Bren scrunched her eyes at me one last time before shrugging. “Definitely a wizard. I work nights, Tuesday through Saturday. I’d love to comp you a tasting flight if you come by, seeing as how the rent here is so reasonable. We probably owe you a few beers since you’re basically letting us rob you.”
I laughed, considering the offer. It had been a long time since I’d attempted to make friends outside the finance world. Since reconnecting with James, I’d realized how much I wanted that.
“I have to travel this weekend, but I’ll take you up on that when I get back.” Smiling, I gave a slight wave before resuming my task. Even after picking up the heavy chair and walking down the hallway, I felt lighter.
By the time I packed up my carto leave for Coleman Creek a few days later, I’d officially welcomed all fourteen of my tenants. Three units remained to lease out, but that would need to wait until after the new year. Since I had the time, I was acting as property manager for now. I’d contracted with a handymanservice in case quick repairs were necessary, but I didn’t expect to need much of that yet, since the interiors had been gutted and everything was essentially brand new.
I’d arranged all the furniture in my apartment and even hung up some of my paintings. They’d never looked right in my condo. I also put up a Christmas tree. It was small and plastic, nothing spectacular, but I’d never been inspired to have one before. I figured I could decorate it when I got back from my trip. Heck, I might even go nuts and hang up a stocking since I finally had a fireplace that looked like a fireplace and not an oversized stainless-steel toaster oven.
My parents had stopped launching daily objections to my living situation as well, so I felt cautiously optimistic this piece of my life was coming together.
Which left me free to overthink about Maureen. Seeing her in person and not behind a computer screen. I wondered if she would consider it a violation of our agreement that I’d watched her videos. But once James told me about them, how could I resist?
Even though it might be awkward, I couldn’t say I dreaded our upcoming interaction. Because in an ideal world, we’d be able to hash out what happened five years ago and move on from it. I still wanted that. Wanted to know Maureen in whatever way she’d let me.
I knew her anger was justified. I shuddered when I thought of how I’d compounded lies with self-serving silence. But I didn’t believe it was sustainable, given our connection to James and Marley.
If I’d been honest with Maureen that night at Denny’s, maybe things would have progressed differently. Even if we’d turned out to be incompatible, our intense spark an anomaly, I couldn’t help wishing we’d had the chance to find out.
Sure, I’d been with other women since Roz and I broke up, but when it came to how comfortable I felt with someone, how intrigued, how easily the conversation flowed, how invested I felt from the jump—Maureen was still the gold standard. I’d never been so immediately, magnetically pulled toward anyone, never felt that same buzz under my skin.
I’d sensed that wild energy with her five years ago, and I’d felt a ghost of it last Christmas, when we’d been alone in her sister’s kitchen. That moment we’d both touched the stupid water glass haunted me more than any of the dates I’d had recently.
I had been careful to prevent any potential run-ins with Maureen in Coleman Creek this past year. Like when I’d told James I’d attend their Fourth of July barbecue, then claimed a stomach bug once I discovered Maureen would be there. Despite my desire to be near her, I’d respected her wishes and kept my distance.
But this trip would be different. James and Marley were having an engagement party, and as we’d both be part of their wedding next summer, there was no reasonable way for Maureen and me to escape being in the same room.
I tossed two of my favorite pillows in the back of the Audi before hopping into the driver’s seat. The hotel outside Coleman Creek was comfortable enough, but I was picky about pillows. I also threw in my sketch pad, some drawing pencils, and my travel easel. My muse didn’t appear easily, but I was always hopeful.
I’d parked in the loading zone in front of my building. As I was about to pull out, I realized I’d left my charger on the kitchen counter. I opened my door without checking the side mirror—a bonehead move I usually avoided—and narrowly missed clipping a bicycle speeding past.
“Watch it, asshole!” the man screamed as he swung wide into the street to avoid hitting my car door. After rounding the hood,he reached his arm back and flipped me the bird. “Fucking dick!” he shouted for good measure.
“Sorry,” I mumbled into the air. My body trembled as the near-miss registered.
The sharp knife of adrenaline bit into my veins.
If I’d opened my door one second later, that guy would have been laid out on the street.
I slunk into my seat, slamming the door shut and leaning my head against my hands on the steering wheel.The cyclist. I almost hit a cyclist. I was usually so careful. So conscious. Ever since…My heart hammered, and a steady whooshing sound in my ears made me dizzy. The feeling of drowning, of being pulled under and surrounded by the thickening air, overwhelmed me.It’s okay… He’s not on the ground… You’re not on the ground… It’s okay.
Atap, tap, tapagainst the glass broke into my consciousness.
“Hey, man, you alright?” Chase made a motion for me to lower the window, which I did.
My heart still thumped a million miles an hour, but I wrangled my breathing into something resembling normal. “I’m fine. Just a little shaken up. I almost hit that guy on the bike.”
“Yeah, I saw from the steps. But that wasn’t all on you. That dude was way too close to begin with, considering the loading zone, plus he could have gone one block over where there’s an actual dedicated bike lane.”
“Still, though. I didn’t look.” My heart rate began to level.
“I wouldn’t worry about it. Happens to all of us. He got to call you an ‘asshole’ and a ‘dick’ loud enough to wake the neighbors, plus flip you off. I’d say you’re even.”
I released a mirthless chuckle. Chase was right. An almost-accident wasn’t the same as something terrible happening. And one thing I’d learned as I’d wrested my life from my parents’ vise grip was not all risks could be mitigated.
I’d probably always have a mild panic attack whenever a moving bicycle got too close to my car. The sensation of asphalt beneath my thighs as the street literally ripped the skin from my body would stay with me forever. But did that mean I should never drive? I looked up at the building. I felt proud of something I’d worked at for the first time in a long time. My risk to take.
Chase continued making small talk as the adrenaline worked its way out of my system. I went to my apartment and grabbed my charger before getting back in the Audi. Carefully checking for cyclists, skateboarders, pedestrians, delivery drivers, door-to-door salespeople, stray dogs, and tumbleweeds, I pulled into the street.
