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“Me too, Hayles. Me too.”
Chapter Eleven
Elijah
The rest of the weekend went well after the hangover wore off Saturday afternoon. My father and grandfather returned from their round of nine about noon. My father tossed me my tennis shoes and tennis racket at about one. He said there was nothing like a good sweat to get the body working again.
I think he just wanted to beat me for once. Even with my head pounding, I got up, tossed a ball cap on, and met him for what I thought was going to be a leisurely game. After a couple of cross-corner shots, I knew he was going to test me. I sucked down two large containers of water in the sixty minutes we played. Dad was right. I did feel better and I let him win.
I drove back to the club alone on Saturday night. I was hoping to run into Viper for another dance. I waited until the witching hour. She didn’t materialize. When I got back home, I didn’t end up sleeping much. After giving up trying to force it around six thirty, I put on a T-shirt, my glasses, and decided to surprise everyone with a big breakfast.
My family starts filing in one by one by seven. The bacon is the first thing to go. It always is. I could see pride in Gran’s eyes when I handed her her special mug filled with her vanilla-flavored coffee. Had I beenthatdead to everyone? I’d always felt like it on the inside, but I thought I’d hid it well. Apparently not.
Hayley and I spend the rest of Sunday by the pool reading, napping, and talking. Even after our end of summer cookout for dinner, we walk the shore, and I make her a makeshift bonfire ring. She brings a bottle of rosé while we listen to the waves roll up and talk more as the stars come out.
She tells me how excited and terrified she is for the coming school year. She wants to be done with it and working already. If I’d asked her a year ago, the answer would have been very different. She didn’t want anything to do with the family business. She wanted to venture on her own.
It was always a choice. Mom, Dad, Gran, and Pops would have never forced either of us to follow a specific path. I know the turning point for her. She helped at a fundraising event and saw the impact of what we do in the donation process. Getting the word out is our specialty. Hayley saw the effect something she would create could have.
She also confesses she’s really missed me. It’s at that point she curls up against me like she used to when I’d read her bedtime stories when she was little. I make her promise she won’t allow me to lose myself again. It occurs to me now, I’m sitting out on the beach, the same beach I’d been so afraid to come back to, and I’m fine. I’m more than fine.
It feels odd sometimes to be thanked for simply showing up. It happens to me repeatedly as I am packing to leave. Gran kisses my cheek and pats my chest as she curls under my arm. My parents walk in together. I’m reminded to check my email when I get home by my father.Ever the leader.My mother reminds me to text when I get to their house to exchange modes oftransport, then again when I get to the apartment, and to send pictures of the renovations.Ever the mother.
The last “See you soon” comes from Pops. I lock my small bag in the back of Hayley’s car. Turning around, I find he’s standing behind me with my helmet in his hand.
“Trying to sneak off?” he says.
“No, sir. I would’ve found you.”
“Tomorrow’s the big day.”
“For both of us. Are you ready?”
“Yes, Eli. I am ready. I’m excited for you. This is something I’ve waited years to see come to pass. Do you have any reservations?”
“No, Pops. Just know I won’t let you down.”
“I never thought for a moment you ever would. If you need me, I’m a phone call away.”
I take my helmet from his hand and smile. “You might regret saying that.”
“Never, my boy.”
I catch him waving to me in my rearview until I can’t see him anymore. There’s a chill to the air today as I’m driving back. There’s that change of season starting. I know it’s because of a weather front, but it helps my mindset from the weekend remain the closer I get to the city.
I debated just taking the bike home. After a conversation with the building manager, I’d like to make its new home with me a permanent move. I promised Lauren and Stacey I would let them show me my new digs. I had no say, other than the painting, and I’m fine with that.
I haven’t seen them this confident in a design ever. I’m usually the one who sees everything first in all their projects. There’s always a lingering piece of doubt. They’re artists. It’s in their nature. Lauren makes me close my eyes. I roll them hard before doing so. She gives me a good smack for it too.
I can hear the key in the lock, and they each take an arm to guide me in. We round the corner so I’m facing into my living room and dining room space. The smell of fresh paint still lingers slightly in the air. Lauren counts to three then tells me to open my eyes.
The once slightly dated blinds have all been removed and replaced with floor-to-ceiling sheers and blackout shades for the room’s length of windows. The palette of stark white and neutral grays has been replaced with a warm oatmeal sofa and three different shades of blue reflected in the pillows and chairs. They’ve mounted my massive flat screen to the wall over a generous console table, which houses my gaming system, sound system, and newly purchased turntable with all of the best U2 vinyl flanking it to the right.
“Fucking hell, you guys.”
Lauren finally asks the question, out of habit, I think. “You really like it?”
“Fuck sake. I’m speechless.”
