There was no note. A
mom
wouldn't lie about that. She had no reason to. Doug thought this on a loop for five minutes until he finally moved on to: but what if she's lying?
In what circumstance would Charlie's mom conceal the fact that there was a note. When the note had an embarrassing message, he thought.
He was at the cafe now. Chewing on
zucchini bread
and staring into the street where people were walking dogs and laughing.
That thought took him on a dark path. What would a chode like Charlie write in his note. If he had taken the blame for coping out like he did then that would be somewhat noble. The note that is. But what if he blamed others. In the case of her son naming names, maybe the mom would prefer a no-note narrative.
The dark train of thought continued. Doug wondered whether he himself had been named. He remembered how persistently those calls came. Maybe Charlie had blamed Doug for something. Doug looped this though, bouncing his knee for another minute before telling himself, "now I'm being self absorbed. What the hell would he blame me for? We never talked after I left EPG."
The thought never left his brain. He had chewed through the bread and picked up the crumbs using his fingers and there he still wondered. What if there was a note. And on that note was his own name. Doug. What the hell could he have done wrong in the past to be named!?
There was that one time they were out to Calhoun's Saloon at that end of the summer party. Everybody in the office knew Charlie was crushing on Jen Butters. Seemed like she might even give it a chance. But that evening Doug had gotten extremely drunk and went on a rant about something. Something that strangely attracted Jen Butters. Doug being drunk couldn't help him. They didn't discretely announce that they were leaving together. But everybody knew something was going to happen eventually, if not maybe that night.
That night he buttered Jen Butters with his lager tainted semen.
