Out of Nowhere(85)

I don’t know if I meant to or not, but once I’d taken the first handful, I climbed into bed and the bottle was just out of reach. I couldn’t make myself move enough to grab it, just fell into a dreamless oblivion where things were okay because there was only blackness. I remember Daniel hovering over me, but that’s about all. He just did that sometimes.





“WHAT IF it’s an emergency?” Rafe asks. He brought his mother’s tamales and stories of her arguing with Luz about letting Cam hang out with boys back with him last night.

We’re walking down the beach at sunset—Rafe’s idea—and I’ve just ignored a third call from Daniel. I guess I shouldn’t have texted him to tell him I’m alive after all. But he sounded so scared in his message.

“I’m never the one Daniel would call if he had an emergency. Besides, he’s in Michigan.”

Rafe just raises his eyebrows at me, but he gets distracted by the sunset. He seems to have kind of a thing for them.

After dinner, I get Rafe to watch Cabin in the Woods with me. He got it at the video store before he went back to Philly and clearly didn’t think he’d have to watch it. He’s holding Shelby in front of his face to block the movie and then pretending like he’s just playing with her.

“You can turn it off,” I tell him finally. “I’ve seen it. I mean, thanks for getting it for me and everything, but you don’t have to watch.”

“Shit’ll give me nightmares,” he mutters, but he doesn’t turn it off.





WHEN I get out of the shower the next morning, Rafe’s sitting on the side of the bed looking guilty as hell. I freeze.

“What?”

“Um.” He cuts his eyes to the bedside table, but the only things that’re there are my phone and a half-empty glass of water.

“Dude, you’re freaking me out,” I tell him. “What’s going on?”

“I talked to your brother last night. Daniel.”

“What? Why?”

“He called at one in the morning, babe, and I just—I was worried. He obviously really wanted to get in touch with you.”

“So?”

Rafe reaches out a hand and pulls me to stand between his knees. “He’s in Philly. Staying with his friend Ginger. He says he’s in town until the day after tomorrow and he’d really like to see you. Talk.”

Rafe strokes up and down my sides, then settles his hands on my hips, looking up at me. “He didn’t….”

“What?”

“He didn’t know where you live.”

“Why would he need to know where I live?” I lean away from Rafe, but he grabs my ass and pulls me toward him, pressing his chin to my chest and looking up at me.

“Rafe,” I warn.

He sighs. “I told him he should come to your house tomorrow evening so you two could talk.”

“What the hell?” I pull away from him, and this time he lets me. Out the window, the ocean pulls itself against the sand again and again like always.

Then Rafe’s arms come around me from behind. He rubs his lips against my hair and it drags through his stubble. I should really cut it.

“What are you thinking?” he asks.

A simple question but it seems impossible to answer—like a row of dominos I’ll knock over if I touch one. That I’ve always thought of Philly as home, but the idea of going back makes my heart race and sweat prickle under my arms. That work is the one thing that’s always been a constant in my life, and now it’s gone. Or different, anyway. That I don’t know how we’ll keep the shop going without Pop. Will one of us take over as the boss? Do we just go on with it like nothing’s changed? Or could we take the opportunity to make some changes? Jesus, what kind of a son thinks of his father’s death as a chance to make business decisions? But it’s not about the business. Not really. It’s the future.

Brian and Sam were horrified when I brought up the idea of taking on different kinds of clients. But was that them, or was it just because they didn’t think Pop would like it? Will they feel different now? I don’t know. I don’t even know how they are. I hope Brian hasn’t been sitting around Pop’s house all alone. I guess it’s his house now. Shit, is the house paid off? I don’t know. Does Brian know? He helped pay the bills, but I don’t know if he had anything to do with the mortgage. I should ask Sam. But should I—

Rafe spins me around by my shoulders and cups my face so he can see my eyes.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he says, tapping my temple.

I open my mouth, not sure what’s going to come out. “I don’t want to leave.”