Chapter 1 The Future Were Building #2
Tonight follows the same pattern. We go back and forth for about ten minutes.
I tell him the math doesn't work if he keeps falling short.
He tells me he knows. I tell him that I put in my four hundred every single month without fail and I don't make as much as he does.
He gets quiet when I say that because he knows it's true.
Then he stands up and walks over to me and wraps his arms around me and puts his chin on top of my head because he's tall enough to do that comfortably.
"I'm sorry," he says. "I'll fix it. I promise. We're going to get that house."
I let him hold me. I let myself believe him one more time.
Because we've been together for six years.
Six years of holidays and birthdays and meeting each other's families and planning our future and sleeping beside each other every night.
He was my first serious boyfriend. He's the person I said yes to when he got down on one knee in his truck outside the restaurant where we had our first date.
I remember how nervous he looked. I remember how his hands shook when he opened the ring box.
That version of Blake still exists inside the one standing in front of me and I keep hoping he'll show up more often.
You don't throw away six years over a savings deposit.
At least that's what I tell myself.
Later that week the whole group gets together at Ronnie's apartment.
Ronnie lives with Nathan on the other side of town in a place that's somehow always cleaner than I expect two guys' apartment to be.
Ronnie says it's because Nathan is borderline obsessive about organization.
Nathan says it's because Ronnie is terrified of his disapproval. I think they're both probably right.
Ronnie and Nathan met in the Army. That's the short version of their story.
The longer version involves basic training and a deployment and the kind of friendship that apparently forms when you spend years of your life with someone in situations most people can't relate to.
I've heard bits and pieces over the years but neither of them talks about it much.
Ronnie will joke about it sometimes. Nathan almost never brings it up.
When they both got out Nathan moved to Pinehurst to be Ronnie's roommate and from there he just became part of the group.
He didn't grow up here. He's from Hannaford which is about forty minutes away.
But he fits. He's been around long enough now that it would feel strange if he wasn't there.
Everyone shows up within about twenty minutes of each other. Blake and I get there first. Then Sierra and Chase arrive together because they live near each other. Sierra will clarify that they are not dating if you give her even the smallest opening to do so. Alana comes next. Then Hailey.
Hailey walks in wearing jeans and a sweater and her blonde hair is down and she looks the way she always looks. Tall and pretty and put together. She hugs Sierra. She waves at Chase. She squeezes past Blake on her way to the kitchen and he barely glances at her.
She sits down next to me on Ronnie's couch and crosses her legs and asks me how work was this week.
"Busy," I say. "I had a color correction that took two hours."
"Box color?"
"Box color."
"Those poor women. Just come to a professional."
"That's what I keep saying."
This is how it is with Hailey. We're not best friends.
We don't call each other every day or share every detail of our lives.
But we've known each other since high school and she's part of the group and I like her well enough.
She's easy to talk to. She laughs at the right times.
She doesn't make everything about herself.
I have no reason not to trust her.
Nathan comes out of the kitchen carrying beers. He's got four of them in his hands with his fingers hooked through the necks of the bottles. He hands one to Ronnie and one to Chase and one to Blake. Then he sits down in the armchair across from the couch and opens the last one for himself.
Someone brings up a game from earlier in the week.
Chase starts talking about a play in the fourth quarter and Blake immediately jumps in and suddenly four of them are having a heated conversation about a defensive collapse that I have absolutely no interest in following.
Sierra leans toward me and says she'd rather watch paint dry.
Alana is on her phone pretending to care.
Then Nathan speaks. He hasn't said anything in probably five minutes.
He's just been sitting there drinking his beer and listening.
But without looking up he says something so dry and unexpected about the game that the room goes quiet for about a second before everyone starts laughing.
Even Blake. Even Chase who was in the middle of making a very serious point about the secondary coverage.
Nathan just sits there looking slightly pleased with himself. He takes a sip of his beer and doesn't acknowledge the laughter at all.
I watch him for a moment. He's good-looking.
He's always been good-looking. He's tall enough that he has to angle himself through Ronnie's kitchen doorway.
He keeps his black hair short which is a leftover habit from the Army.
And he has this way of being quiet for long stretches and then saying the exact right thing at the exact right moment.
You never see it coming and that's what makes it so funny.
I notice all of this and then I let it go.
I'm engaged. I love Blake. Nathan is Ronnie's roommate and he's part of the group and he's funny and handsome and none of that changes the fact that I'm wearing a ring on my left hand.
I've never been the kind of person who lets her eyes wander just because someone attractive is in the room.
The night goes on. More drinks. More conversation.
Hailey tells a story about a coworker who accidentally sent a personal email to the entire company and everyone groans and laughs.
Alana complains about her landlord raising her rent again and Blake says landlords are all the same which is ironic coming from someone who can't make his full contribution to our savings but I don't say that out loud.
Ronnie suggests we all go camping before summer ends and Sierra immediately says she will not be sleeping on the ground under any circumstances.
Chase tells her sleeping on the ground builds character.
Sierra tells Chase his character is fine and she'd prefer a hotel room and a shower that works.
It's a good night. These are my people. This is my life. It's small and ordinary and I love it.
Around eleven Blake says he's ready to go. I grab my jacket and say goodbye to everyone. Nathan catches my eye on the way out and gives me a quick nod. I nod back.
Blake drives us home. He's had three beers but he says he feels fine.
I don't love it but I also don't want to start another argument tonight.
When we get back to the apartment I change into pajamas and wash my face and get into bed.
Blake stays in the living room. I can hear the TV on low volume through the bedroom wall.
About twenty minutes later he comes in. He plugs his phone into the charger on his nightstand and gets undressed and climbs into bed next to me. He smells faintly like beer and the deodorant he puts on in the morning that has mostly worn off by now.
I'm close to falling asleep. My eyes are heavy and my body is tired from standing at the salon all day. But something tugs at the back of my brain. A small thing. Almost nothing.
When we first got home Blake had been sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone. I walked past him on my way to the bathroom. I wasn't trying to see his screen. I wasn't looking for anything. I just happened to glance down the way you glance at anything that's right in front of you.
He turned his phone facedown. Fast.
His thumb hit the power button and flipped the phone over before I even finished my step. He didn't look up at me. He didn't say anything. He just moved and then the screen was gone.
It was quick and casual and it could mean absolutely nothing. Maybe he was shopping for something he didn't want me to see. Maybe he was looking at a birthday gift. Maybe he just didn't want me reading over his shoulder because nobody likes that.
But the speed of it stays with me. Not the action. The speed. The automatic quality of it. His thumb moved before his brain had time to decide whether it needed to.
I lie in the dark and listen to Blake's breathing. He falls asleep before I do. He always does.
I tell myself it was nothing.
I almost believe it.