Natalie opens her mouth but hesitates. Two seconds pass, then she decides to tell me the truth. “Savannah went home to Texas for two weeks. She left yesterday.”
That settles it. I’m canceling.
“I’ll be fine, Aidan. Really.” Natalie gives me her serious look. It’s the mom look without being a mom in the first place.
I hold up my hands. “Fine. I believe you.” I definitely do not believe her. And there’s no way I’m going to let her pack up her apartment alone.
Our server stops by and leaves the check on the table. Natalie reaches for it, but I’m faster. “I got it.”
She tries to swipe it from me. “Let me.”
“Are you suggesting I can’t afford to buy you a beer?”
“You can’t.”
She’s right. Technically, anyway. If I would tap into my trust fund, I could buy every patron in every bar in Manhattan a beer and not put a dent in the pile. But I don’t want that money. That money is soaked with years of cover-ups, outright lies, and subject changes. It’s not dirty money in the traditional sense, but it might as well be.
“Tonight I can. I got my holiday bonus.”
“It’s not even Thanksgiving yet.”
I lay a twenty on the bill. “Please stop talking.”
Natalie laughs. “Never.” She points at the bathroom and slides from her seat.
While she’s gone, I pull out my phone and send a message to Allison through the dating app.Something came up. Can I have a raincheck for next Friday night?
Allison responds immediately, agreeing. Natalie comes back to the table but doesn’t sit. She waits for me to swallow the last of my beer and moves aside so I can stand up.
When we get outside, Natalie turns to me. “Thanks for the beer. And for everything else.” She steps into me and wraps her arms around my middle. We hug for a moment and she pulls away. “Bye, Aidan.” She turns, heading in the direction of her apartment. Or, her soon-to-be old apartment. I follow, making my steps loud on purpose. She turns back and stares at me.
“What are you doing?” Her eyebrows are drawn together in suspicion. She shivers, tucking her hands into her jacket pockets.
“I was thinking about how long it has been since I helped someone move. I’m overdue and I need to check the box before the end of the year. Can you help me out?”
Natalie’s head tips to the side. “And Allison?”
Tucking my hands in my own pockets, I shrug and rock back on my heels. “I rescheduled for next Friday night.”
In the glow of the streetlight and the traffic, I see the relief filling Natalie’s eyes. “Thank you.”
Walking forward, I sling an arm around her shoulders and turn her around, steering her down the street.
“Always, Nat.”
3
Natalie
My cereal tastes weird here.
My skin feels drier.
The air smells different. There is still the scent of old wood, the unmistakable layers of tenants past, with one glaring omission: lack of any manly scent. The absence wasn’t something I noticed yesterday, not with Aidan here helping me move in, but now it feels like a slap in the face.
A small groan escapes me as I reach into the fridge for the orange juice. My shoulders burn even with that one small movement. I know as the day goes on I will begin to feel the aches in other muscles. So many boxes, so many steps. Thank god I had Aidan.
I pour my juice and turn, studying the front of the fridge. Savannah smiles back at me, her blonde hair and pink tips glowing in the picture’s sunlight. She’s leaning on an upright snowboard, her free arm wrapped around the waist of her boyfriend, Drew.
