Chapter 22 #2
Chat continued apologizing as Danika studied the room, the flawless space and world she’d created. He scooted closer as he
talked, and as she glanced to him and down to her lap—her jeans, her white tank top—she couldn’t help but wonder: Did he still
think she was beautiful? She felt suddenly aware of the space on the couch between them.
She just missed Trey so fiercely—missed being young so fiercely. All that freedom and possibility. She didn’t let herself recognize the irony of how when she was young, all
she’d really wanted was to be settled.
But you never got to mourn the previous versions of yourself—they simply disappeared. You never knew the last time a stranger
would hit on you, the last time you’d kiss someone who was not your husband, the last day you were not a mom. It made Danika
sick how quickly you could slip into a brand-new life, a brand-new self, even one you’d been chasing. It was like that poem
she’d once read that said, “There is an age when you are most yourself.” She’d always liked that idea—though the problem was,
you’d never know at what age you were most yourself until it had passed.
Why was everything only clear at the end?
“Danika?” Chat said as she blinked.
She smoothed her hair with two hands as if coming up for air. “I don’t know what to say, Chat. I don’t know what to do. I
don’t trust that girl . . . and now . . . Can I trust you?”
Chat placed his hand between them, his palm up. “Danika. I promise. You can.”
Chat opened his hand wider, and a second later, she slipped hers into his. He grabbed it so fast, it was as if his palm were a flytrap. He pulsed her hand before letting it go. “It won’t happen again. We only have three weeks left together, and I really don’t want to ruin it.”
Danika didn’t know how to feel. She didn’t want to lose him, either—not to that girl, not to the end of summer.
“Well, four weeks,” she corrected, “if you count Hilton Head. I already got your ticket.” She smiled then; the ticket, after
all, was a gift. Even if they hadn’t talked details, Chat had said from the get-go he’d love to come—that he couldn’t wait
to see the ocean. Someplace new.
“Oh, yeah, right. Okay, I just, I wasn’t sure about Hilton Head, with the timing. My Europe flight and all, but maybe. Maybe
I can still make it work,” he said, backtracking.
Danika’s stomach churned. She immediately sensed he was staying behind for her. To spend more time with Augie.
Danika looked toward the windows, feeling disappointed—and even more, feeling embarrassed about feeling disappointed. Rejected. Why was she so desperate for his attention and approval? What did that say about her, how lonely she was?
Danika suddenly stood up, walked toward the windows, and crossed her arms tight. She stared out at the other empty houses,
her back to Chat. Her breath caught in her throat. But a beat later, as practiced, she flipped her hurt to rage.
“Okay, well, Chat”—her voice went cold as she turned to face him—“let’s focus on these last few weeks then, please? I know
the boys will be sad when you’re gone. So it’d be great if they—if we—could have your undivided attention. And I would appreciate
it if there were no more uninvited guests inside my home.”
Chat sucked in a breath, his face pale. “Yes, of course, Danika. I’m really—”
“No, Chat,” she cut him off. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I should know better by now. I should know the only person I can count on is myself.”
Chat closed his eyes.
“Though there is one thing I can’t do alone: I can’t move that dresser upstairs. So, let’s go, please.” Her voice shifted
abruptly to fake and cheery; it felt manic. “Chop, chop. I’m meeting someone tonight, and I need to get the hell out of here
by four.”
She walked past him up the stairs.
Danika was glad she’d told Joshua Mike to meet her at the dive bar out in Mankato. Now more than ever, she needed a drink—and
to get away.
The Drunken Moose was an hour south, known for its talking moose head and strong rail cocktails. She hadn’t been in years,
not since she and Bill went ironically, one night after they’d moved to Minnesota from Chicago. Danika felt another sense
of longing as she sat on a cracked red barstool, neon signs flickering in the dark above her. She ordered a double vodka.
Joshua Mike arrived a few minutes after. He went in for a hug, but Danika recoiled.
“Fine, fine, fine.” He pulled at the knot of his tie. His tan looked ashy in the low light. “I only thought since you invited
me, I’d try my luck. But I get this isn’t a date.”
Danika looked beyond him, watching men in flannel shirts laugh and shoot pool. Joshua Mike was out of place in his suit. Just get this over with, she told herself.
“I always knew you had a dive bar side to you.” Joshua ordered a whiskey, dropping a twenty on the bar. “Or you really don’t
want anyone to see us?”
“Thanks for meeting me.”
He pulled out a stool, sat, and took off his suit jacket, draping it over one knee. “Okay. I think I know where this is going,
but hit me with it. Jackie likes to talk, huh?”
“Josh.” Danika turned toward him, her legs opening as she swiveled on the stool; she didn’t stop them. At this point, who
cared? She would use whatever power she had left. She was too far gone. “What in God’s name is going on?”
Joshua Mike stared at her thighs, the space between them. He finished his whiskey in one gulp and knocked his glass against
the bar. He shifted his weight to face her, leaning on his arm. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk to your husband first?
He said he was going to talk to you. Not that I’m not happy to help. The offer stands.”
Danika tried not to react as the bartender refilled his glass. She gestured to hers, too.
“I have a feeling you’ll find out soon enough, so fine. I’ll get messy with ya. I’m only sorry this is what it took to spend
time with you. As I’ve always said, you’re the prettiest gal in Aldon Lakes.”
Danika kept her face stone.
“All right, fine, fine, fine. Here goes.”
Danika stayed quiet as he began to talk, drinking with an unsteady hand as she listened. He said that months ago, he’d overheard
Bill talking to his lawyer—
“Frank,” Danika interrupted.
“Yes, good ole Frank.” Joshua continued to say they were discussing a few deals Bill had been involved in—a few bad deals.
“Those St. Paul properties.” Josh Mike swung his head. “Bill was being reckless, if you ask me. But hey, you know what they
say, the bigger the risk, the bigger the reward. The problem was, he wasn’t hitting that reward. He hasn’t been for a while.
Though no one could have predicted COVID.
“So, I approached him. I told him I knew he’s going through it, and that he needed more investors for Briar Ridge.
I knew he didn’t want me involved . . . I’ve been blackballed lately, don’t ask me why .
. . but I have the cash, right? I told him I’ll buy the last forty percent.
Wyatt and Malcolm, they were being cheap, you know.
But I love those houses. I said I’d bring the money, but I also wanted you involved.
To help design, decorate. I knew you’d make it amazing.
I like your style. I also thought it would be fun, you
know, to be a team. I thought you’d enjoy it. I was looking out.”
Danika’s body went rigid.
“And I was right, of course! You’re killing it.”
Danika didn’t know what to say. Behind them, pool balls cracked like gunshots.
“But I digress.” He took a sip and smacked his lips. “Anyways, so there I am: I own the majority of Briar Ridge, and these
guys are being so dumb about everything. It’s not my first rodeo—I know we should reinvest the dividends rather than get a
payout—but these guys are being shortsighted. Then, Bill finally admits to me alone that he needs the cash. He finally came
clean. And, oh boy.” Joshua Mike exhaled in a whistle. “He’s in worse trouble than I thought. I hate the idea of y’all losing
your houses.”
Danika no longer felt tense now—only hollow.
“So, I tell Bill I’m happy to help. Nice guy I am. I tell him I’ll give him a loan. Even more, I offer to buy the cabin. And
Danika, if I’m being real with you, I’m only doing this because I care about you.” He leaned in closer as she angled her body
away.
“I know you’re special, D.” His voice was different.
“I want you to have a good life. That’s why, as I told Jackie, if Bill doesn’t take me up on my offer, and you end up on your own, I’d still help you out.
Whatever you need. A loan, a place to stay, you name it.
You’re a talent. It’d be an investment.”
Danika didn’t know how to make sense of anything, didn’t know how to feel. While she’d suspected things were worse than Bill
had let on—she’d never expected this. Losing their houses? Bill was supposed to be steady—they were supposed to be steady.
Josh studied her face. He waved for more drinks.
Yet as the bartender returned with the bottle, Danika stood. She hated him. She hated all of them. What she had said to Chat
was true: She couldn’t rely on anyone. She grabbed her purse.
“Oh, Danika, don’t be like that.” Joshua Mike slouched. “I feel bad, but it might be for the best, in the end, you know. I’m
here for you.”
She looked straight at him.
“I will never fuck you.”
Joshua Mike laughed. “I’d never say no, but really, that’s not what I’m after. I’m the one being honest here. Bill . . . he’s
the one lying. But, again, maybe it’s all for the best. Money isn’t everything, you know. Bill has his own demons.”
Danika felt even more sick—and also like she could grab the knife the bartender was using to slice limes and sink it into
his neck—but suddenly, she understood. She met Joshua Mike’s eyes directly, an icy clarity falling over her.
“Who is he sleeping with?”
Joshua Mike glanced up at the moose head on the wall—the one all those years ago Danika and Bill had watched together, singing
along to “Yellow Submarine”—and just like that, he told her.