Chapter Four
“The only good thing to come from this is big breasts,” Dad says, staring out the hospital window.
I’ve been here for two weeks, and he’s still confused and weak. A few days ago, he could walk up and down the hallway with help. Today, he’s had a catheter inserted, which will probably give him another urinary tract infection.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, sliding his plate of meat loaf closer, hoping he’ll eat something. He’s lost a lot of weight. The fat is gone, and his muscles are melting away.
“Your mom. When she’s pregnant, her boobs get enormous.” He holds up his hands and cups them like he’s squeezing invisible breasts.
“Mom’s not pregnant.”
He narrows his eyes. “She is. I don’t think it’s mine, but I don’t want to start a fight, so I’m just going to raise the damn kid as my own.”
It’s not funny. He’s unwell. But I can’t help but snort behind my hand fisted at my mouth. “Well”—I clear my throat to compose myself—“that’s really nice of you.”
My phone vibrates, and I pull it from my back pocket.
Fitz: When do u come home
Will: 2 weeks
Fitz: K
Will: Why
Fitz: Don’t worry about it. We’ll discuss when u get home
Will: Discuss what
Fitz: Your new roommate
Will: ????
Fitz: Give your parents my best
Will: Knock it off asshole. What’s going on
“Thatcher, I’m giving you a bath today,” the nurse says, sauntering into the room in burgundy scrubs and white Hokas. “I can come back to do it later.” She eyes me and smiles.
“You can do it now. I’m leaving.”
“I don’t need a bath. I’m not having sex.” Dad takes a bite of his meat loaf with a shaky hand.
The nurse presses her lips together, and I close my eyes for a few seconds, slowly shaking my head.
“Sally took my wallet. When is she bringing it back?” he asks.
“Who’s Sally?” I ask.
“That nurse with the nose ring.”
I look at the nurse without the nose ring.
She takes his fork when he hands it to her. “Thatcher, your wife has your wallet. It’s safe with her.”
“Dad, enjoy your bath.” I rest my hand on his shoulder and kiss the top of his balding head. A sheen of oil has matted what little hair remains. He definitely needs a bath.
When I make eye contact with the nurse, I realize enjoy might have sounded inappropriate. “What I meant was behave. Okay?”
Dad stares at the window. “That bird was here yesterday.”
There’s no bird.
“Love you,” I say.
He returns a slow nod, staring blankly at the birdless window.
As soon as I step into the hallway, I call Fitz. He doesn’t answer, so I call Jamie.
“Hey! How’s your dad?”
“Where’s Fitz?”
“Uh, maybe on his way home. Did you try calling him?”
“He texted me. What’s up with my new renter?”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“Has she done something to my place?”
“I don’t think so. Did Fitz say something?”
“It’s what he didn’t say.”
Jamie laughs. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two. There’s nothing to worry about. Your new renter is lovely.”
“You’ve met her?” I press the elevator button half a dozen times.
“Uh, yeah. How’s your dad?”
“He’s full of shit. What’s up with the new renter? You’re all terrible liars. What aren’t you telling me?” I step into the elevator.
“Did you hear a curling iron started the fire in Everleigh’s house?”
“I did not. Quit changing the subject.”
“She lost her canary. Did you or your guys notice the cage when you went into the house?”
“Is that what this is about? Fitz is pissed because I suggested Everleigh stay with you, so he’s trolling me about my new roommate when there’s really no issue? Has Everleigh not moved out of your house?”
“Oh, yeah. She moved out.”
I step off the elevator and head to the exit. “How pissed off was he?”
“A lot at first, but he’s fine now.”
“Then why is he trolling me?” I look both ways and cross the street to my vehicle.
“Why does Fitz do anything?” She laughs.
“Well, I appreciate you taking Everleigh in. I felt bad for her.” I climb into my red Bronco, immediately rolling down my windows because it’s so hot.
“You did? Then why didn’t you suggest her staying at your place? After all, you were leaving for a month. You have two spare bedrooms and a she shed.”
“You know why I couldn’t offer her a place to stay.” I glance in my mirror and pull into traffic.
“I do?”
“Jamie . . .”
“If this is about your taking her virginity and then crushing her heart, that was years ago. I’m sure she’s moved on, and so have you.”
“Jaymes, she brought it up the night of the fire. That woman will never let it go. I hate talking about it. Everyone thinks it’s funny, but I saw my whole life flash before my eyes when I found out.”
“Will, that’s a little extreme.”
“It’s not. But whatever. Just drop it for good. Okay?”
“I’ll do my best. Just let me reiterate one last time: I really think she’s moved on. In fact, I think the two of you could be friends.”
I laugh. “Well, there’s no need for that, but I love that you’re a peacemaker. I’ve always said Fitz is one lucky bastard, and he doesn’t deserve you.”
“Aw, I love you. Don’t you ever forget that. Not now. Not when you get home.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
“I didn’t say it like anything. Love you. Gotta go. I have cookies in the oven for Fitz.”
“Is it wrong that I hope his parachute fails so that I can be there for you? Then you’ll make me cookies as a thank-you. If it turns into grief sex, so be it.”
“That’s probably why Fitz was reaching out to you. He wants to know you’re going to meet my sexual needs if he dies.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
Jamie giggles. “Bye, Will.”
I end the call with a big grin on my face. Why do I need a wife and children when I have friends like Jamie and Fitz?
Over the following weeks, my dad goes into skilled care, and I install grab bars in the bathrooms and a railing at the front door for if (when) he returns.
Then we find a comfy leather lift chair for his room at the care facility.
For now, I hope he’ll level out and be okay, but I haven’t ruled out moving closer, if he declines more and Mom needs me.
The drive back to Missoula is bittersweet. I’ve enjoyed spending time with my mom, even though she steered most of our conversations toward my love life. But I’m ready to return to work, my friends, and my house.
From the second I try to pull into the garage, the first red flag pops up. There must be ten thousand dollars’ worth of home gym equipment, including a machine cage, free weights, kettlebells, and medicine balls.
It’s nice. I wouldn’t mind using it, but it’s taking up my whole garage.
When I open the back door, I smell the mess before I see it. Pungent and foul. I search for the source of the rotten stench. Dirty dishes fill the sink. There’s an open bag of bread by the stove next to a bottle of ranch salad dressing and an empty plastic cheese bag.
Coffee grounds on the floor.
A pair of pink sneakers in front of the fridge.
A laptop on the kitchen table beside a plate with a half-eaten piece of toast and an abandoned cup of coffee.
“What. The. Fuck?” I set my bag on the wooden floor. “Hello?” I call.
Nothing.
I’m not a neat freak, but a certain level of tidiness among roommates is just common decency.
A little dust on the bay window shades? No biggie.
Is my living room slightly overpacked with old brown leather furniture and a repurposed tree trunk coffee table on casters?
Perhaps. The beige carpet is old and worn.
There’s a buck’s head on the wall. It’s clear that a man lives here. But it’s not squalor.
I pivot and head straight to the red she shed, knocking on the door.
Nothing.
I turn the knob, surprised to find it unlocked.
“No.” I cringe. “No. No. Hell no.” I stab my fingers into my hair while inspecting the inside of the shed.
There’s a bed, but I can’t see it beneath the pile of bags overflowing with clothes.
Tags strewn all over the navy-painted floor, along with shoes, some in and some out of their boxes.
Stacks of books cover the dresser, and the plant that’s been on the windowsill for years has wilted. Who am I kidding? It’s dead.
Maren will be dead before long too.
Of course, when I try to call her, she doesn’t answer. Granted, she’s a tanker pilot, and it’s wildfire season, so I text her: Our friendship is over
Next, I try Jamie because I know Fitz is working fires too. Jamie doesn’t answer, but she gets a text from me as well.
Will: Never mind. If Fitz dies you’re on your own
Jamie: ???
Will: Pick up Your Phone
Jamie: Can’t I’m at an appointment
Will: My house is a fucking mess! So is the shed. And I can’t pull into my garage!!!
Jamie: Have you talked to your roommate
Will: I just got home. She’s not here
Jamie: Talk with her then we’ll talk
I frown at my phone, slam the shed door shut, and then take my bag to my room to unpack and shower.
After an unsuccessful attempt at washing off the anger, I throw on a pair of jeans and a gray T-shirt.
One beer doesn’t take the edge off, so I open another and clean the mess in the kitchen.
Just as I’m putting away the last dish and considering a third beer, the back door opens.
A hazel-eyed gaze locks with mine; red lips part into a soft O.
“What are you doing?” I squint at Everleigh Reichart.
She swallows and slowly shrugs; her mouth pulls into a nervous smile. “I’m just . . . home from work. How’s your dad?”
It takes longer than it should to do the math because I don’t want to hate my asshole friends, but I do. I hate every single one of them.
“No.” I shake my head. “This isn’t going to work.” I march toward her and shove my feet into my black boots.
“What’s not going to work?” Everleigh jogs behind me to the shed, feet swooshing through the grass that needs to be mowed, the smell of barbecue in the air from the neighbor’s grill.
“If you were going to stay here, I’d tell you to lock this damn door.” I open said door. “But you’re leaving, so it doesn’t matter.” I collect the stray clothes and shoes and stuff them into whatever bags have extra room.
“I signed a lease and paid the first and last month’s rent. You can’t kick me out. You let my house burn down with Marie Curie.” She rips a bag from one of my hands and a shoe from the other.
I freeze and glance up at her. She sets the bag and shoe on the bed, then slides her hands into the back pockets of her high-waisted, plaid-gray dress pants. Her wide belt has a shiny silver buckle, and her black sleeveless blouse accentuates her toned arms and perky breasts.
Fuck!
No. I will never think about her toned arms or perky breasts again. Maybe my mom is right. I need a steady relationship. Sex with one person. Then I can think of that one person all the time, and noticing things like toned arms and perky breasts will be a distant memory.
“I’m sorry that I’m merely a mortal firefighter.
I couldn’t save your house or your bird.
But that’s life. You left your curling iron plugged in.
I don’t owe you anything. It’s an insult to both of our intelligences to think for one second we can be roommates.
I left California, running as fast as I could just to get away from you.
And then I practically became a monk for the next three years as I waited for the fucking statute of limitations to run out.
I waited for the call or knock on my door.
Do you have any idea what that did to my psyche?
You should. You’re a goddamn psychiatrist! ”
She flinches. “Will—”
“You should have told me!”
Again she flinches, but this time, her back hits the door like my words physically propelled her into it. Tears fill her eyes.
I hate these fucking tears because they take me back to the girl I thought was the girl. My foolish heart made space for that girl. But I was so very wrong.