“Don’t. You’ve got me now. And I’d miss you like hell if you left.”
“See? Having someone who believes in me, who understands what I’ve been through, changed my outlook. I’m not lost anymore.”
Race studied me, and as the seconds ticked by, I shifted from one foot to the other. Would it always be this way, this lack of trust in who I am? Recalling the terrible things I’d said and my vicious treatment of people, I couldn’t expect those who saw me at my worst, like Race, to believe I’d changed so precipitously.
“I have quite a bit to prove, not only to you, Cort, and everyone at Man Up I let down, but also to myself.”
Approval gleamed in Race’s eyes, and he stuck out his hand. “That was what I was waiting for. That acknowledgment. Now I feel as though I can leave you two here to take care of the store, and I won’t have to worry about Cort being left alone if you decide things get too hard.”
“Not a chance.” I nudged Cort. “He’s stuck with me.”
He ruffled my hair. “I guess I’ll learn to put up with your snoring.”
“I do not.” Pretending outrage, I gazed up into his face, more content at that moment than at any time prior. Perhaps it took the month away from everyone and everything to slap me in the face with the reality that this was who I was meant to be. And these were the people to be with. I truly had left the old Harlan DeWitt behind, and I was happy to lock that corpse away.
Thinking back on an idea I thought up while at rehab, I decided to approach Race and get his opinion.
“Let me ask you something. When I was upstate, there were many young people who struggled with literacy. They couldn’t read at their age level, and it hampered them—from getting jobs to doing homework to simply enjoying books.”
“In the city as well. There’s an alarming percentage of adults and children who simply can’t read.” Race picked up his glasses, and after placing them on the bridge of his nose, opened the laptop.
“What would you say about trying to do something about it? In law we dopro bonowork—give free legal services to those who can’t afford it. How about if we try and get kids in here, and we’d read to them and help them with their own reading? Maybe help with homework, stuff like that.”
“How would that work?” Race leaned his elbows on the counter. At the sight of his definite interest, I allowed my excitement to break free.
“We can let the people in the neighborhood know—make a sign for the window here. It doesn’t need to be huge. But there isn’t anything that can help people more than a good education. And that starts with reading.”
“So instead of having authors come to read from their books, you would read?”
“Us. Or volunteers. But maybe children’s authors would want to. Maybe some self-help authors might want to do it.”
Tapping his finger on his cheek, Race stared into space while I grew more nervous. Cort squeezed my hand.
“It’s a great idea,” Cort murmured in my ear. “He’s gonna love it. Give him a minute to think, is all.”
“It has great potential,” Race said. “I’d like you to see what you can do with it.” He winced and made a face. “Dammit. I’ve been sitting in one place too long. I can’t wait to have my surgery. I can see my place is going to be in good hands.”
We helped him up, and he left the store to go upstairs to his apartment. Cort had put in a chairlift so Race didn’t have to climb the two flights of stairs. When the door closed behind Race, Cort turned to me with a bemused expression on his face.
“What?” I asked.
“Who are you, and what have you done with the real Harlan?”
“Very funny.” I made a wry face, then sobered. “I’m not sure who the real me is anymore.”
Cort slipped an arm around me and hugged me close. “This. Right here. This is the real you. The real Harlan.”
I hoped so. Because I couldn’t go back to that vain, empty vessel I was before. I hugged Cort back, but that gnawing sense of something left unfinished remained.
Chapter Fifteen
CORT
“Together? Like inliving with you on your sofa together, or getting it on together?”
I pretend-glared at Frankie, trying like hell to keep a smile off my lips. “Don’t make me spell it out for you.”
“Aww. Lookit, Austin. Our boy’s blushing. Ain’t he cute.”
