” She means it and he can tell. “But, we live in this world, and… I don’t think we should be together. At least not until the divorce is finalized.”
Billy doesn’t hold back when he sighs out of relief. “Jesus, I thought you were going to tell me to get lost.”
She smiles, nice and sweet. “You’re free to go, and please, sweetie, don’t feel like I’m trying to pressure you, but… If, say, in a few months, you’d maybe… Like to go out…” She shrugs. Her fingers tighten around Billy’s. “I wouldn’t say ‘no.’”
*
Neil pegs Billy with the task of going with Max when that time of the year rolls around where she needs to buy school supplies. Susan wouldn’t dare cross Neil or offer to take Max herself, and things between himself and Max have been easier lately, so he doesn’t do more than grumble about it in passing.
Neither of them are overly conversational. Billy pushes the cart and she picks out whatever shit she needs, but while she’s looking at a display of notebooks, trying to decide on which fruity pattern she wants on the cover, she says, “Mike’s parents are getting divorced,” as if she were talking about the fucking weather.
Billy already knows. “No shit? You think Karen needs someone to swoop in and save the day?”
Max makes a face and calls him a pig. “I don’t think I can ever get that image out of my head. Fuck you. Jesus.” She physically cringes after that, before continuing with what she’d meant to say in the first place. “Mike’s never really liked me, but he’s been trying to get me to talk about what it was like when my parents divorced, and I don’t know what to tell him, because I was, like, nine.”
“Are you asking me for advice? Because, if you are, I think you’re barking up the wrong tree. You know how Neil is, man.”
She gives him a grave look and shudders. “Do you have any words of wisdom for me to pass onto him? Like, at all? I don’t want to be a bitch to him, but I really don’t know what to tell him.”
“His parents are better off divorced,” is the first thing he says. “Obviously shit wasn’t workin’ out, and in the long run, it’s better for everyone involved if they aren’t together, y’know? Everyone’s happier that way. Maybe Ted can find some young piece of ass to fall in love with, and maybe Karen will do the same.”
Max gives him another look, like she’s trying to figure him out, and he half expects her to ask him if he knows something, but she doesn’t.
*
Billy has enough money saved to move out, plus a better job, by the time October rolls around. He can’t move far, because he doesn’t have that much saved up, but he ends up in a cozy little two bedroom basement apartment a few miles from Casa Hargrove. Far enough away that he doesn’t worry about seeing Neil more than once in a while, but close enough that if Max ever needs to, for whatever reason, walking or skating wouldn’t be unrealistic.
They don’t have an in depth discussion about it, but she helps him carry some of his stuff into the apartment, if only to get out of the house for the afternoon. He tells her, “Hey, man, if you ever, like, need to get away from Neil or whatever, you can totally crash here.”
Max nods and despite their differences, Billy’s glad she’s not one for long, emotional talks.
***
Part II
***
Mike isn’t stupid
He’s chock full of angst, anger, and teenage ambition, but he’s not stupid and he’s not blind.
Children are oddly receptive when it comes to their parents and he doesn’t miss the way his father turns a blind eye to everything his mother does, or the way his mother drinks wine and reads her novels instead of spending any quality time with her husband. He knows Holly was supposed to be a fix it baby, and even if he loves her to death, he knows why they had another kid instead of getting a divorce.
He asks Nancy about it a few months before he starts middle school, asks her, “Have they ever loved each other?”
Their parents are downstairs fighting, and they’re sitting in Nancy’s room, trying to keep Holly entertained until they’re done.
Nancy seems a little… shocked, by his question, and she goes quiet for awhile.
Holly sloppily colors a sunflower in with a purple crayon. Two year olds aren’t exactly brimming with dexterity.
Nancy answers him eventually. “I’m trying to think, but… Beyond having kids together, I don’t… I don’t know, Mike. I don’t have an answer for you.”
“I wish they’d just… get divorced.” He frowns and picks at the paper on the crayon in his own hand.
“Mom told me she feels like she’s stuck with him,” Nancy admits as she runs her fingers over Holly’s hair. “We’re stuck here with them, though. When’s the last time Dad even did anything with you? Or me, even? It’s like — I hit puberty, and suddenly I’m Mom’s problem.”
Mike genuinely can’t remember the last time he spent any quality time with his father.
*
Nancy spends most of her time with Jonathan, enough to where she’s hardly even home anymore, meaning Mike can’t just go up to her room to talk when he notices that his mom quit wearing her wedding band and that she sometimes stays out a little too late with her ‘friends.’
Mike isn’t surprised to find himself in Will’s bedroom, confiding in him while they listen to music. Mike tries to act as grown up as he possibly can, but he feels like a frightened child when his chin wobbles a little bit and he’s quietly saying, “I think my mom’s cheating on my dad.”
Will looks sympathetic and Mike doesn’t brush him off when his friend gives him a hug. Will squeezes him tight, because he’s the kind of person who gives tight hugs, before either of them are settling down on the floor. Mike’s wrapped up in the blanket from Will’s bed and Will’s sitting on the floor in front of his record player, across from Mike, when he asks, “Do you wanna talk about it?”
Mike doesn’t know what there even is to say, but the words still come tumbling out, and he ends up explaining to Will that, ultimately, he’s just scared of change.
“You know, Mike… When my dad left, I thought it was the end of the world. And I’m not gonna lie — obviously things have been hard, but both of my parents are happier apart and things have been nicer with him gone, y’know? If your parents do decide to split up… It won’t be the end of the world. Maybe things will be hard for awhile and maybe it’ll be weird at first, but you’ll get used to it. Change isn’t always bad.”
And, yeah, there’s a fucking reason his Dungeons and Dragons character is named Will The Wise.
Mike ends up spending the night.
*
It’s almost like fucking clockwork, he thinks, that about a month after his chat with Will, on a weekend that Nancy isn’t busy, their parents sit the two of them down for a talk.
Their mom looks guilty. Their dad looks disinterested and resigned at best.
As his mom speaks, explaining that she’s going to be filing for divorce soon and that Dad’s going to be moving to Indianapolis, he tries to keep what Will had said to him fresh in his mind. It won’t be the end of the world. It’ll be weird at first, but you’ll get used to it. Change isn’t always bad.
His mom says, “We will both love you the same. That won’t change.”
Later, when Nancy takes him out to a Burger King so they can eat their feelings and vent about their parents, she says, “I hate how she says ‘we will love you the same.’” She’s fucking pissed. “I’ve hardly fucking spoken to Dad in two years, at least not outside of, like, dinner, or him asking me to clean my fucking room. ‘We will love you the same.’ Shove it up your fucking ass, Karen.” She sniffles a little bit, too, and takes a pretty large sip from her milkshake.
“You know what’s funny?” Mike asks, as he reaches across their table to take a french fry from her. “Sometimes, I feel like Steve and Jonathan are better dads to me than he is. Like… Steve and Jonathan are the ones who drive me places when I ask, and they’re always, like, open to talking to me about boy problems. I seriously can’t remember the last time I spent an afternoon with Dad because he wanted to, and not because I asked, or because Mom forced him into spending time with me.”
“They at least care. That’s — that’s probably an unfair accusation, but Jesus. Dad fucking sucks. Mom too, sometimes.”
“She’s been cheating on him, I think.” Mike still hasn’t had a chance to talk to her about that. “I don’t know for how long, but she quit wearing her wedding bands and she — she stays out too late. I don’t even know if I want to blame her, because… Dad doesn’t love her. All he does is go to work, come home, have passive aggressive talks with all of us over dinner, before passing out in his chair or on the couch, or whatever, then repeat. That’s all he fucking does.”
“She’s been cheating on him for awhile, I think,” Nancy admits. “I caught her without her wedding bands on a few times and, like… I’ve heard her coming home late before. I can’t blame her. I think — I think if I were married to someone I didn’t love, then I’d be driven to do that. Like… If I hadn’t have broken things off with Steve—” She does a little gesture. “I kind of get it.”
Mike takes a fairly large bite out of his hamburger, wiping his mouth off with a napkin after he’s chewed and swallowed. “I hope we don’t end up having to move, or something.”
Nancy shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen. Mom’s probably gonna find some other, older, well to do guy, and even if we do move, it’ll probably be somewhere nicer, y’know? And even if she doesn’t — she worked in real estate for years. I can’t imagine her losing that house.” Nancy rolls her eyes, too.
Mike’s angry and upset and sad but above all of that, he’s just tired. “Maybe it won’t be too bad. Who knows.”
*
Mike’s always had a rocky relationship with Max. They’re loyal to each other in the way that if he were dangling off of a cliff, he’d trust her to haul him up, and vice versa, but they don’t hang out without a third or fourth party very often. He knows that her parents divorced and that her mom remarried, so she seems like another obvious person to go to for some insight. (Not that Will isn’t perfectly helpful, but Will’s busy and Max isn’t.)
The first time he asks her about it, she says, “Mike, I was, like, nine when they divorced. I don’t really remember it.”
The second time he tries talking to her about it, rather than asking a bunch of questions, she says, “Your parents are better off divorced. I mean — me and my brother are both products of loveless marriages, and you — you don’t want your parents ending up like mine, or his, alright? Maybe it’ll be weird when or if they remarry, but trust me — seeing them happy and not miserable will totally be worth it. Anyways, c’mon. Isn’t your mom driving us to the arcade? Maybe I’ll let you kick my ass at Dig-Dug.”
Max’s brand of comfort and sympathy is a little gruff and awkward but she doesn’t coddle him or try showering him in sympathy and kind words and he’s appreciative of it.
*
Mike isn’t stupid but it takes him longer than he thinks it should to realize what’s going on.
At first — he doesn’t really think to question it.
Steve hangs around more than he should, so when Billy starts hanging around more than he should, although weird, he doesn’t really think anything of it.
The difference is, though, that Steve tends to hang out in the basement. He says he’s there to babysit, but he mostly just lies on the couch with headphones on listening to music and sleeping or reading, or he’s arguing with Dustin over something or other.
Billy isn’t there all the time, but there’s a few times that Mike ventures upstairs for water or for snacks or for something and he sees him talking to his mom. Mike’s always a little afraid that Billy’s going to bare his teeth and snap and pick a fight or something, but mostly he just casts him a glance, as if he were an afterthought, before looking back to his mom and continuing to talk in low tones that he can’t quite hear. There’s one time that he holds up a few fingers, in a sort of wave and Mike’s so shocked by it that he waves back.
At first, he thinks that whatever conversations they have are kind of like the ones that his mom has with Nancy — conversations meant for her to get things off of her chest and for Nancy to nod along and offer a hug or simplistic teen advice, or maybe Billy’s the one going to her for advice over a girl, or something, or maybe they’re friends, because he has to figure that if Steve Harrington somehow managed to worm his way into The Party, then maybe it’s not entirely unrealistic for Billy Hargrove to somehow befriend his mom.
*
It’s after the first of the year that things start making a little more sense. The Divorce, with a capital ‘d,’ has been over and done with for nearly three months at this point, and he’s only seen his dad twice — on Thanksgiving and Christmas — since then. His mom seems happier, lighter on her feet, floating through the house in the mornings before work like she’s on cloud nine. He knows that there’s something going on, but he can’t quite put his finger on it, and he doesn’t know how to bring it up, or how to ask her about it.
The first time he starts to suspect anything is when he’s waiting for Steve to swing by with Dustin and Lucas and maybe Max or Will to bring him to school, since there’s too much snow on the ground for anyone to even think about biking. Steve usually has the courtesy to get out of his car and ring the doorbell, and he’s not fucking loud.
Except — there’s a morning that he’s sick, like, can barely get out of bed sick, and Mike feels his heart dropping into his ass when he hears an engine that revs a little too loud and one loud, sort of long honk coming from the front of the house. A peek out of the living room window tells him that Billy’s there in his stupid fucking Camaro. Max is in the passenger’s seat, not looking towards the house, but out of the front window, and Mike’s pretty sure that, for some goddamn reason, Billy’s supposed to be his ride to school.
He asks, “Did Steve call you, or something?” as he’s tumbling into the backseat, all long limbs and no coordination.
Billy gets a weird look on his face, and just says, “Or something, yeah,” before peeling away from the house and lighting a cigarette.
That raises a few red flags but it’s too early to be trying to get Billy Hargrove to talk to him, so he doesn’t press it.
*
It clicks in Mike’s head on a weekend early in February.
He’s walking into his house, and Dustin goes ahead of him, speeding to the basement and muttering something about freezing his nads off, and Mike — he has the intention of going into the kitchen to make himself a mug of hot chocolate (and maybe one for Dustin) but he stops before he has the chance to get through the archway. There’s a ladder on the floor, a dead light bulb on the counter, and Mike feels like he’s intruding when he sees the way his mom is smiling at Billy. He’s never quite seen her smile like that, and when Billy reaches up to brush her hair out of her face and to cup her cheek, it clicks.
He’s too embarrassed to make himself (or Dustin) a mug of hot chocolate.
*
He tells Nancy about it the first chance he gets.
She’s in the middle of sipping soda out of a cup from a burger joint, and when Mike blurts out, “I think Mom’s sleeping with Billy,” she snorts soda through her nose.
She cusses under her breath and Mike hands her a few napkins from the stack she keeps in the glove box of her car. She wipes her face off, and once the napkins are crumpled up and tossed into the bag from the burger joint, she asks, “What in the world makes you think Mom’s sleeping with Billy?”
“He’s always at the damn house, talking to her, and she, like… smiles at him. Gives him this look. It’s — it’s that look you give Jonathan. She’s always looking at him like that. It’s weird.”
“She cannot be — Billy?!” Nancy looks about as horrified as Mike feels.
“I’m serious. I was going to go make hot chocolate for me and Dustin because it was cold, but they were… in the kitchen. And he, like, touched her face. I think he was changing one of the light bulbs or something, but he touched her face and she was looking at him like…” Mike makes a face, looking at something out of the window, trying his best to look star struck, batting his eyelashes while he’s at it. “Like that. It was fucking weird.”
“… Ew.” Nancy’s lip curls. “Have you tried asking her about it?”
“No. God, no. I wasn’t — I don’t think I was supposed to see them. How would I even ask? ‘Hi, Mom, how was work? Are you fucking Billy Hargrove? Is he going to be my new step dad?’”
Nancy laughs something bordering on exasperated. “I really, really hope you’re wrong, because… ew. I’m going to run out of ways to say ew.”
*
Part III
*
It takes Nancy longer than it takes Holly, or even Mike, to warm up to the idea of her mother dating or seeing or whatever she wants to call it — it takes her a long time to warm up to the idea of her mother and Billy being a thing. Nancy confronts her about it after Mike tells her about the Kitchen Incident, and she wasn’t planning on being angry about it, she really wasn’t, but the conversation ends in a shouting match and things are awkward for the few months between that talk and Nancy moving out, and driving to New York with Jonathan for college.
A long time ends up being two months shy of two years.
Holidays are always weird.
Billy has been present for the past two Christmases, and this year — the third Christmas he’s supposed to be around — Mike picks her up from the airport, since he’s just got his license and Nancy figures Karen told him to pick her up just to give him some sense of responsibility. Mike waits until they’ve been on the highway for about fifteen minutes before saying, “Can you, like, try to be nice to Mom this year? I know — I know you don’t like that she’s with Billy, but they love each other, and she’s happy, Nancy. I haven’t seen her this happy before, and isn’t — isn’t that what we’ve always wanted? For her and Dad to both be happy?”
“I’m allowed to not like that she’s fucking a guy that’s younger than me.”
“He’s younger than you by two months,” Mike points out. “And yeah, it’s fucking weird, but you’re not trying, and I’m not — I’m not a saint, but honestly? You’re being a bitch.” He’s mad.
Nancy has to bite her cheek, hard enough that she draws blood, to keep from picking a fight. Mike frowns for the rest of the drive.
*
Nancy isn’t a saint either.
Dinner is quiet, outside of Holly asking everyone, including Billy, questions, and the answers that she gets.
Nancy keeps her tone sharp and her answers short and passive aggressive every time her mom asks her a question, and she knows it’s bad, but she kind of likes the hurt look she gets on her face. It’s after dinner, when Nancy’s on the back porch having a smoke, that Billy steps out of the house with a cigarette dangling from his own lips and a Bic lighter in his hand.
Her hand itches with the urge to slap him across the cheek when he says, “You need to drop the fucking attitude,” before he lights his cigarette.
He stops her when she goes to snap at him.
“No, you listen to me. You don’t have to like me. We don’t have to be friends. Frankly, I couldn’t give less of a shit about what you think of me. But, for the sake of your mother, can you please drop the fucking attitude?” He flicks ashes into the snow. “I totally get thinking that what I have with her is weird, and I know you think I’m just doing this to fuck with you, or her, or whatever, but that’s not it at all. I love her, and — and honestly, man, she’s brought, like, a lot of peace into my life. Just — on a human to human level,” he gestures between himself and Nancy, “can you please try to be nicer to her? The way you’ve been treating her the past couple of years — to put it simply, it’s fucking shitty, and hurting her feelings instead of, say, trying to talk to her like a fuckin’ adult…? It’s childish, and I know you’re better than that. Shit — I’m better than that, and I’m a piece of fucking shit, Nancy.”
“You could have any girl in this fucking town, and you date my mom. Are you expecting me to just roll over and accept that?"
"Absolutely not." He shakes his head, takes a drag from his cigarette, and flicks the ash from the tip again. “I’m not trying to tell you how you should feel. I wasn’t happy when my mom left my dad, and I was even less happy when he remarried, but you cannot spend forever being angry with her. To be fair, my relationship with my dad — it’s a fuck of a lot different than your relationship with your mom. Your mom loves you, and I don’t think this — what I have with her — is reason enough for you to destroy your relationship with her. I don’t have a relationship with either of my parents, and I would give anything — I would give anything in the fucking world to have a relationship with either of my parents like you have with your mom.”
Billy is — different than Nancy remembers him being. He doesn’t even seem like the same person that beat the snot out of Steve, and, shit — she’s talked to Steve. She knows they’re on mostly good terms now. And this — what he’s just told her — it all seems uncharacteristically mature of him.
She knows he’s right.
She finishes her cigarette, and stands out there long enough for him to be flicking the butt of his own cigarette off of the porch, before she thinks of anything to say. “I’m not calling you ‘dad.’”
He doesn’t say anything to that, but he does snort and roll his eyes a little bit before slipping back inside.