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By the time I’ve finished packing, the rumble of voices is already traveling up the stairs. I drag my suitcase down, finding Tom, Theron, Gabe, Stefan and Russell by the door. Stefan’s eyebrows draw together when he sees me, and he steps away from the others to rest his hand on my shoulder. “You look like shit. Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
At any other time, I would take a question like that personally, but today, I feel unsettled enough to acknowledge that his lack of confidence in me is probably on point. My hands don’t feel right. My mind is taken up with whirring through scenario after scenario that could help to rectify the situation for Allie. I’m too focused on fixing things that I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate enough to get myself to her apartment safely.
“Maybe you should drive.”
Stefan meets my suggestion with a surprised nod. And with that, I change my mind about something else.
“Gabe, I need you and the others to stay here. I don’t think everyone should leave yet. It isn’t time.”
“What do you mean?” Theron asks.
“I just…I haven’t worked it out yet, but I want Allie to know that coming back here and being with us all again is an option.”
Gabe slicks his tongue over his teeth and his eyes darken. “I don’t think that’s something she’s ever going to want again.”
“Enjoy the place,” I tell him, not able to face his defeatism. “Order in if you need to. Whatever you want.” I slide my credit card from my wallet and hand it to him. “I’m not asking for me. I’m asking for Allie.”
Gabe studies the card in his hand like it’s an unexploded bomb and, after a beat, hands it back. “I’ll stay but I don’t need your money.” He glances at his cousin and they share an unspoken communication. “But I can’t promise the rest will.”
I guess that’s as good as I can hope for. Turning to Russell and Theron, I slide my wallet back into my pocket. “Stefan is driving. I think we should all travel together.”
“I’ll drive me and Theron,” Russell says. “I don’t like being driven, and it gives us options.”
His jaw is set, determinedly. I guess I’ll have to accept that maybe he isn’t interested in presenting a united front to Allie, and maybe it’s unfair of me to expect that he would be. Maybe Russell has his own plan for when we arrive, and that may not involve the rest of us. He’s always been a lone wolf in the group, although by the end, I thought Allie had brought him into the fold.
What am I saying? We’re not really a group, are we? Just men brought together to discuss our physical attributes. And yet, for the first time since I was in college, I feel part of something bigger and better. I didn’t realize how much I missed the camaraderie of men until I spent time in this house. I’d forgotten how good it is to live with other people.
Gabe backs away from the door, and the four of us who are leaving wheel our suitcases down to the waiting cars.
Tom follows, hanging around next to Russell’s truck as he tosses the luggage in the back. Before Russell can open his door, Tom steps forward. “Bring her back, Russell. Okay. Just bring her back.”
Russell freezes momentarily, his face taking on an openness I haven't seen before. Then Tom claps him on the shoulder and the strange spell is broken.
As Tom strides back to the house, I open the passenger door to Stefan’s car and slide into its luxurious depths.
Sensing my disquiet, Stefan sets up a playlist after tapping in Allie’s address, and we set off on our mission, which is feeling more and more like a mission impossible.
We’re half an hour into the journey when Stefan reduces the music to a quieter volume.
“I really like Allie,” he admits. His tone rises at the end, as though he’s surprised at his own feelings, which I understand totally.
“I really like her too.”
“It’s been a long time since I really liked anyone.”
The impact of that statement settles between us. He knows it’s the same for me. We’ve been friends for more than fifteen years and witnessed each other's relationship failures.
“What am I supposed to do, Stefan?” I ask. “It doesn’t matter how much I try to come up with a strategy to fix this, I just can’t.”
“What are you trying to fix?”
“Allie’s life.”
He nods, and taps his fingers on the steering wheel, out of time to the music but maybe in time to his own thoughts. “What about your life?”
“I don’t give a shit what they write about me. I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks of me. The only thing I care about is Allie and making sure she’s okay…not just now, but in the future too.”
Stefan continues drumming against the steering wheel. In the darkness, his profile is set with concentration as he stares at the road that stretches darkly before us. Stefan glances behind at the truck that’s following. Theron and Russell must be talking about this situation too, although I’m sure their comments are less measured than my friend’s.
