Page 71 of The New Place

And it’s fine. Ned will add it to the list of what little he knows about Abbot at the end of the day. Did he buy that place with Louis, and who exactly was that guy he was with during college, and who else has been in his life but gone unmentioned? A jigsaw puzzle, Ned’s always fondly thought of him as, but it suddenly feels like he’s never seen the picture on the box and is now finding out half the pieces are missing.

How much money does Abbot have? Ned knows how much Abbot makes, roughly. And he doesn’t have a kid to pay for, which Ned has always assumed is the difference between them. That and he wasn’t saddled with dragging his finances through a divorce. All of which explains the gulf between the cars they drive, the suits Abbot wears, and how he doesn’t look at the price on the menu or at the grocery store, so easily sliding his credit card out to pay for things. No student loans either, Ned has pieced together, though he’s assumed that was scholarships and any university tripping over itself to have Abbot as a student, or just the fact of going to school in Europe instead of the debt-ridden hellscape of higher education in the US.

But it’s more than that, clearly. Ned eyes him. Didn’t he just go skiing while he was in Switzerland? Abbot mentioned wanting a weekend away to do the same here. Ned’s been skiing maybe twice, and was never one of those kids with lift tickets hanging from his coat zippers, the sport way too expensive for his parents to consider. And Abbot flies to Europe a couple times a year. First class? Ned suddenly wonders, because this entire time he’s imagined Abbot in the back of the plane, landing with aching knees from his too-long legs.

Abbot turns, looking out his window, and Ned readjusts his hold on the wheel. This is uncomfortable, suddenly. Such a far cry from the amusement that meeting was supposed to be, the softness of the morning, coffee and tea and Abbot sharing the newspaper with Mom.

“I think we’re coming at this from really different spots,” Ned says slowly. Yes, that’s a good enough way to put it, so Ned doesn’t have to point out that his spot is below a mountain of bills he needs to pay, and Abbot’s spot is yet another aspect of his life Ned knows nothing about. Ned doesn’t have to give voice to the frustration that causes, welling up through him now in a way he’s not entirely sure he can staunch if they have to keep talking about this.

“But that doesn’t matter, if we buy something together.”

“It does to me,” Ned says.

“Why?”

“Why?” Ned echoes. Because of what he owes. Because he can’t buy a place, and he can’t move. Because—because. “Look, can you at least fill me in a bit on your side of things?”

“No.”

“What?” There it is, a burn of exasperation Ned tries and fails to push aside. “No? Just like that?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

Ned forces himself to take a breath. “Okay, look, the specifics, that’s fine if you don’t want to share, but maybe the big picture?”

Abbot sits silently, rubbing his fingertips together. It takes him another two blocks to say, “I told you. I paid off my house.”

“Sure, but what does that mean? Abbot, what are we even doing right now? You want to talk about buying a place without talking about⁠—”

“You seem to not want to talk about it, actually.”

“No, I don’t, but you’re—oh.” Ned blinks. Yeah, there it is, what he was missing this whole time in everything Abbot hasn’t said. “Your mom?”

“I think you wanted to take that turn.”

“That’s where the money’s from?” Ned asks. Abbot paid off his house a couple years ago…a life insurance payout, maybe, or something she left to him. There are layers. The fact that Abbot’s father clearly didn’t need the money, if it was an inheritance he passed on, but Charles Henry Abbot doesn’t strike Ned as a guy who needs to be concerned about his bank balance. If Abbot’s mom left him enough that even split with Liesl, it was plenty to pay off Abbot’s house, and leave more on top of that, and…

Ned touches Abbot’s thigh. The muscle is hard, and the corner of Abbot’s jaw jumps, a twitch beneath his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Let me in, he thinks.

“It’s fine.” Abbot’s as cold as he ever is in these moments, when conversation brushes up against his mother.

Ned didn’t mean to stumble into the subject, and not now of all times, but trust that he managed to find and press into a sharp bruise. Though it’d be easier to avoid if Ned had some damn information to round out the rest of the picture.

“So I can pay for a house,” Abbot says briskly, as if the conversation hasn’t veered toward his mom.

“Hey.” Ned touches the back of his finger to that muscle in Abbot’s cheek. “Do you want to talk about it?” No is always the answer, but he asks all the same, like he always does.

Like always, Abbot brushes Ned off. “For both of us,” Abbot says.

Right. Yep. What he should have expected.

Ned draws his hand back. What the hell is he doing wrong that every time he opens up space for Abbot to share with him, this is what he gets?

It’s not worth pushing, not right now. He feels crappy enough without Abbot pushing him even farther away. “That’s your mom’s money, and it’s yours,” Ned says.