17. CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 17
ETHAN
I t was always strange when I came back here, but being back permanently is almost surreal.
I adjust the contrast on an image I’m working on in the back corner office at work. It’s cool here. The people are chill, and I’m pretty much left on my own, designing ads and layouts. And while there’s the pressure of deadlines, it’s pretty relaxing.
Funny, I never saw myself as someone who could work a desk job. I thought I’d go out of my mind. Now, I’m thankful for the cover of these walls. It means I won’t run into her .
The first time I came back to town—not my hometown—but back to the greater Rochester area after Dad was diagnosed, I was physically ill. My stomach was in knots and my skin in goosebumps, afraid I would run into Ari. Or maybe I was a little hopeful I would. But after I got the call from Mom saying Dad had stage four prostate cancer, I got on the first plane home. They assured me they were going to put up their best fight, even though they were divorced.
Mom left Dad shortly after I left for college, but they were pretty amicable up until the end. I guess when someone gets sick, like, really sick, you bury all the bad shit between you and just move forward.
Anyway, I went back to Georgia to finish my last year with the Army, flying back north frequently to visit my dad while he underwent treatment. Then I came back permanently and got a few months in before Dad passed. I lived with Mom in her small craftsman-style home just outside the city until I bought my own ranch house in the suburbs.
I was fortunate to come across an ad for a graphics position just before making the move.
A ding drags me out of my thoughts, and I glance at the phone on my desk to see I have a message from Fonz.
Drinks at nine?
After confirming with him, I save the image I just finished working on and email my coworker, letting him know it’s finished, then grab my jacket and helmet and head out.
I immediately spot Fonz at the corner of the honky-tonk bar on the outskirts of the city—our usual spot—and make my way over to him, placing my helmet on the bar top and slinging my jacket over the back of the stool as he stands and gives me a real hug, not one of those bro hugs that are half a handshake, half a hug.
“Good God, have your muscles gotten bigger since the last time I saw you.” Fonz pulls away and pinches my nipple through my shirt. I slap his hand away.
“Nah. I told you, I work out. And also, I saw you last weekend.”
“I know.” Fonz pulls his stool out to sit. “But I swear your muscles grow overnight. What did they do to you in the Army?”
I’m so glad that when I got back to town and reached out to Fonz, it was like I never left.
We both cross our arms and hunch over the bar top. The bartender, wearing a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up and exposing heavily tattooed forearms, glances our away and holds up two fingers, silently asking if we want our usuals. I nod in his direction. “I told you, the training whipped my ass into shape, but it also helped me learn to sort shit out in my head. So, I like to keep up my regiment. It’s good for the physique and the psyche.”
The bartender runs a rag over the bar before placing two drafts in front of us. “Thanks, Matt,” Fronz says. “Hey, could we get some wings, too?”
“Comin’ right up.”
We lift our beers and tap them together. “To old friends,” Fonz says and takes a drink. “So, how are the home renovations going?”
I rub a hand over my scruffy jaw in exasperation. Actually, it’s more than just scruff. While I maintain the buzz cut I had in the Army, I’ve grown out my beard so it covers my face. “I guess the reno could be worse, but it could also be better.”
“That well, huh?”
I take a swig of beer. “I finally caved and hired someone to do the kitchen, and they will eventually do the bathroom. I don’t know what I was thinking, trying to attempt it myself.”
“Anyone we know?” Fonz pulls his beanie off, scratches his scalp, and replaces it—his silky dark hair is long enough that some curls peek out underneath.
“It’s a newer company called Knox Mitchell Homebuilding. A coworker gave me the referral. The guy came in with a good price and I like what I’ve seen of his work, so I’m giving him a shot.”
“Nice.”
The bartender drops a pile of napkins off as he passes by.
“So, what’s new with you?” I ask my old friend. “Are you and your dad keeping busy in the off-season?”
He swallows a gulp of beer. “Yeah. Remember how I told you my dad is leasing space at a garage out by Avon?” I nod. “He’s lined up a bunch of customers already. Some farmers who need maintenance on equipment. He’s almost booked through the end of the year.”
“Awesome! You really like it? Farming and following in your dad’s footsteps and all that?”
Fonz teeters his head this way and that. “Partly, yes. I like the work—being outside, on the land, not having to deal with too many people, living simply, if that makes sense.” I nod again and take a drink. “But part of it is definitely loyalty. Dad can’t do it by himself. And I know he loves having me with him.”
The bartender approaches with our wings. “Bon appétit, gents.” He places the basket down in front of us, and Fonz and I fall quiet as we dive in.
I lick a glob of blue cheese off my thumb before I finally break the silence. “As long as you’re happy, Fonz. I mean, I know you are happy, but sometimes I think that comes from making other people happy. It’s OK to put yourself first sometimes.”
He’s nodding as he licks his fingers and discards a bone. “I know. And I’m thinking of getting my own place.”
“Really?” I pause with a wing halfway to my mouth.
“Yeah, well, I have to find something cheap.”
“Here’s an idea. Why don’t you come live with me?” Fonz frowns at me. “Listen, I have a three-bedroom house and it’s just me. I could use help with the smaller renovations that I’m doing myself, and sometimes I need someone there when the contractors come.”
Fonz thinks it over. “I couldn’t give you much each month.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want any rent money, Fonz. My schooling was paid for by the Army, and I got a nice benefit when I left, which I used as a down payment on the house. I’m making decent money now. I don’t need the rent, I need help. And honestly,” I turn and rest my arm on the back of his stool, “I could use the company.”
Fonz chuckles and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “You gettin’ lonely there, big boy?”
I grin as the bartender places new drinks in front of us. “Maybe.” I lift the glass to take a sip, then turn back and face the bar as Fonz pushes the basket of bones to the side.
“It’ll be weird not living in a full house,” he says.
“Good weird, though.”
“Goddamn right. Might be fucking peaceful for once.”
I laugh as I think about Fonz’s family. “I should stop over and see them.”
“Oh my God, the twins would love that. And Miss Vida would faint— and she’d bake something really freaking delicious.”
“Oh man, I would kill for one of those double-chocolate brownies.”
“So good!” Fonz closes his eyes as he takes a sip of beer.
“Ari always loved those, too.”
All the air is sucked out of the room. Her name just rolled right off my tongue, and several years’ worth of unsettled emotions barrel into me as if I’ve just hit the brakes on a snow-covered highway, but it’s too late—my mind is fishtailing and heart fluttering as adrenaline courses through my veins.
Fonz feels the change in atmosphere because he isn’t stupid. He’s also eerily still.
Fuck it. I’m dying to ask. “How is she these days?”
“Uh,” he says, reaching for his glass and taking a long sip. “Good. She’s good. I mean, as far as I know. Haven’t really seen too much of her lately.”
“Oh, really? I thought you guys were still pretty tight.”
“We are. But sometimes we just get busy, you know.” I find it weird he’s not looking at me and acting all cagey. “Maybe you should call her?”
I whip my head toward Fonz. “What? Why would I do that?”
“It’s not like you guys had some big falling out or anything. You just kind of went in different directions.”
I shake my head and down the rest of my beer. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Enlighten me.”
“We were bad for each other.”
“You were best friends.”
“Sometimes friends aren’t always good for each other.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I don’t know.” My head drops down until it’s resting on the bar. “All I know is those were dark times, and also some of the best times of my life. And I miss them. I miss her and I miss all three of us, and I’m also terrified of stirring anything up.” I lift my head and look at Fonz. “I just don’t want to cause Ari any trouble. If she’s in a good place—and you said she was getting there—then I don’t want to stand in the way of that, especially if seeing me is going to dredge up her dark past.”
Fonz just looks down at his fingers as he twists a napkin in them.
“Last time we talked about her you said she was good. Is that still the case?”
He pauses, then nods. “Yeah. Yeah, she’s good.”
“OK.” I let out a breath. “Then I’ll just leave her alone.”