Rhodes #3
"I worried about leaving her more than I worried about anything else. The whole time I was gone, I knew if something was really wrong, you'd tell me."
The beer tastes like nothing.
“Cooper, you’re exaggerating. Stop it, already.”
"I mean it." He looks over now. "Thanks."
I nod once, and he turns back toward the street. The lie isn't in what I say. That's the worst part.
I don't tell him I haven't talked to Tallulah since April, or that she slept in my bed every night before everything fell apart.
I don't tell him Italy changed everything, or that I was too much of a coward to admit it while he called from Spain and thanked me for being the one person he trusted with her.
She asked me not to tell him, so I hold onto that as the least I can do for her at this point. It would be easy to dress it up as honesty now. And it would be easier, still, to tell myself he deserves the truth.
But it isn't mine to give.
Coop taps his bottle against mine.
"To surviving college."
"Cheers."
We finish the beers and go inside before the mosquitoes carry us off.
Saturday starts late. Coop sleeps until ten, then complains about my coffee.
We meet Deuce and Nash for lunch near campus and spend two hours listening to Deuce explain why Loyola baseball is going to run the conference next spring despite the fact that he played his last game three weeks ago.
Deuce points a fry at Coop. “Good to have you back, Coop. Rhodes has been insufferable since his little domestic era ended.”
Coop snorts. “Domestic era?”
“You know. Roommate life. Cooking. Cleaning. Becoming a respectable citizen.”
I kick Deuce under the table.
“Ow, asshole.”
Ford looks up from his beer and meets my eyes. They both know. I'm sure Jo told Ford, and it went from there.
I’m suddenly very aware that Cooper is the only person at this table who has no idea what Deuce is actually joking about.
By three, Coop and I are back at the house. He drops onto the couch and kicks his shoes off.
"God, I've missed this city."
He pulls out his phone and starts scrolling. I go into the kitchen and open the refrigerator.
"Tilly and Jo signed their lease," he says.
My hand stops on the water pitcher.
"For fall?"
"Yeah. Place off Broadway, I think. Or maybe Pine. Somewhere over by campus."
I pour the water.
"Good for them."
"She's staying at Oak Moss most of the summer, though. Dad says she practically lives outside."
I close the refrigerator.
That's more than I've known in weeks. I don't ask anything else, and Coop keeps scrolling.
"She sent me a picture yesterday. Whole bank's flagged up like somebody threw pink confetti through the marsh."
I turn toward the sink and drink half the glass.
"You want to see?"
Every part of me does. "No, I'm good."
He looks up.
"You hate marsh pictures now?"
"I've seen marsh."
"Fair."
He goes back to his phone.
I grip the edge of the counter until the urge to ask him how she looked passes. And that's when he answers the phone. I know immediately it's Tallulah. I walk out to the garage to mess with my bike because I don't want to pretend anymore.
About fifteen minutes later, he walks out.
"There you are. I didn't know where you disappeared to."
"Everything good?" I ask.
The question is out, and I immediately want to take it back. Fuck. His eyes flick toward me.
"Yeah. Why?"
"No reason."
He shrugs. "She's tired. Working like crazy on the property, living in Oak Moss, and happy. That's all we care about."
Happy. "Good. I'm glad things are going well for her."
Coop leans against the workbench. "You know what's weird?"
"What?"
"She didn't ask about you."
My hand stops on the rag. "Why would she?"
"I don't know. You two lived together for months. I figured she'd at least ask what you were up to."
I fold the rag once. "Maybe she doesn't care."
"Maybe."
The word lands harder than it should. Coop pushes off the bench. "I'm starving. You want to order something?"
"Yeah."
He walks inside. I stay in the garage another minute, giving my heart rate some time to settle down.
Tallulah asked me for one thing after everything fell apart. She wanted space. So I gave it to her.
Even when Cooper is standing ten feet away with every answer I want sitting on the tip of his tongue, when one question could tell me whether she misses me, I don't ask.
Sunday morning, Coop has his duffel packed before I finish coffee.
His new job starts tomorrow. Some marine operations position with a Charleston outfit that apparently liked his Spain work enough to offer him the job before he finished the program.
He comes into the kitchen dressed in jeans and a polo, keys already in his hand.
"Come visit me in Charleston."
"I will."
"You always say that."
"I'll come visit. Promise"
The rideshare pulls up in front of the house, and he's gone. I stand in the doorway until the car turns at the corner.
In Charleston on Monday, he starts a new job and a new life.
He asked me to come visit, and I told him I would. Maybe I will.
For now, I close the door on the quiet house and leave Tallulah's secret where she asked me to leave it.