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I put my glass down and walked straight out of the bar, not even pausing to say goodbye to Rachel, who had her mouth hanging open in awe. I didn’t look back to see if Jax was following me. In all of the years I had frequented the Dark Horse, I had never caused a scene. I had always been a model patron.
Ben’s laughter echoed through me as I left. I knew it was him. I’d know that laugh anywhere. I stopped myself from turning back around to dump another beer over him. I wanted to, but if I did, then he would know I cared enough to come back. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
I walked to Peter’s in half the time it had taken me to get down Sheffield. I stormed up the stairs, and frantically found some running clothes and shoes in the closet. I heard music drifting up the stairs from Peter’s bedroom but decided against talking to him. Only one thing would calm my nerves now. A nice long run along the lake path. I switched my leather watchband out for my rubber one and hit the pavement. All in all, I’d only been at Peter’s for three minutes. I didn’t think he even knew I’d come home. I left the place exactly how I found it.
I hadn’t run in two days with the travel home. I felt stiff and sore but kept moving. That jerk! I had hoped I would never see him again. I had hoped he had never left. I loved Gray but Ben’s leaving left a void in my heart full of what-might-have-beens. I kicked myself every time I thought of him over the past five years. Shame usually followed since the thought felt like a betrayal to Gray. I had run twice a day after Ben had walked out. The fact that I needed to run now fueled my anger, so I picked up my pace. My legs hurt from the excursion and my lungs burned.
I cut down Addison toward the lake and under Lake Shore Drive. I ran faster along the bike path, finally cutting across the lawn to the lake. I loved this place. It was my thinking spot. Or my hiding spot, depending on how you looked at it. This spot is where I came to get away.
During college, I would walk here to study. I never could focus while in a stuffy library. I slowed my pace as I neared the cement steps by Belmont Harbor. I used to spread out with my books and highlighters and pens. In all honesty, I never got much studying done here. I would gaze out over the lake and watch the sailboats or stare endlessly at the skyline. This city was beautiful.
The pinch in my side forced me to slow to a walk. I took a moment to catch my breath. Clutching my stomach and bent over, I probably looked a little crazy. I straightened up and tried to walk it off.
I usually ran in the mornings. I had never been here at night. It was a bit scary. I found myself looking over my shoulder at every noise. During the day, there were runners, bikers, walkers, and sitters. Now, it was just me. I didn’t know when people started to thin around me. I wished I had paid more attention. I felt vulnerable and exposed. A shiver ran down my spine from the soft breeze.
I stopped and looked behind me, debating whether to return the way I had come or move forward around the harbor. I chose the harbor for the sole reason of electric lights. I had always been a wimp in the dark. One too many scary movies as a child. One too many chainsaw-wielding maniacs hiding in the woods.
I started jogging again. The stitch in my side hadn’t subsided, yet, but I wanted to get back to people surrounding me quickly. I stifled a laugh at the irony. I’m safer here without anyone around me. I would be in way more danger, in a crime-ridden city, surrounded by strangers. Strangers who could mug and assault.
I let myself laugh that time. The running had worked. My mind had cleared. At least enough to recognize my crazy thinking. Around the bend, I saw boats docked. Some were covered for the night, but some had people aboard them. My heart rate slowed since I was not alone anymore. I could call for help if need be.
People waved as I jogged past. I raised my hand in return, also checking my watch for distance. I forgot my phone, and the GPS wasn’t as accurate, but the display showed a mile and a half. I wouldn’t quite reach my three-mile standard by the time I got back to Peter’s, but it’d be close enough.
I walked the last five blocks for a cool down. I was stinky and sweaty but felt much more myself. I should’ve gone for a run the minute my plane touched down. I needed it to help clear my confusion over Gray, too. I’d need a lot more running to clear that confusion, but every little bit helped.
Peter was waiting for me with the door open when I returned. I trudged up the stairs, hoping he was alone. Peter, I could handle. Two or three against me and I’d probably go down.
“Go get your suit on. It’s that kind of night.” He closed the door after I passed through. I didn’t argue with him. He was right. It was that kind of night.
I changed into a swimsuit and met him on the rooftop deck. He’d beaten me there. The hot tub was open and bubbling. Peter sat in the corner with a bottle of red wine and two glasses on the ledge. I slid in without saying a word, taking my regular spot in the opposite corner.
Late nights enjoying the hot tub was a time-honored tradition. We’d shared countless secrets here over the years. We’d argued or cried, sometimes both, and worked through life’s issues on this rooftop. It’d been our safety net for years. I hid at the lake, I opened up and poured my heart out here.
We shared a bottle of wine, both facing the view of the downtown area. Street noises found their way up here, but it was more like background music with soft honks of car horns and wordless chatter. Every so often a yell pierced through.
“Jax called me,” Peter said as he handed me a glass of wine.
“Hm.” The run may have cleared my head, but not my bratty behavior.
“I told her to let you be tonight. You’d call her tomorrow. Or not. Your choice.”
Thank you, I thought. I didn’t say it, but I acknowledged Peter’s gift with a nod.
“By your choice, I mean you are going to.” I should’ve known I wouldn’t get off that easy. I changed the subject.
“Since you have heard about my bad behavior, what did you do tonight?” I asked.
“I called a staff meeting downtown, took everyone for a drink. Just wanted everyone to know when we’d reopen and what to expect.”
“Good idea.”
“We finished off with a toast to Anya.”
“And you? How are you?” I asked.
“I’ll figure that out later. I need to worry about the staff right now.” Peter sipped his wine and stared out at the city. My glass sat untouched next to me. I played with the water, causing little splashes.
“How I wish I had seen you throw that beer! Little Miss lost her cool, huh?” Peter used a sing-song voice.
I gave myself a moment to laugh. What a ridiculous situation. “I must’ve looked like a lunatic. Some strange girl sitting with them, not even participating in the conversation, and then, bam, freak out.” I laughed harder now. “I enjoyed watching every drop fall on him. I’d do it again.”
Peter joined in my laughter. I would apologize to Jax tomorrow. Or the next day. Peter couldn’t actually force me.
“Jax said you didn’t know him.”
“Oh, I know him alright. Or, well, knew him. Quite well.”
“Care to share?”
“You’re a poet—” I started.
“-and don’t know it.” Peter finished.
“Remember Benjamin William Jackson, the third?” At Peter’s nod, I continued. “Apparently, he goes by Ben now.” I gave him a moment to connect the dots. It only took Peter a second before the light bulb popped on. His face visibly brightened.
“You should’ve dumped a whole pitcher on him! Let’s go back! Maybe he’s still there!” Peter pretended to get out of the water. I laughed with Peter, but I knew he was joking. About going back, anyway. Probably not about using a whole pitcher of beer.
“You know, you’ll have to tell Jax tomorrow.” Sheesh, man. Let it go, but I placated him. It was only one little white lie.
“I know. But, I don’t have to think about it now.” I leaned back against the side and slid down until my chin hit the water. I wanted to submerge myself and hide.
“When are you going to see your mom?”
“You are the grim reaper of bad reminders. Can’t we talk about something—anything—good?” I loved my mom, but she was old school. I needed a day or two to prepare myself for the lecture. I heard the same lines every time. Get a real job. Stop living in sin. I raised you better. Peter must’ve decided to give me a break because he changed the subject without further badgering me to talk to Jax or to see my mom.
“Did Jax tell you her good news?” I thought about our chat at the Dark Horse. She mentioned she had been painting more, and a few dates, but nothing that would fall into the category of good news. Just the same old stuff.
“She quit working for me.”
“She did? Where is she working now? Is that why she didn’t go to your meeting?” I sat up a little straighter, pulling my chin from the water.
“An agent noticed her art. She’s painting full-time now. Even got a few commissioned gigs. She’s making a living from it.”
“That’s great news. I wonder why Jax didn’t mention it.”
“Same reason you don’t talk about things, I guess.” Peter looked away with innocence.
“What’s that mean?” My tone came across sharper than I intended, but Peter kept his casual.
“You are both chickens. Jax puts her heart and soul into a painting. She’s terrified of a bad review.”
“She shouldn’t be. Her paintings are great,” I said.
“Art is subjective.” Peter sipped his wine.
Jaxon Hayes had been painting since she could hold a brush. I loved her work. The paintings were fun and original. I could see how the subject matter wouldn’t appeal to everyone, but the quality was there.
“And what about me? How am I a chicken?”
“Like you don’t know.” Peter topped off his glass. He leaned back and looked at the night sky. “It’s looking a little gray out tonight.”
How subtle.
I ignored the barb and tried to enjoy the hot tub. We sat and laughed together until the wine was gone. Peter would have a headache tomorrow. He didn’t even notice that I wasn’t drinking. I headed to bed, feeling much brighter and lighter than I had felt in a few days. I managed to sleep through the night. Between the travel time and the hard run, I was physically exhausted. Between Gray and Ben, I was emotionally drained. Sleep was a reprieve.