“Yeah, I saw her at a broadcast they were doing at a bar last year,” the squat guy next to Robbie said.
Jesus, did everybody in this town know who Mabel was?
The guy ran his hand over his shaved dome, looking depressed at the memory. “Tried to get her to party with me, but she turned me down. Really nice about it though.”
Jake’s own memory was much sharper. “Yeah. She’s… she’s really great.” He sighed. “Her voice is so… God, it’s just so…”
He didn’t finish the sentence. Robbie shot him a curious look, then gestured to the bartender for another round.
By midnight, Jake was well and truly wasted, and maudlin didn’t even begin to cover how he was feeling about his romantic entanglements in this Podunk town.
“Okay, new friend. I’ve got an Uber on the way. Time to go,” Robbie said, slinging a huge arm around Jake’s shoulder and helping him stumble up the stairs to street level. The sun had been up when they’d descended to the lower-level bar, and now Jake was seeing Beaucoeur after hours. The neighborhood was hopping, cars packing the parking lots of the nighttime establishments and clusters of people loitering outside, having a smoke.
With a pang, Jake recalled leaving the Elephant with Mabel on Saturday. He’d wanted to ravish her in the middle of the bar, long before they ever reached his Jeep. If he had, maybe they’d have had a different ending.
Fuck, he was too full of beer and regrets for thoughts like that. It had drizzled while they’d been underground, so he did his best to focus on the reflection of the stoplights glimmering on the damp street as they flipped from green to yellow to red.
Thankfully, their driver pulled up before Jake was completely overtaken by melancholy. He and Robbie tumbled into the vehicle, and fifteen minutes later arrived at the shabby little house Robbie was renting with two of his buddies.
Before he climbed out of the back, Robbie gripped Jake’s shoulder with his giant paw and, tears in his eyes, said, “Thanks for giving me a chance, buddy.” Then the man and his pompadour rolled out of the car and up the front walk.
When the driver turned to Jake, he was gripped with an unsettling realization: they’d only given the driver Robbie’s address. Worse, Jake couldn’tquiteremember where he lived. He’d checked out of his hotel that morning, but he hadn’t officially moved into his new place yet, and his beer-addled brain refused to cough up the street name of his short-term rental when the driver asked for it.
“It’s, uh, big apartment thing,” Jake mumbled. “Like one hundred some units? Got trees and a parking lot? S’brick. Something with flowers.”
Jake brandished his new key at the driver, who peered at it, muttered something about drunk idiots, and pointed his vehicle north. He deposited Jake in the central courtyard of the Mayflower Apartments, which did look vaguely familiar. He thanked the man and turned in a bewildered circle, baffled as to which of the six identical buildings was home. Time for trial and error.
The metal exterior doors to each building were locked, and his new key fit the second one he tried. Once inside, he rode the elevator up to five, slumping against the wall for support and praying he was correctly remembering that his new apartment was on that floor. When the doors slid open, he stumbled into the quiet hallway and swayed left, then right.
Shiiiiit. He had no idea what number his apartment was, and the hallway stretched impossibly long in either direction. He rested his forehead against the wall next to the elevator and tried to force his useless fucking brain to think. It was probably one of the doors that didn’t have a floor mat or wreath or some personal touch. He was a sad single guy with no friends or personal connections after all. No friends, no wreath. This all felt so much worse than it did in Chicago.
Jake rolled off the wall and lurched down the hallway to examine the two undecorated doors in the hallway. They were side by side. “Convenient!” he said loudly and then shushed himself.
He groped in his pocket for his key and inserted it into the lock of the door on the right. He tried twisting it a couple of times, but the handle refused to budge.
Okay then. It must be the other one. Trial and error! But before he could pull his key out of the lock, the door swung open to reveal a woman in a short robe, wielding an irritated expression and a can of pepper spray.
“What the hell do you think you’re— Uh, Jake?”
He peered at her blearily. “Hey, I know you. Right? I know you?”
She blinked in surprise but didn’t release her hold on the pepper spray. “Thea. From the hotel. What are you doing here?”
He pointed to his keys, which were still sticking out of her lock.
“Just moved in. I think.”
Thea’s face cleared in understanding. “Oh sure. The apartment next to mine’s been empty for a while. I wondered if you might end up in that one. And wow, are you drunk. Here,” she said briskly, extracting his key and plugging it into the neighboring door. It swung open immediately. “There you go.”
She pushed him inside and stepped in after him. Jake staggered a few steps into his apartment before realizing that his luggage was still in the back of his Jeep, which was parked in the radio-station lot. Well, shit.
“Um, are you… moved in?” She looked around his bare living room in confusion, but at least she’d pocketed the paper spray.
Jake scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Yeah, s’fine. I’ve got more stuff to bring up tomorrow.”
She frowned. “But what about your bed? Is it made? Do you have towels and—”
Exhaustion suddenly enveloped him, and his limbs became too heavy to stay upright. He had to ditch this friendly stranger.
