7. Leo （Now）
Leo (Now)
Leo clocked Mike’s look the minute he opened the door to his apartment. The couch was too narrow. The space was too quiet. Mike took it all in like he was looking for the exits first.
“Didn’t picture this being your kind of place for some reason,” Mike commented casually.
It just went to show Mike knew nothing about him, that they were strangers.
The place had been good enough when Leo first moved out of the house, but with so much time spent at the station year after year, he’d never grown out of the place.
If Mike was implying this was a bachelor pad, he may have been right.
The open pizza box sitting on the kitchen counter from this morning, the lack of wall art and the hodgepodge of furniture, the ARFD sweaters and t-shirts strewn everywhere because laundry day was supposed to be today—he could see it through his military-raised brother’s eyes.
But he had to give himself credit, too. It was cozy in that familiar, lived-in kind of way.
Affordable and just the right size to decompress after long shifts.
Within walking distance from everything he needed.
He made sure it always smelled clean in here even if it didn’t look it.
Leo motioned for Mike to follow, grabbed him a water from the fridge, moved aside the laundry pile and laid out a blanket on the couch.
“Bathroom’s here,” he said, showing him the narrow space. All of his things were spread out here, too. He’d have to tackle clean-up in here later. “I’m sure we’ll figure this out as we go, man.”
“Thanks,” Mike said, nodding. “I won’t be any trouble.”
But Leo knew trouble came in all kinds of flavors. An estranged brother returning unannounced was one of them.
“Let’s chat a bit,” Leo suggested.
Mike took a seat on the couch and slipped off his backpack. Leo sat on the armchair nearby.
“So Autumn Ridge feels pretty much the same,” Mike started, “which is refreshing. Anything you want to fill me in on?”
“Yeah, about that.” Leo winced. “Dale passed away in January. But Lynne doesn’t want to talk about it. Not yet. I’d say don’t bring it up unless she does first, but I don’t think she’s going to bring it up anytime soon.”
Mike’s jaw dropped. He had the look of a man who was not only just now processing his misstep back at the bar but also in disbelief. He rested his head in his hands. “I am such a fuck-up.”
Leo reflexively wanted to tell Mike no, he wasn’t a fuck-up. But there was something deeper in his tone. Something that weighed heavier than the news of Dale’s death. “What happened, man? Why did you come back here?”
Mike shifted on the couch, eyes wandering the apartment and his teeth biting at the inside of his cheek. His eyes started welling up again.
“I lost someone I was responsible for,” Mike said quietly, fist hiding his mouth. “A dog in my K-9 unit. It was all my fault, Leo. And after that, everything else kind of fell apart.”
Unlike Lynne, who he knew so well, Leo didn’t know what to say to his estranged older brother in this moment.
He felt sad for him, of course. Mike had clearly been through it.
They’d had a dog when they were growing up.
Ranger, a Labrador who got hit by a car.
He remembered those feelings like it was yesterday, but he could only imagine the added guilt Mike must be carrying.
He was still at a loss, trying to absorb all this new information.
He didn’t know Mike well enough to know what he needed to hear.
“It’s okay,” Leo whispered.
“I just needed to be somewhere that didn’t know me as that guy. Maybe I could start fixing everything I broke on my way out the door here. Maybe start fixing me.” He sniffed back the tears that threatened to undo him and quickly changed the subject. “So you and Lynne—you’re … close now?”
Leo stiffened and nodded. “You could say that.”
“Like you’re together?”
Leo eyed Mike carefully. “Let’s just put this all out on the table, Mike. Did you come back for her?”
Mike’s eyes widened. “No, God, no. I just—” He took a deep breath.
“Sorry. You don’t owe me an answer to that.
My only intent in coming back here was to get away from where I was—physically, mentally.
And I remembered Dale being, well, one of the best people I’d ever met.
It sucks that he’s not even in the world anymore. ”
“You can say that again.”
Leo and Mike both stared at the floor.
“Anyway,” Mike continued, “I just thought he’d have some connections, that he could help me find a place to stay quickly.
I didn’t ask you because, obviously, we don’t really know each other anymore.
I’m sure I already made it weird by texting ‘Happy birthday’ after so long, but my plan—my plan was to get in touch with Dale first. Then get settled.
Then I’d ask if you wanted to meet up sometime.
I really intended that.” He shook his head and let out a long sigh.
“I probably should tell you this now. Just don’t be mad at her.
Mom’s been sending me everyone’s addresses and phone numbers ever since I left, anytime something changed.
But I couldn’t ask her for a place to crash.
When she reaches out, it’s like she’s checking in for her annual wellness exam at the doctor’s office.
She doesn’t want to do it, but she knows she probably should.
So we keep it as brief and to-the-point as possible. ”
Something coiled uneasily inside Leo, the feeling of betrayal. He’d had no idea his mom had been in contact with Mike all this time or that she was giving out their information. And it tightened further when he realized Mike could’ve reached out before now and hadn’t.
He couldn’t help himself when he asked, “Why didn’t you talk to me, Mike? All this time? I was ten when you left. I don’t even know what I could’ve done to deserve that.”
Mike’s expression turned to stunned then deeply saddened.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It wasn’t you at all, Leo.
You did nothing. After Dad died and I wasn’t at the funeral, it was hard for Mom and me to really talk—like ever again.
It’s just been the occasional text ever since.
You can imagine how weird it would’ve been to call her and ask to speak to you. ”
“But you should’ve tried. I lost my dad and a brother in the span of one week.”
“I know. I know,” he repeated softer. “I’m the asshole here, Leo.
I mean it. I should’ve tried harder. You didn’t deserve that.
I’m sorry.” He wrung his hands together then gripped the dog tags in his palm until his knuckles went white.
“And I get if you don’t want me to stay here.
I can find a hotel. But I’m also … really tired.
If I can just crash on your couch for a bit, I’ll find a way to get out of your hair.
Whatever you want to happen between us next makes sense to me.
I understand.” He let out one more heavy sigh and wiped a hand across his forehead.
He really did look exhausted, Leo thought.
“I’m sorry I dropped this on you. I didn’t mean to. ”
Leo stood from the armchair and picked up Mike’s tattered backpack, placing it on the floor beside him.
“Get some rest,” he told Mike. “We’ll talk more later.
I’ve gotta make some calls anyway. Just before you came by, Lynne found a whole litter of stray kittens hidden in O’Donnell’s utility closet.
My cat’s probably to blame. But that’s why I was over there.
You just showed up at a really weird moment. ”
“I see,” Mike said. “Well, if you two need any help later, let me know.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Mike was already taking off his shoes, easing into the couch cushions, and throwing the blanket over his legs. “Is it okay if the TV’s on while I sleep? I kind of need the noise.” He yawned as he settled in. “And it’s a little cold in here.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
He grabbed the remote and turned on the television, switching to some channel that replayed funny social media clips all day.
But he could already tell it was going to be a battle of preferences while Mike lived here.
Leo liked his sleep dark, cold, and dead-quiet, like he was hidden in a cocoon.
He never understood how some guys at the station rested so well during slow shifts.
There were always dishes clanging, murmurs from the common area, washing machine buzzers, and laughter competing with the quiet.
He brought earplugs to his shifts but, otherwise, just wrote off the possibility of sleep at the station.
When he pulled his phone out of his pocket, he saw several missed messages and calls.
He stepped into the hallway to take care of them.
But where to even start? Something about needing to feed mama cat kitten food instead of Fred’s food.
Something about Ethan and Cali going out for supplies and wanting to swing by his place.
Something about the vet’s office being closed until they hired a new vet.
Leo sighed with frustration as he scrolled. One of his coworkers even texted to ask if the kittens were okay. Apparently Minka had been telling everyone at the café about the litter this morning.
Lynne had been surprisingly quiet since Leo left O’Donnell’s, though.
He wanted to call and check in on her first, but his fingers hesitated over her contact info.
If he called now, without food or supplies, without readying the apartment for Mike, without a plan for what time he could head back to help, he’d just be toying with Lynne.
So he dialed Ethan’s number instead and told him he’d meet him and Cali in the alley behind his apartment once they were done shopping.
Then he spent some time powering through laundry, stocking his fridge and pantry with groceries he thought Mike might like, and stripping his identity from his bathroom just enough Mike could utilize the space, too.
Mike was still sound asleep on the couch when he finished, so he wrote him a note about where to find things.
Still nothing from Lynne yet, so he dialed her number.
“Your hoodie helped me lure Fred upstairs,” she told him. “He’s sleeping on the couch as we speak. But I still can’t convince mama cat.” Her voice sounded frail and defeated. “What if I can’t get them all upstairs before I open tomorrow, Leo?”
“I’m headed over soon. We’ll figure it out. Glad Fred’s upstairs for now at least. Just watch your window screens. I don’t know if he’s talented enough to scale down a drainpipe to the first story, but I wouldn’t put it past him.”
She huffed. “You’re in luck. No screens. Actually, I’m not sure these windows open anymore.”
Leo raised an eyebrow. “Um, that’s a code violation.
But, also, I’m relieved to hear Fred won’t slip out while we’re managing this.
” His brain momentarily tripped over the word “we.” It had been a long time since he’d said that about the two of them.
“We,” as in the book club? Yes. “We,” as in The Nine?
Yes. But “we,” as in just him and her? He didn’t realize how much he missed the feeling that word gave him. “On my way, with the stuff, of course.”
“Great. See you soon.”
When Leo stepped inside the apartment to grab another ARFD sweater, he took one more glance at Mike.
The worried wrinkles in his forehead had softened, and his mouth hung open as he snored.
The blanket was tucked right beneath his chin, but one of his hands was loose and peeking out from underneath its edge.
He slept like someone who’d finally outrun whatever was chasing him.
It might not be gone forever, Leo thought, but at least someone was safe tonight.
He glanced down at Lynne’s name on his phone screen one more time and grabbed the bags of supplies. He knew where he needed to be.