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That week’s performances of Chicago went off without a hitch or an unexpected gunshot, garnering standing ovations at three of them. Nigel blamed the lack of a standing O on the fourth performance on the number of elderly patrons—they’re simply too blown away to stand, he theorized.
Garrett had slept at Anjuli’s apartment the entire week and was so absent from home that Chase finally called him on Sunday evening to see if he was still alive. “I’m worried about you, lindo. I miss your face,” he’d said.
Garrett chuckled. He wasn’t sure how Chase managed to emote like a girl sometimes but yet be so masculine. It was an interesting dichotomy he pulled off to a T. “I’m fine, no need to worry about me. How is it going with your new boyfriend?”
“Oh, it’s been fucking incredible!” Chase replied, and Garrett could see the glow on his face even over the phone. “He’s kind of on the jealous side though, so I’m kinda afraid of what’s going to happen when you do finally come home.”
“Oh, yeah? Does he know you’re bi?” Garrett pressed.
Chase sighed. “Yes...he knows I’ve dated women in the past. That’s not a lie.”
“Good luck, man.” Garrett laughed.
“How are things going with you and Anjuli?” he changed the subject.
Garrett was picking up some things at the store to restock Anjuli’s refrigerator. They’d eaten out nearly the entire week after returning from Alabama simply because there had been no time to shop. Garrett’s workweek consisted of tackling a huge to-do list Tom had left, and Anjuli had dozens of appointments with clients.
“You still there, lindo?” Chase’s voice came across the line again.
“Sorry, just squeezing the melons,” Garrett retorted, making his roommate laugh. “I’m doing the grocery shopping for her so she can take a nice hot bath and relax. This show has completely wiped her out.”
“I don’t doubt it. We loved it when we came on Friday night! Sorry we didn’t get to hang out and chat.” Garrett heard a muffled voice in the distance, which distracted Chase for a few seconds. Then he returned. “Shopping for Anjuli, huh? You guys are sounding downright domestic. Is there anything I need to know? Moving out soon?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” Garrett answered. “We’re just taking our time. I don’t know what is going to happen after the show. I have a lot to process with my family situation, and she does too, with her own situation. I didn’t tell you, but her daughter is expecting, so Anjuli’s going to become a grandmother.”
“Fuck, are you serious? She’ll be a GILF, then, right? There’s one grandma I wouldn’t mind fucking!” Chase joked.
The thought of Chase fucking Anjuli—which had seemed perfectly plausible during their threesome a few weeks ago—now made Garrett’s skin burn. He shook his head, trying to get that feeling to dissipate, but it dug its heels in. He didn’t want to think about anyone fucking Anjuli. The feeling was so uncomfortable, he scrambled for a way to alleviate it.
“Yeah, I’m actually thinking of going out west for a while, maybe seeing my dad and Lilly,” he explained.
“Wow, lindo, that’s great...but what about Anjuli?”
“I told you, we’re just friends,” he answered. “It may be time for me to go back to my roots. Feels weird saying that because I vowed never to go back, but in some ways, I miss it out there...and I feel like I may need to work some shit out from my past. That might be the best place to do it.”
“So you’re saying you may have a room available soon?” Chase’s voice was dashed with hope.
“Very well may,” Garrett answered. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“Thanks, man. Have a good night, and maybe I’ll see you next week?”
“For sure, man. See ya.”
He hung up the phone and stared at his cart of groceries. Yeah, why not go to Washington?
When he came to the east coast for grad school, he thought he was escaping all those ghosts. He thought they’d all stay behind in Washington. But they had followed him. He’d never been able to slay those demons and move on. So why not go out there and cut them off at the source?
Why not go stand at Clark Bowman’s grave and tell him to go to hell?
Garrett was pretty sure he’d already been there and back in the past two months.
Her legs were trembling when she stepped into the tub. Garrett is right, I need to relax, she told herself as she sunk into the percolating bubbles that floated in a thick layer on top of the near-scalding water. She loved having a garden tub in her master bath, but she rarely availed herself of its soothing wonder. She was certain the last person to use it was Mishti over the summer.
She had lit candles, the whole nine yards. She couldn’t believe there was still another week of performances. When she auditioned, she was sure she had enough stamina for two months of rehearsals and performances, but she was starting to doubt herself now. It was like having two jobs, and that didn’t account for the emotional turmoil she’d endured between her daughter’s news and Garrett’s multiple issues.
She still worried about him. He insisted he was fine, but the night before he’d yelled out the name “Clark” in his sleep. It was the first thing he’d said that was clear. Everything else had been mumbling. She wasn’t sure why he would dream about the man he’d been an understudy for, but the mind was capable of all kinds of crazy shit. Who knew that better than she did?
They’d not talked about what they would do when the show was over. He’d practically been living there since they returned from Alabama and was out getting groceries for them while she soaked in the tub. He was definitely handling the rigors of nightly performances better than she was, but then again, he was ten years younger. I had a lot more energy in my thirties too, she reflected. Probably yet another reason we shouldn’t be together.
Parts of her wanted this crazy fling to be over so she could move on with her life and find someone more age appropriate. She was feeling ready to try something with more commitment. She kept thinking about her conversations with Garrett about open relationships and polyamory, but she didn’t feel those things were really her. As much as she’d fought against tradition, there was something appealing about it: being bound to one man, joining together in a loving partnership till death do us part.
Garrett wouldn’t ever want that, she reasoned. Hell, he doesn’t even think he’s capable of loving one woman, let alone multiple.
So, why hadn’t she been able to just let him go? Cut her losses?
Well, the show, for starters. It would be hard to sever ties with him when they had to perform opposite each other every night. So, when the show is over, she decided, we’ll have “the talk.” She had had “the talk” with a couple of other men she had dated, the one where she gave them the line, “It’s not you, it’s me.” But everyone knows that means it’s definitely you, she thought with an amused laugh.
Still, she couldn’t quite imagine pulling the trigger. Something about Garrett was—
Well, she knew she had feelings for him. She wasn’t even going to deny it at this point. What was it she always told her clients? “You can’t help who you fall in love with.” But she was a big girl. She could pull up her big girl panties and get over him like the trouper she was. Didn’t she raise a daughter on her own with absolutely no support? Didn’t she put herself through grad school while raising said daughter? Yes, she sure did.
She was lost in those swirling thoughts when she heard the door open. She hadn’t locked it, knowing Garrett would be returning shortly. She thought she heard him rumbling around in the kitchen, probably putting away the groceries he bought.
“Anjuli?” a voice called down her hallway.
She froze. It didn’t sound like Garrett’s voice.
“Hey, where are ya?”
The voice was familiar. She heard footsteps down the hallway, then the bathroom door slowly creaked open.
“There you are!”
She grabbed a towel, flying out of the bathtub with the speed and agility of an Olympic gymnast. “Scott! What the fuck are you doing here?!” She was panting, water dripping down her body onto the tiled floor.
He had the hugest, silliest grin on his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Your door was unlocked.”
“Because I thought Garrett was coming right back,” she breathed out, clutching the towel more tightly to her soaking wet body.
His eyes trailed up and down her figure, then he caught something in his peripheral vision and whipped his head toward the counter. She watched his eyes bulge out as he recognized what it was. His head slowly turned toward her. “Is that what I think it is?”
Her body began pumping adrenaline through her veins, which surged through her limbs so fast, it nearly took her breath away. Heat bloomed on her cheeks and chest as she shrugged. “It’s none of your business, Scott.”
“Are you serious about this guy, Juli?” Scott shook his head with disappointment. “You know, I checked into his background. Has he shared his dirty secrets with you yet?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Can you just get out? I don’t want to talk about him, okay?”
“Maybe you need to get to know the guy before you get too attached, huh?” Scott warned her. “He’s got some pretty nasty stuff in his background. Did you know he was dismissed from grad school for assaulting a female student?”
She shook her head. “That’s not what happened.” Why was he suddenly creeping her out? Her body was in fight or flight mode, and she was close to subjecting him to a maneuver she’d learned in self-defense class. The problem was she was dripping wet, wearing only a towel, and she felt wobbly on her feet on the wet floor.
“Did he tell you he shot his mother and stepdad when he was a kid?” he fired out.
It was like a bomb bursting over her. “What?! No—” She felt a sob rip through her. She didn’t want to believe his words, but she knew there was something wrong—that something had happened—
He gave her a sympathetic smile and made a step toward her. “Come here, sweetheart. Come here.” He pulled her wet, dripping form to him, wrapping his arms around her as she broke down against his shoulder.
“I tried to tell you not to get too close to him, sweetheart. He’s like a client. You can’t be doing that shit,” he whispered into her ears as he cradled her close to his body, then pressed a kiss against her cheek. Then he took her face into his palms and brushed his lips against hers, softly at first, then deeper as her body began to wilt against his.
“Anjuli?” she heard his voice break through her own sobs. Footsteps down the hall, just like before. “What the fuck is going on?”
Scott whipped around before Anjuli had a chance to react to Garrett standing in the doorway, bags of groceries in his arms. “Haven’t you done enough? Get the fuck out,” Scott seethed at him.
“Let go of me!” Anjuli screamed at Scott, whipping her hand across his face. The towel dropped, exposing her wet, naked body to both men. She was flustered, her body ravaged by the adrenaline coursing through her. Scott began to reach for her again, but she brought her knee up into his crotch, looking relieved as he stumbled backward, holding his groin and wailing in pain.
“What is going on?” Garrett demanded, dropping the bags of groceries on the floor in the hallway. He reached down and grabbed ahold of Scott, throwing him to the floor behind him as he stepped toward Anjuli.
He started for her, but she screamed, “Don’t touch me!” as she scrambled for the towel that had dropped to the floor.
“Get out! Both of you! Get the fuck out of my house!”
He backed away from her with his arms raised, stunned to see the rage in her eyes. He didn’t even know she was capable of such cold, hard, rejection. He helped Scott, who was still writhing in pain, off the floor and grabbed him by the collar. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m her co-worker, and I’m trying to save Anjuli from a lowlife scum like you,” he snarled at Garrett, his chest still heaving from the blow to his groin.
“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Garrett demanded, tightening his grip on the man’s shirt. He did look familiar, now that he looked closer. He’d met him at Anjuli’s get-together that first fateful night they’d spent together.
“You know exactly what I mean,” Scott spat in his face. “I know all about your past. Assault...murder...you should be in fucking jail!”
Upon hearing that, Garrett’s hold on the man released, dropping him again to the floor. He glanced over to Anjuli, who was sobbing and clutching the towel around her as her wet hair clung to her skin. She shook her head, clearly devastated. “Please, just go,” she whimpered. “And take him with you...”
Garrett started to speak again, but the look on her face stopped the words from spilling out. He grabbed Scott again by the collar, pulling him to his feet. Then he shoved him down the hallway and out the door, leaving the bags of groceries in a disarray on the floor outside Anjuli’s bathroom. He shoved Scott against the wall outside her front door, then stalked off down the hallway and out to his car.
He beat his fists against his steering wheel. The way his body responded when he saw Anjuli in Scott’s arms...it was hard to explain what it meant, what had caused it. He was filled with what felt like a primal instinct to kick the man’s ass. He didn’t know where it had come from, but it scared him. That impulse to destroy another human being, to rip into them and tear them apart limb by limb frightened the hell out of him. He had felt it before, so long before. He shook his head, trying to get the ghosts’ grip on him to loosen.
And somehow Scott knew. He knew his past. And now Anjuli did too.
Fuck this shit. I’m going to Washington. I can’t stay here anymore. There are as many painful memories here as anywhere.
BWI was bustling even on a Sunday night. Garrett had gone home long enough to stuff some clothes in a bag. Chase and his boyfriend were cuddled on the sofa watching Netflix; Garrett offered them a brief hello, but they barely moved. It was dark in there, so Garrett wasn’t sure if they were otherwise occupied. He gathered his things and was out the door within ten minutes, then he raced toward the airport.
He texted Jackson to say he was going to pay his father a visit, and he’d be there for at least a few days if he wanted to come out too. Jackson texted back to say he’d see what he could do.
The show started again on Thursday night. He guessed he would decide by Wednesday if he was coming back, and if not, well, it wasn’t as though Nigel hadn’t thrown him under the bus in the past. What goes around, comes around, he thought to himself.
He was able to get a flight that night, surprisingly. Only one short layover in Minneapolis, and he’d be home by morning with the time change. He didn’t know exactly what he planned to get out of his visit, but it didn’t matter at this point. He wanted to be anywhere as long as it wasn’t Maryland.
What would his dad say when he showed up on his doorstep? He’d warn Lilly he was coming. And he’d already told Jackson. They would just have a great big ole Stone family reunion. Isn’t that what he’d always dreamed about when he was a kid? When Clark’s voice in his head was so loud, so demeaning, so disgusting, he’d dream about running away and finding his real dad.
Now he finally was.
