Chapter 19 #2
I looked at the fire, the orange blue flicker of it, and felt the strange warmth of being understood for the first time in what felt like years.
“But I won’t shut down the Weston Company.
More than just the employees would suffer.
The whole town would be decimated, I see that now.
And there’s a lot of good people who live here. ”
Terri nodded. “It’s good you have a conscious about such things.”
I mumbled, “I didn’t until very recently.”
Terri said, “What was that?”
“Nothing.”
Sal gave me a side-eye, then smiled. “Thanks for explaining. I see you’ve got really good reasons.”
“Do I?” I asked, more to myself than anyone.
Sal didn’t miss a beat. “Yes. And if you need someone to demolish that mansion, Terri knows a guy.”
I choked on my coffee. “Thank you, Terri.”
He shrugged, “He’ll be happy to do it. He doesn’t love much in this world more than knocking buildings down. Brings him a lot of joy. And I know someone at the permit office who can speed things up for you, if needs be.”
* * *
After my sharing session, the guys returned and we finally ate dinner. It was late, but no one seemed to care about that.
Presently, the night air shocked me out of my Christmas-coma, the windless cold smacking my cheeks. The porch light behind us cast a faint oval onto the trampled snow. The walk to Alaric’s SUV wasn’t so bad since he’d tucked me under his arm to hold me close.
During, I felt my lips tug a few times, remembering something Terri had said in the dining room about “men with small hands never making good fudge,” which, in the moment, seemed scandalous. My brain was soft and doughy, the byproduct of too much food, too many stories.
Alaric unlocked the car with a beep and opened the passenger door for me. “You seem happy.”
I paused, the words strange and unfamiliar, as if they’d been addressed to someone standing just behind me.
Then I realized my face had been unconsciously smiling all the way down the walk.
The sensation was so novel I almost lost it, but instead, I let myself keep grinning and said, “I really like Terri.”
He helped me in, shut the door gently, and walked around to the driver’s side.
As he started the engine, the heater fan kicked on with the same lazy self-confidence as everything in this part of Texas.
“I’m sure he’d be happy to have you stop by anytime, since you’re so good at fixing trains. Sal, too.”
That made me chuckle, and it was an honest, deep-lunged chuckle. “I have a knack for it. Maybe I missed my calling.”
Alaric put the car in reverse, then idled, the dash lights strobing his face in blue and green.
He checked the mirrors, then slid the gear into drive and eased us away from the curb.
I settled back against the seat and closed my eyes, still smiling, and realized that what I wanted most in this moment was to be back at Alaric’s house, alone, with him, picking up exactly where we’d left off in the shed before Rex had interrupted us.
We hadn’t really discussed it since. In the swirl of food and family, it had gotten shoved to the back of the mental fridge, but now, with just the two of us and the low white noise of the road, it felt possible. Even, maybe, inevitable.
“So,” I said, letting my hand drift toward the center console, close enough to his that if he wanted to, he could take it, “is that it? Are we done for the day? No more destination surprises?”
Not quite smiling, he said, “I don’t know about that, but we are finished visiting folks.”
The words hung in the car and I found myself chewing on them for longer than was probably normal. “So, you really were just taking me around today to visit with people.”
He kept his eyes on the road, but his voice was as soft. “As I said, I wanted you to be around people who value you, right now. And maybe also see what other people we both know were up to, how they spend the holidays. Sometimes it’s good to get a peek into what’s possible for yourself.”
I twisted in my seat to face him more directly, surprised by how much I wanted to interrogate this. “You mean Rex and Abby and their little happy family?”
He nodded, but the answer came with more shading than I expected. “Yes, and no. I hope you saw there’s many versions of happy that exist in the world, and usually most of them include some kind of community.”
I let that sit for a while, watching the line of houses slip past the window, their rooflines dark and silent except for the occasional pulse of a motion sensor light or the lazy flicker of a distant TV.
“But almost every example you showed me was of people who are paired up. Are you suggesting that I need a significant other for happiness?”
He laughed, the sound quick and genuine, and glanced at me sideways. “Not at all. To be honest, I didn’t have much time to pull this all together. But that’s a good note. In retrospect, I see I should’ve included a greater level of diversity in our visits today.”
“Maybe some found-families and friend groups? Or perhaps a knitting circle or a book club?” I tried to keep my tone light, but the words stuck a little.
I was a little afraid of what happened when our three days were over.
Alaric was so good at socializing, and everyone seemed to like him so much.
Whereas I’d struggled as a kid and teen.
Although I’d had some luck in my twenties, I was now several years out of practice.
What if. . . what if no one likes me or wants to know me?
“Bowling leagues are supposed to have amazing Christmas parties,” he said, and this time I did laugh.
We drove in silence for a bit. The subdivision gave way to the wider, empty streets that led back toward town.
Here, the houses were spaced out, and the occasional gas station or strip mall appeared, dotting the side of the road.
The world had gone into pre-Christmas hibernation, and for a minute, it felt like we were the only two people awake.
I stared out at the blankness, then back at Alaric. “I know I don’t have a big community, or even much of a community right now. I know I’ve been bad at fostering one.”
He didn’t say anything, just adjusted his grip on the steering wheel and kept his eyes on the night ahead.
After a while, I said, “You think, if I spent more time building community, contributing to it and fostering it, I’d be happier. That was the real point of today.”
He nodded once, slow and deliberate. “If that’s your take home message, then so be it.”
There was something different in his voice now, a thickness, and as we turned onto the highway, he was suddenly serious, almost absentminded, like he was wrestling an equation in his head. “Time’s almost up.”
I blinked, thrown by the shift in mood. “Are we trying to get home by a certain time?”
He nodded again, this time with a heaviness I didn’t like at all. “Yes.” The word sounded heavy somehow, as though he were weighing how much more to say.
I tried to catch his eye, but he was all profile and shadow now, illuminated by the occasional oncoming headlights. “We are going home, right?”
He gave me a tight nod and I noticed how tired he suddenly looked. Of course he’s tired, he’s been chaperoning you for days.
Alaric drove with both hands, knuckles pale in the dashboard light, and the silence between us stretched thin and sharp, not at all comfortable like it had been before.