I’ve never even been to Chicago for anything longer than a layover, and now I co-own a house here.
What is life?
Not having the energy to face the house yet, we decide to visit the bed and breakfast Tanya mentioned. Maybe Roger’s sister still owns the place, and we can ask her some questions.
Victor is quiet when we meet him back outside the bank. This part of Tanya’s story seems to be greatly affecting him. I’m not going to voice my thoughts on the situation. As Micah loves to point out, I run from my feelings, so I’ll be damned if I call someone out for doing the same.
When we ask him if he can take us to Lennox Bed and Breakfast, his GPS shows that he was already headed that way. A lucky guess, he claims.
After we pull up to the building, he lets us know he’ll have a car sent our way for the remainder of our trip. The man flew all the way here just to turn back around the same day. That’s a level of dedication I don’t think all clients get from their lawyers. It’s a level of dedication I doubt all of Victor’s clients get from him. I’ve been hard on him, and I haven’t been considerate of how Tanya’s death must have affected him on a deeper level.
“Hey, Victor, are you okay?”
He gives a single nod and says, “I’ll be just fine.”
I can’t help but notice he didn’t say heisfine.
Walking into Lennox feels like walking into your grandmom’s house. The smell of cookies wafts through the air. The furniture looks inviting. The couch looks like it makes for a great nap while the TV stand appears handcrafted.
A woman walks into the foyer with long twists pulled up into a bun. “Oh, hello. Welcome to Lennox. Have you booked a stay with us?”
“We haven’t. But do you have any rooms available?” Micah inquires.
“Absolutely. Come with me.”
We follow her to a desk that looks a bit more modern than the rest of the decor. “And would that be one or two rooms?”
“One,” I say.
“Two,” Micah says at the same time.
Heat rises up my neck. How fucking embarrassing. “Right. Two.”
“I just thought you’d be more comfortable that way,” he explains.
I don’t meet his eyes. He’s right. I just figured that after we survived sharing a room in Richmond, we’d be fine. This is why you shouldn’t assume. “Please let me wallow in my humiliation in peace,” I jab.
He runs his hands down his face, a hint of a smile peeking through the slits of his fingers.
To her credit, the woman doesn’t acknowledge the blunder and instead types furiously on her computer. “We happen to have two rooms left, so I’ll go ahead and book you if that’s okay.”
We give her our information so we can complete our check-in. A man a few inches taller than her, with a low-cut Caesar and a tattoo of a bird on his neck, walks down the steps. He’s got a bit of a baby face, but he stands with all the confidence of a man who knows exactly who he is.
“I’m Kelly, by the way. And this is my son, Slater.” She holds her arms out for the man, and they half hug. “We run this place together, so we’re happy to help with anything you need.”
“Ahh, nice to meet you. Your last name wouldn’t happen to be Lucas, would it?”
“It was once upon a time. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I believe your brother, Roger, and I had a friend in common.”
“Oh really? Who?”
“Tanya Holden.”
Her smile falls into a deep frown while Slater’s eyes widen. “Tanya. Yes, I knew her. She won’t be joining you, will she? She’s not welcome.”
“Mom,” Slater chastises, and she brushes him off.
