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Olivia pulls out her phone, her fingers swipe across the screen, then she’s handing it to me. Immediately my eyes scan the headline Late Night Fire Destroys Local Community Shelter before traveling down to the picture. The entire backside of the building has collapsed in. Half of the north and west walls are standing. Smoke lingers in the air as ashes still smolder. In one night, everything is gone. For a brief moment I feel relieved Seth is okay. That everyone is okay but then it hits me. They lost everything. My words are non-existent. I feel completely and utterly helpless. “Do they know what happened?” I pass Olivia her phone back.
“We haven’t heard anything yet,” Trey replies
“I should call Seth. I’m going to call Seth.” Before they can respond, I stand on wobbly legs and turn, the clacking of my booties echoing through the open atrium drowning out the thoughts in my head. Once in the elevator I pull out my phone and find Seth’s number. My finger hovers over the call button, unsure of what I should say. Sorry about your family’s foundation burning to the ground but I can’t stop thinking about our kiss. Shit. I’m an asshole. I toss my phone back into my bag and lean my head against the wall. The ding from the elevator when it stops on my floor pulls me from my self-deprecation. My legs propel me down the hall like I’m on autopilot and my destination is programmed into my brain. I tune out all the chatter and people milling around me. Once I reach my new office, I walk through the threshold and softly close it behind me. I slump against the wood and slide down to the floor, needing a few minutes of silence to collect my thoughts. With my bag next to me, contents spilled on the floor, I find my phone and pull up Seth’s number again. This time I press the talk button. My heart feels like it’s going to pound right out of my rib cage. It rings and rings until finally his voicemail picks up. “Hi Seth, I just heard the news. I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can help with, let me know. Call me back.”
I press the end button but still feel unsatisfied. Rising to my feet I walk to my desk, take a seat, and try to distract myself with work.
Several hours pass and I feel like I’ve accomplished nothing. I stare at my phone sitting on my desk and it’s been crickets all morning, minus Charlie sending me a message about the fire. But Seth still hasn’t returned my call so this time I send him a quick message.
Sorry to hear about the fire. Glad no one was hurt. Please give me a call.
Again, I wait, but this time I can see he’s opened my message but still no response. All afternoon I continue to check my phone, but my message remains unanswered. I’m at a loss on what to do. Looking back, I know I’ve made several mistakes that I wish I could take back. He’s been the only guy who’s ever been there for me, truly been there, and all I did was keep him at arm’s length. I can’t blame him for not wanting to talk to me. Somehow, I need to show him he means so much more to me than I’ve given him credit for.
Twenty-Five
Bring good snacks
Seth
When I got the text message from Trey that it was guys night at Porter’s, I knew I needed to get out of the house, at least for a few hours. Dealing with the insurance company about the fire has been a headache. Then there’s Parisa. She’s left me voicemails and messages all day, but I didn’t have it in me to message back.
As soon as my shoes hit the pavement, a gust of bitter cold wind rolling off the lake slaps me in the face. I shut my car door, lock it with the key fob, and make my way toward the front door of Porter’s. I shove my hands into my coat pockets to fight off the cold. The door opens, a couple strolls out, and I slip inside after them. Immediately, I spot Trey and Bennett sitting at a high-top table left of the bar. I shrug off my coat and make my way toward the familiar faces.
“Hey man. Sorry about the fire.” Bennett slides a cold pint of beer in my direction.
“Thanks.”
“Has the fire inspector found the cause yet?”
“Nothing yet. Just that it was an electrical fire that started somewhere on the backside. It might be a few more days before we find out anything definite.” I lift the glass to my mouth and take a drink, contemplating on saying what I’ve been thinking all day. “Truth be told, I think the fire was my fault.”
Trey and Bennett turn to me simultaneously. “What are you talking about?” Trey asks.
“Yeah. What are you talking about?” Bennett parrots.
“Fuck.” My gaze wanders up to the ceiling before falling back down to my two best friends and I exhale a deep breath. “So, I was getting ready to serve dinner last night and Parisa showed up wanting to talk. I wasn’t in the mood to talk, but somehow she weaseled her way into volunteering. Not only that, but volunteering next to me on the serving line. All night she distracted me. Maggie had mentioned something about the dishwasher not working right. It was doing some weird stuff. Someone was coming in later in the week to look at it, so I was going to turn off the breaker before I left, but Parisa distracted me and I forgot.” I take another swig of my beer. “It’s been eating at me that it’s my fault because I didn’t take care of that piece of shit dishwasher.”
“Hey, Seth. Take it easy. It was an accident.” Bennett clasps me on the shoulder.
“It’s like the world is punishing me.”
“For what?”
“Fuck. I don’t know. Wanting to be with the girl instead of staying focused.”
“What are you talking about?” Bennett tilts his head.
“First, the night my mom went to the hospital, I was with Parisa. I ignored my phone all night because I thought it was Trey and all his sex jokes. And now this. I was distracted because of Parisa and the foundation burned to the ground.”
“Are you blaming Parisa?” Bennett asks.
“No. I don’t know. Bad things seem to happen whenever we get close.”
“That’s some voodoo conspiracy shit,” Trey says.
“Look, all that shit is just a coincidence. It means nothing.” Bennett takes a drink of his beer.
Trey turns to me. “Are you guys going to rebuild?”
