I set my bag down on the bar and run down the hallway, past the bathrooms, and check the locks on the back door, untwisting and re-twisting, yanking the handle to make sure it doesn’t give, and then I jog back up front and check the front door again and the windows.
Taking my phone from my bag, I sit on a bar stool, clutching it in my fist. Who do I call?
Jay’s probably telling the truth. Cole is drunk again. Why would he do this? He knew I was counting on him to be here. I’m positive he doesn’t know Jay was the one who came instead, but still… I could fucking kill him.
I swallow down the sickness rising up my throat.
I call my sister, but as suspected, it goes to voicemail. She’s probably just getting out of work or home asleep already.
My dad? Stepmom?
They haven’t even called since I called them a week ago. They can’t do anything without acting like it’s a huge imposition. Asking them for anything is owing them. It’s a burden.
I’m a burden.
Pike crosses my mind. I have no doubt he’d come.
But it would just piss Cole off if his father found out he dropped the ball tonight, and I don’t want Pike to know, either. It’s embarrassing. We’re adults, and we’ve made our beds. He’s taking care of me enough, and I’m not waking him up when he has work in the morning. It makes me a burden.
The only other person I could call is Shel, and her home is on the other side of town.
I don’t want to call Cole, because, of course, he can’t drive, but maybe he could send another friend.
But no. I’m not calling him. I’m too pissed right now.
And this town doesn’t have cabs, either.
I eye the pool table, the overflowing ash trays sitting on the edges, and the scratch marks all over the filthy felt.
Well, fuck. It’ll be light out in a few hours. I can walk home then. Time to suck it up. I’m not asking anyone for shit.
Hopping off the stool, I make my way behind the bar again and dig out two stacks of clean white bar towels and carry them to the pool table, one by one fanning them out and covering the dirty surface.
I kicked off the air conditioner hours ago, so it’s a comfy seventy-five by now, but I pull out my hoodie from my bag in case I want to cover up later. Grabbing my phone, I leave the hallway light on and climb on the table, scooting down enough, so I have room to lie down. Tucking my arm under my head, I yawn and check the volume and battery on my phone, making sure I have enough power to last in case something goes wrong while I’m alone here all night.
Like Jay coming back.
I find my app that makes a box fan sound and play it in hopes I can get a little sleep, but I’m not hopeful. I don’t feel secure, so I can’t relax.
Closing my eyes, I feel the weight of fatigue on my lids, and the pleasant feel of exhaustion. It’s the kind you know you deserve, because you worked your ass off that day.
But after twenty minutes, my mind is still racing. My body is done for the day but not my brain.
When my cell rings, I’m pretty sure it’s a sign I’m not meant to sleep tonight.
I bring it up to my eyes, squinting at the bright light.
Pike.
I knit my brow. “Hello?” I hold it to my ear, yawning again.
“Hey,” he says as if he didn’t expect to reach me. “I…a….I just saw it was after three, and no one’s home, so I just wanted to check in. Make sure everything’s okay.”
I turn on my side, still using my bottom arm as a pillow, and hold the phone to my ear with the other hand.
“I’m fine.” I smile at his concern and joke, “Do I have a curfew or something?”
“No,” he replies, and I can hear the humor in his voice. “You guys stay out and have fun. Do your thing. I just…” He pauses for a long moment and then continues, “You know, you don’t worry about things you’re not aware of. When Cole didn’t live with me, I didn’t always know where he was or what he was up to, so I didn’t think about it all the time. You two living under my roof now, I seem to be worrying constantly.” He breathes out a laugh. “That bar is shady. I just wanted to make sure you got out of work safely and everything’s cool. I’m just…checking in.”
I don’t take offense to his remark. It’s not my bar, after all, and yes, it is a dump.
I’m tempted to see if he wants to come and get me after all, since he’s awake, but my pride won’t let me. I don’t want to be a problem. And I definitely don’t want to be responsible for making waves between him and Cole. I can fight my own battles.
“Yeah. Everything’s cool,” I lie, adding some tease to my voice. “I’m not a kid, you know?”
“You kind of are.”
I snort. Well, kid or not, I guess it’s nice to have someone looking out for me.
“Did you call Cole, too?” I ask.
But he doesn’t answer. Instead I hear a loud slam and some shuffling. “Shit,” he barks.
My eyes open wide, alert. “What’s the matter?”
“The damn microwave doesn’t work right,” he growls. “I knew I shouldn’t have replaced it just to match the other new appliances, dammit. It won’t pop popcorn.”
I narrow my eyes, but I want to laugh so badly. He gets so worked up. “There’s a Popcorn button,” I remind him.
“I pushed it!”
“Twice?”
“Why would I have to push it twice?” he retorts like I’m stupid.
“Because the size of the bags you use take three-point-five minutes of cooking,” I point out.
“I know that.”
“Well, on your new microwave, pushing it down once only gives it two minutes of cooking. For the smaller bags,” I clarify. “You need to push it down twice to get the right time.”
There’s silence and then I hear a mumbled, “Oh.”
I press my lips together to keep from laughing. His random helplessness is pretty amusing. I wish I was there.
“Well,” he says after a short silence, “I guess I’ll let you go then.”
“Hey, wait,” I say, stopping him.
I pause, unsure of how to word this.
“Do you mind if I ask you something?” I finally say.
“No, I guess not.”
I wet my lips, hesitating. I don’t want to offend him, but I’m curious.
“Where’s all your stuff in the house?” I ask.
“Huh?”
I inhale a deep breath, forging on. “There’s furniture but not much else. It doesn’t look like you live there. Why?”
The other end of the phone is silent, and I stop breathing, afraid I’ll miss him speak.
Was the question insulting? I didn’t mean it to be. I just realized he knows so much about me, and I hardly know anything about him. He knows who my parents are, what happened to Cole’s and my friend, that I love 80s stuff, I grew up without a mom, what I study in college…
But he’s still such a mystery.
“I’m sorry if that sounded bad,” I tell him when he doesn’t answer. “It’s a beautiful home. It’s just that Cole mentioned that you and his mom met in high school where you were kind of a baseball star. You must love the sport. I’m just curious why I don’t see trophies or pictures or anything like that in the house. There’s no recent photos of you and Cole, either, no music, no books… Nothing that describes you or what you like.”
He draws in a breath, clearing his throat, and a cool sweat travels up my neck.
“It’s all packed in the basement,” he tells me. “I guess I just never dug it out after I moved into the house.”
“How long have you been in that house?”
“Uh….” He trails off as if thinking. “I guess I bought it ten years ago.”
Ten years?
“Pike…” I say, trying not to snicker.
He breathes out a laugh in my ear, and I smile, shaking my head.
“Guess it sounds weird, huh?” he asks.
That you still haven’t unpacked everything? Yeah.
I flip onto my back, keeping my arm tucked under my head. “I understand we do away with certain things as we get older,” I tell him. “But you’ve had a life since you moved into that place, haven’t you? I don’t see anything of your personality. Places you’ve visited, trinkets you’ve picked up over the years…”
“Yeah, I know, I uh…”
He hesitates again, letting out a sigh, and the sound of his breath vibrates across my ear, sending tingles down my spine.
I wish I could see his face. It’s so hard to read him over the phone. All I can picture is the way he drops his eyes sometimes, like he doesn’t want someone to know what he’s feeling, or the way he nods like maybe he’s afraid of what he’ll say if he speaks.
He finally continues. “Cole became more important,” he admits. “Somewhere along the way, who I was and what I wanted became irrelevant.”
I kind of understand. When you have kids, your hopes transfer to them. Your life takes a backseat to what they need. I get it.
But Cole is an adult now, and Pike has been on his own for a while. What does he do when he’s not at work?
“I’d love to see some of the stuff,” I broach. “If you ever want to unpack it, I’ll help.”
“Nah, that’s okay.”
I knit my brow at how quickly he shoots me down.
“You mean I can’t even see old yearbooks and if you and Cole were twinsies at the same age?” I tease.
He lets out a quiet chuckle. “God, no. Back when the only important thing I had to do was my hair?”
I grin, but of course, he can’t see it. Was he a one-girl kind of guy back in high school, or did he have lots like Cole did before me?
I remember what Cole said about his father cheating on his mom, but for some reason it doesn’t ring true.
“The truth is, Jordan,” he says, “when you’re young, you can be really stupid. I don’t care to remember that time in my life. I want to move on.”