Chapter 9 #2
He walks away, shaking his head, and I laugh louder, shouting out more zombie movies until the basement door slams shut. I look myself over on my way to the front of the house, satisfied enough with my appearance when I don’t spot any blood anywhere. I pull open the door and Leo studies me closely.
“What the hell happened to you? I’ve been calling for like two days, and then you take eight years to answer the damn door.” He pushes past me, inviting himself in.
“Years is a bit of an overexaggeration, don’t you think?” I glance back at him, shutting and locking the door.
He kicks his shoes off, looking around as he plops down on the couch. “Not really when I’ve been fucking worried about you all week.”
“Everything’s fine. I’ve just been tired.”
“You look it. You also look like you’ve lost some color since I last saw you.”
“I guess that’s my cue to get some sun.”
“Yeah, it is. Want to come to pick a pumpkin with me this weekend? It’s the perfect opportunity.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Nope. Not really.” He pushes back against the cushions.
“Yeah, figured as much. And okay, but you’re driving.”
“Of course. You act like that’s a new thing. You loved making me drive everywhere before too.” He gives me an apologetic expression. “I mean—”
“It’s fine. We can talk about it. I’m not going to break if we do.”
“Yeah. I know. So are you planning to stay in that robe all day or are you going to get dressed and let me take you somewhere to grab lunch?” He sniffs the air and looks over to the kitchen. “Is that sausage and eggs?”
“Yup. Forgot all about that.”
“Okay, new plan. We’ll eat here and then go costume shopping.”
“What are we, ten? You know I don’t dress up anymore.”
“Maybe you should. The party I’m dragging you to has a costume contest, and all three of us can match. Make it a fun theme.”
“And how does Glen feel about this wonderful idea of yours?”
“He’ll love it once I’m shoving his costume in his hands on Halloween.”
Throwing my head back, I laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll go get dressed. You go on and fix yourself a plate.”
“I can wait, so you don’t have to sit at the table with me watching you eat later.”
I snort. “It’s not like it’ll be the first time.”
“Alright, go change, and maybe rinse off a little. You look like you could use a splash of water or two to wake you up more.”
“Yeah, and maybe three energy drinks.”
“Ah, that’s what I’ll do while I wait. I’ll make coffee.”
“Okay, but don’t go organizing my pantry again. I still can’t find where you moved my Oreos.”
He waves me off, taking himself to the kitchen, and I rush off to my bathroom.
Standing in front of the mirror, I drop my robe to the floor, and man was he right about my appearance.
I look so disheveled and like I’m the one who recently came back from the dead.
Brushing my teeth and washing my face doesn’t help me feel more human either.
Neither does straightening out my hair or putting on clothes.
I still feel like I’m dragging when I walk back into the kitchen, the savory scent of bacon calling my name.
“There. That’s much better. You look . . . almost like yourself,” he teases, lifting a steaming mug to his mouth. “I made yours with ice, just how you like it.”
“Thanks. It’s really good having you here. It is. I’m sorry if I ever make you feel otherwise.”
He gives me a downturned stare. “It’s okay. I know you’re going through a hard time, and it’s good to get away from the house for a bit while Glen’s working that construction job two hours away.”
“You getting the work-at-home blues again?”
“Yeah.” He looks like he wants to say more but takes another sip of his drink.
“Everything okay at home?” I move around him, fixing my plate and reaching for my drink sitting behind him.
“Yeah . . . we’ve both just been so busy. We haven’t set a new date for the wedding yet. I bring it up, but Glen either changes the subject or asks to talk about it later. It’s probably my fault. I think I’ve ruined things between us for good after—”
“After what?”
His lips press tightly together and he sits up taller. “Nothing . . . I don’t want to bother you with my problems. I’m supposed to be here for you.”
“I can be here for you at the same time, you know? It’s what friends do.”
His lips turn inward and then he smiles softly. “I know. But really . . . it’ll all be fine.” His eyes grow heavy.
“I’m sorry, Leo.” I squeeze his shoulder, wishing I could do more for him.
I know how much he loves Glen, but the guy hasn’t been very affectionate or there for him the way he needs him lately.
Not that he was much of a touchy-feely guy to begin with, but I think it’s gotten worse with all his work changes and family drama.
I tried to be there, but I was so busy with my own shit, I kind of started distancing myself too.
“Eh.” His lips turn up a little, not matching his hooded eyes. “It’ll work itself out, I’m sure.”
“You still want to marry Glen, right?”
“Yeah,” he says, and the answer sounds a little forced. “I think so.”
“Well, I’m here for you whenever you need to talk about it or even do something to not think about it for a while.”
His lips lift higher and he squeezes my hand between his fingers. “So does that mean you’re going costume shopping with me, then?”
I let out a breathy laugh, knocking my shoulder against his. “Yes. I could use some more ghost decorations.”
His face brightens. “Good. We’ll eat and then head out.
” He jumps off the counter to scoop food from both pans onto his plate, then we sit at the table to eat and chat some more.
Leo goes on about the neighbor almost setting his lawn on fire while lighting too many pumpkins.
He’s always so animated when he talks, and it’s like the light in any room he steps into radiates from him.
“So I’ll be using those fake candles from here on out,” he says promptly, and I chuckle, downing the rest of my coffee.
As we finish eating and he helps me tidy the kitchen, I struggle to keep my eyes off the basement door. I have to leave him for a while, and I don’t know how he’s going to respond to it. I hate doing it. But my friend needs me. He’s been here for me and now it’s my turn to return the favor.
Floorboards creak from the stairs below us and luckily Leo is so wrapped up in the story he’s sharing with me that he doesn’t notice.
I do, though. My heart jumps with each board Gareth sets his foot on.
He’s pacing, growing impatient. He did that whenever I kept him waiting too long before too.
Like he said, some things never change. Those things aren’t what have me worried or on high alert, though. It’s the ones that have.
“You listening to me?” Leo snaps a finger between us.
“Yeah. I am. Sorry. I just . . . being here for long periods makes me easily distracted.” His lips turn in and he wraps me in a tight, warm hug.
Drawing out a breath close to my ear, he says, “It’s okay. I don’t think I’d be able to be here at all. Not with all the memories.”
He leans back, eyes cloudy and his soft smile hopeful.
“Yeah. I smell him everywhere. I feel him everywhere.” Not just when he’s in the same room with me but when he isn’t too.
He’s with me everywhere I go now, even more than before he was buried underground.
I walk out to take the trash to the curb and can immediately feel him pulling me back through the front door.
“Is that what that sour smell is? Because I was thinking that was you needing to catch up on laundry.” His eyes crinkle and I snicker, shoving at his shoulder.
“Funny. But I guess I needed that laugh.”
“Lucky for you, I’ll be here to provide you with more all day long.”
“Yeah, lucky me,” I say snidely.
“Ready to go?” He hits the on button on the dishwasher behind him, looking as spritely as he did when he first got here.
“Sure. Go get the car started and I’ll follow in a bit. Have to take care of one more thing before I leave.”
“I can wait here if you need me to.”
“Nah.” I wave my hand at him. “That won’t be necessary. I won’t be long, I promise.”
“Okay.” He narrows in on me. “You have five minutes.”
I chuckle softly. “Yeah, okay, but the longer you stand here looking at me, the less I’m able to guarantee those five minutes.”
He makes a face. “Fine. I’ll be in the car.” He waves a hand behind him as he treads toward the door. “Remember. Five minutes,” he calls back.
“Six now,” I yell right before the front door shuts after him.
Heart feeling lighter from the recent laughs and smiles I’ve shared with my friend, I go to the closet to grab my jacket.
Sliding on one side at a time with my eyes on the basement door, a sinking sensation takes over, and I push out a breath as I slowly approach it.
I pull it open to Gareth leaning against the stairwell wall with his arms crossed across his chest.
“What took you so long?”
A strong bleach smell hits my nose when I take two steps closer to him. “I had a friend visit.”
“Ah, Leo,” he says with familiarity strong in his voice.
“Yeah. You remember him?”
“Yeah. Well, only that he’s your best friend and we hung around him a lot. The rest is a bit fuzzy, like most things.”
“Yeah, he and Glen used to come over for dinner sometimes, and we’d go out together a lot.”
“Did they fight a lot? Feels like they did.”
My lips twist and I nod, remembering the last time I had to run after my friend to console him after Glen said something to upset him. I told Gareth to go talk to Glen while I walked around with Leo until he felt better. “Sometimes. More so within the last year they’ve been together.”
“Did we fight?”
I run through my brain for anytime we’ve had a disagreement, not able to recall anything that really stands out. “Not really.”
Was that the problem? Did Gareth see that as our relationship lacking passion?