That’s it. And in return, think of the weight off your shoulders. Do right Tuesday night, come Wednesday morning, your worries are over.”
“And we’ll be square? Clean?”
“Absolutely, brother.” Bennett smiled. “You got my word.”
CHAPTER 6
C OMING OFF A DOUBLE, bone freaking tired, the first thing Alex noticed when he came home was that the light on his answering machine was blinking again.
Not much sleep the last couple nights, and that filled with dreams of Cassie handing him stacks of hundred-dollar bills, of strange dark rivers and the sound of waterfalls, of flying that turned to falling. All he wanted was a big vodka, a shower if he could summon the will, and bed, where if he was lucky the pillows might still smell like Jenn.
He walked to the machine, almost hit Play, picked up the phone instead. Pressed the Caller ID button, then the back arrow.
Trish.
Alex stomped into the kitchen. Glass, ice, vodka. He took a long sip, felt the muscles in his back unclench. Took another, then refilled the glass, tucked the bottle back next to the frozen pizzas.
Over the past few days, she’d left a couple of messages. He’d checked them just to make sure Cassie hadn’t been hurt, but hadn’t otherwise responded. They’d all been terse little things, and the tone had scared him.
The streetlight outside his front window brought a globe of tree limbs into brilliant relief, the leaves bright green near the light, then fading to brown and gray and finally black as they moved outside the circle. He had this theory that life was kind of like that. A circle of now that could be seen clearly, and then a past and future fading out, growing disconnected. When he thought back to earlier versions of himself, he could remember things, moments, some of them crystal clear. Birthdays in the backyard. Shooting hoops in his driveway, the smell of tangled forsythia bushes that backed the hoop, the warmth of the sun, the clean ease of stretching for a rebound. But it felt so far away that it wasn’t even just like it hadn’t happened to him, it was like it had happened to someone that a friend had told him about. Two degrees removed.
The foursome was a perfect example. He, Jenn, Ian, and Mitch had started as a lark, a random evening that had been a surprising amount of fun. That evening led to another, and another. And after a while, he’d realized that the friends you saw every week were your best friends, and that the people you were in the habit of considering your best friends actually belonged to a past life.
We’re all living in our own globe of light. Seeing just so far and thinking that’s all there is. The vodka shivered through his chest. He took another gulp and pressed Play.
“Alex, it’s me.” A pause. “Are you there? Pick up.” A sigh. “I know you’re dodging my calls . . .” Her voice was more trickling out than sounding pissed, and that hit him, put him in mind of old conversations, late at night, her head on the pillow next to his. There had been times when they made sense, the two of them.
“OK.” Her voice firmer, her get-things-done tone. “I have something to tell you. I was going to when you picked Cassie up, but she interrupted . . .” She paused again. “Damn it, Alex, why are you making me do it this way? Can’t we be grown-ups for once?”
Standing in the dark of the apartment he lived in alone, Alex felt something tangle sticky fingers in his stomach. He leaned over the desk, head right above the answering machine, like he could talk to her through it, convince her not to say whatever she was about to.
“If this is the way we have to do it, fine. Scott got offered a job. It’s a big promotion, he’ll be leading his team, and . . . well. It’s in Phoenix.”
The spectral fingers clenched tighter.
“He’s going to take it. It’s too good an opportunity. We’re still working out the details, but it looks like we’ll be moving there.” She cleared her throat.
“And we’ll be square? Clean?”
“Absolutely, brother.” Bennett smiled. “You got my word.”
CHAPTER 6
C OMING OFF A DOUBLE, bone freaking tired, the first thing Alex noticed when he came home was that the light on his answering machine was blinking again.
Not much sleep the last couple nights, and that filled with dreams of Cassie handing him stacks of hundred-dollar bills, of strange dark rivers and the sound of waterfalls, of flying that turned to falling. All he wanted was a big vodka, a shower if he could summon the will, and bed, where if he was lucky the pillows might still smell like Jenn.
He walked to the machine, almost hit Play, picked up the phone instead. Pressed the Caller ID button, then the back arrow.
Trish.
Alex stomped into the kitchen. Glass, ice, vodka. He took a long sip, felt the muscles in his back unclench. Took another, then refilled the glass, tucked the bottle back next to the frozen pizzas.
Over the past few days, she’d left a couple of messages. He’d checked them just to make sure Cassie hadn’t been hurt, but hadn’t otherwise responded. They’d all been terse little things, and the tone had scared him.
The streetlight outside his front window brought a globe of tree limbs into brilliant relief, the leaves bright green near the light, then fading to brown and gray and finally black as they moved outside the circle. He had this theory that life was kind of like that. A circle of now that could be seen clearly, and then a past and future fading out, growing disconnected. When he thought back to earlier versions of himself, he could remember things, moments, some of them crystal clear. Birthdays in the backyard. Shooting hoops in his driveway, the smell of tangled forsythia bushes that backed the hoop, the warmth of the sun, the clean ease of stretching for a rebound. But it felt so far away that it wasn’t even just like it hadn’t happened to him, it was like it had happened to someone that a friend had told him about. Two degrees removed.
The foursome was a perfect example. He, Jenn, Ian, and Mitch had started as a lark, a random evening that had been a surprising amount of fun. That evening led to another, and another. And after a while, he’d realized that the friends you saw every week were your best friends, and that the people you were in the habit of considering your best friends actually belonged to a past life.
We’re all living in our own globe of light. Seeing just so far and thinking that’s all there is. The vodka shivered through his chest. He took another gulp and pressed Play.
“Alex, it’s me.” A pause. “Are you there? Pick up.” A sigh. “I know you’re dodging my calls . . .” Her voice was more trickling out than sounding pissed, and that hit him, put him in mind of old conversations, late at night, her head on the pillow next to his. There had been times when they made sense, the two of them.
“OK.” Her voice firmer, her get-things-done tone. “I have something to tell you. I was going to when you picked Cassie up, but she interrupted . . .” She paused again. “Damn it, Alex, why are you making me do it this way? Can’t we be grown-ups for once?”
Standing in the dark of the apartment he lived in alone, Alex felt something tangle sticky fingers in his stomach. He leaned over the desk, head right above the answering machine, like he could talk to her through it, convince her not to say whatever she was about to.
“If this is the way we have to do it, fine. Scott got offered a job. It’s a big promotion, he’ll be leading his team, and . . . well. It’s in Phoenix.”
The spectral fingers clenched tighter.
“He’s going to take it. It’s too good an opportunity. We’re still working out the details, but it looks like we’ll be moving there.” She cleared her throat.
Similar Books
