“Well, it’s a sight more helpful than getting defensive. I thought I taught you better manners than that. You haven’t even thanked me for calling to warn you. Besides, there’s nothing to be done about it, so you might as well accept it. I’ll see you Sunday. And make sure you wear something nice. Not those black rags you usually have on. Your sister hasn’t seen you in months.”

“Thanks for the call, Dad,” Zack gushed with fake enthusiasm. “See you Sunday!” He stabbed the End Call button and then pulled Ziggy into his lap. He scratched him vigorously behind the ears until his frustration had ebbed and his dog was a happy puddle.

Zack sighed and let his head fall back onto the couch. “I know young men are supposed to have issues with their fathers, but this is getting ridiculous.”

Ziggy growled.

“I agree.”

Zack watched a few hours of mindless TV, wolfed down some leftovers, and took Ziggy out before heading to bed. His room was as Spartan as the rest of the apartment: his nightstand and small dresser didn’t match, and his bed—it was a queen, at least—didn’t have a headboard. He had sprung for some nice sheets, though. They were a silky red color that injected a bit of life into the beige walls and faded carpet. Zack kept framed pictures of his loved ones on every available surface. His sister and her long-term boyfriend beamed at him from the top of his battered dresser. Mom and Dad smiled from the windowsill.

“So looking forward to seeing you, sis,” Zack said to the photo, his tone laden with sarcasm. “Or at least I would be if our parents would give me the chance.”

His laptop was lying on top of his duvet like always, but he moved it to the nightstand without turning it on. He wasn’t in the mood for the internet right now.

Zack changed into a pair of cotton pajama bottoms and then climbed into bed, patting the blankets until Ziggy jumped up after him. He plugged in his phone, clicked out the overhead light, and settled on his back. Tomorrow was Friday, but that meant a late night for a PSO. Weekends were their busiest time. Everyone was looking for something (or someone) to do. Maybe he’d get an interesting new client or a strange request he could gossip about with Alexa.

He knew who he was really hoping to get a call from, however. His thoughts drifted to John for the umpteenth time.

“Why can’t I stop thinking about him?” he asked his darkened room.

Ziggy whined but otherwise failed to offer any enlightenment. Zack rolled onto his side and forced himself to think about nothing until he fell into a fitful sleep.

He woke up early the next day, much earlier than was necessary considering his shift started at noon. He felt no more refreshed than he had the night before. He took his time making a pot of strong coffee and a couple of eggs. He didn’t usually cook, more out of laziness than a lack of skill, but he wanted to keep himself busy so he wouldn’t think about how badly he didn’t want to go to work. If he thought about it, he’d call out, and Colette would have kittens.