“You know why I switched to something more reliable as well as I do,” I said. “I minored in English. And before Henry was born, I read a lot. And you’re still not answering my question.”
Blake turned to the side, his brown lace-up boots scraping against the gravel of the lot as he did. He looked at the Pig, then faced me again. “I shouldn’t go in there. Too much temptation.”
“You quit drinking?” I asked.
“I stopped drinking. I’ll never quit.” He shrugged. “It’s been about six weeks now.”
“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it.”
“Yeah. It is. I even joined a gym.” He held up his right arm and flexed, even though there was no way to see anything beneath the shirt. “Bright-eyed. Bushy-tailed. That’s me.”
“A gym? You couldn’t run twenty feet in college.”
“Ten if I was lucky. And that was only if someone was giving away beer or pizza.”
I laughed. “True enough. Well, I’m happy for you.”
Cars passed on the street, their headlights making us squint. The air smelled like rain, and some thick clouds obscured the early-emerging stars. I wore a denim jacket but felt a shiver as the wind kicked up.
Blake pointed across the street to the coffee shop. “I was hoping we could talk. Just a few minutes. I know they don’t sell anything stronger than caffeine over there.”
I checked the time on my Apple watch. Amanda expected me. And I really wanted to get home before Henry went to sleep. Being home for his bedtime mattered to me. A great deal. Taking part in the bedtime ritual helped ease my sense of missing out during the long hours I was away at work.
“I can’t,” I said. “Really, I just can’t. Amanda’s been with Henry all day, and I already got delayed here. One of our servers is going through a breakup, and he wanted my advice. That took longer than I expected. You know how seriously college kids take breakups. How about lunch tomorrow? That would work a lot better.”
“I know, I know. You’ve got a family now. And you’re dedicated. And juggling a lot. I get it. And I know these kids who work here look at you like you’re their sensitive big brother. I’m sure they bring you their problems all the time.”
“It happens. They’re away from home. They have crises. . . .”
But he started shaking his head. “But I kind of need this. It’s an emergency.”
“An emergency? What are you talking about?”
But he simply pointed across the street. And smiled, a look I recognized and remembered well. The look said, Come on. You’re going to want to hear this.
It was certainly tough to say no to an old friend. And it was tough to say no to Blake. Sometimes it felt like he could convince anyone of anything. And while I’d learned over the years to recognize when he was stretching the truth or attempting to lead me down some path I shouldn’t take, a part of me always felt a little thrill at the thought of taking the ride.
Blake knew me so well. And he knew so much about me.
What emergency was he contending with tonight? Six months since we’d last talked and he looked like a man transformed?
“Ten minutes,” I said, pointing at the watch. “Talk fast when we get there.”
He nodded, and we went to the curb, waiting for a break in the passing traffic, and then crossed the street side by side like when we were in college, doing every damn thing together.
CHAPTER TWO
The place was called the Ground Floor, and the weeknight crowd was light. Most of the students from the state university in town went to a coffee shop near campus, one run by some recent graduates. The bell dinged over our heads as we pushed through the glass door, and Blake stepped aside, allowing an elderly couple to pass. They thanked him, and Blake gave them his brightest smile.
“You two go straight home now,” he said. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“We’re too old for that,” the woman said, placing her hand on Blake’s arm.
“I doubt that,” he said, leaning in a little.
And they all laughed.
The Ground Floor catered to a professional crowd, one that came in early in the morning and during the afternoon and then drifted away when the sun went down. But I stopped in there from time to time since it was across the street from the Pig, and it seemed neighborly to support each other’s businesses. And I also knew the Ground Floor because my small PR firm had helped the shop with a branding campaign two years earlier. One of our designers had redone their logo, giving it a more modern look, and while I hadn’t worked on that job, I figured anyone who gave business to our slowly growing outfit deserved to receive my coffee patronage.
At the counter I ordered an Americano while Blake opted for a blend, and we settled in at an isolated table in a corner of the room. Al Stewart’s “Time Passages” played overhead, and the steamer hissed as it blew froth behind the counter. I loved the rich smell of the roasting beans, the lingering scent of the pastries baked that morning. I pulled out my phone and texted Amanda, telling her I was delayed but wouldn’t be long. It took a lot of willpower, but I ignored the flurry of notifications that came up, real-time responses to my beer photo from the Pig and a post from earlier in the day, a shot I’d taken of Henry being bathed.
Be there soon.
And as soon as I hit SEND and heard the swooshing sound of the text heading her way, I wished I’d just told Blake no, that I’d stuck to just going to lunch with him.
But he’d used the word “emergency.” Why?
I had my suspicions. When we’d met in college, we quickly settled into roles. Blake was wild, and I was serious. I studied too much, and Blake would get me to loosen up.
Then Blake would go too far, and I’d rein him in. Blake would have a crisis—a girl, a professor, his parents—and I’d advise him on the best way to handle it.
I expected a crisis. An irritated boss. A new relationship gone wrong.
I waited a moment, hoping Amanda would respond. But she didn’t.
I’d tried calling her an hour earlier but hadn’t gotten an answer. Sometimes she tried to catch a nap at the same time as Henry. Sometimes she just got too busy with Henry to bother with the phone. But I wanted to make sure she knew I wouldn’t be home when I’d said I would. I felt a little like a fool admitting that I’d had no idea how much strain having a newborn would add to our lives. I don’t think either one of us had. Amanda felt it more because she was on the front line with Henry every day, and I wanted to get home to help as fast as I could.
“I bet you didn’t mention my name,” Blake said.