7. Will
Chapter seven
PRESENT DAY
Will
“ Y ou can’t possibly be serious about staying here.” My mother gave me a pained look, running her manicured fingernail along the sill of my living room’s picture window. She moved across the room to the arched entryway of the kitchen, dipping her head to glance inside before retreating quickly, as though walking into my newly renovated kitchen was equivalent to entering a particularly foul porta potty.
“Mother, you’re being ridiculous.” While my apartment certainly had a lot of the quirkiness and character that came from being housed in a 1920s-era building, it had been completely gutted and redone with every conceivable modern upgrade. But the narrow hallways and cage elevator had my parents convinced it was basically a slum.
“I’m not,” she insisted. “Sweetheart, this move is ill-advised. What was wrong with your condo in Bellevue?”
“We’ve been over this. I bought that place because I thought it’d be a good investment—and it was—but it never really felt like me. This is a much better fit.”
She sniffed. “Well, your father and I don’t like it. Not at all. We hate having to worry about you so much.”
My chest tightened as the words hit like knives—digging into old wounds. Sighing, I sought to reassure her. “I’m twenty-nine years old, Mother. I can handle myself. Pretty sure you and Father don’t need to be on top of my living situation. Besides, you know full well this is a nice neighborhood.”
“It’s certainly…colorful,” she allowed.
“C’mon. It’s full of beautiful old architecture, million-dollar homes, and all the galleries, bars, and restaurants anyone can ask for. At my old place, the neighborhood died at eight o’clock every night.” I walked over to kiss her on the side of her head, feeling the crunch of her hair products. “I’m staying here, so you’ll need to make peace with it.”
“Well, I suppose it is good for you to be in a place where you can be more social. Get out and meet people.” She turned her head away and spoke to the wall. “You know, Rosalyn is still single. She asks about you sometimes—”
“Mother. No.” Her posture stiffened as she adjusted her purse higher on her shoulder. It had been a few months since she’d brought up my former fiancée, to the point I’d begun to hope my parents had finally accepted my choice to end the engagement. Especially since it had been almost four years. Apparently not.
But they would need to get over it because I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I’d thought about Roz. If that didn’t confirm I’d made the right decision, I didn’t know what would.
Recently, only one woman had been on my mind. One with a sharp wit and even sharper tongue, not to mention a wicked sense of style. I couldn’t stop thinking about Maureen because, after a year of dodging one another, I’d be seeing her again in less than two weeks.
My mother brought me back to the present, laying a hand on the radiator cover. “Are you sure this is safe?” she asked. “I’ve heard these things can explode out of the blue.”
I scoffed. “Good grief. Have you been on TikTok again? I assure you, no explosions are imminent.”
“This electric panel looks old too.”
“All the electrical was just redone.”
“By a licensed electrician?”
“Yes.” I gritted my teeth. “This is my building. Do you think I’d allow shoddy workmanship?”
“Of course not, darling. I’m just saying that charlatans are out there trying to take advantage of good people like you. Certifications can be faked.”
I thought of Hank, the electrical contractor I’d hired for the building, a gruff older Gen-Xer with a reputation so sterling I’d had to wait months to get on his project list. I chuckled, imagining introducing him to my mother so she could accuse him of being a snake oil salesman.
“It’s truly amazing that you allowed me to handle millions of dollars’ worth of accounts at Wallingford, yet you don’t think I can hire someone to rehab a building.”
“That’s different.” She stepped over and reached for my hand. My right hand. “Your father and I were there with you at the company. And then these past few years, you’ve been making all these choices .” She hushed the last word like it was dirty. “Ending things with Rosalyn. Leaving Wallingford. Establishing your company. Selling your company. This building. It all seems a little…haphazard.” She ran her hand along the scars on my palms, over the taut skin where my ring and pinky finger used to be. “Sometimes it feels like you’re slipping away from us. Like I don’t understand you at all.”
I exhaled, grasping my mother’s wrist lightly to halt her examination. I’d let her and my father dictate my life for so long after the accident that they interpreted my making decisions for myself as a betrayal. They loved me, but for most of my life, that love had meant being stifled and smothered. The last time I’d attempted to rebel, I’d ended up in a medically induced coma with sixteen broken bones and minus two fingers. So I understood why they feared the worst.
Before I could reply, a knock signaled my father’s arrival.
As soon as I opened the door, he barreled through, barking, “Parking is hell outside.”
“Wonderful to see you too, Father. And in such a chipper mood. Happy Thanksgiving.”
He hmphed. “William, when you said you wanted to spend your time on this little project, I expected a much different result. Something sleek and modern. I thought you could convert these old apartments into condos for sale. Everything looks the same as it did when you bought it.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. I wanted to remind him this project had nothing to do with him. Wallingford Capital wasn’t invested, and he knew full well I had the financial capacity to do whatever I wanted. I could blow my money on a cotton candy food truck or convert an old church into a paintball venue—ideas pitched to me at my last firm—and barely feel the dent in my bank account.
“Father, I already told you that one of my goals was to maintain the integrity of the building. The architect’s design kept as much of the original structure as possible, so the exterior looks the same, with some safety upgrades. But I assure you—gas, water, electrical, Wi-Fi—all the modern amenities are top-notch. Plus, we added some common areas people will love, like the rooftop garden and gym. It’s the best of new and old.”
When I purchased the building on a short sale as an investment property, I’d originally thought of tearing it down, but after taking stock of the beautiful hardwoods, crown molding, and plasterwork, I decided on an extensive remodel instead. It had been a labor of love, but I knew I’d made the right call. I was so thrilled with the results, I moved into one of the third-floor apartments myself.
“What’s the square footage on your unit?” my father asked, frown still fixed in place.
“Twelve hundred.”
“Christ. If you wanted to live in a closet, you could have moved into your bedroom back home.”
My parents continued scrutinizing my living room. I’d fallen in love at first sight with its expansive view of downtown, but they recoiled as though expecting a family of rabid raccoons to burst through the walls at any moment. I tried to be patient, my habit of appeasing them long-standing, but I couldn’t help getting annoyed.
“Alright, both of you, this is important to me. And I wanted you to see it now that it’s done because I’m really proud. But if you’re just going to dump all over it, then we can leave right now.”
My father’s lips flattened, and my mother looked over at him, laying a hand on his arm before responding, “We’re just getting used to the idea, sweetheart. You know we only want what’s best for you.”
They wanted the best for me. They just had no faith in my ability to know what that was. And while I understood the reasons for their worries, I was done allowing them to dictate the terms of my existence. Done sleepwalking through my days. My penance had cost me years of my life. Suffocated my career. Kept me from my art. Turned me into a coward with Rosalyn. And Maureen.
Dammit. Why did my mind keep going to her? Because, dummy, it’s been a year since you’ve seen her, and now you’re scared about what will happen next weekend. Especially since you’ve been watching those videos nonstop.
I walked over to my parents and slung one arm over each of their shoulders in a move meant to placate them. My specialty. “Look, I really appreciate you coming to see the building now that it’s done. Even if you’re not enthusiastic. How about we head back to your house for dinner? I bet the caterer has it set up by now. You can fill me in on which of your business contacts will be joining us.” Thanksgiving had never been much of a family holiday for my parents. It was more of a chance to network for Wallingford.
They took my words for the peace offering they were, and we headed to our separate cars. The tenants were moving in over the weekend, and having the building full of people would be nice. I’d felt awful having to buy out some leases when the remodel started, considering it took the better part of a year. But I’d offered the previous tenants the first shot at the newly remodeled apartments, and most had taken me up on it, likely because I’d agreed to do the first year of rent at the old rates. I wasn’t trying to be Robin Hood or anything, but I had enough money I could afford not to be a dick.
I straightened the wreath I’d hung on the entry door on my way out.
Almost a week later, I’d fully moved into my new apartment. It had been a workout getting everything to the third floor. Movers had taken care of the large furniture, but I’d done the rest myself, hefting most of the boxes up the stairs rather than trying to make dozens of elevator trips. The last item I needed to bring in was a side chair I’d had since college. My grip faltered as I carried it up the steps from the second-floor landing.
Luckily, another set of hands appeared to grab it from the side above me, preventing the green velvet piece from bouncing down the stairs.
“I gotchya.” My savior walked backward as we lugged the chair to the top of the stairs, putting it down with a thud.
“Thanks,” I said, wiping an arm across my brow. “I guess I’ve gotten a little too confident in my gym routine because I honestly thought I could manage that on my own.”
“No problem.” The tall man smiled and made a come here gesture to a woman poking her head out of the nearest doorway.
“You’re Chase, right?” I asked, panting slightly with exertion. I was still getting to know all my tenants.
“Yeah. And I remember you’re Will, from when I picked up the key. This is my girlfriend, Bren. We’re here, 3C.”
“Cool. I’m in 3F.” I reached out to shake their hands. As usual, I caught the tiny flinch as they clocked my missing fingers, but they didn’t stare or make it weird. “Nice to meet you. Appreciate the help with the chair. It’s a favorite.” My breathing steadied. “I guess I better get it out of the hallway.”
I moved to pick it up when Bren stepped out in front of me. “Do I know you from somewhere?” she asked.
“Um…I don’t think so.” I’d felt a flicker of recognition the first time I’d met Chase, and I was experiencing the same with Bren now. But I couldn’t place either of them, so I chalked it up to the power of suggestion.
She tapped on her pursed lips as her eyes moved over me. “Hmm…I could swear.” More lip tapping. “Have you ever come into Mackenzie’s Brewery? Four blocks over. I work there.”
“No. I haven’t been much of anywhere yet. I’m still getting to know the neighborhood.”
“Well, when you start exploring, put Mackenzie’s at the top of your list,” Chase said. “The brewmaster is a wizard.”
Bren scrunched her eyes at me one last time before shrugging. “Definitely a wizard. I work nights, Tuesday through Saturday. I’d love to comp you a tasting flight if you come by, seeing as how the rent here is so reasonable. We probably owe you a few beers since you’re basically letting us rob you.”
I laughed, considering the offer. It had been a long time since I’d attempted to make friends outside the finance world. Since reconnecting with James, I’d realized how much I wanted that.
“I have to travel this weekend, but I’ll take you up on that when I get back.” Smiling, I gave a slight wave before resuming my task. Even after picking up the heavy chair and walking down the hallway, I felt lighter.
By the time I packed up my car to leave for Coleman Creek a few days later, I’d officially welcomed all fourteen of my tenants. Three units remained to lease out, but that would need to wait until after the new year. Since I had the time, I was acting as property manager for now. I’d contracted with a handyman service in case quick repairs were necessary, but I didn’t expect to need much of that yet, since the interiors had been gutted and everything was essentially brand new.
I’d arranged all the furniture in my apartment and even hung up some of my paintings. They’d never looked right in my condo. I also put up a Christmas tree. It was small and plastic, nothing spectacular, but I’d never been inspired to have one before. I figured I could decorate it when I got back from my trip. Heck, I might even go nuts and hang up a stocking since I finally had a fireplace that looked like a fireplace and not an oversized stainless-steel toaster oven.
My parents had stopped launching daily objections to my living situation as well, so I felt cautiously optimistic this piece of my life was coming together.
Which left me free to overthink about Maureen. Seeing her in person and not behind a computer screen. I wondered if she would consider it a violation of our agreement that I’d watched her videos. But once James told me about them, how could I resist?
Even though it might be awkward, I couldn’t say I dreaded our upcoming interaction. Because in an ideal world, we’d be able to hash out what happened five years ago and move on from it. I still wanted that. Wanted to know Maureen in whatever way she’d let me.
I knew her anger was justified. I shuddered when I thought of how I’d compounded lies with self-serving silence. But I didn’t believe it was sustainable, given our connection to James and Marley.
If I’d been honest with Maureen that night at Denny’s, maybe things would have progressed differently. Even if we’d turned out to be incompatible, our intense spark an anomaly, I couldn’t help wishing we’d had the chance to find out.
Sure, I’d been with other women since Roz and I broke up, but when it came to how comfortable I felt with someone, how intrigued, how easily the conversation flowed, how invested I felt from the jump—Maureen was still the gold standard. I’d never been so immediately, magnetically pulled toward anyone, never felt that same buzz under my skin.
I’d sensed that wild energy with her five years ago, and I’d felt a ghost of it last Christmas, when we’d been alone in her sister’s kitchen. That moment we’d both touched the stupid water glass haunted me more than any of the dates I’d had recently.
I had been careful to prevent any potential run-ins with Maureen in Coleman Creek this past year. Like when I’d told James I’d attend their Fourth of July barbecue, then claimed a stomach bug once I discovered Maureen would be there. Despite my desire to be near her, I’d respected her wishes and kept my distance.
But this trip would be different. James and Marley were having an engagement party, and as we’d both be part of their wedding next summer, there was no reasonable way for Maureen and me to escape being in the same room.
I tossed two of my favorite pillows in the back of the Audi before hopping into the driver’s seat. The hotel outside Coleman Creek was comfortable enough, but I was picky about pillows. I also threw in my sketch pad, some drawing pencils, and my travel easel. My muse didn’t appear easily, but I was always hopeful.
I’d parked in the loading zone in front of my building. As I was about to pull out, I realized I’d left my charger on the kitchen counter. I opened my door without checking the side mirror—a bonehead move I usually avoided—and narrowly missed clipping a bicycle speeding past.
“Watch it, asshole!” the man screamed as he swung wide into the street to avoid hitting my car door. After rounding the hood, he reached his arm back and flipped me the bird. “Fucking dick!” he shouted for good measure.
“Sorry,” I mumbled into the air. My body trembled as the near-miss registered.
The sharp knife of adrenaline bit into my veins.
If I’d opened my door one second later, that guy would have been laid out on the street.
I slunk into my seat, slamming the door shut and leaning my head against my hands on the steering wheel. The cyclist. I almost hit a cyclist. I was usually so careful. So conscious. Ever since… My heart hammered, and a steady whooshing sound in my ears made me dizzy. The feeling of drowning, of being pulled under and surrounded by the thickening air, overwhelmed me. It’s okay… He’s not on the ground… You’re not on the ground… It’s okay.
A tap, tap, tap against the glass broke into my consciousness.
“Hey, man, you alright?” Chase made a motion for me to lower the window, which I did.
My heart still thumped a million miles an hour, but I wrangled my breathing into something resembling normal. “I’m fine. Just a little shaken up. I almost hit that guy on the bike.”
“Yeah, I saw from the steps. But that wasn’t all on you. That dude was way too close to begin with, considering the loading zone, plus he could have gone one block over where there’s an actual dedicated bike lane.”
“Still, though. I didn’t look.” My heart rate began to level.
“I wouldn’t worry about it. Happens to all of us. He got to call you an ‘asshole’ and a ‘dick’ loud enough to wake the neighbors, plus flip you off. I’d say you’re even.”
I released a mirthless chuckle. Chase was right. An almost-accident wasn’t the same as something terrible happening. And one thing I’d learned as I’d wrested my life from my parents’ vise grip was not all risks could be mitigated.
I’d probably always have a mild panic attack whenever a moving bicycle got too close to my car. The sensation of asphalt beneath my thighs as the street literally ripped the skin from my body would stay with me forever. But did that mean I should never drive? I looked up at the building. I felt proud of something I’d worked at for the first time in a long time. My risk to take.
Chase continued making small talk as the adrenaline worked its way out of my system. I went to my apartment and grabbed my charger before getting back in the Audi. Carefully checking for cyclists, skateboarders, pedestrians, delivery drivers, door-to-door salespeople, stray dogs, and tumbleweeds, I pulled into the street.
I set off for James and Marley’s engagement party, thinking about taking another risk.