Rob smiled. Hope danced in his mind, taunting, assuring.
“Thanks,” Rob mumbled when they finally arrived at the L station. He reached over the seat to hand the driver a couple of twenties, but the cabbie waved them away. “It’s taken care of”
Rob was confused. He shrugged. Perhaps the police had told him not to charge for the ride? Whatever the reason, he took it as an omen. “Take it anyway. I appreciate you getting me here so quickly.”
He didn’t know if that was true. The driver treated their ride north as though he was a driver in a race, whizzing in and out of lanes, careening through intersections where the light was changing from yellow to red, and narrowly avoiding pedestrians who dared step in his path.
Perhaps the real omen was that he’d made it here alive.
He got out of the cab and stood on the sidewalk, watching as it made its way eastbound. He knew it was east because he could see Lake Michigan from where he stood. It was only a few blocks away, and unlike its gray color earlier, it now shimmered Caribbean blue in the sunlight.
Not perfectly confident he was going in the right direction, he headed north on Ashland Avenue.
He recognized Jasper’s redbrick building just past the L tracks as soon as he saw it.
He paused outside the building, wondering if this was a fool’s errand, if he were just a dirty old man chasing after a boy.
It’s a little late to be having second thoughts now. You told the driver to bring you here for a reason. What that reason was fueled by might bear further contemplation, but what’s true is you have hope. There, just a few steps away, is a chance of something better. Don’t be an idiot. Ring his buzzer. Try to make things right.
You never made enough effort with your daughter. Don’t continue making the same mistake. Reach out. You might lose, but you won’t know unless you try.
Rob stepped onto the stoop outside the front door and pressed the buzzer button with Jasper’s name next to it.
His heart pounded. His mouth was dry.
He smiled anyway.
Chapter 18
THE SOUNDof the buzzer caused Jasper to jump and wake up.
He’d dozed off on the couch after talking to his dad. He’d been in the middle of a dream, something about being in a garden with Lacy and his father, planting tomatoes. The only image he could retrieve from the dream was of the three of them squatting in the dirt. His father told them, “A little water and sunshine is all it takes.”
He wiped drool from his chin as he stood. He glanced in the oak-framed mirror on the fireplace mantel and ran a hand through his hair, finger-combing it into place. At last, he headed for the door to the balcony, as he’d done many times before, to check who was outside. His second-floor vantage point had served him well in letting him know if he’d actually wanted to admit a trick he’d met online. He knew the practice was unkind and judgmental, but itwasefficient. If someone wasn’t right, they weren’t right. Still, Jasper had to admit, if only to himself, that his behavior was cowardly and totally lacking in grace and consideration.
The sun had come out fully, and the temperature had soared upward at least ten degrees. The breeze in the trees was actually balmy. Still, there was that slight undercurrent of chill from the lake. He crossed his arms and leaned out over the edge of the balcony.
Rob. Jasper debated whether he should simply retreat quietly back into the apartment or see what he wanted. Seeing him down there made him feel like his dream state was continuing.
And maybe it was.
He’d taken one step backward when life, as it often does, made a different decision for him.
Rob looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. Before Jasper could say a word, he shouted, “Can I come up?”
Jasper sighed. He wanted to shout back down, “What for? Everything that needs to be said has already been said.”
But you know that’s rarely the case.
So he called, “I’ll buzz you in.” He padded to the box by the front door and pressed the button. He heard the distant bee’s drone of the intercom below. Opening his front door, he waited. There was the front door opening, then the inner door by the mailboxes, all within the time allowed by the buzzer to unlock them. The doors slammed shut. Jasper leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, and listened as Rob ascended the creaking staircase. Because the building’s basement was halfway aboveground, a common thing in Chicago, it was more like he lived on the third floor rather than the second.
He looked down at himself in his plaid flannel boxers and old, stretched-out white T-shirt, plain save for an ancient pinkish ketchup stain on the front. He contemplated running into his room to put something more decent on, then decided, in this instance, clothes didn’t make the man.
He was grateful Stan was at work.
Rob came into view on the landing below him.
“Hey,” Jasper said.
